Fic: Champagne Fic
Champagne Picnic
Pairing(s) in the story: Bret/Jemaine, with mentions of Bret/Demetri
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 gladly take donations of Bret/Jemaine!
Rating of story: R
Word Count: 4,443
Warnings: Alcohol, Minor Angst, Public Naughtiness, Aggressive!Bret
Brief summary: Jemaine and Bret go on a picnic.
Notes: Based on a dream ballroombubble had. She said I could write it, so I did. Hopefully it lives up to the dream! Also, I apparently have a fetish for Aggressive!Bret.
To say the sun was sparkling in the sky above New York was an understatement. The clear autumn day was so picturesque, it was hard to fathom that it even existed. How was it possible that a day could be so glorious?
Jemaine quietly questioned the validity of such a perfect day as he walked into the park, a blanket rolled and tucked beneath his arm. Bret walked to one side of him, a large brown wicker basket held firmly in both hands. Bret wouldn’t tell Jemaine what was inside, but apparently it held quite a load, as now and then Bret grunted and shifted his hold on the handle.
Jemaine kept eyeing the basket suspiciously, because last he checked Bret hadn’t owned a basket like that, and he was very curious as to where it had come from. There were several people in the park today, but some how they managed to carve out their own, private space.
Bret was very leery of the location at first, scrutinizing every bit of it for used condoms or other unpleasantries. Once satisfied, he gave a nod and Jemaine spread the blanket out and found a comfortable seat on the ground, his back against the closest tree.
Bret set down the basket and sat down as well, legs crossed Indian-style. Jemaine squinted as he looked around the spot they’d chosen, breathing in deeply, “This is nice. Good shade, breeze…can’t see any girls though.”
“Yeah, but remember what Dave said. Can’t be too obvious when it comes to girls. Have to look lonely. Girls like it better if you look lonely. More likely to come over and talk to us then.”
“How can I look lonely if you’re here?”
Bret frowned, “You want I should leave then?”
“No. Don’t be ridiculous, Bret. If you leave, I’ll be by myself with the blanket and the basket…it’ll look weird. Who has a picnic by themselves?”
“Murray?”
“Oh. Yes. Still…doesn’t seem right...”
“But…you just said…if you’re not by yourself you can’t look lonely-”
Jemaine let out a hiss, “Hmm, yes, but, no, I think…in this particular instance it looks better with you here. Maybe not lonely but, you know, maybe some girls will come by, see us with the picnic and want to join in for…you know, the sake of it.”
“No one can resist a picnic?”
“Yes.” Jemaine dragged out this word, not sure if his logic was correct but sticking to it regardless. Bret didn’t really question it any further, as he was eager to dig into the basket and enjoy the day.
Frankly, Bret didn’t really care if girls came by or not, as he was actually more interested in spending time with Jemaine than anything else. It was nice to be outdoors on a day like this, hanging with his best mate, not worrying about band practice or when their next gig would be or when Eugene would fix the toilet in their apartment so it didn’t make that scary noise when you flushed it.
He took in his own deep breath and smiling, opened the basket and started taking items out, “Okay, let’s see what we have here…”
Jemaine watched eagerly as Bret dug into the mystery basket, as now he would finally get some answers as to what lay inside. Bret removed each item one at a time, announcing them aloud as if they were guests arriving at a party, “We’ve got champagne here. Wine Glasses, Caviar…crackers, as well. Oh look, Jemaine, mixed nuts! I know you like those…chocolates…different flavors even…this one says it’s amaretto and this other one says it’s double chocolate…white russian? This chocolate has a nationality?” Bret shrugged, “Hmm, oh well…and then there’s…oh, that’s not food so-”
Bret snapped the basket shut and looked at everything laid out before them, “Well! Which one do you want to try first?”
Jemaine held the champagne bottle and looked at Bret with one raised eyebrow, “This is Dom Perignon.”
“I thought it was champagne.”
“No, it is champagne, Bret.”
Bret looked confused so Jemaine turned the bottle allowing Bret to see the name printed on the label, “So…the champagne has a name?”
“This champagne is very expensive. Actually…I think a lot of this stuff is. Where did you get it?”
Bret’s attempt to look innocent bordered on comical. “Nowhere.”
Jemaine’s eyes narrowed and he pointed at the basket, “What else is in there?”
“Nothing.”
“Bret, you have a terrible poker face.”
Bret looked confused again, “We’re not playing poker.”
“It’s an expression-look, Bret-there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“No there’s not!” Bret said it so emphatically that it merely drove the point home, making Jemaine nothing if not more suspicious.
“There is. Come on, out with it, then. Where did you get the basket and what else is in there.”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
“But it is.”
“It’s none of your business, actually.”
“Give me that,” Jemaine snatched up the basket quickly. Bret attempted to lunge after it but missed as Jemaine quickly rose to his feet and edged the basket open. He reached inside and pulled out a CD. He looked it over, “Is this it? Bret…’s just a CD.”
“Yeah, exactly, see? Nothing, but, you know - you should just give that to me,” Bret said as he rose to his knees and tried to steal it back. Jemaine easily side stepped him, “Hang on…it’s a mixed CD. Some Pearl Jam, Bee Gees, Bowie…some…is this…jazz?”
Bret rolled his head about his shoulders, not answering as he tried again, unsuccessfully, to get the CD away from Jemaine, who was now popping the case open, “Bret…there’s a note in here.”
“Oh? Is there?”
“’S got your name on it.”
“Then it’s for me, isn’t it, so you should give it back-”
Jemaine ignored him and opened the note, his eyes scanning over it even as Bret spoke up, “Oh! Hey! That’s rude! That’s mine-”
“’Hey man, how’s it going,’” Jemaine read aloud, voice a little hushed, “’not much here. Tour’s good, hope things are well, miss playing with you, miss looking at you when I turn my head to the left on stage, miss…you…hmm hmm…Bret…this is from…Demetri?!”
Bret licked his lips, looking anxious, “It’s…nothing.”
