Jesse/Andrew:: Cause you're the only song I want to hear {fic}
pairing: Jesse/Andrew, Jesse/Justin Bartha if you squint
rating: PG-13
word count: 1766
summary: Andrew reminisces, and pines. Lots of UST.
The thing is, Andrew can’t tell exactly when it happened. He can’t pin-point a moment when realization hit him and he knew. Maybe it’s always been there, somehow, and they were too afraid to acknowledge it. Now they’re in Jesse’s apartment, months later and they’re giggling and Jesse looks happy and there are cats everywhere, but he can’t stop this bittersweet feeling creeping inside of him. It feels like having a taste of something you know you’ll never really have. It feels like being so close and yet so far to everything you’ve ever wanted. It feels like missing Jesse even when he’s around.
Moments like these bring back memories. Memories of Boston, where it was only the two of them and nothing else mattered. Memories of that night, going back to the flat they shared during filming, giddy with happiness, and laughing at Jesse’s deadpan jokes. Standing in front of the building for no reason, sobering down and looking into Jesse’s eyes, glowing in the dark.
“So, tonight was fun,” Jesse says, his voice suddenly hesitant. Andrew doesn’t even think before taking one more step towards him and hugging him. He just has to. He’s not sure he’s ever held anyone so close -and yet not close enough, or felt his heart tightening like that, and they’re wrapped up in each other, the infinity of the night surrounding them.
Because that’s how Jesse makes him feel. And Jesse- he wishes Jesse could see himself in Andrew’s eyes, how beautiful and perfect he really is.
~
There’s that time, before the first big press conference for the film release, when Andrew is lending Jesse his shirt. Some wardrobe problem and Andrew has this pink dress shirt in his dressing room that he’s not wearing tonight so it’s the easiest solution. Jesse’s not feeling too well, big events like these always make him nervous, even more so than usual, and he just mutters in agreement. Andrew rushes back to his dressing room, fidgeting through his stuff, his mind distracted by the undying thought that he is the worse friend ever because Jesse isn’t feeling good right now and he can’t seem to make him feel better. He finally finds the damn shirt and goes back to Jesse, carefully getting closer to where he is standing in front of the mirror.
“Are you okay?” he asks sofly, trying to catch his gaze in their reflection. He feels him taking a big breath and turning around to face him. He’s looking everywhere but into his eyes.
“Yeah, it’s alright, it’s always like that… Just-don’t worry. It’s okay,” he replies, his voice weak. “You, um, brought the shirt?”
“Yeah. Yes,” he looks down at the shirt he forgot he was holding.
Jesse awkwardly takes off his worn-out blue tee, and Andrew has to look away for a second because-Because this is a lot to handle, and he still feels like a creeper nonetheless. Jesse then takes the dress shirt and puts it on quickly.
“Come here,” Andrew says. Jesse warily takes a step closer to him, his ice blue eyes questioning.
Andrew gives him a reassuring smile and starts buttoning the shirt for him, from the last button, then slowly going up, his hands resting lightly against his chest and raising his gaze to meet Jesse’s eyes, already on him. He can feel his heartbeat. He finally smoothes down the shirt, and Jesse clears his throat.
“You’re beautiful,” he hears himself saying. Jesse blushes, his cheeks matching the light pink shirt. Time seems to have stopped around them, and if someone asked Andrew where they are right now, he honestly couldn’t reply.
“Um. Thank you,” he says, smiling, his voice quiet but more confident than earlier. “We should… We should go now, they’re probably waiting for us,” and just like that, he’s out of the room and Andrew is still trying to process what just happened.
~
Then it just feels like they’re standing on the edge. The edge between what they are, and what they could be. Things don’t actually change between them. They still talk about books and scripts they’re reading, and when Jesse comes up with one of his witty one-liners wearing that dead serious face of his, Andrew bursts out laughing and everything just feels right. But there’s a new uncertainty, a new undertone between them. Something that snuck up along the way and is now subtly lying in the way they look at each other sometimes or in the faintest touches they share. It’s fluttering, and elusive, but it’s here and it’s real and it keeps Andrew awake at night.
