Prompt Table 001: Lust
Who: Shane, Sasha, and every guy Sasha's ever dated.
What: You'll see, won't you. Jeez.
When: Back when Shane and Sasha were still roommates.
Where: Los Angeles
Why: 'Cuz daughterof_evil told me to. Also 'cuz of this.
Jesse is a friend
Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine
But lately something's changed
That ain't hard to define
Jesse's got himself a girl
And I want to make her mine
It was enough to make him want to throw up.
But that would break the image a little bit. And Shane had to be all about the image. If all his father's lessons were going to do him any good, from the ridiculous ones to the ones that actually made sense, it'd be now. At times like this.
Times when they were all out at a restaurant together. A room had been rented, two large tables had been put together, and Shane still marveled at all of them being in the same room at the same time. Lorelai and Miles were off bickering in a corner, Rachel and Luke were pretending they weren't acting fluffy when they were, Julia and AJ were in from New York, Junior and Scarlett were discussing Your Mom's next show date with Mal and Hannah, all five Coopers were making life about as crazy as they were always capable of, Angie and Vince were switching off making eyes a each other when one of them wasn't looking. And so on.
All of them, interconnected through their parents, friendships, and a hell of a lot of sex. And it was just the tip of the iceberg, really. Which gave Shane kind of a headache when he thought about it too much.
But not nearly as much as the couple seated across from him. The ones who were claiming not to be a 'couple', really, but more of a friends with benefits kind of set up. Who needed all that extra stuff when you had sex? Really.
Yeah, watching Sasha and B sitting across from him, just being together, made him want to throw up. And he couldn't do that, so Shane had to breathe. Not wish that her body was next to his, her hand on his leg, that she was smiling at him like that. He might go out of his mind trying not to do all these things, but he had to keep breathing.
And definitely not throw up.
I play along with the charade
There doesn't seem to be a reason to change
You know I feel so dirty when they start talking cute
I want to tell her I love her
But the point is probably moot
Fast forward a few weeks, and it's all over. After a marriage for fuck's sake. It doesn't matter if they were shitfaced in Vegas -- He'll never forgive Donovan for not stopping them, he swears it -- and it was annulled shortly after. Someone got Sasha to the goddamned altar to say 'I do' before he could.
And then it's back to dating other guys after that. They're paraded in and out in front of him, and Shane smiles all the way through like a goddamned idiot.
It was when it was the guys he knew that it drove him particularly crazy. When it was B, or Miles -- Fuck, Miles already had Lorelai, then he had to go after Sasha too? Again? -- Or any of the rest. When it was that guy who Shane was still fairly sure was smarter than him, he nearly followed them out the door so he could throttle the bastard.
But he didn't He never did that. He just smiled. And breathed. When you got down to it, that was his problem. Plain and simple.
He'd been born without a goddamned spine. A Gannon, through and through. Minus the balls.
Except for with George the British and So Much Better. He was still convinced that given the chance again, he'd shoot that guy. If he thought he could get away with it, anyway.
Maybe he could. Maybe he would.
But he probably wouldn't. If he couldn't step up and take what he wanted, tell Sasha everything he always wanted to tell her, then he probably wouldn't.
And I'm looking in the mirror all the time
Wondering what she don't see in me
I've been funny
I've been cool with the lines
Ain't that the way love's supposed to be?
Once or twice, Shane had contemplated therapy.
Someone needed to explain to him why the hell this kept happening. Why he kept falling so hard for girls who only made him suffer. Someone who's brain was hard wired into this kind of thing, so they would just know. Since, really, someone needed to explain it to him.
While they were at it, they could tell him why he didn't compare to a guy like Miles, or B, or George the Foreign Six Pack, or any of the others. He wasn't bad looking, thorough examination in the mirror had pretty much determined that. Shane figured he might not be A-1 material, but he had to be worth some kind of damn, right?
Failing the therapist, Shane wanted a chat with God. A face to face where he could ask him just what the hell he was trying to pull. Sure, he was a criminal, but was this really the way to go about punishing him? Making him live with this shit, day in and day out? How was that just and loving? Or just the loving part, at the very least?
But that seemed to be setting the bar a bit high.
Even now, he cringed when he heard her footsteps headed his way. Sitting in his room, Shane's hands dropped away from the keyboard, and he sagged back against his chair. He let out the breath he'd been holding, and drew another deep one back in. They were close, and they were heels. Goddamn heels.
And she's watching him with those eyes
And she's loving him with that body
I just know it
And he's holding her in his arms
Late at night
He rubbed his face with both hands, slapped both cheeks a little, and sat up in his chair while he tried to focus. And then she came around the corner of his vision, standing in his doorway. Forcing Shane made to make the mistake of looking.
