Fic: Glasses Part 4 of 4
I figured, why not cap off the week with the end of this fic? A good way to open into the weekend, right? Though now I'll have to start working on all my other FOTC plot bunnies!
Glasses Part 4 of 4
Pairing(s) in the story: Jemaine/Bret (Flight of the Conchords)
Author Name/Pen Name: she_burns1
Disclaimer: I do not own Flight of the Conchords, or Hbo, or Bret, or Jemaine…though I will glad take donations of Bret/Jemaine!
Rating of story: PG
Word Count:1,145
Warnings: None - this one’s clean thus far.
Brief summary: Jemaine loses his glasses and Bret lends a hand.
Notes: First attempt at Mel! This fic gave me a chance to try my hand at everybody! Also, this fic does feature a scene that is exactly like this fantastic piece of art in this post by taconaco. Again, hope she doesn’t mind - I love her work.
Bret and Jemaine checked a few more places but thus far their efforts had been futile. Jemaine had a horrible headache and he kept worrying about his palm sweating as Bret held it. Bret, for his part, was rather cheerful about the whole thing.
For some reason he couldn’t explain he rather liked helping Jemaine out. Taking care of him. And it was nice to hold hands again like they used to. Still, he felt bad that thus far they had had no luck.
They were heading back to the apartment and Jemaine’s mood was very dark, “I’m doomed.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. I can’t see. I’m useless.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am. Without my glasses I’m like half a person. I doubt Superman wants to be Superman all the time. No, he likes the glasses, likes to take a break as Clark Kent. I can’t be Clark Kent without my glasses.”
“I’m…not sure I followed all of that.”
Jemaine waved his free hand irritably. Bret smiled and couldn’t help it, after fighting it most of the day; he gave in and gave Jemaine’s hand a comforting squeeze, “We’ll find them. If not today, then tomorrow. We won’t give up…at least I won’t.”
Jemaine couldn’t help but reward Bret with a little smile. Bret sighed, “Besides, might be good with you like this. Everyone thinks you're angry - we can intimidate them.”
“I don’t think I look angry without my glasses…then again, I haven’t seen myself without them much.”
Jemaine and Bret reached their building’s front steps when Mel appeared, “Oh! Hey guys! Wow! Who knew I’d bump into you tonight of all nights. Isn’t that weird?”
“Hey Mel,” Bret said, holding more tightly to Jemaine’s hand. Maybe it was because, in a way he’d been taking care of him all day, but Bret felt very protective of Jemaine. Without his glasses he was vulnerable. Bret stepped out closer to Mel, trying to shield Jemaine a bit.
“Gee Bret; you’re kind of close to me. Closer than Jemaine. Not that I mind, I’m just saying you’re not usually so…up front. It’s very forward of you. I like it. You being all bold and-and thrusting ahead-”
“Yeah, well, Mel, we really need to-”
“OH! Jemaine! Why are you - you look so intense. Ferocious. Like a woman-eating python or something…”
“I’m not - I don’t look…”
“You look so…masculine tonight. Manly. Like you could just…rip things off or something with your bare hands…” Mel’s gaze went down to their hands and she noticed they were clasped together, she gasped, one hand to her chest, “My god…”
“Jemaine lost his glasses,” Bret explained, “I’ve been helping him…”
“Oh, Bret, that’s so sweet! Helping Jemaine like that! Taking care of him and watching over him and being there for him. You two…together…,” she shook her head lightly, “Jemaine, if I had known your glasses were missing, I would have helped you. Both of you.”
“Thanks, Mel.”
“And holding hands…”
“We’re not - it’s not like that-” Jemaine started.
Mel laughed coquettishly, “Oh, no, holding hands doesn’t make you gay! Now if your hands were roaming each other…touching each other’s chests and…thighs…and nakedly exploring naked flesh…”
“Mel, we really need to go. Got to check the apartment again for Jemaine’s glasses,” Bet said, tugging Jemaine closer to the stairs, then stopping to ask, “Mel, you didn’t-”
“I haven’t seen them,” Mel swore, “If I see them I’ll tell you. I’ll give them to you right away.”
“Ah, ok, thanks.” Bret said and both he and Jemaine went upstairs. Once they were safe up in their apartment Jemaine collapsed on the couch, completely morose. Bret sat down next to him, watching sadly as Jemaine threw his head back, looking miserable.
“I miss my glasses.”
“I know.”
“And I’ve got this awful headache…”
“I can get you some medicine.”
Jemaine took a deep breath and turned his gaze to Bret, “Thanks, man.”
Bret brightened, “Sure.”