One time, when they’ve basically finished promoting the movie and awards season has yet to start, they find themselves in some club in New-York, along with the rest of the cast. Armie is sitting across Joe and Josh at a table in a corner, his giant limbs sprawled out on the sofa. Justin managed to get Andrew with him on the dance floor and Andrew was too drunk to resist. (“Stop with the moping, Garfield. It’s not cute, even on you,”)
Now he’s chatting up some girl and Andrew keeps doing what he hasn’t stopped doing since the beginning of the night. Staring at Jesse and that Bartha dude from across the room. Of course, he had to be there, tonight, at the same place, with that stupid face of his. They’re standing close by the bar, probably sharing a private joke. Justin lives in New-York like Jesse, they’ve been friends for years and he probably knows everything there is to know about him. It makes Andrew want to die a little. Jesse is giggling softly into his drink, he seems relaxed… happy. Bartha leans in even closer, lays a hand on his upper arm and whispers god knows what in his ear. Jesse bites his lips and looks up at him from under his lashes. And then they’re laughing again, and Bartha’s holding him close and playfully kissing Jesse’s temple and Andrew feels sick.
“What’s going on, man?” Justin elbows him.
“I have to- I need to get out,” he walks away sloppily, dizzy with alcohol, and out of the club. It’s like getting his head from under the water, only to find out he still can’t breathe. Not even two seconds later, Jesse is in front of him. His hair is disheveled and his cheeks flushed and he looks beautiful.
“Are you okay?” Jesse asks carefully.
“I’m okay. I’m perfect,” he replies mockingly. “How are you, Jesse? You were smiling earlier. You were having fun, weren’t you?”
“You’re wasted,” Jesse sighs.
“Nah. Believe me, I wish I was, right now” They stare at each other, defiant. Jesse’s the first to look away.
“I’m going back inside. You’re coming?”
“No,”
Jesse shakes his head, turns his back and- Andrew grabs him by the wrist and spins him around.
“No. No, no, no,” he repeats. “You’re not going anywhere,”
He’s still holding his wrist tightly and slurring in his ear. Jesse’s eyes are wandering all over Andrew’s face, as if he doesn’t recognize him. Andrew smirks and tightens his grip even more, enough to leave bruises.
“What the fuck, Andrew, you’re hurting me,” Jesse hisses. If he wasn’t so drunk and miserable, he might actually have laughed at the irony. Andrew pushes him against the wall.
“Why do you do that, why do you… keep doing that, Jesse you can’t always-why are you afraid?” he babbles incoherently, his voice getting weaker and weaker. Jesse doesn’t move, his eyes are closed. “Jesse, please. Look at me,” Andrew thinks for a second that if someone walking down the street saw them, they’d probably think they’re cuddling. He holds Jesse and presses their foreheads together. “You’re mine. You know you’re mine,” he whispers, so low that Jesse will be able to pretend he never heard it.
Andrew is a mess. Jesse calls him a cab and watches him leave with sad eyes. The next time they see each other, they’re wearing suits, and Jesse is hesitant for a second but Andrew grins until his eyes crinkle when he sees him, and maybe things can be okay.
Andrew will never know that Jesse changed his mind that one night and left without even saying goodbye to Justin.
~
Standing on Jesse’s balcony, Andrew has to grip the railing a little tighter as memories of the past few months make him feel light-headed. He knows he’s being selfish, and he hates himself for that. Because he loves Jesse and he wants him to be happy, and if he can be happy without him- with someone else… Then he doesn’t have the right to be upset. He didn’t lose Jesse, because he never had him. He should be grateful for whatever he has right now, instead. He should.
He watches his cigarette burning, idly. The lights of the city in front of him seem to twinkle from afar. His vision is getting blurry. He hears Jesse taking tiny steps behind him. He doesn’t move, but he can actually feel the atmosphere getting suddenly tense. It doesn’t last though. Jesse comes to him and sneaks his arms around his waist, resting his head against his shoulder blades. It’s the first time he’s ever initiated contact, but Andrew tries not to think about it. He takes a big breath, his muscles relaxing a little bit. Jesse’s palms are on his torso and he can probably feel every little movement of Andrew’s body.
He swallows the lump in his throat and turns around slowly in Jesse’s arms. He is startled by the way Jesse looks into his eyes, unwavering and disarmingly honest. In this moment, he can’t help but think that Jesse is a thousand times braver than he will ever be. He pulls the cigarette out of his hand and takes a long drag. Andrew licks his lips as he watches Jesse’s mouth wrapping around it. He then tosses it on the floor. Andrew can’t bring himself to look at him. But Jesse takes one step closer, exhaling loudly, and gently takes his face in his thin hands. He presses their lips together softly, and it’s a little shaky because Jesse’s standing on his tiptoes. Then it’s over and there’s not one piece of Andrew’s skin not shivering. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he hears Jesse mumbling “shut up,” before kissing him again, and this time Andrew holds him, and he’s not letting go.
rating: PG-13
word count: 1766
summary: Andrew reminisces, and pines. Lots of UST.
