Fic: Feels Like Home, Part 3/5
Feels Like Home
Part 3/5
Pairing(s) in the story: Jemaine/Bret (Flight of the Conchords)
Author Name/Pen Name: she_burns1
Beta: lordstarfish
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: R
Word Count: 3,163
Warnings: Alcohol use, steaminess
Brief summary: A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it. - George Moore
It might have been the most successful gig they had ever done.
Twenty one people came, beating their old record of twenty. Murray forgot to bring pencils, but did offer paperclips (he happened to have a few on him) and this won over several people. There was a nice smattering of applause at the end and Bret’s parents cheered.
Bret’s Mum and Dad hugged both of them, avoiding Murray, who was also looking for a set of hugs. Bret’s Mum told Jemaine to ‘look after her little boy’ and Bret’s Dad gave him a few pats on the shoulder. Jemaine was confused and Bret was red-faced.
Bret’s cousins, Nick and Lucas, had also come to the gig and complimented the two of them on the best show they’d seen since that traveling rock-juggler. They asked them if they wanted to go out for some drinks and just as Bret was about to refuse, Jemaine jumped on the chance.
Murray came along as well, even though he was something of a fifth wheel. They ended up at a rather nice pub near the shoreline of a large lake. Jemaine mumbled about how there had better not be any penguins around and Bret assured him that he had dealt with most of them on the way to his folks’ place.
“Bret, Jemaine, since you were the heroes of the night, I’ll buy the first round of drinks,” Nick offered cheerily, “What would you guys like?”
“We’ll both have water-” Bret started to say but Jemaine spoke over him, “What are you having?”
Nick shrugged, “Probably a beer.”
“I’ll have that.”
Bret frowned at Jemaine, who merely leaned back into the booth where they sat. Murray nodded, “I’ll have the same. We should celebrate! That was a great gig!”
“I’ll stick to water,” Bret said glumly.
Lucas asked for a beer as well and Nick quickly went to the bar to get their drinks. He came back with four tall mugs of beer and one plastic cup of water. Lucas downed his quickly. Murray sipped at his, his face slightly scrunched up at the taste. Jemaine gulped one large half, made a face of disgust and then quickly gulped the second half. Lucas patted him on the back, “Man after my own liver.”
Bret drank his water quietly, voice still morose, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Cheer up, man! Next round is on me!” Lucas said. Lucas was followed by Murray and then back to Nick again. Soon enough Bret had had two waters, Lucas two beers, Nick two beers, Murray one beer and one water and Jemaine had had three beers and was working on his fourth.
Considering Jemaine never drank much (or at all), he was pretty much gone. Lucas had said he was ‘three sheets to the wind’ but Bret didn’t quite understand what that meant. Maybe he was talking about what Dave called ‘sensitive nautical shit’. Though when he had said it, no girls had been around to be impressed by it.
Girls were trickling in though. Jemma, Nick’s girlfriend, arrived, as well as a few Fitzpatricks’. There were some other girls as well, but Bret only vaguely recognized a few of them.
And he really wasn’t paying too much attention to them, as Jemaine seemed to slink closer and closer to the floor. His eyes were glassy and he kept muttering songs under his breath. Bret put a hand on his shoulder, “You ok, man?”
“Bret…Bret…Bretbretbret…”
“Yes?”
“’member…tha…pap’rc’anes…”
“Huh?”
“Pap’r…cranes…folded ‘im when you had th’ orgasm…”
“The what?!”
“Orgam…or-gam,” Jemaine struggled to say the right word, but eventually gave up and switched to something else, “Howz ‘bout th’ hoop, ‘member that?”
Bret’s eyebrows knitted together, “No. Don’t think so. Don’t really understand you, either.”
“You hada hula hoop. Wanted it…lot…”
“Ohhhh,” Bret leaned back, eyes widening a little at the memory, “Yeah. I remember that. Bought it at Dave’s. Used it a few times.”
Jemaine sat up, his movements labored. His eyes were cast down on the table and he put his elbows on it. His face was almost contorted as he seemed to be using all his effort to concentrate on what he was doing. Once his elbows were in order, he rested his face in the palms of his hands, eyes still downward, “You only used it once. Then…got bored…didn’t want it ‘nmore…”
Bret leaned back, wondering what he was talking about when Murray came over, “Hey, Bret. Jemaine. I had a great time, but I’m going to go. Mum doesn’t like it when I get in too late. You guys going to be ok?”