“No, really, you’ve been…great.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Bret assured him and reluctantly released Jemaine’s hand to get up and go to the restroom. Before he could enter though, he spotted Jemaine’s bed. His lips screwed up to one side in thought. Maybe Jemaine hadn’t looked hard enough despite what he said.
Bret went to his friend’s bed and began searching through the blankets and sheets. At first he didn’t see anything but when he lifted up Jemaine’s pillow Bret saw his own striped sweater. Now what was that doing here? Bret had been looking for that. Bret reached out a hand and grabbed the sweater when he noticed it felt hard.
Frowning, he sat on the bed and unfolded the sweater. Buried up inside one of the sleeves were Jemaine’s signature black glasses. Joyful, Bret jumped to his feet, his voice sing-song, “Oh Jeeeemaine!”
“What?” Jemaine moaned mournfully.
Bret practically bounced over to the couch, the sweater and glasses in his hands. He sat next to his friend, “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Please?”
Jemaine sighed, Bret had been so good to him all day, how could he say no? He closed his eyes. He felt Bret slide something cool on to his face, “Ok, open your eyes.”
Jemaine opened his eyes and blinked, taking a moment to adjust. The first thing he saw was Bret’s face. He frowned and blinked again. Bret looked…different. He didn’t know what it was. Nothing seemed different.
Bret’s curly hair was like always, but somehow it looked softer, tailor made for someone’s hands to run through (for some reason, Jemaine’s hands now tingled) and his beard was like always but his dark eyes were sparkling. He was smiling too, a warm smile that was open and inexplicably went to Jemaine’s toes and Jemaine realized with some small horror that he thought Bret looked attractive and…
Clear.
Jemaine could see Bret clearly. He pressed a hand up and felt his glasses. Jemaine burst into his own smile, “My glasses! You found them!”
“Yup,” Bret bragged happily.
“Oh, wow, great! Where were they?”
“They were in your bed.”
“Oh? Thought I checked there…”
“I checked again for you. I found them tangled up with my sweater.”
Jemaine froze and, if anything, edged back further into the couch. Bret was, for all the world, innocent, “I still don’t understand how it happened though…why my sweater was in your bed…”
“How should I know? I’m not its keeper!” Jemaine tossed out a bit hysterically. He got to his feet, dramatically yawning, “Oh, long day! Still got a bit of a headache, yeah. Going to get some medicine. Go to bed. Thanks again, man.”
Jemaine retreated to the bathroom, shutting the door smartly behind him.
~~~*~~~~
The next day when Bret got up Jemaine wasn’t home. He frowned, slightly worried as to the whereabouts of his friend but not worried enough to keep him from breakfast. He was eating his cereal when Jemaine came in with a big brown bag.
He sat at the table, his face blank, “Hey Bret.”
“Oh, hey man, how’s it going?”
“Good…good.” Jemaine looked at Bret, then at the bag, then at Bret again, “Um - you almost done with that?”
“Yeah,” Bret said with a shrug.
“Um. Good. I thought, maybe, we could go to the park?”
“Yeah, ok.” Bret said, not quite sure what was going on. He rinsed out his bowl and changed into outdoor clothes. They went to the park, Jemaine carrying the bag the whole way and Bret had to admit he was, once again, curious.
Once they got to the park, Jemaine sat on a bench and Bret followed suit, sitting next to him. Jemaine licked his lips, “So, um, you were kind of my life saver yesterday. You know, my anchor. So. I got you something.”
He handed the bag to Bret, who opened it and looked inside. Bret’s face was priceless, “You got the roller skates!”
Jemaine shrugged like it was no big deal but Bret felt that tugging again. He took the cobra pair out and saw another pair inside. He looked at Jemaine, “Are these for you?”
“Well someone’s got to teach you,” Jemaine said simply and took the bag back from Bret. They changed into the skates and Bret frowned, “How-how did you get the money for these, man?”
Jemaine fidgeted on the bench, looking slightly queasy, “Um, well. If Mel asks you if you want to see some new pictures of…parts of me…just say no.”
Bret leaned back, stunned. Throwing out whether or not it was or wasn’t gay, Bret thought that what Jemaine must have done to get the money for these skates was the most romantic gesture ever.
Jemaine fidgeted again, his ears red, “So, you ready?”
Bret got to his feet unsteadily, wobbling a bit. Jemaine, however, stood easily and rolled around a bit on the sidewalk. Bret watched him with envy as he put both of his hands out, trying to stay upright. He shook and quivered and Jemaine watched him with a smile on his face. He came over and took Bret’s hand, helping him to stand up straight and to start gliding forward; he gave his hand a warm squeeze, “S’okay, Bret. I got your hand.”
