"As the fires burn..." GD, J/C, T
Title: As the fire burns...
Fandom: GD
Pairing: Jimmy/Christian
Rating: T
Warn: Prostitution, Lang, Minor slash.
WC: Approx. 1,180.
DC: NOT MINE.
Another in my JC universe.
I found an old piece and finished it. Not sure if I like it or not, but here it is.
A dark and cute piece wherein they realize that sometimes, love is pain.
They are kindle to each other.
Each burns to keep the other.
Each feels the heat.
They are the same, but neither will admit it.
Stalemates create infernoes.
You can only burn both ends for so long.
Someone has to stop the fire sometime... right?
Enjoy.
- -
“Shit...”
Christian looked up from the old ratty couch in the middle of Jimmy’s place when the older punk stumbled in the door cursing. Christian’s eyes went wide at the sight of him. Jimmy closed the door tightly, locking it and leaning against the cold metal. From across the tiny room, Christian could see Jimmy’s black eye and the blood dripping from his nose.
“Jim?” He breathed. Jimmy started and looked up, a gasp crossing his lips. Christian stood, but Jimmy held up a hand to keep him from coming close.
“Go to sleep, kid.” Jimmy grunted, forcing himself from the door and slowly shuffling to the little room in the flat that he’d made his own.
“What happened, Jimmy?” Christian breathed, standing frozen in his place. Jimmy didn’t say a word but looked up with pained eyes. Christian wasn’t stupid, he could only assume what Jimmy was doing when he came home late every night, stinking of sweat and sex. But this? This was too much.
Christian finally moved his feet, stepping through the bedroom door that Jimmy hadn’t bothered to close. Jimmy was facing away from the doorway, gingerly stripping off his shirt. Christian chewed on his lips as the young man’s damaged skin was slowly revealed. Jimmy didn’t bother to look up at him as he dropped his tight jeans to the floor and carefully stepped out. His hands hesitated on his tight boxer briefs though, and he finally glanced over his shoulder at Christian.
“Jim?” Christian asked again, stepping just one step closer. Jimmy resisted flinching and averted his eyes.
“You should be asleep, Christ.” His words were soft and uncharacteristically gentle. Christian stepped closer.
“Jimmy...” Christian didn’t know what to say. Jimmy didn’t move and the younger teen stepped into his space. He reached out timidly to touch Jimmy’s shoulder. The bruised punk watched the hand out of the corner of his eyes and let his body be slowly manipulated to face his young counterpart. “Shit...” The breathy voice was swallowed in the tense air. “That’s not right, JIm.” Christian said carefully, feeling pain for his friend.
“That’s life, Kid.” He tried to move, but Christian held him still.
“You can’t do this anymore.” It was an order of sorts, a rule that Christian was laying down. Jimmy didn’t take well to rules. His eyes flew up and met Christian’s, a flame burning in them.
“If you want a place to live, you’ll stay out of my business.” He warned, a tightness in his voice which cut through Christian's chest like a razor.
“There are other ways to make money, Jim.” Christian desperately held in a shiver under the scrutinizing look of the older male, but his voice was strong.
“Kid, you don’t get how the world works, do ya? If you work for the man, you get fucked by the man. If I’m gonna get fucked, I'll do it under the radar, gettin' paid under the radar. There’s big money out there doing just what they don’t want you to do.”
“It’s illegal for a reason, dipshit.” Christian was glaring at Jimmy, and Jimmy was glaring right back. Little moments like this were there to remind Jimmy that Christian wasn’t built for street life. He was still a middle-class kid that could go back home any time he wanted. The little prick was just too stubborn to admit that.
“Your white bread rules are what brought you out here in the first place.” Jimmy gathered what was left of his strength and pulled away from Christian standing tall. “If you want to change something, you can’t go about it by staying in line, can you?” No matter how hurt or tired or fucked up Jimmy was, there was always that little spark that only Christian could light to bring him back to himself. “Can you?”
Christian was silent, knowing that he couldn’t win. They’d had this argument countless times, but it never moved past a stalemate and a shag. Christian let his eyes wander over Jimmy’s battered body and noticed for the first time that there was dried blood between his legs.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” He asked, surrender in his voice. Christian’s shoulders sank and he backed down, for the first time since they’d been together. Jimmy didn’t trust the body language and cast judgemental eyes over the boy.
“You know why.” Jimmy’s voice was shielded, but Christian knew that he, too, was breaking. They couldn’t fight forever.
