14. Love
Jon knows better than to expect Tom at the airport, even though he texted his flight details. He shoulders his duffel and walks away from Baggage and out into the cold to grab a taxi.
He shows up at Tom's twenty minutes later, and finds the door open and waiting. He sets down his bag and kicks it once, and then opens up the side compartment to grab the Hollywood sign snow globe he bought from a street vendor in LA. And then he heads toward the living room.
A couple of merry shouts - Al is there, and Ryan, and they high-five and backslap and Tom doesn't get up from the couch, from where the guitar is cradled on his lap, but he does beam up at Jon in a way that doesn't normally seem possible for him. Jon shrugs out of his coat and sets the snow globe on the coffee table and then slumps onto the couch. Tom angles the guitar up, getting the neck out of the way, and Jon gives him a grateful look and scoots over until his head is on Tom's shoulder.
"Hey," Conrad mutters, shoving a pick in his teeth and squinting as he starts fiddling with the tuning.
"Hey."
Tom pauses long enough to reach a bottle of Jack on the coffee table, and hands it over to Jon, who takes an obligatory swig. He watches Jon for another handful of seconds, taking him in carefully, composition and line and symmetry and the stark unhappiness on his face. "Jonny," he half-sighs, and slips an arm around his shoulders, a hand into his hair. "Chicago missed you," he mumbles, mouth pressed against Jon's warm hair.
"Missed it too," Jon admits after a small pause. He takes another long sip from the bottle, wincing as he pulls it away.
"Well, you're here now," Tom says, straightening up a little, making Jon sit up (though he keeps the arm around him). "It counts."
12/08
He shows up at Tom's twenty minutes later, and finds the door open and waiting. He sets down his bag and kicks it once, and then opens up the side compartment to grab the Hollywood sign snow globe he bought from a street vendor in LA. And then he heads toward the living room.
A couple of merry shouts - Al is there, and Ryan, and they high-five and backslap and Tom doesn't get up from the couch, from where the guitar is cradled on his lap, but he does beam up at Jon in a way that doesn't normally seem possible for him. Jon shrugs out of his coat and sets the snow globe on the coffee table and then slumps onto the couch. Tom angles the guitar up, getting the neck out of the way, and Jon gives him a grateful look and scoots over until his head is on Tom's shoulder.
"Hey," Conrad mutters, shoving a pick in his teeth and squinting as he starts fiddling with the tuning.
"Hey."
Tom pauses long enough to reach a bottle of Jack on the coffee table, and hands it over to Jon, who takes an obligatory swig. He watches Jon for another handful of seconds, taking him in carefully, composition and line and symmetry and the stark unhappiness on his face. "Jonny," he half-sighs, and slips an arm around his shoulders, a hand into his hair. "Chicago missed you," he mumbles, mouth pressed against Jon's warm hair.
"Missed it too," Jon admits after a small pause. He takes another long sip from the bottle, wincing as he pulls it away.
"Well, you're here now," Tom says, straightening up a little, making Jon sit up (though he keeps the arm around him). "It counts."
12/08