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freakykatTitle: Drink You In [1/2]
Author: Kat/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
freakykat
Pairing/Characters: Van/Jake
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3165
Spoilers/Warnings: Not real? Little bit of angst.
Summary: He kinda always wanted to look at Jake.
Disclaimer: I don't know either Jake or Van. This is entirely from my crazy RPS-ing mind. Not real. NOT. No offense meant so if this ain't your thing, don't read, please. Also, I make no money from this. Thanks.
Author's Notes: Written forbluejeanbaby01. She happened to mention the words Jake and Van and coffee in one breath. And then that happened. ::points at story:: Also for Van/Jake fanfic 100 prompt 039. Taste. Big thanks to jyl22075 for the beta! Also to Mayah and Moey for the encouragement. ♥
Drink You In
June 2007
Van groaned and threw his script to the floor, letting his head fall back against the couch. It might have been old and ratty but it had the perfect curve for his head. It was what he loved about it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He was exhausted.
All the filming in Branson, not to mention all the regular filming on top of all the auditioning his agent had been setting up and he was ready to take some vacation. Except now Luke and Noah’s story was starting to get somewhere. He smiled when he thought of the upcoming scenes with Jake. He couldn’t wait to see where they went with it.
“What’s with the grin, Hansis?”
Think of the devil.
He didn’t open his eyes, just threw one hand over them and shrugged, “What? Can’t a man be content?”
“Ha. You look more like the cat that swallowed the canary then content.”
Van moved his hand, squinting up at the tall shadow over him. “Wouldn’t the cat look content if he swallowed the canary?”
“No. He’d look satisfied.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“It is not.”
Van opened his eyes, grinning up at Jake, and shook his head. “Dude, you’re the writer, you should know the meaning of words. Look it up. Content so totally means satisfied.”
Jake raised an eyebrow at him, giving him that slow smile and Van looked away, ignoring that jelly feeling in his legs and the fact that he was having difficulty breathing.
He so did not think about the fact that it happened a lot.
“And here I was thinking about you.”
Van’s head turned so fast his neck creaked and he met Jake’s eyes. “What?”
Jake blinked at him, eyebrows scrunched a little and he brought his hand up to where Van could see. He was holding a Starbucks coffee cup. “I figured you could use it.”
“Oh,” Van sighed, relieved, and grabbed the cup, his fingers touching Jake’s before pulling back with the drink in hand. “Thanks, man.” Jake plopped down next to him and Van smiled over at his co-star, his new friend and took a sip of his coffee. “How do you always know what I need?”
Jake shrugged, “I’m awesome that way.”
Van laughed, bumping his shoulder into Jake’s. “I’ll remember that next time I need a fix of something.”
Jake grinned at him, blue eyes shining with delight, “Anytime, Van.” Jake always looked at him that way.
Van didn’t think about what it meant.
“So, you ready to tell me how you feel?”
Van stopped mid-drink to stare at Jake. “Um…”
Jake pointed to the script. “The scenes for today? You know Luke confesses his attraction to Noah.”
“Noah is completely in denial.”
Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Poor bastard has no idea what he’s missing, huh?” He winked at Van and plopped down on the couch. “Did you want to run lines?”
Van swallowed the deep, rich, flavored coffee and did not watch Jake take a sip of his. He did not watch the way his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He did not watch the way his eyes fluttered shut (he had really fucking pretty eyes) when he swallowed.
And he certainly didn’t think about what Jake’s mouth would taste like.
Nope. Not at all.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
November 2007
"See you tonight, Van."
"Later, Petey."
He bundled his scarf around his neck, glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. He was going to be late for taping. Letting out a deep sigh, Van glanced longingly at the Subway across the street, before heading in the direction of the train station. Costume fittings were curses of the worst kind. He hated them infinitely more each time but he couldn’t complain too horribly. He loved working on something funny and outrageous.
He snorted at the thought. It wasn’t like working on a soap was based in any kind of reality.
His phone vibrated against his leg and he reached into his pocket, slowing his steps to grasp it. With it firmly in hand, he jogged down the stairs, heading toward the train. He slid his metro card through the turnstile, flipping his phone open, grinning at the message.
Dude. You got twenty minutes. Make a break for it!
He pressed the buttons in response, scrunching his nose as the stale underground air blew into his face. The incoming train screeched to a stop, and he climbed into the cab, taking a seat before pressing send.
on the train, man. b there in no time.