The low cut clingy red dress with the heels to match is nothing short of a spirit killer. And yet, Shane still feels himself smile.
Even if he's not breathing this time.
"Hey." Sasha smiles at him, pushing off the doorway and walking over to his desk. "Working on anything interesting?"
"Never."
"Awwww, Roomie, cut yourself a break." She places a hand -- red nails, of course -- on his shoulder, and Shane wishes she hadn't. He wishes to the God that can't be listening, and knows he's not going to get an answer when Sasha gives it a squeeze. "Listen, Peter and I are--"
"You're goin' out with Peter again?"
He hears himself blurt it, once again wishes he hadn't. There's no taking that one back. Sasha blinks, startled, then frowns at him. Confused. Why would he say such a thing?
"Yeah, I'm going out with him again." She laughs it off after a silence that's a little too long, and Shane is at least thankful for that much. "He's going to be here in two minutes, I just wanted to let you know I probably won't be home tonight."
Shane bites his tongue, and keeps smiling. He's watching her smile now, and it's changed. It lingers, and carries something extra. Not because she's talking to him, but because of who she's talking about. Peter. This new guy. He's been different since day one. Too different.
Stomach twisting, Shane feels an upshot of dread slice directly through his chest. But he keeps smiling. "Yeah, okay. Call me later?"
"Sure." Sasha grins now, and she does the semi traditional kiss on the cheek that makes Shane cringe. She straightens up with the doorbell, and grins wider. Once again, for Peter. Not for Shane. "That's him. Later, Roomie!"
And then she's walking away. A little quicker than with the others, with that inescapable sway in her step that he can't look away from. Shane finally lets his smile fade, his eyes roaming over what he knows he's never going to get as she walks out his door. Slowly, he raises a hand to his mouth, bites his fist, and releases a really unhappy groan.
Then with a sharp turn, Shane pushes his keyboard up. "Damn it." He punctuates his words with banging his forehead on the desk. "Goddamn it." And again. "Sonofabitch." And again. "Motherfuckin'goddamnedcrazystupidsonofabitch." And again...
You know I wish that I had Jesse's Girl
I wish I had Jesse's Girl
I want I want Jesse's Girl
Jesse's Girl!
What: You'll see, won't you. Jeez.
When: Back when Shane and Sasha were still roommates.
Where: Los Angeles
Why: 'Cuz daughterof_evil told me to. Also 'cuz of this.
Jesse is a friend
Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine
But lately something's changed
That ain't hard to define
Jesse's got himself a girl
And I want to make her mine
It was enough to make him want to throw up.
But that would break the image a little bit. And Shane had to be all about the image. If all his father's lessons were going to do him any good, from the ridiculous ones to the ones that actually made sense, it'd be now. At times like this.
Times when they were all out at a restaurant together. A room had been rented, two large tables had been put together, and Shane still marveled at all of them being in the same room at the same time. Lorelai and Miles were off bickering in a corner, Rachel and Luke were pretending they weren't acting fluffy when they were, Julia and AJ were in from New York, Junior and Scarlett were discussing Your Mom's next show date with Mal and Hannah, all five Coopers were making life about as crazy as they were always capable of, Angie and Vince were switching off making eyes a each other when one of them wasn't looking. And so on.
All of them, interconnected through their parents, friendships, and a hell of a lot of sex. And it was just the tip of the iceberg, really. Which gave Shane kind of a headache when he thought about it too much.
But not nearly as much as the couple seated across from him. The ones who were claiming not to be a 'couple', really, but more of a friends with benefits kind of set up. Who needed all that extra stuff when you had sex? Really.
Yeah, watching Sasha and B sitting across from him, just being together, made him want to throw up. And he couldn't do that, so Shane had to breathe. Not wish that her body was next to his, her hand on his leg, that she was smiling at him like that. He might go out of his mind trying not to do all these things, but he had to keep breathing.
And definitely not throw up.
I play along with the charade
There doesn't seem to be a reason to change
You know I feel so dirty when they start talking cute
I want to tell her I love her
But the point is probably moot
Fast forward a few weeks, and it's all over. After a marriage for fuck's sake. It doesn't matter if they were shitfaced in Vegas -- He'll never forgive Donovan for not stopping them, he swears it -- and it was annulled shortly after. Someone got Sasha to the goddamned altar to say 'I do' before he could.
And then it's back to dating other guys after that. They're paraded in and out in front of him, and Shane smiles all the way through like a goddamned idiot.