Jemaine was clutching the note rather more firmly than necessary as he continued reading, eyes wider than usual, “He fancies you?”
“No, no. He’s never…it’s not like that.”
Jemaine turned the note out to face Bret and jabbed at one section, “What about this part right here where it says he fancies you?”
Bret peered up at the note, squinting as he tried to read it from his position, “I’m sure it…doesn’t say that.”
Jemaine cleared his throat and read from the note again, “’Made this CD for you, listen to it and let me know what you think. Maybe you’ll hear it and think of me, I think of you-‘”
“Oh, well, see, right there, that doesn’t mean he fancies me. Doesn’t say anything like that. Not that I’ve had a chance to read it properly since you’ve taken it from me-”
“Bret,” Jemaine looked a bit stunned, “How long has this been going on?”
“How long has what been going on?” Bret asked, his tone full of despair.
Jemaine waved his arms exaggeratedly, indicated the note and the basket, “This! You and Demetri!”
“Not…not long. It’s nothing. Really.”
“Are you…I mean, he’s…gay, I guess…are-are you…are you,” Jemaine seemed to be struggling with all these revelations, walking in tiny little paces back and forth, “You two are…dating?”
“No!” Bret said firmly, “No, no we are definitely not dating!”
“Then what-”
“He just,” Bret shrugged, “He just…started sending me letters one day. Eugene gave me the first one, actually, when he came to fix our air.”
“Fix our…Bret that was almost six months ago.”
“Yeah,” Bret ducked his head, looking guilty.
“This has been going on for six months?!”
“Just…we’re kind of like…pen pals. He’s lonely is all. Out on tour…he doesn’t really have anyone else to talk to. We’ve just been writing back and forth. Some times…I mean, occasionally he sends…gifts.”
“I can see that!” Jemaine said, the volume of his voice escalating uncomfortably.
“You’re…angry?”
“No!” Jemaine said this rather more adamantly than needed and took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “No…no…no, no, no. I’m…not angry. I’m not. I just…I wasn’t aware…you and Demetri…had a thing…”
“We don’t have a thing! There is no me and Demetri or Demetri and I or I mean, there is no…us. We’re just friends, Jemaine. That’s all. Don’t see where it’s any of your business anyhow. I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“Oh. Yes. Right. Well. Fine then.” Jemaine snapped and sat back down, arms crossed, looking terribly put out.
Bret sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Come on, Jemaine…don’t ruin this…it’s a nice day. We’ve got the champagne-”
“You drink it. I don’t want anything from your love basket.”
“It’s not-”
“Or maybe I should say Demetri’s love basket. To you. Since you two are-”
“We’re not!” Bret said hotly, “I don’t know why you…maybe I should just go.”
Bret got to his feet and brushed himself off, jamming his hands forcefully into his jeans’ pockets, Jemaine scowled, “That’s right, you just go off then. Go write Demetri a letter, why don’t you?”
“Maybe I will.” Bret said briskly and started to walk away.
Jemaine took in a deep breath and realized his chest felt tight, his vision growing blurry. Oh no. He took in a few quick breaths and got to his feet. He watched Bret walking away and felt himself propelled forward, “Bret! Bret, wait!”
Bret kept walking, determinedly ignoring him, but Jemaine kept calling, his voice so pathetic that Bret couldn’t help but stop. He didn’t turn around though, instead waiting for Jemaine to catch up to him. Jemaine walked in front of him, looking terribly chagrined, “Bret…I’m…you know, sorry...I guess. I don’t know…why I was-”
Jemaine seemed at a loss as to what to say and Bret just shook his head, “It’s ok, man.”
“Really?”
Bret cracked a bit of a grin, “Yeah. It’s all right…I know how you can be.”
Jemaine raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”
“You’re the jealous type.”
“Aw! No, I’m not!”
“You are though,” Bret offered, growing considerably more cheery as he teased his friend, “Back in Uni, you got all livid about me talking to Weston Miller during that play-”
“Well, you were ignoring me-”
“You weren’t even there! You went on a date with Claire Fitzpatrick and then afterwards I told you I went out with Weston.”
“Yes, well, Weston was a questionable character, I just didn’t want him to take advantage of you, so, you know, that’s not jealousy, that’s just me looking out for you. Having your best interests at heart, that’s more a positive than a negative.”
Bret shook his head, “Whatever. You still want to have our picnic then?”
Jemaine shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, “Nnn…yeah. Yeah. Yes, bit hungry.”
“You change your mind on taking things from the ‘love basket’?”
“No reason to let it go to waste,” Jemaine said gruffly, “’Sides, not like he can eat it with you.”
They both walked back to the basket and blanket, resuming their positions on the ground. Jemaine took the tin of mixed nuts and cracked it open, picking out the cashews. Bret ate a few of the chocolates and smiled, “This stuff is pretty good.”
Jemaine made a non-committal sound in his throat as he ate, his gaze flickering to the CD and note now and then. He couldn’t help himself, “So…you sure you don’t…fancy him?”
“Who?”
“Demetri.”
Bret shook his head, “No. I mean…I don’t even think he…feels that way about me.”
“Bret, he sent you an expensive basket of champagne and chocolates…he made you a mixed CD.”
“Yeah, but, his letters, I mean…there was nothing in them that indicated he-”
“He says he misses you. A lot. He wrote that he thinks about you all the time.”
“I think about you all the time. That doesn’t mean-” Bret flushed and stopped talking, as he suddenly wondered if maybe thinking about Jemaine all the time meant more than he thought it did.
Jemaine, however, didn’t notice as he was more caught on how Bret really did seem completely oblivious to how Demetri clearly felt about him. What was it with Bret? First bastard girls and now…bastard boys? It was too much. Jemaine felt the need for constant vigilance in regards to his naïve friend.
He opened the jar of caviar and dipped a cracker in. He had no idea what caviar was, so he looked at it a bit skeptically, “I wonder if Demetri would be mad that you’re sharing this with me.”