Seconds later, there was another beep and he rolled his eyes.
You haven’t made it here, yet. Don’t count your chickens or whatever.
Van snorted, shaking his head.
don’t try to get out of this, silbermann. you owe me.
He glanced at his reflection in the glass of the window. He was grinning like an idiot. The beep came again and he glanced down.
They are taking me in. Noah in a scene without Luke. Hell is freezing over.
Van laughed out loud as he typed: look out the window. flying pigs, i bet. and don’t try to distract me. i expect you to pay up.
The answer was immediate: Don’t get your short shorts in a bunch. It’s covered.
Van narrowed his eyes, sighing as he shook his head. He was never going to live those damn shorts down. The train pulled up to his stop and he rushed off. He had five minutes before he was due in makeup. Running across the street, he flew through the studio entrance, waving at Ron as he did. He bumped into Austin, apologized for almost knocking him over, and made it right on time.
“There he is!” Chris greeted him with a smile and patted her chair. “On the dot.”
“I am a consummate professional who is always on time.”
She laughed out loud. “Jake said you’d say that.”
Van grinned and plopped down in the chair, taking a deep breath and listening to Chris chatter away….
*
Chris shook him awake half an hour later. “You can sleep through anything, doll face.”
It was totally a talent of his.
He thanked her and headed to his room. He had about twenty minutes before he was due on set. His stomach growled as he reached his dressing room. He contemplated getting something from the vending machines. He stepped into his room and froze in place.
There on the table were two bags from Subway and an iced coffee. Van blinked at the sight for a full minute before he noticed the note lying next to the bags and picked it up.
I figured you deserved this either way. Chow down and then come rescue me, please! - J.
Van smiled wide, reading the note a few times before placing it into his drawer and digging into the bag. He’d need the nourishment, for sure.
Saving Jake was serious business.
April 2008
The world was tipping over and he wanted to go with it.
Maybe Marnie was right. Those last few shots with Billy might have been a mistake.
Van tilted his head back, feeling solid muscle and warmth behind him. There were several goodbyes yelled at him as he wobbled through the door and he waved back at them, grinning. Jake’s hand on his waist steadied him as he walked. Deep voice in his ear assuring someone he would make sure to take care of him.
Him? What him was Jake supposed to take care of?
He stumbled on a step, hands fumbling into Jake’s shirt and he leaned in, head rolling on Jake’s shoulder, taking a deep breath, filling his senses with the smell of cologne and sweat and Jake.
“Whoa. Gimme your hand.”
He snuck in a little deeper, closing his eyes and pretending for just one second…
“Van. Give me your hand, please.” Jake’s voice sounded strained even to Van’s alcohol numbed hearing.
He grabbed Jake’s hand, fingers finding their places together and let Jake take the lead.
There was some yelling and then he was being hauled gently into a cab. His head fell onto Jake’s shoulder automatically and he sighed, letting his mind zone out. When he came to, he was being pushed through his door.
“Hey, this is my apartment.” He gave Jake a grin, holding onto his arm as he guided him to the bedroom.
Jake chuckled and Van realized - through his own muddled brain - that Jake wasn’t nearly as sober as he pretended to be.
“You’re a dork.”
“Yes! But I have rights!” Van raised his arms over his head in a victory sign and collapsed into giggles on his bed. His arms stretched out over his head and he wiggled his fingers, brushing them against his sheets. It was like his fingers had extra feeling in them, like he could sense more through his fingertips. Like a superhero or something. That totally felt really weird but awesome at the same time
He leaned his head up a little when Jake started to laugh. “Did I say that out loud?”
Jake nodded his head, taking off his jacket, and dropping to kneel next to Van. “Yes. Yes, you did.” He reached for Van’s shoes, untying the laces and pulling them off, socks and all. Van bit back a sound when Jake’s hands brushed over his ankle.
“Um…Jake?”
“Hmm?” He pulled off the second shoe, same expert brush of hands until he was holding Van’s naked feet in his hand.
Jake had Van’s naked feet in his hands.
Jake. Hands. Naked feet.
Van swallowed loudly and Jake glanced up then, one eyebrow raised in question, reaching for Van and pulling him until he sat up. Jake pushed at the jacket Van was wearing.
Van watched him. Watched his face scrunch in concentration as he pulled Van’s arms out of the sleeves. Watched as he folded it and put it on floor next to him. Watched as he pulled at Van’s knees.