“We’ll be fine, Murray.” Bret assured him.
Jemaine’s elbows gave way and his face hit the table with a loud thud. Murray looked concerned, “He all right?”
“He’ll be fine,” Bret said as he ran a comforting hand along Jemaine’s back, “I got him.”
“You sure? Look, I know tonight was a big success for you guys, but I don’t want you living the rock and roll lifestyle too hard too quickly. Don’t want you to become alcoholics like Johnny Ramone.”
“Joey.”
“Johnny. Joey. Johnny Joe Ramone. Drank too much! Look what happened to him! Broke up the band, killed him-”
“No, wasn’t that-”
“Regardless, you watch him, Bret.”
“I will.”
“You take care of yourself, Jemaine.”
Jemaine answered with a weak wave. Murray left and Bret rubbed slow circles on Jemaine’s back. The jukebox in the pub started pumping out loud music and Bret put his mouth close to Jemaine’s ear, his voice soft, “Would you like me to get you a sparkling water?”
Jemaine nodded, not removing his head from the table.
Bret walked up to the bar, which was surrounded by a throng of people, mostly girls, and asked for a sparkling water. One girl squeezed her way in next to him and started chattering loudly. He tried politely-but quickly-to send her off and on her way.
Jemaine had finally managed to raise his head from the table and saw Bret with the girl. He scowled, running a hand clumsily through his hair as he let out a loud breath. Of course Bret was with a girl. He was always with a girl. He would always be with a girl.
He lumbered to his feet and managed to push through the people around the bar, slouching against it. A group of girls giggled flirtatiously and quickly swarmed around him. Jemaine could barely understand half the things they said. One of them poked a finger between his eyes, touching his glasses and he giggled stupidly. She smiled, “My name’s Anna. You want to join us in a drink, handsome?”
Jemaine was beyond speech and merely gave something of a lazy nod.
Anna flagged down the bartender and ordered some shots. They were made quickly, tiny glasses filled with some fluorescent colored drink. Anna toasted, something about rugby. The group of girls and Jemaine slugged the drinks down. Bret came over, the girl who had been throwing herself at him bringing up the rear. He grabbed Jemaine by the shoulder, frowning. “What are you doing?”
“Drinkin’.”
“Murray told me to watch you. You’ve had too much.”
“Oh, he’s too much, all right!” Anna howled and kissed his cheek, “He’s delectable!”
“Let’s make him our mascot!” another girl crowed.
“Bret, Ima mascot!”
“I heard. Come on,” Bret grabbed Jemaine’s hand firmly and yanked him from the clutches of the girls. They looked a bit put out at first but as their next round of shots came, they quickly got over it.
Bret steered Jemaine towards the exit, “You need some fresh air.”
“Playin’ Beatles…ya hear tha, Bret? Bretbret…hear it?” Jemaine slurred enthusiastically.
Bret sighed, “I do, I do.”
They walked out into the empty parking lot and Jemaine put his arms out and ran, “Love th’s song! Love it…’m walrus, ‘m eggman… Coo coo, kachoo, coo coo kachoo!”
“Jemaine!” Bret wailed as he hurried to catch up to him. Jemaine collapsed in the grass a few feet away from the parking lot, close to the lake. He lay on his back, chuckling to himself, arms raised above him, “Ev’ry thing spin’n! I c’n see ‘m hands move.”
Bret rolled his eyes and laid down next to him, staring up at the sky. There were no clouds, the stars out in full force. It was cold, biting, but not enough to make him rush back inside. It was probably better out here for Jemaine anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Bret kept thinking of that woman kissing Jemaine’s cheek and he realized that his teeth were grinding together audibly. He breathed in through his nose and stopped. Patience. They lay there in silence for quite some time, looking at the stars, neither talking. When Jemaine finally did speak again, his voice was quiet, “My Mum’s sick.”
“You said.”
“Pretty bad.”
“I thought-”
“She’ll live…prob’ly.”
Bret’s head turned and he looked at Jemaine. Jemaine didn’t look back at him and another silence descended. Eventually Jemaine whispered, his tone sobering, “My Mum didn’t want me t’ go. T’ ‘merica. Always thought…thought I’d get over th’ whole band thing and geta real job. Work at th’ new phone place.”