It was when it was the guys he knew that it drove him particularly crazy. When it was B, or Miles -- Fuck, Miles already had Lorelai, then he had to go after Sasha too? Again? -- Or any of the rest. When it was that guy who Shane was still fairly sure was smarter than him, he nearly followed them out the door so he could throttle the bastard.
But he didn't He never did that. He just smiled. And breathed. When you got down to it, that was his problem. Plain and simple.
He'd been born without a goddamned spine. A Gannon, through and through. Minus the balls.
Except for with George the British and So Much Better. He was still convinced that given the chance again, he'd shoot that guy. If he thought he could get away with it, anyway.
Maybe he could. Maybe he would.
But he probably wouldn't. If he couldn't step up and take what he wanted, tell Sasha everything he always wanted to tell her, then he probably wouldn't.
And I'm looking in the mirror all the time
Wondering what she don't see in me
I've been funny
I've been cool with the lines
Ain't that the way love's supposed to be?
Once or twice, Shane had contemplated therapy.
Someone needed to explain to him why the hell this kept happening. Why he kept falling so hard for girls who only made him suffer. Someone who's brain was hard wired into this kind of thing, so they would just know. Since, really, someone needed to explain it to him.
While they were at it, they could tell him why he didn't compare to a guy like Miles, or B, or George the Foreign Six Pack, or any of the others. He wasn't bad looking, thorough examination in the mirror had pretty much determined that. Shane figured he might not be A-1 material, but he had to be worth some kind of damn, right?
Failing the therapist, Shane wanted a chat with God. A face to face where he could ask him just what the hell he was trying to pull. Sure, he was a criminal, but was this really the way to go about punishing him? Making him live with this shit, day in and day out? How was that just and loving? Or just the loving part, at the very least?
But that seemed to be setting the bar a bit high.
Even now, he cringed when he heard her footsteps headed his way. Sitting in his room, Shane's hands dropped away from the keyboard, and he sagged back against his chair. He let out the breath he'd been holding, and drew another deep one back in. They were close, and they were heels. Goddamn heels.
And she's watching him with those eyes
And she's loving him with that body
I just know it
And he's holding her in his arms
Late at night
He rubbed his face with both hands, slapped both cheeks a little, and sat up in his chair while he tried to focus. And then she came around the corner of his vision, standing in his doorway. Forcing Shane made to make the mistake of looking.
The low cut clingy red dress with the heels to match is nothing short of a spirit killer. And yet, Shane still feels himself smile.
Even if he's not breathing this time.
"Hey." Sasha smiles at him, pushing off the doorway and walking over to his desk. "Working on anything interesting?"
"Never."
"Awwww, Roomie, cut yourself a break." She places a hand -- red nails, of course -- on his shoulder, and Shane wishes she hadn't. He wishes to the God that can't be listening, and knows he's not going to get an answer when Sasha gives it a squeeze. "Listen, Peter and I are--"
"You're goin' out with Peter again?"
He hears himself blurt it, once again wishes he hadn't. There's no taking that one back. Sasha blinks, startled, then frowns at him. Confused. Why would he say such a thing?
"Yeah, I'm going out with him again." She laughs it off after a silence that's a little too long, and Shane is at least thankful for that much. "He's going to be here in two minutes, I just wanted to let you know I probably won't be home tonight."
Shane bites his tongue, and keeps smiling. He's watching her smile now, and it's changed. It lingers, and carries something extra. Not because she's talking to him, but because of who she's talking about. Peter. This new guy. He's been different since day one. Too different.
Stomach twisting, Shane feels an upshot of dread slice directly through his chest. But he keeps smiling. "Yeah, okay. Call me later?"
"Sure." Sasha grins now, and she does the semi traditional kiss on the cheek that makes Shane cringe. She straightens up with the doorbell, and grins wider. Once again, for Peter. Not for Shane. "That's him. Later, Roomie!"
And then she's walking away. A little quicker than with the others, with that inescapable sway in her step that he can't look away from. Shane finally lets his smile fade, his eyes roaming over what he knows he's never going to get as she walks out his door. Slowly, he raises a hand to his mouth, bites his fist, and releases a really unhappy groan.
Then with a sharp turn, Shane pushes his keyboard up. "Damn it." He punctuates his words with banging his forehead on the desk. "Goddamn it." And again. "Sonofabitch." And again. "Motherfuckin'goddamnedcrazystupidsonofabitch." And again...
You know I wish that I had Jesse's Girl
I wish I had Jesse's Girl
I want I want Jesse's Girl
Jesse's Girl!