Then blue fixed on him and Van held a breath, head leaning in closer. “Jake.” He could smell him now. He thought he heard Jake’s breath hitch just a bit before he responded.
“Van.”
It almost sounded like his voice trembled just a little at the end. Jake’s eyes looked different now, darker, wider and Van bit back a wobbly smile. “You know you have really fucking pretty eyes.” One hand reached up to brush dark hair away from Jake’s forehead, letting more light hit them. “I remember them first.” His tongue was numb so his words sounded wrong even to his ears but whatever he had said couldn’t have been so bad since Jake’s face flushed pink.
Warm hands gripped his shoulders and Jake’s eyes were gone, hidden behind closed lids, but now his head had closed the distance, leaning against Van’s. “I’m drunk, man. But not drunk enough that I won’t remember this. So, if you don’t…” Eyes opened to look directly into Van’s. He was going to go cross-eyed but he wanted to look at Jake.
He kinda always wanted to look at Jake.
He loved to look at Jake.
He loved Jake.
His stomach rolled suddenly and he pushed at Jake, ignoring his worried questions, running into the bathroom, head into his toilet and he threw up…
*
When Van tried to open his eyes the first time it was like someone hitting him repeatedly on the head with a hammer. Made of angry metal and stuff. He groaned into his pillow, coughing and cringing at what that did to the inside of his brain. What was left of it anyway. Moving slowly, he managed to turn his head enough and squinted at the clock. It was after noon already. He counted the days and sighed in relief when he stopped on Sunday.
Good. He could die in peace.
He tried the open his eyes trick again and this time it wasn’t nearly as painful. Just torture now not death. His vision blurred without his glasses (and because of the great amount of liquor swimming behind his eyes) but he noticed a glass shaped something with what looked like clear liquid and two smaller pill shaped things on his night stand.
God bless the aspirin/water-leaving-elf that had put it there for him.
Pulling up, he waited until the room stopped spinning and slowly drank down the pills and water. His stomach protested for a few seconds but settled after it realized nothing was being forced into it. He closed his eyes, leaning back with the plan to stay in bed and die quietly when a noise from the living room reverberated in his head.
“Ugh.”
Someone was in his apartment.
That sobered him up faster then anything else could. Van stared at his slightly closed bedroom door, straining to remember the night before.
Nuke-a-palooza. He knew that much.
Lots of drinks. He was sure of that.
Something with jell-o shots and a contest with Billy. (Who in there right mind competed against Billy?)
And then the rest was blank.
He would hurt himself if he tried to remember so he pushed up, feet landed on the cold floor and he moved like he was a hundred years old.
Had he picked someone up on the way home?
He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten to his apartment.
Reaching the bathroom, he splashed cold water in his face, yawning and then making a face when the odor inside his mouth reached his nose. Jesus. Something had fucking died in there. With a lot of effort, he brushed his teeth, holding his head so it wouldn’t shake too much. When he was sure his killer breath had been taken care of, he shuffled out of his room and into the hall.
He froze at the entrance to his kitchen, eyes landing on a muscled back standing at his stove.
Jake.
Flashes of the night came back to him and Van squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away the panicky feeling, and opening them again to focus of Jake.
“Hey.”
Jake jumped a foot, spun around like he was on fire, and Van would have laughed at the nauseous look that came over his face if all the movement hadn’t caused his own stomach to roll some.
“Holy shit! Van, you scared me.” His hand reached up to touch his forehead, digging fingers into the temple and massaging. Van could sympathize. He smiled at Jake, walking gingerly into the kitchen, his voice soft when he said, “You’re here.”
“You’re up.” Jake stepped back to let Van have access to his fridge. “I didn’t think you’d actually make it out of bed today.”
Van reached inside for the orange juice, stopping when Jake’s hand covered his arm, ignoring what it did to his already tormented stomach, and he turned questioning eyes up at his friend. “I just want some -”
Jake smiled softly, then nodded toward the counter where there was a cup of coffee, bottle of water, two pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice sitting on a silver serving tray.
Van blinked at it then glanced back up at Jake. He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was “I have a serving tray?”
Jake snorted, shuffling Van closer, the front of his jean-clad thighs pressed against the back of Van’s exposed legs. Van concentrated on breathing, taking the juice Jake handed him. “I figured you’d be worse for wear after last night.”