He sat up and Bret followed suit. Jemaine’s hands fiddled with a few blades of grass, then he drew his knees up close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, “Didn’t talk much after I left. She was mad at me. Thought we’d make up. She didn’t want me t’ go, but I did. Wanted t’ go, t’ be in the band…be with you…”
The last part was said so faintly that Bret almost didn’t hear it. He didn’t know what to say. He felt frozen.
“She talked t’ me. When I saw her. But…she’s sick…I wish she’d told me sooner. That’s all,” his face crumpled for a second, and suddenly Bret’s heart was wretched with love for him.
Oh.
Bret blinked rapidly as the realization set in. Oh oh oh. He was…in love with Jemaine. But just yesterday, it was like, not love…
He shrugged a little to himself and decided it wasn’t all that shocking. He didn’t feel bad about the change. He felt better, in fact…He loved Jemaine. Of course, the major drawback to this was that Jemaine did not love him back.
Bret wanted to reach out and touch him, but he didn’t, because Jemaine buried his face against his knees a moment then drew away from them and was himself again, “’S nothing. If it was really, really bad I’m sure…”
He shook his head a few times, sniffling a bit. Bret licked his lips and said softly, “Well, I thought something was wrong.”
“Oh?”
“You…drank an awful lot in there.”
“So’d you.”
“I drank water.”
“Hnn,” Jemaine shrugged a little, “Ground’s still movin’. Looks like….waves.”
“And you seemed sort of…like you were repressing something.”
Jemaine laughed a laugh that had no humor in it as he looked out over the water, “I’m repressing a lot of things these days.”
“Like what?”
Jemaine turned to Bret, wobbling a little. He unfolded himself and reached out an unsteady hand, cupping Bret’s cheek. His hands were trembling and it was hard to say what exactly was causing it.
He looked at his friend uncertainly, head cocked to one side. Then he came in, his lips touching Bret’s softly. It was a gentle kiss, sweet and slow, no hint of urgency. He drew back and licked his lips, waiting to see what his friend would do.
Bret blinked, voice low, “Thought…you just wanted to be friends…”
“I do…I do…”
Bret’s lips hummed and he knew he shouldn’t but he just inched himself a little closer to Jemaine and it seemed as if Jemaine did the same. They were looking at each other and not looking at each other and then, simultaneously, they came together.
There was still some mild gracelessness as, at first, they both tilted their heads in the one direction and then, at the same time, they both tilted their heads in the other. Finally they both found their place and they gave each other closed mouth kisses and didn’t touch as both were afraid to touch the other.
Eventually Jemaine got over this, touching the side of Bret’s face again and then sliding his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, his tongue easing out just a little to swipe at his friend’s bottom lip. Bret moaned softly and his mouth opened so Jemaine could come inside and heat kindled up between them.
Jemaine’s breath was hot and sour. He tasted like lemon and something alcoholic and Bret vaguely wondered if this was getting him drunk as his head started spinning.
His equilibrium was certainly off, as the last he remembered he had been sitting upright and now he was somehow lying down on the cool grass and Jemaine’s warm body was over his, blanketing him and it felt good on so many levels.
Bret realized his hands were grasping at Jemaine’s back and he didn’t even know he was talking in between kisses until he heard his own voice, breathless and desperate, “…tell me this is…happening…”
And this had been a thought in his head, he didn’t know he was expressing it out loud. But he wanted Jemaine to say something too, wanted him to confirm it. He wanted Jemaine to say that he wouldn’t pull away a third time. That he wouldn’t say that this didn’t happen or that this was wrong. He wanted him to say a lot of things.
But instead Jemaine pulled away a little and his face pressed up near Bret’s ear as he shook his head a little. His tone quiet and mournful, "…why’s it s’ good with you? Ev’ry time…"
And Bret almost wanted to push him away. He almost wanted to let out a noise of frustration and push him off and curse him out but he didn’t, because, as pathetic as it was, he wanted to be physical with him more than anything else, so he just shifted until he could direct Jemaine back to him and kissed him again.
But this time Bret was more aggressive and as he kissed Jemaine back, his fingers knotted in his hair to the point of being almost painful. And suddenly their positions reversed and Bret was over top of Jemaine, his fingers leaving his hair to run along Jemaine’s sides and he found exposed flesh where Jemaine’s shirt had ridden up and he touched there, easing his fingers up under his shirt. The skin was smooth and there was hair where there wouldn’t be hair on a girl but for some reason it was sort of thrilling and Bret realized Jemaine was trembling and it turned him on to a point he didn’t think was possible.