Glasses Part 4 of 4
Pairing(s) in the story: Jemaine/Bret (Flight of the Conchords)
Author Name/Pen Name: she_burns1
Disclaimer: I do not own Flight of the Conchords, or Hbo, or Bret, or Jemaine…though I will glad take donations of Bret/Jemaine!
Rating of story: PG
Word Count:1,145
Warnings: None - this one’s clean thus far.
Brief summary: Jemaine loses his glasses and Bret lends a hand.
Notes: First attempt at Mel! This fic gave me a chance to try my hand at everybody! Also, this fic does feature a scene that is exactly like this fantastic piece of art in this post by taconaco. Again, hope she doesn’t mind - I love her work.
Bret and Jemaine checked a few more places but thus far their efforts had been futile. Jemaine had a horrible headache and he kept worrying about his palm sweating as Bret held it. Bret, for his part, was rather cheerful about the whole thing.
For some reason he couldn’t explain he rather liked helping Jemaine out. Taking care of him. And it was nice to hold hands again like they used to. Still, he felt bad that thus far they had had no luck.
They were heading back to the apartment and Jemaine’s mood was very dark, “I’m doomed.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. I can’t see. I’m useless.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am. Without my glasses I’m like half a person. I doubt Superman wants to be Superman all the time. No, he likes the glasses, likes to take a break as Clark Kent. I can’t be Clark Kent without my glasses.”
“I’m…not sure I followed all of that.”
Jemaine waved his free hand irritably. Bret smiled and couldn’t help it, after fighting it most of the day; he gave in and gave Jemaine’s hand a comforting squeeze, “We’ll find them. If not today, then tomorrow. We won’t give up…at least I won’t.”
Jemaine couldn’t help but reward Bret with a little smile. Bret sighed, “Besides, might be good with you like this. Everyone thinks you're angry - we can intimidate them.”
“I don’t think I look angry without my glasses…then again, I haven’t seen myself without them much.”
Jemaine and Bret reached their building’s front steps when Mel appeared, “Oh! Hey guys! Wow! Who knew I’d bump into you tonight of all nights. Isn’t that weird?”
“Hey Mel,” Bret said, holding more tightly to Jemaine’s hand. Maybe it was because, in a way he’d been taking care of him all day, but Bret felt very protective of Jemaine. Without his glasses he was vulnerable. Bret stepped out closer to Mel, trying to shield Jemaine a bit.
“Gee Bret; you’re kind of close to me. Closer than Jemaine. Not that I mind, I’m just saying you’re not usually so…up front. It’s very forward of you. I like it. You being all bold and-and thrusting ahead-”
“Yeah, well, Mel, we really need to-”
“OH! Jemaine! Why are you - you look so intense. Ferocious. Like a woman-eating python or something…”
“I’m not - I don’t look…”
“You look so…masculine tonight. Manly. Like you could just…rip things off or something with your bare hands…” Mel’s gaze went down to their hands and she noticed they were clasped together, she gasped, one hand to her chest, “My god…”
“Jemaine lost his glasses,” Bret explained, “I’ve been helping him…”
“Oh, Bret, that’s so sweet! Helping Jemaine like that! Taking care of him and watching over him and being there for him. You two…together…,” she shook her head lightly, “Jemaine, if I had known your glasses were missing, I would have helped you. Both of you.”
“Thanks, Mel.”
“And holding hands…”
“We’re not - it’s not like that-” Jemaine started.
Mel laughed coquettishly, “Oh, no, holding hands doesn’t make you gay! Now if your hands were roaming each other…touching each other’s chests and…thighs…and nakedly exploring naked flesh…”
“Mel, we really need to go. Got to check the apartment again for Jemaine’s glasses,” Bet said, tugging Jemaine closer to the stairs, then stopping to ask, “Mel, you didn’t-”
“I haven’t seen them,” Mel swore, “If I see them I’ll tell you. I’ll give them to you right away.”
“Ah, ok, thanks.” Bret said and both he and Jemaine went upstairs. Once they were safe up in their apartment Jemaine collapsed on the couch, completely morose. Bret sat down next to him, watching sadly as Jemaine threw his head back, looking miserable.
“I miss my glasses.”
“I know.”
“And I’ve got this awful headache…”
“I can get you some medicine.”
Jemaine took a deep breath and turned his gaze to Bret, “Thanks, man.”
Bret brightened, “Sure.”