Van nodded, then stopped when sharp pain echoed in his head. “Oh, yeah.” He sipped at the juice, the acid churning his stomach before the coolness soothed it. “What happened?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jake freeze and he looked over, his brow scrunching down. “What?” The silence made his stomach drop and he closed his eyes, breathing out a quiet, “Did I say something…”
He had a tendency of doing that. Making stupid jokes. Confessing thoughts or feelings. It had gotten him trouble on more then one occasion. He wasn’t sure what he could have said but…
“Was I rude? An asshole? Cause I can be when I’m like that. Did I…I’m sorry if I…”
Jake gripped Van’s shoulder, shaking him just once, the juice in the glass swooshing around but not spilling. “Van, chill. Relax. It’s fine.”
Van turned wide eyes up to his best friend, breathing out, asking, “So I didn’t say or, you know, do something to -”, he waved his hand to indicate Jake.
Jake reached up to brush his hair back, setting loose everything inside Van, and he was silent for several beats. Then, he shook his head, looking away.
“Nothing I can remember.”
Van sighed, swallowing a large gulp of juice before turning a dimmed grin at Jake. “Thank god. I hate when you’re so drunk that you say all these things you don’t even mean, you know?”
“Yeah. That sucks.”
If he hadn’t been watching him, Van would have missed the look that passed over Jake’s face. He wasn’t sure how to describe it -- Pain? Sadness? “Hey, thank you, man.” Van placed his glass on the counter, gripping Jake’s arms, pulling him into a hug. He rested his head in the crook of Jake’s neck, taking a deep breath of Jake in. His skin was warm and familiar and everywhere. “You’re a good friend, Jake.”
Jake’s hand tightened around Van’s waist for one long moment and then he pushed gently, making sure Van was steady before letting go completely. “I should probably go home.”
He pointed to the tray. “There’s a couple of more aspirins on there if you need them. Try not to do anything that gives us a repeat performance of last night.”
Van blinked.
“You kind of threw up, um, pretty much all over.“
Van dropped his head and groaned. “Oh, man. Sorry.“
“It’s okay. I managed to get you in bed and undressed without getting any on me so that was a plus.“ Jake bit his lip and Van’s eyes settled there before looking up at him. There was something awkward in the air now, something that had never been there before and after a few silent seconds more, Jake waved a hand at his bare chest, smiling that crooked one that Van liked best. “I should get my shirt.”
Van nodded, eyes flicking away from the expanse of skin to the tray, and when he looked back up, Jake was gone. He let out the breath he was holding and glanced in the direction of his room, listening to Jake’s noises.
There was something he was forgetting.
Something nagging at him in the back of his mind. Something he was supposed to say. Wanted to say.
Van reached for the coffee, trying to remember, to think of whatever it was he was missing.
It was important.
That much he knew.
Part Two
Author: Kat/
freakykatPairing/Characters: Van/Jake
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3165
Spoilers/Warnings: Not real? Little bit of angst.
Summary: He kinda always wanted to look at Jake.
Disclaimer: I don't know either Jake or Van. This is entirely from my crazy RPS-ing mind. Not real. NOT. No offense meant so if this ain't your thing, don't read, please. Also, I make no money from this. Thanks.
Author's Notes: Written for
bluejeanbaby01. She happened to mention the words Jake and Van and coffee in one breath. And then that happened. ::points at story:: Also for Van/Jake fanfic 100 prompt 039. Taste. Big thanks to jyl22075 for the beta! Also to Mayah and Moey for the encouragement. ♥Drink You In
June 2007
Van groaned and threw his script to the floor, letting his head fall back against the couch. It might have been old and ratty but it had the perfect curve for his head. It was what he loved about it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He was exhausted.
All the filming in Branson, not to mention all the regular filming on top of all the auditioning his agent had been setting up and he was ready to take some vacation. Except now Luke and Noah’s story was starting to get somewhere. He smiled when he thought of the upcoming scenes with Jake. He couldn’t wait to see where they went with it.
“What’s with the grin, Hansis?”
Think of the devil.
He didn’t open his eyes, just threw one hand over them and shrugged, “What? Can’t a man be content?”
“Ha. You look more like the cat that swallowed the canary then content.”
Van moved his hand, squinting up at the tall shadow over him. “Wouldn’t the cat look content if he swallowed the canary?”
“No. He’d look satisfied.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“It is not.”