“Doubt it. It’s my present. I can do whatever I want with it.”
“Thanks then. To you or to Demetri or…whoever.”
Bret picked up the champagne and unraveled the foil until the cork was exposed and looked at it hesitantly, “Um, I know the cork pops out all crazy when you open one of these…you-you want to…pop it?”
“You scared, Bret?”
“A little.”
Jemaine tossed the cracker into his mouth and started chewing it, making a bit of a face as he tasted caviar for the first time, “Hand it over. I’ll open it.”
Bret gave him the bottle and Jemaine pointed the cork away from both of them. Honestly, he was a little nervous as well, not sure how much the cork would fly from the bottle. Would it be like a mini explosion? Still, the taste of the caviar distracted him enough to make him not think about it too deeply as he worked the cork free.
The cork flew out with a satisfyingly loud ‘pop’ and the champagne surged forward, foaming over. Jemaine cried out as the cold liquid bubbled on to him. Bret laughed and quickly grabbed the glasses, trying to capture some of it as the rest splashed over on to him as well.
They both ended up a little soaked, but otherwise no worse for wear as they took their separate glasses. Jemaine’s nose scrunched up as he tried to wipe himself off on the blanket, “Champagne got all over me…”
“Me too, didn’t know this drink was so entertaining.”
“Mm, should we do a toast?”
“What for?”
“Well, I mean, I think it’s just…sort of done…in these situations.”
“Like, a tradition?”
Jemaine shrugged and Bret smiled, nodding, “Okay, yeah, toast.”
There was a silence and Bret cleared his throat, “Um…you have one?”
“No, you?”
“Nope.”
“Huh,” Jemaine tapped his glasses lightly against Bret, “Cheers, then.”
They both sipped at the champagne and Bret licked his lips, grinning. “Oh wow! This is good! Much better than beer.”
“You need the toilet?”
“No…actually…think I can drink some more.” Bret took another drink, this one bigger and longer. He let out a refreshed sigh, “Oh, yes. Like this. I’ve had champagne before but this…’s really good.”
“Guess you only like the finest.”
“Is this the finest?”
“It’s expensive so…yes?”
“Oh. Then I guess so.”
They both sat in a happy silence, quietly drinking until they had empty glasses, only to refill them and drink some more. Considering neither of them drank often, and the fact that they didn’t have much on their stomachs, they both felt tipsy rather quickly.
Bret found himself giggling, “How you feelin’, Jemaine?”
“Good,” Jemaine said with any easy smile, “You?”
“Feel a bit…light.”
“You’re not getting drunk over there, are you? We’ve barely had anything.”
“Not drunk…just…less than sober.”
“Mmm, me too, I think. I also feel…light. Like, I could float or something.”
“That’s silly.”
“So’s your face.”
Bret was offended, then, seeing that Jemaine was joking, laughed again. Jemaine liked to hear Bret laugh, it made him feel good and with the alcohol currently circulating through his system, he found he felt exceptionally good right now. Better than he had felt in a long time.
He looked at Bret, who was still all smiles and felt something curling in his chest, a happy warmth and as he looked him over he heard himself speaking before he even thought about it, “Your face is good though.”
Bret looked surprised by this comment and rocked back a bit on his seat, “Oh?”
“Yeah…your face is…it’s…a nice face.”
“That a compliment?”
“I…think so.”
“It’s a good one.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, you’ve gotten really good at that. Compliments, I mean.”
“Oh, yes, well, thank you. I think so as well.”
Bret looked at Jemaine, who had gone from sitting up to lying down on one side, his head propped up. Bret looked over the length of him, figuring he should give Jemaine a compliment about something. He felt his face heat up as he confessed quietly, “You…look nice too. I mean, I…I like your face and…the rest of you.”
“Do you?” Jemaine asked, not quite sure why his voice came out so breathy.
Bret found it hard to speak and merely nodded his head. He noticed his glass was empty and reached for the bottle only to find that Jemaine was reaching at the same time. Their fingers brushed and both looked at the other, eyes locking. Jemaine swallowed visibly, not yet drawing his hand away, as he found himself thinking hard about how his fingers felt against Bret’s.
They had most likely touched this way before but for some reason now the feeling of it was like touching an electrical socket. Jemaine could feel a tremor working up from his fingers to his arm and he was reluctant to pull away. Still, he drew back, voice soft, “Sorry.”
“No, no...it’s…” Bret just trailed off because he couldn’t think of what else to say. His fingers still hummed in the places where they had touched Jemaine’s. Unable to think of what else to say, he took the bottle and filled his glass, then eyed Jemaine’s as he shook the bottle a little, “Almost empty now…should we divide it between our glasses or-”
“We could just…share one glass. Might be…better.”
“Okay,” Bret said and poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. He put the bottle to one side, closer to the basket and other items which had also been moved away. Somehow there seemed to be nothing between Bret and Jemaine now save the wide expanse of blanket beneath them and the glass that Bret now held.
Bret felt like their bodies were far away and too close at the same time and, utterly confused by his thoughts and emotions, found solace in the glass he held. He took a mighty pull of the champagne, almost emptying the glass on his own when Jemaine spoke, voice almost a whisper, “Don’t drink it all…I want some…”
Bret felt the absurd need to groan at the sound of Jemaine’s voice, so husky and deep. And what he had said…Bret had taken the last part terribly out of context. What was wrong with him? Maybe everything was drugged. Oh god, maybe Demetri had planned it that way and really had hoped somehow that Bret would share this basket with him.
But Demetri was on tour, far away, and Bret really didn’t fancy him, not like that. Bret didn’t…well, he didn’t think he fancied anyone but then he held out the glass for Jemaine, and he realized he was trembling a little, “You…should probably sit up. Don’t want to spill it.”
Jemaine rearranged himself awkwardly and was suddenly sitting so close that it took Bret several seconds to realize he had stopped breathing. Jemaine hadn’t taken the glass yet and Bret brought it up slowly between them, and, without thinking, realized he was tipping it towards Jemaine’s mouth.