Christian opened his mouth, a sharp reply on his tongue, but he held it. He instead sighed and held out a hand. Jimmy looked at it a moment before meeting Christian’s eyes.
“You’re better than this.” Christian noted quietly and before Jimmy could say anything, he dropped his hand and turned to leave.
“What makes you think that?” Came a reply as Christian crossed to the door. The boy stopped and looked over his shoulder. “I’m street scum, I’m just a punk living on a prayer.”
“So am I, Jim. I told you, I’m not going back. I’m out to change things.”
“Kid-”
“I don’t wanna fight, not tonight. Just...” Christian looked over the beaten boy and shook his head, cutting off the thoughts from spilling into the air. ...remember that you came from the same place as me. was replaced by, “I’ll be in my bed if you get cold.” He turned and left, door wide open and footsteps silent.
Jimmy stared after him for a full two minutes before looking down at himself. He slowly knelt to his torn jeans and pulled a wad of cash from one of the pockets. Christian was too young, he hadn’t been out long enough, he didn’t understand. Jimmy did what he had to do to keep their place, regardless of the fact that it was a shit hole. Christian didn’t understand that Jimmy had been out there with nothing, not even a name. Christian didn’t understand that Jimmy subjected himself to assholes like the one tonight so that the kid would never have to.
The punk flipped through the old bills, brushing hs tattooed knuckles against the greens. He sighed as the red flashed at him from his drying blood. He knew he didn’t deserve this. He knew that it was dangerous and illegal. And although he wouldn’t ever go as far as recommending the job, it paid. It paid well. And Jimmy was good at it. He made more a night then most made in half of a week. And if that’s what it took to keep Christian from hitting rock bottom, he’d never stop.
Jimmy tucked his money away in his secret storage, behind the broken bricks in the wall. He called out the door, knowing that the kid wasn’t sleeping.
“Christ, come help clean me up?” And just like a puppy, Christian came to him, worry in his eyes and lip between his teeth. Jimmy silently admitted a tiny defeat, allowing Christian to lead him around and take care of him for the night. It was worth everything when he fell asleep in warm, strong arms, feeling a kiss press against his swollen lips with the care that only Christ could have possibly held.
- -
I don't know if I like the title. Any thoughts?
-J X
Fandom: GD
Pairing: Jimmy/Christian
Rating: T
Warn: Prostitution, Lang, Minor slash.
WC: Approx. 1,180.
DC: NOT MINE.
Another in my JC universe.
I found an old piece and finished it. Not sure if I like it or not, but here it is.
A dark and cute piece wherein they realize that sometimes, love is pain.
They are kindle to each other.
Each burns to keep the other.
Each feels the heat.
They are the same, but neither will admit it.
Stalemates create infernoes.
You can only burn both ends for so long.
Someone has to stop the fire sometime... right?
Enjoy.
- -
“Shit...”
Christian looked up from the old ratty couch in the middle of Jimmy’s place when the older punk stumbled in the door cursing. Christian’s eyes went wide at the sight of him. Jimmy closed the door tightly, locking it and leaning against the cold metal. From across the tiny room, Christian could see Jimmy’s black eye and the blood dripping from his nose.
“Jim?” He breathed. Jimmy started and looked up, a gasp crossing his lips. Christian stood, but Jimmy held up a hand to keep him from coming close.
“Go to sleep, kid.” Jimmy grunted, forcing himself from the door and slowly shuffling to the little room in the flat that he’d made his own.
“What happened, Jimmy?” Christian breathed, standing frozen in his place. Jimmy didn’t say a word but looked up with pained eyes. Christian wasn’t stupid, he could only assume what Jimmy was doing when he came home late every night, stinking of sweat and sex. But this? This was too much.
Christian finally moved his feet, stepping through the bedroom door that Jimmy hadn’t bothered to close. Jimmy was facing away from the doorway, gingerly stripping off his shirt. Christian chewed on his lips as the young man’s damaged skin was slowly revealed. Jimmy didn’t bother to look up at him as he dropped his tight jeans to the floor and carefully stepped out. His hands hesitated on his tight boxer briefs though, and he finally glanced over his shoulder at Christian.
“Jim?” Christian asked again, stepping just one step closer. Jimmy resisted flinching and averted his eyes.
“You should be asleep, Christ.” His words were soft and uncharacteristically gentle. Christian stepped closer.