Bret’s mouth left Jemaine’s again and he said his friend’s name because he wanted Jemaine to hear him say his name. He wanted Jemaine to know who he was with and he wanted him to love it. He wanted Jemaine to touch him and he could hear himself again, and he was not entirely coherent, “Jemaine…touch…oh…touch…”
Jemaine made a low, desperate noise and then Bret was back beneath him once more, his hands on Bret’s hips and they clutched to the sides of his belt, tugging, and forcing Bret’s lower body into his, practically grinding them together. Bret cried out because he couldn’t help it and he felt something and oh god oh god oh god…he knew what he felt against him and he thought it would weird him out more than it did.
Instead it drove a sharp pang of arousal deep in the center of him and his own hardness throbbed in response. And Jemaine’s hands moved between them and he gripped at Bret’s upper thigh almost viciously. He muttered breathy, filthy curse words as he edged closer to between his friend’s legs.
Bret threw his head back when Jemaine finally touched him and Bret knew he had to stop this because if he didn’t…oh…ohhh if he didn’t…
“Jemaine, w-wait, wait…”
Jemaine didn’t stop, his hand getting used to the feel of Bret and moving and it didn’t feel quite right (the angle was sort of off) but, honestly, it didn’t have to. And Bret was seeing stars that weren’t in the sky, his body betraying him as his whole being surged up into it and he was so close.
More than half of him was at the point where he wouldn’t be able to stop, but the other, smaller part told him that they were outside a pub in the grass, in public.
“N-n-no, stop, stop…”
“Thought you wanted this…” Jemaine gasped as his movements slowed and they looked in each other’s eyes. Really looked and this time neither one looked away. Jemaine’s eyes were dark and Bret saw the desire there and he knew more than ever that Jemaine lied to himself and that he loved this.
Still, he managed to speak, though only just. “I do, I do…but…too fast…”
And Jemaine went so still that Bret worried he’d said the wrong thing but instead Jemaine laughed and drew away, “’Course.”
Jemaine got off of Bret and he felt cold as the night air rushed back against him. Bret flashed back to the last two times and he sat up rigidly, looking critically at Jemaine. He waited for the look of terror or anger but for once, Jemaine didn’t have either of those looks.
Instead, he just looked kind of tired.
Bret’s voice was sharp, “This did happen.”
Jemaine sighed.
“Jemaine…”
Jemaine looked at him, almost resigned.
“…this happened.”
Jemaine shook his head and looked away, “Bret…you should like girls.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
“But I like you more.”
Jemaine looked back at him and for a second he looked so overwhelmed that Bret’s heart broke a little. Jemaine, why can’t someone love you? Bret reached out this time, running his fingers along Jemaine’s face as he gave him a little smile, “I like you more than anybody.”
He didn’t say love. Not yet. He wouldn’t say love until Jemaine loved him back. If he ever did. Jemaine looked away and groaned, “My head’s startin’ t’ ache.”
“Let’s get back to the hotel then.”
“Stomach hurts too.”
“You going to be sick?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm. Better go.”
They both got to their feet and their clothes were rumpled and covered in grass but no one at the pub saw a thing.
Okay, so here I will admit that I really don't know much about Music. Seriously. I'm like Murray with my facts but, unlike him, I'm not going to talk about music and music history like I know it! ;)
So, I did some research for this part, as there is mention of The Ramones! *gasp* I even provide linked sources to back me up!:Rolling Stones - Ramones Biography,Musician's Guide Ramones Biography, and Marky Ramone Interview
Apparently the band went through many member changes, and Marky and Dee Dee had the worst problems with drinking but Joey had some drinking issues as well and that's what I went with. However, if one of you is a huge Ramones fan and I am completely off base and my research is bullishment, please let me know and I can correct and such! Look at me, with my little references, like a little Lit Paper! Seriously though, I like to have my facts straight and hey, I learned something new, so good for me. Maybe I put too much time/work into a silly little fan fiction but *shrugs*.
Also, I am getting crazy excited about 'Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist', which comes out Friday...I don't know why, but I think it looks really good and I'm looking forward to see it. I just got the soundtrack and it's pretty decent. I like that it's a mix of bands/musicians I've never heard of before.
Kristen Schaal was also in the latest issue of Bust - lordstarfish, you and I MUST start a comm for her on LJ! It was your idea (I saw it in your LJs yo!) but I want to help!