Jemaine reached out and his fingers interlaced with Bret’s as he eased the glass the rest of the way towards him, his lips parting as he finished off the rest of the drink. Bret’s eyes had been locked with Jemaine’s at first but now focused on his mouth as he finished drinking.
Jemaine let the glass go and Bret drew it away, putting it to one side as he focused on Jemaine’s mouth which was still wet from the champagne. Bret found himself easing forward now, his mouth settling on top of Jemaine’s for an instant, then drawing away. Bret let out a breath, whispering, “I don’t…know why I did that…”
Jemaine didn’t respond with words but instead moved forward himself, kissing Bret again. Bret heard a moan bubbling out of him, his hands reaching out to cup Jemaine’s face to keep him there as their unsure lips moved against one another.
Eventually with a groan, Jemaine’s mouth opened, tongue seeking entrance to Bret’s mouth as a hot spurt of hunger burst through him. Bret responded, allowing the kiss to become deeper, wetter, as they tasted each other, champagne intermingled throughout.
Bret let out a little gasp of pleasure when Jemaine changed the angle of the kiss. It set off aches in him that throbbed like pulse beats. Quiet sounds of need hummed in Bret’s throat and burned in his blood as his hands left Jemaine’s face and went to his body, roaming over it.
It was different than a girl’s body, not as slim or as soft and yet wholly satisfying. Warm and broad and strong and suddenly Bret’s hands became more grasping and greedy as he pushed Jemaine back, positioning the other man beneath him. Jemaine let out a quiet curse as Bret’s body covered his own, as Bret’s hands found his wrists and pinned him down.
He hadn’t expected Bret to be so aggressive but found himself thoroughly aroused by it. Oh god, he was aroused by Bret! But really, with all the unexpected twists and turns the day had taken, should he now be surprised by this one? Instead he chose to embrace it, moaning as Bret grounded his hips down against him.
Bret’s mouth was hot, insistent, as he held Jemaine down firmly, his body working between his friend’s legs as he surged against him, thrusting so that their hardened erections rubbed against one another. Their kiss broke and Jemaine cursed again, “Fuck! Bret…”
“Feels good?” Bret asked smugly and Jemaine groaned as Bret did it again. Apparently, Jemaine had completely underestimated his friend. No wonder bastard girls and bastard boys were after Bret.
“Bret…ohhh….we’re…we’re out in public…”
“Uh huh,” Bret agreed, his hands carding through Jemaine’s hair, his mouth going to Jemaine’s neck and licking there.
“Anyone…ah…anyone can see us…”
“I know,” Bret breathed and suddenly Jemaine realized he had done more than just underestimate his friend. In fact, it appeared as if he really didn’t know much of anything about him. He had always thought Bret was more interested in moving slow. He hardly ever kissed a girl on the first date, much less did…well, exactly what they were doing right now.
He wanted to voice this but instead Bret beat him to it, mouth still feasting on his neck, “Demetri and I don’t have a thing…but apparently you and I do-”
“We do?”
“Hmm, yes, and I find I’m enjoying it. Can’t you feel that I’m enjoying it?” Bret asked and moved his hips again. Jemaine let out a thoroughly indecent sound and realized, with some fear, that if this kept up he was going to come, outside, in public, which was as thrilling as it was terrifying.
“Bret…can’t…not here…”
“Mm, you sure?” Bret asked, his mouth moving to Jemaine’s ear, voice low and dangerous, “I can make you, you know. Here…”
“Bret…”
“In fact, considering how you treated me earlier, you would deserve it…”
Jemaine didn’t know what to do, because if Bret stopped he was going to die and if Bret didn’t stop he was going to die. He didn’t know what he wanted and he wasn’t sure how things had gone from a normal picnic to this. All he knew was that Bret was growing impatient and time was running out. Then Bret sighed, “I think I’ll make up your mind for you.”
Bret’s mouth covered his again and Jemaine’s eyes closed as he let out a pleased whimper. Bret’s mouth was gentler now and Jemaine felt absorbed by the kiss, by Bret on top of him. Bret’s hands strayed from his hair to run along his sides, grasping at his hips before sliding up his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples and Jemaine felt his whole body arching up at the feel of it.
He felt Bret smile against his mouth as he focused his fingers’ attention there while at the same time he thrust hard against him again. Jemaine could see bright lights behind his eyelids and then suddenly, he could feel nothing.
Gasping, he opened his eyes, completely bewildered as he saw Bret kneeling away from him.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I made up your mind for you. I decided to stop.” Bret said, the smile on his face pure evil.
Jemaine sat up slowly and found himself huffing, “Are you kidding me?!”
Bret’s eyes twinkled, “Didn’t think it was appropriate to do in public. ‘Sides, you deserve this more than you deserve-”
“I hate you.”
“Considering your reactions earlier, I highly doubt that.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“Are you trying to offend me?”
“No, but I am thinking very mean thoughts about you right now.”
“Hmm, I guess when we get home I’ll have to do my best to change that.” Bret rose to his feet as he said this, grabbing the basket. He collected all the items lying around and stood above Jemaine, that evil smile still on his face.
Jemaine also rose, collecting up the blanket as he looked darkly at Bret, “We going home, then?”
“Mm, figure we’ll finish our picnic away from prying eyes.”
“Oh we’ll finish it alright.” Jemaine swore and took Bret’s hand firmly, “Let’s run, not walk.”
Bret squeezed his hand, “Pretty good picnic, huh?”
“The best. Less talking, more hurrying home.”
Woof. I've been working 12AM to 10PM shifts the past 2 days. I'm off tomorrow (yea!) but then Monday and Tuesday I'm 10AM to 10PM. Opening a store is tough and tiring!!!
I hope you all enjoy this more fluffy piece, because the next few fics I post in the future are all going to be pretty thought-provoking angst fests, as I did officially get approved for un_love_you.
I am too sleepy to think of anything else to say to you all at the moment other than enjoy this fic!!!