“Jimmy...” Christian didn’t know what to say. Jimmy didn’t move and the younger teen stepped into his space. He reached out timidly to touch Jimmy’s shoulder. The bruised punk watched the hand out of the corner of his eyes and let his body be slowly manipulated to face his young counterpart. “Shit...” The breathy voice was swallowed in the tense air. “That’s not right, JIm.” Christian said carefully, feeling pain for his friend.
“That’s life, Kid.” He tried to move, but Christian held him still.
“You can’t do this anymore.” It was an order of sorts, a rule that Christian was laying down. Jimmy didn’t take well to rules. His eyes flew up and met Christian’s, a flame burning in them.
“If you want a place to live, you’ll stay out of my business.” He warned, a tightness in his voice which cut through Christian's chest like a razor.
“There are other ways to make money, Jim.” Christian desperately held in a shiver under the scrutinizing look of the older male, but his voice was strong.
“Kid, you don’t get how the world works, do ya? If you work for the man, you get fucked by the man. If I’m gonna get fucked, I'll do it under the radar, gettin' paid under the radar. There’s big money out there doing just what they don’t want you to do.”
“It’s illegal for a reason, dipshit.” Christian was glaring at Jimmy, and Jimmy was glaring right back. Little moments like this were there to remind Jimmy that Christian wasn’t built for street life. He was still a middle-class kid that could go back home any time he wanted. The little prick was just too stubborn to admit that.
“Your white bread rules are what brought you out here in the first place.” Jimmy gathered what was left of his strength and pulled away from Christian standing tall. “If you want to change something, you can’t go about it by staying in line, can you?” No matter how hurt or tired or fucked up Jimmy was, there was always that little spark that only Christian could light to bring him back to himself. “Can you?”
Christian was silent, knowing that he couldn’t win. They’d had this argument countless times, but it never moved past a stalemate and a shag. Christian let his eyes wander over Jimmy’s battered body and noticed for the first time that there was dried blood between his legs.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” He asked, surrender in his voice. Christian’s shoulders sank and he backed down, for the first time since they’d been together. Jimmy didn’t trust the body language and cast judgemental eyes over the boy.
“You know why.” Jimmy’s voice was shielded, but Christian knew that he, too, was breaking. They couldn’t fight forever.
Christian opened his mouth, a sharp reply on his tongue, but he held it. He instead sighed and held out a hand. Jimmy looked at it a moment before meeting Christian’s eyes.
“You’re better than this.” Christian noted quietly and before Jimmy could say anything, he dropped his hand and turned to leave.
“What makes you think that?” Came a reply as Christian crossed to the door. The boy stopped and looked over his shoulder. “I’m street scum, I’m just a punk living on a prayer.”
“So am I, Jim. I told you, I’m not going back. I’m out to change things.”
“Kid-”
“I don’t wanna fight, not tonight. Just...” Christian looked over the beaten boy and shook his head, cutting off the thoughts from spilling into the air. ...remember that you came from the same place as me. was replaced by, “I’ll be in my bed if you get cold.” He turned and left, door wide open and footsteps silent.
Jimmy stared after him for a full two minutes before looking down at himself. He slowly knelt to his torn jeans and pulled a wad of cash from one of the pockets. Christian was too young, he hadn’t been out long enough, he didn’t understand. Jimmy did what he had to do to keep their place, regardless of the fact that it was a shit hole. Christian didn’t understand that Jimmy had been out there with nothing, not even a name. Christian didn’t understand that Jimmy subjected himself to assholes like the one tonight so that the kid would never have to.
The punk flipped through the old bills, brushing hs tattooed knuckles against the greens. He sighed as the red flashed at him from his drying blood. He knew he didn’t deserve this. He knew that it was dangerous and illegal. And although he wouldn’t ever go as far as recommending the job, it paid. It paid well. And Jimmy was good at it. He made more a night then most made in half of a week. And if that’s what it took to keep Christian from hitting rock bottom, he’d never stop.
Jimmy tucked his money away in his secret storage, behind the broken bricks in the wall. He called out the door, knowing that the kid wasn’t sleeping.
“Christ, come help clean me up?” And just like a puppy, Christian came to him, worry in his eyes and lip between his teeth. Jimmy silently admitted a tiny defeat, allowing Christian to lead him around and take care of him for the night. It was worth everything when he fell asleep in warm, strong arms, feeling a kiss press against his swollen lips with the care that only Christ could have possibly held.
- -
I don't know if I like the title. Any thoughts?
-J X