Part 3/5
Pairing(s) in the story: Jemaine/Bret (Flight of the Conchords)
Author Name/Pen Name: she_burns1
Beta: lordstarfish
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: R
Word Count: 3,163
Warnings: Alcohol use, steaminess
Brief summary: A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it. - George Moore
It might have been the most successful gig they had ever done.
Twenty one people came, beating their old record of twenty. Murray forgot to bring pencils, but did offer paperclips (he happened to have a few on him) and this won over several people. There was a nice smattering of applause at the end and Bret’s parents cheered.
Bret’s Mum and Dad hugged both of them, avoiding Murray, who was also looking for a set of hugs. Bret’s Mum told Jemaine to ‘look after her little boy’ and Bret’s Dad gave him a few pats on the shoulder. Jemaine was confused and Bret was red-faced.
Bret’s cousins, Nick and Lucas, had also come to the gig and complimented the two of them on the best show they’d seen since that traveling rock-juggler. They asked them if they wanted to go out for some drinks and just as Bret was about to refuse, Jemaine jumped on the chance.
Murray came along as well, even though he was something of a fifth wheel. They ended up at a rather nice pub near the shoreline of a large lake. Jemaine mumbled about how there had better not be any penguins around and Bret assured him that he had dealt with most of them on the way to his folks’ place.
“Bret, Jemaine, since you were the heroes of the night, I’ll buy the first round of drinks,” Nick offered cheerily, “What would you guys like?”
“We’ll both have water-” Bret started to say but Jemaine spoke over him, “What are you having?”
Nick shrugged, “Probably a beer.”
“I’ll have that.”
Bret frowned at Jemaine, who merely leaned back into the booth where they sat. Murray nodded, “I’ll have the same. We should celebrate! That was a great gig!”
“I’ll stick to water,” Bret said glumly.
Lucas asked for a beer as well and Nick quickly went to the bar to get their drinks. He came back with four tall mugs of beer and one plastic cup of water. Lucas downed his quickly. Murray sipped at his, his face slightly scrunched up at the taste. Jemaine gulped one large half, made a face of disgust and then quickly gulped the second half. Lucas patted him on the back, “Man after my own liver.”
Bret drank his water quietly, voice still morose, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Cheer up, man! Next round is on me!” Lucas said. Lucas was followed by Murray and then back to Nick again. Soon enough Bret had had two waters, Lucas two beers, Nick two beers, Murray one beer and one water and Jemaine had had three beers and was working on his fourth.
Considering Jemaine never drank much (or at all), he was pretty much gone. Lucas had said he was ‘three sheets to the wind’ but Bret didn’t quite understand what that meant. Maybe he was talking about what Dave called ‘sensitive nautical shit’. Though when he had said it, no girls had been around to be impressed by it.
Girls were trickling in though. Jemma, Nick’s girlfriend, arrived, as well as a few Fitzpatricks’. There were some other girls as well, but Bret only vaguely recognized a few of them.
And he really wasn’t paying too much attention to them, as Jemaine seemed to slink closer and closer to the floor. His eyes were glassy and he kept muttering songs under his breath. Bret put a hand on his shoulder, “You ok, man?”
“Bret…Bret…Bretbretbret…”
“Yes?”
“’member…tha…pap’rc’anes…”
“Huh?”
“Pap’r…cranes…folded ‘im when you had th’ orgasm…”
“The what?!”
“Orgam…or-gam,” Jemaine struggled to say the right word, but eventually gave up and switched to something else, “Howz ‘bout th’ hoop, ‘member that?”
Bret’s eyebrows knitted together, “No. Don’t think so. Don’t really understand you, either.”
“You hada hula hoop. Wanted it…lot…”
“Ohhhh,” Bret leaned back, eyes widening a little at the memory, “Yeah. I remember that. Bought it at Dave’s. Used it a few times.”
Jemaine sat up, his movements labored. His eyes were cast down on the table and he put his elbows on it. His face was almost contorted as he seemed to be using all his effort to concentrate on what he was doing. Once his elbows were in order, he rested his face in the palms of his hands, eyes still downward, “You only used it once. Then…got bored…didn’t want it ‘nmore…”
Bret leaned back, wondering what he was talking about when Murray came over, “Hey, Bret. Jemaine. I had a great time, but I’m going to go. Mum doesn’t like it when I get in too late. You guys going to be ok?”