“No, really, you’ve been…great.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Bret assured him and reluctantly released Jemaine’s hand to get up and go to the restroom. Before he could enter though, he spotted Jemaine’s bed. His lips screwed up to one side in thought. Maybe Jemaine hadn’t looked hard enough despite what he said.
Bret went to his friend’s bed and began searching through the blankets and sheets. At first he didn’t see anything but when he lifted up Jemaine’s pillow Bret saw his own striped sweater. Now what was that doing here? Bret had been looking for that. Bret reached out a hand and grabbed the sweater when he noticed it felt hard.
Frowning, he sat on the bed and unfolded the sweater. Buried up inside one of the sleeves were Jemaine’s signature black glasses. Joyful, Bret jumped to his feet, his voice sing-song, “Oh Jeeeemaine!”
“What?” Jemaine moaned mournfully.
Bret practically bounced over to the couch, the sweater and glasses in his hands. He sat next to his friend, “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Please?”
Jemaine sighed, Bret had been so good to him all day, how could he say no? He closed his eyes. He felt Bret slide something cool on to his face, “Ok, open your eyes.”
Jemaine opened his eyes and blinked, taking a moment to adjust. The first thing he saw was Bret’s face. He frowned and blinked again. Bret looked…different. He didn’t know what it was. Nothing seemed different.
Bret’s curly hair was like always, but somehow it looked softer, tailor made for someone’s hands to run through (for some reason, Jemaine’s hands now tingled) and his beard was like always but his dark eyes were sparkling. He was smiling too, a warm smile that was open and inexplicably went to Jemaine’s toes and Jemaine realized with some small horror that he thought Bret looked attractive and…
Clear.
Jemaine could see Bret clearly. He pressed a hand up and felt his glasses. Jemaine burst into his own smile, “My glasses! You found them!”
“Yup,” Bret bragged happily.
“Oh, wow, great! Where were they?”
“They were in your bed.”
“Oh? Thought I checked there…”
“I checked again for you. I found them tangled up with my sweater.”
Jemaine froze and, if anything, edged back further into the couch. Bret was, for all the world, innocent, “I still don’t understand how it happened though…why my sweater was in your bed…”
“How should I know? I’m not its keeper!” Jemaine tossed out a bit hysterically. He got to his feet, dramatically yawning, “Oh, long day! Still got a bit of a headache, yeah. Going to get some medicine. Go to bed. Thanks again, man.”
Jemaine retreated to the bathroom, shutting the door smartly behind him.
~~~*~~~~
The next day when Bret got up Jemaine wasn’t home. He frowned, slightly worried as to the whereabouts of his friend but not worried enough to keep him from breakfast. He was eating his cereal when Jemaine came in with a big brown bag.
He sat at the table, his face blank, “Hey Bret.”
“Oh, hey man, how’s it going?”
“Good…good.” Jemaine looked at Bret, then at the bag, then at Bret again, “Um - you almost done with that?”
“Yeah,” Bret said with a shrug.
“Um. Good. I thought, maybe, we could go to the park?”
“Yeah, ok.” Bret said, not quite sure what was going on. He rinsed out his bowl and changed into outdoor clothes. They went to the park, Jemaine carrying the bag the whole way and Bret had to admit he was, once again, curious.
Once they got to the park, Jemaine sat on a bench and Bret followed suit, sitting next to him. Jemaine licked his lips, “So, um, you were kind of my life saver yesterday. You know, my anchor. So. I got you something.”
He handed the bag to Bret, who opened it and looked inside. Bret’s face was priceless, “You got the roller skates!”
Jemaine shrugged like it was no big deal but Bret felt that tugging again. He took the cobra pair out and saw another pair inside. He looked at Jemaine, “Are these for you?”
“Well someone’s got to teach you,” Jemaine said simply and took the bag back from Bret. They changed into the skates and Bret frowned, “How-how did you get the money for these, man?”
Jemaine fidgeted on the bench, looking slightly queasy, “Um, well. If Mel asks you if you want to see some new pictures of…parts of me…just say no.”
Bret leaned back, stunned. Throwing out whether or not it was or wasn’t gay, Bret thought that what Jemaine must have done to get the money for these skates was the most romantic gesture ever.
Jemaine fidgeted again, his ears red, “So, you ready?”
Bret got to his feet unsteadily, wobbling a bit. Jemaine, however, stood easily and rolled around a bit on the sidewalk. Bret watched him with envy as he put both of his hands out, trying to stay upright. He shook and quivered and Jemaine watched him with a smile on his face. He came over and took Bret’s hand, helping him to stand up straight and to start gliding forward; he gave his hand a warm squeeze, “S’okay, Bret. I got your hand.”