Pairing(s) in the story: Bret/Jemaine, with mentions of Bret/Demetri
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 gladly take donations of Bret/Jemaine!
Rating of story: R
Word Count: 4,443
Warnings: Alcohol, Minor Angst, Public Naughtiness, Aggressive!Bret
Brief summary: Jemaine and Bret go on a picnic.
Notes: Based on a dream ballroombubble had. She said I could write it, so I did. Hopefully it lives up to the dream! Also, I apparently have a fetish for Aggressive!Bret.
To say the sun was sparkling in the sky above New York was an understatement. The clear autumn day was so picturesque, it was hard to fathom that it even existed. How was it possible that a day could be so glorious?
Jemaine quietly questioned the validity of such a perfect day as he walked into the park, a blanket rolled and tucked beneath his arm. Bret walked to one side of him, a large brown wicker basket held firmly in both hands. Bret wouldn’t tell Jemaine what was inside, but apparently it held quite a load, as now and then Bret grunted and shifted his hold on the handle.
Jemaine kept eyeing the basket suspiciously, because last he checked Bret hadn’t owned a basket like that, and he was very curious as to where it had come from. There were several people in the park today, but some how they managed to carve out their own, private space.
Bret was very leery of the location at first, scrutinizing every bit of it for used condoms or other unpleasantries. Once satisfied, he gave a nod and Jemaine spread the blanket out and found a comfortable seat on the ground, his back against the closest tree.
Bret set down the basket and sat down as well, legs crossed Indian-style. Jemaine squinted as he looked around the spot they’d chosen, breathing in deeply, “This is nice. Good shade, breeze…can’t see any girls though.”
“Yeah, but remember what Dave said. Can’t be too obvious when it comes to girls. Have to look lonely. Girls like it better if you look lonely. More likely to come over and talk to us then.”
“How can I look lonely if you’re here?”
Bret frowned, “You want I should leave then?”
“No. Don’t be ridiculous, Bret. If you leave, I’ll be by myself with the blanket and the basket…it’ll look weird. Who has a picnic by themselves?”
“Murray?”
“Oh. Yes. Still…doesn’t seem right...”
“But…you just said…if you’re not by yourself you can’t look lonely-”
Jemaine let out a hiss, “Hmm, yes, but, no, I think…in this particular instance it looks better with you here. Maybe not lonely but, you know, maybe some girls will come by, see us with the picnic and want to join in for…you know, the sake of it.”
“No one can resist a picnic?”
“Yes.” Jemaine dragged out this word, not sure if his logic was correct but sticking to it regardless. Bret didn’t really question it any further, as he was eager to dig into the basket and enjoy the day.
Frankly, Bret didn’t really care if girls came by or not, as he was actually more interested in spending time with Jemaine than anything else. It was nice to be outdoors on a day like this, hanging with his best mate, not worrying about band practice or when their next gig would be or when Eugene would fix the toilet in their apartment so it didn’t make that scary noise when you flushed it.
He took in his own deep breath and smiling, opened the basket and started taking items out, “Okay, let’s see what we have here…”
Jemaine watched eagerly as Bret dug into the mystery basket, as now he would finally get some answers as to what lay inside. Bret removed each item one at a time, announcing them aloud as if they were guests arriving at a party, “We’ve got champagne here. Wine Glasses, Caviar…crackers, as well. Oh look, Jemaine, mixed nuts! I know you like those…chocolates…different flavors even…this one says it’s amaretto and this other one says it’s double chocolate…white russian? This chocolate has a nationality?” Bret shrugged, “Hmm, oh well…and then there’s…oh, that’s not food so-”
Bret snapped the basket shut and looked at everything laid out before them, “Well! Which one do you want to try first?”
Jemaine held the champagne bottle and looked at Bret with one raised eyebrow, “This is Dom Perignon.”
“I thought it was champagne.”
“No, it is champagne, Bret.”
Bret looked confused so Jemaine turned the bottle allowing Bret to see the name printed on the label, “So…the champagne has a name?”
“This champagne is very expensive. Actually…I think a lot of this stuff is. Where did you get it?”
Bret’s attempt to look innocent bordered on comical. “Nowhere.”
Jemaine’s eyes narrowed and he pointed at the basket, “What else is in there?”
“Nothing.”
“Bret, you have a terrible poker face.”
Bret looked confused again, “We’re not playing poker.”
“It’s an expression-look, Bret-there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“No there’s not!” Bret said it so emphatically that it merely drove the point home, making Jemaine nothing if not more suspicious.
“There is. Come on, out with it, then. Where did you get the basket and what else is in there.”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
“But it is.”
“It’s none of your business, actually.”
“Give me that,” Jemaine snatched up the basket quickly. Bret attempted to lunge after it but missed as Jemaine quickly rose to his feet and edged the basket open. He reached inside and pulled out a CD. He looked it over, “Is this it? Bret…’s just a CD.”
“Yeah, exactly, see? Nothing, but, you know - you should just give that to me,” Bret said as he rose to his knees and tried to steal it back. Jemaine easily side stepped him, “Hang on…it’s a mixed CD. Some Pearl Jam, Bee Gees, Bowie…some…is this…jazz?”
Bret rolled his head about his shoulders, not answering as he tried again, unsuccessfully, to get the CD away from Jemaine, who was now popping the case open, “Bret…there’s a note in here.”
“Oh? Is there?”
“’S got your name on it.”
“Then it’s for me, isn’t it, so you should give it back-”
Jemaine ignored him and opened the note, his eyes scanning over it even as Bret spoke up, “Oh! Hey! That’s rude! That’s mine-”
“’Hey man, how’s it going,’” Jemaine read aloud, voice a little hushed, “’not much here. Tour’s good, hope things are well, miss playing with you, miss looking at you when I turn my head to the left on stage, miss…you…hmm hmm…Bret…this is from…Demetri?!”
Bret licked his lips, looking anxious, “It’s…nothing.”