“We’ll be fine, Murray.” Bret assured him.
Jemaine’s elbows gave way and his face hit the table with a loud thud. Murray looked concerned, “He all right?”
“He’ll be fine,” Bret said as he ran a comforting hand along Jemaine’s back, “I got him.”
“You sure? Look, I know tonight was a big success for you guys, but I don’t want you living the rock and roll lifestyle too hard too quickly. Don’t want you to become alcoholics like Johnny Ramone.”
“Joey.”
“Johnny. Joey. Johnny Joe Ramone. Drank too much! Look what happened to him! Broke up the band, killed him-”
“No, wasn’t that-”
“Regardless, you watch him, Bret.”
“I will.”
“You take care of yourself, Jemaine.”
Jemaine answered with a weak wave. Murray left and Bret rubbed slow circles on Jemaine’s back. The jukebox in the pub started pumping out loud music and Bret put his mouth close to Jemaine’s ear, his voice soft, “Would you like me to get you a sparkling water?”
Jemaine nodded, not removing his head from the table.
Bret walked up to the bar, which was surrounded by a throng of people, mostly girls, and asked for a sparkling water. One girl squeezed her way in next to him and started chattering loudly. He tried politely-but quickly-to send her off and on her way.
Jemaine had finally managed to raise his head from the table and saw Bret with the girl. He scowled, running a hand clumsily through his hair as he let out a loud breath. Of course Bret was with a girl. He was always with a girl. He would always be with a girl.
He lumbered to his feet and managed to push through the people around the bar, slouching against it. A group of girls giggled flirtatiously and quickly swarmed around him. Jemaine could barely understand half the things they said. One of them poked a finger between his eyes, touching his glasses and he giggled stupidly. She smiled, “My name’s Anna. You want to join us in a drink, handsome?”
Jemaine was beyond speech and merely gave something of a lazy nod.
Anna flagged down the bartender and ordered some shots. They were made quickly, tiny glasses filled with some fluorescent colored drink. Anna toasted, something about rugby. The group of girls and Jemaine slugged the drinks down. Bret came over, the girl who had been throwing herself at him bringing up the rear. He grabbed Jemaine by the shoulder, frowning. “What are you doing?”
“Drinkin’.”
“Murray told me to watch you. You’ve had too much.”
“Oh, he’s too much, all right!” Anna howled and kissed his cheek, “He’s delectable!”
“Let’s make him our mascot!” another girl crowed.
“Bret, Ima mascot!”
“I heard. Come on,” Bret grabbed Jemaine’s hand firmly and yanked him from the clutches of the girls. They looked a bit put out at first but as their next round of shots came, they quickly got over it.
Bret steered Jemaine towards the exit, “You need some fresh air.”
“Playin’ Beatles…ya hear tha, Bret? Bretbret…hear it?” Jemaine slurred enthusiastically.
Bret sighed, “I do, I do.”
They walked out into the empty parking lot and Jemaine put his arms out and ran, “Love th’s song! Love it…’m walrus, ‘m eggman… Coo coo, kachoo, coo coo kachoo!”
“Jemaine!” Bret wailed as he hurried to catch up to him. Jemaine collapsed in the grass a few feet away from the parking lot, close to the lake. He lay on his back, chuckling to himself, arms raised above him, “Ev’ry thing spin’n! I c’n see ‘m hands move.”
Bret rolled his eyes and laid down next to him, staring up at the sky. There were no clouds, the stars out in full force. It was cold, biting, but not enough to make him rush back inside. It was probably better out here for Jemaine anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Bret kept thinking of that woman kissing Jemaine’s cheek and he realized that his teeth were grinding together audibly. He breathed in through his nose and stopped. Patience. They lay there in silence for quite some time, looking at the stars, neither talking. When Jemaine finally did speak again, his voice was quiet, “My Mum’s sick.”
“You said.”
“Pretty bad.”
“I thought-”
“She’ll live…prob’ly.”
Bret’s head turned and he looked at Jemaine. Jemaine didn’t look back at him and another silence descended. Eventually Jemaine whispered, his tone sobering, “My Mum didn’t want me t’ go. T’ ‘merica. Always thought…thought I’d get over th’ whole band thing and geta real job. Work at th’ new phone place.”