The thing is, Andrew can’t tell exactly when it happened. He can’t pin-point a moment when realization hit him and he knew. Maybe it’s always been there, somehow, and they were too afraid to acknowledge it. Now they’re in Jesse’s apartment, months later and they’re giggling and Jesse looks happy and there are cats everywhere, but he can’t stop this bittersweet feeling creeping inside of him. It feels like having a taste of something you know you’ll never really have. It feels like being so close and yet so far to everything you’ve ever wanted. It feels like missing Jesse even when he’s around.
Moments like these bring back memories. Memories of Boston, where it was only the two of them and nothing else mattered. Memories of that night, going back to the flat they shared during filming, giddy with happiness, and laughing at Jesse’s deadpan jokes. Standing in front of the building for no reason, sobering down and looking into Jesse’s eyes, glowing in the dark.
“So, tonight was fun,” Jesse says, his voice suddenly hesitant. Andrew doesn’t even think before taking one more step towards him and hugging him. He just has to. He’s not sure he’s ever held anyone so close -and yet not close enough, or felt his heart tightening like that, and they’re wrapped up in each other, the infinity of the night surrounding them.
Because that’s how Jesse makes him feel. And Jesse- he wishes Jesse could see himself in Andrew’s eyes, how beautiful and perfect he really is.
~
There’s that time, before the first big press conference for the film release, when Andrew is lending Jesse his shirt. Some wardrobe problem and Andrew has this pink dress shirt in his dressing room that he’s not wearing tonight so it’s the easiest solution. Jesse’s not feeling too well, big events like these always make him nervous, even more so than usual, and he just mutters in agreement. Andrew rushes back to his dressing room, fidgeting through his stuff, his mind distracted by the undying thought that he is the worse friend ever because Jesse isn’t feeling good right now and he can’t seem to make him feel better. He finally finds the damn shirt and goes back to Jesse, carefully getting closer to where he is standing in front of the mirror.
“Are you okay?” he asks sofly, trying to catch his gaze in their reflection. He feels him taking a big breath and turning around to face him. He’s looking everywhere but into his eyes.
“Yeah, it’s alright, it’s always like that… Just-don’t worry. It’s okay,” he replies, his voice weak. “You, um, brought the shirt?”
“Yeah. Yes,” he looks down at the shirt he forgot he was holding.
Jesse awkwardly takes off his worn-out blue tee, and Andrew has to look away for a second because-Because this is a lot to handle, and he still feels like a creeper nonetheless. Jesse then takes the dress shirt and puts it on quickly.
“Come here,” Andrew says. Jesse warily takes a step closer to him, his ice blue eyes questioning.
Andrew gives him a reassuring smile and starts buttoning the shirt for him, from the last button, then slowly going up, his hands resting lightly against his chest and raising his gaze to meet Jesse’s eyes, already on him. He can feel his heartbeat. He finally smoothes down the shirt, and Jesse clears his throat.
“You’re beautiful,” he hears himself saying. Jesse blushes, his cheeks matching the light pink shirt. Time seems to have stopped around them, and if someone asked Andrew where they are right now, he honestly couldn’t reply.
“Um. Thank you,” he says, smiling, his voice quiet but more confident than earlier. “We should… We should go now, they’re probably waiting for us,” and just like that, he’s out of the room and Andrew is still trying to process what just happened.
~
Then it just feels like they’re standing on the edge. The edge between what they are, and what they could be. Things don’t actually change between them. They still talk about books and scripts they’re reading, and when Jesse comes up with one of his witty one-liners wearing that dead serious face of his, Andrew bursts out laughing and everything just feels right. But there’s a new uncertainty, a new undertone between them. Something that snuck up along the way and is now subtly lying in the way they look at each other sometimes or in the faintest touches they share. It’s fluttering, and elusive, but it’s here and it’s real and it keeps Andrew awake at night.