Jemaine was clutching the note rather more firmly than necessary as he continued reading, eyes wider than usual, “He fancies you?”
“No, no. He’s never…it’s not like that.”
Jemaine turned the note out to face Bret and jabbed at one section, “What about this part right here where it says he fancies you?”
Bret peered up at the note, squinting as he tried to read it from his position, “I’m sure it…doesn’t say that.”
Jemaine cleared his throat and read from the note again, “’Made this CD for you, listen to it and let me know what you think. Maybe you’ll hear it and think of me, I think of you-‘”
“Oh, well, see, right there, that doesn’t mean he fancies me. Doesn’t say anything like that. Not that I’ve had a chance to read it properly since you’ve taken it from me-”
“Bret,” Jemaine looked a bit stunned, “How long has this been going on?”
“How long has what been going on?” Bret asked, his tone full of despair.
Jemaine waved his arms exaggeratedly, indicated the note and the basket, “This! You and Demetri!”
“Not…not long. It’s nothing. Really.”
“Are you…I mean, he’s…gay, I guess…are-are you…are you,” Jemaine seemed to be struggling with all these revelations, walking in tiny little paces back and forth, “You two are…dating?”
“No!” Bret said firmly, “No, no we are definitely not dating!”
“Then what-”
“He just,” Bret shrugged, “He just…started sending me letters one day. Eugene gave me the first one, actually, when he came to fix our air.”
“Fix our…Bret that was almost six months ago.”
“Yeah,” Bret ducked his head, looking guilty.
“This has been going on for six months?!”
“Just…we’re kind of like…pen pals. He’s lonely is all. Out on tour…he doesn’t really have anyone else to talk to. We’ve just been writing back and forth. Some times…I mean, occasionally he sends…gifts.”
“I can see that!” Jemaine said, the volume of his voice escalating uncomfortably.
“You’re…angry?”
“No!” Jemaine said this rather more adamantly than needed and took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “No…no…no, no, no. I’m…not angry. I’m not. I just…I wasn’t aware…you and Demetri…had a thing…”
“We don’t have a thing! There is no me and Demetri or Demetri and I or I mean, there is no…us. We’re just friends, Jemaine. That’s all. Don’t see where it’s any of your business anyhow. I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“Oh. Yes. Right. Well. Fine then.” Jemaine snapped and sat back down, arms crossed, looking terribly put out.
Bret sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Come on, Jemaine…don’t ruin this…it’s a nice day. We’ve got the champagne-”
“You drink it. I don’t want anything from your love basket.”
“It’s not-”
“Or maybe I should say Demetri’s love basket. To you. Since you two are-”
“We’re not!” Bret said hotly, “I don’t know why you…maybe I should just go.”
Bret got to his feet and brushed himself off, jamming his hands forcefully into his jeans’ pockets, Jemaine scowled, “That’s right, you just go off then. Go write Demetri a letter, why don’t you?”
“Maybe I will.” Bret said briskly and started to walk away.
Jemaine took in a deep breath and realized his chest felt tight, his vision growing blurry. Oh no. He took in a few quick breaths and got to his feet. He watched Bret walking away and felt himself propelled forward, “Bret! Bret, wait!”
Bret kept walking, determinedly ignoring him, but Jemaine kept calling, his voice so pathetic that Bret couldn’t help but stop. He didn’t turn around though, instead waiting for Jemaine to catch up to him. Jemaine walked in front of him, looking terribly chagrined, “Bret…I’m…you know, sorry...I guess. I don’t know…why I was-”
Jemaine seemed at a loss as to what to say and Bret just shook his head, “It’s ok, man.”
“Really?”
Bret cracked a bit of a grin, “Yeah. It’s all right…I know how you can be.”
Jemaine raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”
“You’re the jealous type.”
“Aw! No, I’m not!”
“You are though,” Bret offered, growing considerably more cheery as he teased his friend, “Back in Uni, you got all livid about me talking to Weston Miller during that play-”
“Well, you were ignoring me-”
“You weren’t even there! You went on a date with Claire Fitzpatrick and then afterwards I told you I went out with Weston.”
“Yes, well, Weston was a questionable character, I just didn’t want him to take advantage of you, so, you know, that’s not jealousy, that’s just me looking out for you. Having your best interests at heart, that’s more a positive than a negative.”
Bret shook his head, “Whatever. You still want to have our picnic then?”
Jemaine shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, “Nnn…yeah. Yeah. Yes, bit hungry.”
“You change your mind on taking things from the ‘love basket’?”
“No reason to let it go to waste,” Jemaine said gruffly, “’Sides, not like he can eat it with you.”
They both walked back to the basket and blanket, resuming their positions on the ground. Jemaine took the tin of mixed nuts and cracked it open, picking out the cashews. Bret ate a few of the chocolates and smiled, “This stuff is pretty good.”
Jemaine made a non-committal sound in his throat as he ate, his gaze flickering to the CD and note now and then. He couldn’t help himself, “So…you sure you don’t…fancy him?”
“Who?”
“Demetri.”
Bret shook his head, “No. I mean…I don’t even think he…feels that way about me.”
“Bret, he sent you an expensive basket of champagne and chocolates…he made you a mixed CD.”
“Yeah, but, his letters, I mean…there was nothing in them that indicated he-”
“He says he misses you. A lot. He wrote that he thinks about you all the time.”
“I think about you all the time. That doesn’t mean-” Bret flushed and stopped talking, as he suddenly wondered if maybe thinking about Jemaine all the time meant more than he thought it did.
Jemaine, however, didn’t notice as he was more caught on how Bret really did seem completely oblivious to how Demetri clearly felt about him. What was it with Bret? First bastard girls and now…bastard boys? It was too much. Jemaine felt the need for constant vigilance in regards to his naïve friend.
He opened the jar of caviar and dipped a cracker in. He had no idea what caviar was, so he looked at it a bit skeptically, “I wonder if Demetri would be mad that you’re sharing this with me.”