He sat up and Bret followed suit. Jemaine’s hands fiddled with a few blades of grass, then he drew his knees up close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, “Didn’t talk much after I left. She was mad at me. Thought we’d make up. She didn’t want me t’ go, but I did. Wanted t’ go, t’ be in the band…be with you…”
The last part was said so faintly that Bret almost didn’t hear it. He didn’t know what to say. He felt frozen.
“She talked t’ me. When I saw her. But…she’s sick…I wish she’d told me sooner. That’s all,” his face crumpled for a second, and suddenly Bret’s heart was wretched with love for him.
Oh.
Bret blinked rapidly as the realization set in. Oh oh oh. He was…in love with Jemaine. But just yesterday, it was like, not love…
He shrugged a little to himself and decided it wasn’t all that shocking. He didn’t feel bad about the change. He felt better, in fact…He loved Jemaine. Of course, the major drawback to this was that Jemaine did not love him back.
Bret wanted to reach out and touch him, but he didn’t, because Jemaine buried his face against his knees a moment then drew away from them and was himself again, “’S nothing. If it was really, really bad I’m sure…”
He shook his head a few times, sniffling a bit. Bret licked his lips and said softly, “Well, I thought something was wrong.”
“Oh?”
“You…drank an awful lot in there.”
“So’d you.”
“I drank water.”
“Hnn,” Jemaine shrugged a little, “Ground’s still movin’. Looks like….waves.”
“And you seemed sort of…like you were repressing something.”
Jemaine laughed a laugh that had no humor in it as he looked out over the water, “I’m repressing a lot of things these days.”
“Like what?”
Jemaine turned to Bret, wobbling a little. He unfolded himself and reached out an unsteady hand, cupping Bret’s cheek. His hands were trembling and it was hard to say what exactly was causing it.
He looked at his friend uncertainly, head cocked to one side. Then he came in, his lips touching Bret’s softly. It was a gentle kiss, sweet and slow, no hint of urgency. He drew back and licked his lips, waiting to see what his friend would do.
Bret blinked, voice low, “Thought…you just wanted to be friends…”
“I do…I do…”
Bret’s lips hummed and he knew he shouldn’t but he just inched himself a little closer to Jemaine and it seemed as if Jemaine did the same. They were looking at each other and not looking at each other and then, simultaneously, they came together.
There was still some mild gracelessness as, at first, they both tilted their heads in the one direction and then, at the same time, they both tilted their heads in the other. Finally they both found their place and they gave each other closed mouth kisses and didn’t touch as both were afraid to touch the other.
Eventually Jemaine got over this, touching the side of Bret’s face again and then sliding his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, his tongue easing out just a little to swipe at his friend’s bottom lip. Bret moaned softly and his mouth opened so Jemaine could come inside and heat kindled up between them.
Jemaine’s breath was hot and sour. He tasted like lemon and something alcoholic and Bret vaguely wondered if this was getting him drunk as his head started spinning.
His equilibrium was certainly off, as the last he remembered he had been sitting upright and now he was somehow lying down on the cool grass and Jemaine’s warm body was over his, blanketing him and it felt good on so many levels.
Bret realized his hands were grasping at Jemaine’s back and he didn’t even know he was talking in between kisses until he heard his own voice, breathless and desperate, “…tell me this is…happening…”
And this had been a thought in his head, he didn’t know he was expressing it out loud. But he wanted Jemaine to say something too, wanted him to confirm it. He wanted Jemaine to say that he wouldn’t pull away a third time. That he wouldn’t say that this didn’t happen or that this was wrong. He wanted him to say a lot of things.
But instead Jemaine pulled away a little and his face pressed up near Bret’s ear as he shook his head a little. His tone quiet and mournful, "…why’s it s’ good with you? Ev’ry time…"
And Bret almost wanted to push him away. He almost wanted to let out a noise of frustration and push him off and curse him out but he didn’t, because, as pathetic as it was, he wanted to be physical with him more than anything else, so he just shifted until he could direct Jemaine back to him and kissed him again.
But this time Bret was more aggressive and as he kissed Jemaine back, his fingers knotted in his hair to the point of being almost painful. And suddenly their positions reversed and Bret was over top of Jemaine, his fingers leaving his hair to run along Jemaine’s sides and he found exposed flesh where Jemaine’s shirt had ridden up and he touched there, easing his fingers up under his shirt. The skin was smooth and there was hair where there wouldn’t be hair on a girl but for some reason it was sort of thrilling and Bret realized Jemaine was trembling and it turned him on to a point he didn’t think was possible.