One time, when they’ve basically finished promoting the movie and awards season has yet to start, they find themselves in some club in New-York, along with the rest of the cast. Armie is sitting across Joe and Josh at a table in a corner, his giant limbs sprawled out on the sofa. Justin managed to get Andrew with him on the dance floor and Andrew was too drunk to resist. (“Stop with the moping, Garfield. It’s not cute, even on you,”)
Now he’s chatting up some girl and Andrew keeps doing what he hasn’t stopped doing since the beginning of the night. Staring at Jesse and that Bartha dude from across the room. Of course, he had to be there, tonight, at the same place, with that stupid face of his. They’re standing close by the bar, probably sharing a private joke. Justin lives in New-York like Jesse, they’ve been friends for years and he probably knows everything there is to know about him. It makes Andrew want to die a little. Jesse is giggling softly into his drink, he seems relaxed… happy. Bartha leans in even closer, lays a hand on his upper arm and whispers god knows what in his ear. Jesse bites his lips and looks up at him from under his lashes. And then they’re laughing again, and Bartha’s holding him close and playfully kissing Jesse’s temple and Andrew feels sick.
“What’s going on, man?” Justin elbows him.
“I have to- I need to get out,” he walks away sloppily, dizzy with alcohol, and out of the club. It’s like getting his head from under the water, only to find out he still can’t breathe. Not even two seconds later, Jesse is in front of him. His hair is disheveled and his cheeks flushed and he looks beautiful.
“Are you okay?” Jesse asks carefully.
“I’m okay. I’m perfect,” he replies mockingly. “How are you, Jesse? You were smiling earlier. You were having fun, weren’t you?”
“You’re wasted,” Jesse sighs.
“Nah. Believe me, I wish I was, right now” They stare at each other, defiant. Jesse’s the first to look away.
“I’m going back inside. You’re coming?”
“No,”
Jesse shakes his head, turns his back and- Andrew grabs him by the wrist and spins him around.
“No. No, no, no,” he repeats. “You’re not going anywhere,”
He’s still holding his wrist tightly and slurring in his ear. Jesse’s eyes are wandering all over Andrew’s face, as if he doesn’t recognize him. Andrew smirks and tightens his grip even more, enough to leave bruises.
“What the fuck, Andrew, you’re hurting me,” Jesse hisses. If he wasn’t so drunk and miserable, he might actually have laughed at the irony. Andrew pushes him against the wall.
“Why do you do that, why do you… keep doing that, Jesse you can’t always-why are you afraid?” he babbles incoherently, his voice getting weaker and weaker. Jesse doesn’t move, his eyes are closed. “Jesse, please. Look at me,” Andrew thinks for a second that if someone walking down the street saw them, they’d probably think they’re cuddling. He holds Jesse and presses their foreheads together. “You’re mine. You know you’re mine,” he whispers, so low that Jesse will be able to pretend he never heard it.
Andrew is a mess. Jesse calls him a cab and watches him leave with sad eyes. The next time they see each other, they’re wearing suits, and Jesse is hesitant for a second but Andrew grins until his eyes crinkle when he sees him, and maybe things can be okay.
Andrew will never know that Jesse changed his mind that one night and left without even saying goodbye to Justin.
~
Standing on Jesse’s balcony, Andrew has to grip the railing a little tighter as memories of the past few months make him feel light-headed. He knows he’s being selfish, and he hates himself for that. Because he loves Jesse and he wants him to be happy, and if he can be happy without him- with someone else… Then he doesn’t have the right to be upset. He didn’t lose Jesse, because he never had him. He should be grateful for whatever he has right now, instead. He should.
He watches his cigarette burning, idly. The lights of the city in front of him seem to twinkle from afar. His vision is getting blurry. He hears Jesse taking tiny steps behind him. He doesn’t move, but he can actually feel the atmosphere getting suddenly tense. It doesn’t last though. Jesse comes to him and sneaks his arms around his waist, resting his head against his shoulder blades. It’s the first time he’s ever initiated contact, but Andrew tries not to think about it. He takes a big breath, his muscles relaxing a little bit. Jesse’s palms are on his torso and he can probably feel every little movement of Andrew’s body.
He swallows the lump in his throat and turns around slowly in Jesse’s arms. He is startled by the way Jesse looks into his eyes, unwavering and disarmingly honest. In this moment, he can’t help but think that Jesse is a thousand times braver than he will ever be. He pulls the cigarette out of his hand and takes a long drag. Andrew licks his lips as he watches Jesse’s mouth wrapping around it. He then tosses it on the floor. Andrew can’t bring himself to look at him. But Jesse takes one step closer, exhaling loudly, and gently takes his face in his thin hands. He presses their lips together softly, and it’s a little shaky because Jesse’s standing on his tiptoes. Then it’s over and there’s not one piece of Andrew’s skin not shivering. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he hears Jesse mumbling “shut up,” before kissing him again, and this time Andrew holds him, and he’s not letting go.