“Doubt it. It’s my present. I can do whatever I want with it.”
“Thanks then. To you or to Demetri or…whoever.”
Bret picked up the champagne and unraveled the foil until the cork was exposed and looked at it hesitantly, “Um, I know the cork pops out all crazy when you open one of these…you-you want to…pop it?”
“You scared, Bret?”
“A little.”
Jemaine tossed the cracker into his mouth and started chewing it, making a bit of a face as he tasted caviar for the first time, “Hand it over. I’ll open it.”
Bret gave him the bottle and Jemaine pointed the cork away from both of them. Honestly, he was a little nervous as well, not sure how much the cork would fly from the bottle. Would it be like a mini explosion? Still, the taste of the caviar distracted him enough to make him not think about it too deeply as he worked the cork free.
The cork flew out with a satisfyingly loud ‘pop’ and the champagne surged forward, foaming over. Jemaine cried out as the cold liquid bubbled on to him. Bret laughed and quickly grabbed the glasses, trying to capture some of it as the rest splashed over on to him as well.
They both ended up a little soaked, but otherwise no worse for wear as they took their separate glasses. Jemaine’s nose scrunched up as he tried to wipe himself off on the blanket, “Champagne got all over me…”
“Me too, didn’t know this drink was so entertaining.”
“Mm, should we do a toast?”
“What for?”
“Well, I mean, I think it’s just…sort of done…in these situations.”
“Like, a tradition?”
Jemaine shrugged and Bret smiled, nodding, “Okay, yeah, toast.”
There was a silence and Bret cleared his throat, “Um…you have one?”
“No, you?”
“Nope.”
“Huh,” Jemaine tapped his glasses lightly against Bret, “Cheers, then.”
They both sipped at the champagne and Bret licked his lips, grinning. “Oh wow! This is good! Much better than beer.”
“You need the toilet?”
“No…actually…think I can drink some more.” Bret took another drink, this one bigger and longer. He let out a refreshed sigh, “Oh, yes. Like this. I’ve had champagne before but this…’s really good.”
“Guess you only like the finest.”
“Is this the finest?”
“It’s expensive so…yes?”
“Oh. Then I guess so.”
They both sat in a happy silence, quietly drinking until they had empty glasses, only to refill them and drink some more. Considering neither of them drank often, and the fact that they didn’t have much on their stomachs, they both felt tipsy rather quickly.
Bret found himself giggling, “How you feelin’, Jemaine?”
“Good,” Jemaine said with any easy smile, “You?”
“Feel a bit…light.”
“You’re not getting drunk over there, are you? We’ve barely had anything.”
“Not drunk…just…less than sober.”
“Mmm, me too, I think. I also feel…light. Like, I could float or something.”
“That’s silly.”
“So’s your face.”
Bret was offended, then, seeing that Jemaine was joking, laughed again. Jemaine liked to hear Bret laugh, it made him feel good and with the alcohol currently circulating through his system, he found he felt exceptionally good right now. Better than he had felt in a long time.
He looked at Bret, who was still all smiles and felt something curling in his chest, a happy warmth and as he looked him over he heard himself speaking before he even thought about it, “Your face is good though.”
Bret looked surprised by this comment and rocked back a bit on his seat, “Oh?”
“Yeah…your face is…it’s…a nice face.”
“That a compliment?”
“I…think so.”
“It’s a good one.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, you’ve gotten really good at that. Compliments, I mean.”
“Oh, yes, well, thank you. I think so as well.”
Bret looked at Jemaine, who had gone from sitting up to lying down on one side, his head propped up. Bret looked over the length of him, figuring he should give Jemaine a compliment about something. He felt his face heat up as he confessed quietly, “You…look nice too. I mean, I…I like your face and…the rest of you.”
“Do you?” Jemaine asked, not quite sure why his voice came out so breathy.
Bret found it hard to speak and merely nodded his head. He noticed his glass was empty and reached for the bottle only to find that Jemaine was reaching at the same time. Their fingers brushed and both looked at the other, eyes locking. Jemaine swallowed visibly, not yet drawing his hand away, as he found himself thinking hard about how his fingers felt against Bret’s.
They had most likely touched this way before but for some reason now the feeling of it was like touching an electrical socket. Jemaine could feel a tremor working up from his fingers to his arm and he was reluctant to pull away. Still, he drew back, voice soft, “Sorry.”
“No, no...it’s…” Bret just trailed off because he couldn’t think of what else to say. His fingers still hummed in the places where they had touched Jemaine’s. Unable to think of what else to say, he took the bottle and filled his glass, then eyed Jemaine’s as he shook the bottle a little, “Almost empty now…should we divide it between our glasses or-”
“We could just…share one glass. Might be…better.”
“Okay,” Bret said and poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. He put the bottle to one side, closer to the basket and other items which had also been moved away. Somehow there seemed to be nothing between Bret and Jemaine now save the wide expanse of blanket beneath them and the glass that Bret now held.
Bret felt like their bodies were far away and too close at the same time and, utterly confused by his thoughts and emotions, found solace in the glass he held. He took a mighty pull of the champagne, almost emptying the glass on his own when Jemaine spoke, voice almost a whisper, “Don’t drink it all…I want some…”
Bret felt the absurd need to groan at the sound of Jemaine’s voice, so husky and deep. And what he had said…Bret had taken the last part terribly out of context. What was wrong with him? Maybe everything was drugged. Oh god, maybe Demetri had planned it that way and really had hoped somehow that Bret would share this basket with him.
But Demetri was on tour, far away, and Bret really didn’t fancy him, not like that. Bret didn’t…well, he didn’t think he fancied anyone but then he held out the glass for Jemaine, and he realized he was trembling a little, “You…should probably sit up. Don’t want to spill it.”
Jemaine rearranged himself awkwardly and was suddenly sitting so close that it took Bret several seconds to realize he had stopped breathing. Jemaine hadn’t taken the glass yet and Bret brought it up slowly between them, and, without thinking, realized he was tipping it towards Jemaine’s mouth.