Bret’s mouth left Jemaine’s again and he said his friend’s name because he wanted Jemaine to hear him say his name. He wanted Jemaine to know who he was with and he wanted him to love it. He wanted Jemaine to touch him and he could hear himself again, and he was not entirely coherent, “Jemaine…touch…oh…touch…”
Jemaine made a low, desperate noise and then Bret was back beneath him once more, his hands on Bret’s hips and they clutched to the sides of his belt, tugging, and forcing Bret’s lower body into his, practically grinding them together. Bret cried out because he couldn’t help it and he felt something and oh god oh god oh god…he knew what he felt against him and he thought it would weird him out more than it did.
Instead it drove a sharp pang of arousal deep in the center of him and his own hardness throbbed in response. And Jemaine’s hands moved between them and he gripped at Bret’s upper thigh almost viciously. He muttered breathy, filthy curse words as he edged closer to between his friend’s legs.
Bret threw his head back when Jemaine finally touched him and Bret knew he had to stop this because if he didn’t…oh…ohhh if he didn’t…
“Jemaine, w-wait, wait…”
Jemaine didn’t stop, his hand getting used to the feel of Bret and moving and it didn’t feel quite right (the angle was sort of off) but, honestly, it didn’t have to. And Bret was seeing stars that weren’t in the sky, his body betraying him as his whole being surged up into it and he was so close.
More than half of him was at the point where he wouldn’t be able to stop, but the other, smaller part told him that they were outside a pub in the grass, in public.
“N-n-no, stop, stop…”
“Thought you wanted this…” Jemaine gasped as his movements slowed and they looked in each other’s eyes. Really looked and this time neither one looked away. Jemaine’s eyes were dark and Bret saw the desire there and he knew more than ever that Jemaine lied to himself and that he loved this.
Still, he managed to speak, though only just. “I do, I do…but…too fast…”
And Jemaine went so still that Bret worried he’d said the wrong thing but instead Jemaine laughed and drew away, “’Course.”
Jemaine got off of Bret and he felt cold as the night air rushed back against him. Bret flashed back to the last two times and he sat up rigidly, looking critically at Jemaine. He waited for the look of terror or anger but for once, Jemaine didn’t have either of those looks.
Instead, he just looked kind of tired.
Bret’s voice was sharp, “This did happen.”
Jemaine sighed.
“Jemaine…”
Jemaine looked at him, almost resigned.
“…this happened.”
Jemaine shook his head and looked away, “Bret…you should like girls.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
“But I like you more.”
Jemaine looked back at him and for a second he looked so overwhelmed that Bret’s heart broke a little. Jemaine, why can’t someone love you? Bret reached out this time, running his fingers along Jemaine’s face as he gave him a little smile, “I like you more than anybody.”
He didn’t say love. Not yet. He wouldn’t say love until Jemaine loved him back. If he ever did. Jemaine looked away and groaned, “My head’s startin’ t’ ache.”
“Let’s get back to the hotel then.”
“Stomach hurts too.”
“You going to be sick?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm. Better go.”
They both got to their feet and their clothes were rumpled and covered in grass but no one at the pub saw a thing.
Okay, so here I will admit that I really don't know much about Music. Seriously. I'm like Murray with my facts but, unlike him, I'm not going to talk about music and music history like I know it! ;)
So, I did some research for this part, as there is mention of The Ramones! *gasp* I even provide linked sources to back me up!:Rolling Stones - Ramones Biography,Musician's Guide Ramones Biography, and Marky Ramone Interview
Apparently the band went through many member changes, and Marky and Dee Dee had the worst problems with drinking but Joey had some drinking issues as well and that's what I went with. However, if one of you is a huge Ramones fan and I am completely off base and my research is bullishment, please let me know and I can correct and such! Look at me, with my little references, like a little Lit Paper! Seriously though, I like to have my facts straight and hey, I learned something new, so good for me. Maybe I put too much time/work into a silly little fan fiction but *shrugs*.
Also, I am getting crazy excited about 'Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist', which comes out Friday...I don't know why, but I think it looks really good and I'm looking forward to see it. I just got the soundtrack and it's pretty decent. I like that it's a mix of bands/musicians I've never heard of before.
Kristen Schaal was also in the latest issue of Bust - lordstarfish, you and I MUST start a comm for her on LJ! It was your idea (I saw it in your LJs yo!) but I want to help!