Jemaine reached out and his fingers interlaced with Bret’s as he eased the glass the rest of the way towards him, his lips parting as he finished off the rest of the drink. Bret’s eyes had been locked with Jemaine’s at first but now focused on his mouth as he finished drinking.
Jemaine let the glass go and Bret drew it away, putting it to one side as he focused on Jemaine’s mouth which was still wet from the champagne. Bret found himself easing forward now, his mouth settling on top of Jemaine’s for an instant, then drawing away. Bret let out a breath, whispering, “I don’t…know why I did that…”
Jemaine didn’t respond with words but instead moved forward himself, kissing Bret again. Bret heard a moan bubbling out of him, his hands reaching out to cup Jemaine’s face to keep him there as their unsure lips moved against one another.
Eventually with a groan, Jemaine’s mouth opened, tongue seeking entrance to Bret’s mouth as a hot spurt of hunger burst through him. Bret responded, allowing the kiss to become deeper, wetter, as they tasted each other, champagne intermingled throughout.
Bret let out a little gasp of pleasure when Jemaine changed the angle of the kiss. It set off aches in him that throbbed like pulse beats. Quiet sounds of need hummed in Bret’s throat and burned in his blood as his hands left Jemaine’s face and went to his body, roaming over it.
It was different than a girl’s body, not as slim or as soft and yet wholly satisfying. Warm and broad and strong and suddenly Bret’s hands became more grasping and greedy as he pushed Jemaine back, positioning the other man beneath him. Jemaine let out a quiet curse as Bret’s body covered his own, as Bret’s hands found his wrists and pinned him down.
He hadn’t expected Bret to be so aggressive but found himself thoroughly aroused by it. Oh god, he was aroused by Bret! But really, with all the unexpected twists and turns the day had taken, should he now be surprised by this one? Instead he chose to embrace it, moaning as Bret grounded his hips down against him.
Bret’s mouth was hot, insistent, as he held Jemaine down firmly, his body working between his friend’s legs as he surged against him, thrusting so that their hardened erections rubbed against one another. Their kiss broke and Jemaine cursed again, “Fuck! Bret…”
“Feels good?” Bret asked smugly and Jemaine groaned as Bret did it again. Apparently, Jemaine had completely underestimated his friend. No wonder bastard girls and bastard boys were after Bret.
“Bret…ohhh….we’re…we’re out in public…”
“Uh huh,” Bret agreed, his hands carding through Jemaine’s hair, his mouth going to Jemaine’s neck and licking there.
“Anyone…ah…anyone can see us…”
“I know,” Bret breathed and suddenly Jemaine realized he had done more than just underestimate his friend. In fact, it appeared as if he really didn’t know much of anything about him. He had always thought Bret was more interested in moving slow. He hardly ever kissed a girl on the first date, much less did…well, exactly what they were doing right now.
He wanted to voice this but instead Bret beat him to it, mouth still feasting on his neck, “Demetri and I don’t have a thing…but apparently you and I do-”
“We do?”
“Hmm, yes, and I find I’m enjoying it. Can’t you feel that I’m enjoying it?” Bret asked and moved his hips again. Jemaine let out a thoroughly indecent sound and realized, with some fear, that if this kept up he was going to come, outside, in public, which was as thrilling as it was terrifying.
“Bret…can’t…not here…”
“Mm, you sure?” Bret asked, his mouth moving to Jemaine’s ear, voice low and dangerous, “I can make you, you know. Here…”
“Bret…”
“In fact, considering how you treated me earlier, you would deserve it…”
Jemaine didn’t know what to do, because if Bret stopped he was going to die and if Bret didn’t stop he was going to die. He didn’t know what he wanted and he wasn’t sure how things had gone from a normal picnic to this. All he knew was that Bret was growing impatient and time was running out. Then Bret sighed, “I think I’ll make up your mind for you.”
Bret’s mouth covered his again and Jemaine’s eyes closed as he let out a pleased whimper. Bret’s mouth was gentler now and Jemaine felt absorbed by the kiss, by Bret on top of him. Bret’s hands strayed from his hair to run along his sides, grasping at his hips before sliding up his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples and Jemaine felt his whole body arching up at the feel of it.
He felt Bret smile against his mouth as he focused his fingers’ attention there while at the same time he thrust hard against him again. Jemaine could see bright lights behind his eyelids and then suddenly, he could feel nothing.
Gasping, he opened his eyes, completely bewildered as he saw Bret kneeling away from him.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I made up your mind for you. I decided to stop.” Bret said, the smile on his face pure evil.
Jemaine sat up slowly and found himself huffing, “Are you kidding me?!”
Bret’s eyes twinkled, “Didn’t think it was appropriate to do in public. ‘Sides, you deserve this more than you deserve-”
“I hate you.”
“Considering your reactions earlier, I highly doubt that.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“Are you trying to offend me?”
“No, but I am thinking very mean thoughts about you right now.”
“Hmm, I guess when we get home I’ll have to do my best to change that.” Bret rose to his feet as he said this, grabbing the basket. He collected all the items lying around and stood above Jemaine, that evil smile still on his face.
Jemaine also rose, collecting up the blanket as he looked darkly at Bret, “We going home, then?”
“Mm, figure we’ll finish our picnic away from prying eyes.”
“Oh we’ll finish it alright.” Jemaine swore and took Bret’s hand firmly, “Let’s run, not walk.”
Bret squeezed his hand, “Pretty good picnic, huh?”
“The best. Less talking, more hurrying home.”
Woof. I've been working 12AM to 10PM shifts the past 2 days. I'm off tomorrow (yea!) but then Monday and Tuesday I'm 10AM to 10PM. Opening a store is tough and tiring!!!
I hope you all enjoy this more fluffy piece, because the next few fics I post in the future are all going to be pretty thought-provoking angst fests, as I did officially get approved for un_love_you.
I am too sleepy to think of anything else to say to you all at the moment other than enjoy this fic!!!