Van opened his eyes, grinning up at Jake, and shook his head. “Dude, you’re the writer, you should know the meaning of words. Look it up. Content so totally means satisfied.”
Jake raised an eyebrow at him, giving him that slow smile and Van looked away, ignoring that jelly feeling in his legs and the fact that he was having difficulty breathing.
He so did not think about the fact that it happened a lot.
“And here I was thinking about you.”
Van’s head turned so fast his neck creaked and he met Jake’s eyes. “What?”
Jake blinked at him, eyebrows scrunched a little and he brought his hand up to where Van could see. He was holding a Starbucks coffee cup. “I figured you could use it.”
“Oh,” Van sighed, relieved, and grabbed the cup, his fingers touching Jake’s before pulling back with the drink in hand. “Thanks, man.” Jake plopped down next to him and Van smiled over at his co-star, his new friend and took a sip of his coffee. “How do you always know what I need?”
Jake shrugged, “I’m awesome that way.”
Van laughed, bumping his shoulder into Jake’s. “I’ll remember that next time I need a fix of something.”
Jake grinned at him, blue eyes shining with delight, “Anytime, Van.” Jake always looked at him that way.
Van didn’t think about what it meant.
“So, you ready to tell me how you feel?”
Van stopped mid-drink to stare at Jake. “Um…”
Jake pointed to the script. “The scenes for today? You know Luke confesses his attraction to Noah.”
“Noah is completely in denial.”
Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Poor bastard has no idea what he’s missing, huh?” He winked at Van and plopped down on the couch. “Did you want to run lines?”
Van swallowed the deep, rich, flavored coffee and did not watch Jake take a sip of his. He did not watch the way his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He did not watch the way his eyes fluttered shut (he had really fucking pretty eyes) when he swallowed.
And he certainly didn’t think about what Jake’s mouth would taste like.
Nope. Not at all.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
November 2007
"See you tonight, Van."
"Later, Petey."
He bundled his scarf around his neck, glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. He was going to be late for taping. Letting out a deep sigh, Van glanced longingly at the Subway across the street, before heading in the direction of the train station. Costume fittings were curses of the worst kind. He hated them infinitely more each time but he couldn’t complain too horribly. He loved working on something funny and outrageous.
He snorted at the thought. It wasn’t like working on a soap was based in any kind of reality.
His phone vibrated against his leg and he reached into his pocket, slowing his steps to grasp it. With it firmly in hand, he jogged down the stairs, heading toward the train. He slid his metro card through the turnstile, flipping his phone open, grinning at the message.
Dude. You got twenty minutes. Make a break for it!
He pressed the buttons in response, scrunching his nose as the stale underground air blew into his face. The incoming train screeched to a stop, and he climbed into the cab, taking a seat before pressing send.
on the train, man. b there in no time.
Seconds later, there was another beep and he rolled his eyes.
You haven’t made it here, yet. Don’t count your chickens or whatever.
Van snorted, shaking his head.
don’t try to get out of this, silbermann. you owe me.
He glanced at his reflection in the glass of the window. He was grinning like an idiot. The beep came again and he glanced down.
They are taking me in. Noah in a scene without Luke. Hell is freezing over.
Van laughed out loud as he typed: look out the window. flying pigs, i bet. and don’t try to distract me. i expect you to pay up.
The answer was immediate: Don’t get your short shorts in a bunch. It’s covered.
Van narrowed his eyes, sighing as he shook his head. He was never going to live those damn shorts down. The train pulled up to his stop and he rushed off. He had five minutes before he was due in makeup. Running across the street, he flew through the studio entrance, waving at Ron as he did. He bumped into Austin, apologized for almost knocking him over, and made it right on time.
“There he is!” Chris greeted him with a smile and patted her chair. “On the dot.”
“I am a consummate professional who is always on time.”
She laughed out loud. “Jake said you’d say that.”
Van grinned and plopped down in the chair, taking a deep breath and listening to Chris chatter away….
Chris shook him awake half an hour later. “You can sleep through anything, doll face.”
It was totally a talent of his.
He thanked her and headed to his room. He had about twenty minutes before he was due on set. His stomach growled as he reached his dressing room. He contemplated getting something from the vending machines. He stepped into his room and froze in place.
There on the table were two bags from Subway and an iced coffee. Van blinked at the sight for a full minute before he noticed the note lying next to the bags and picked it up.
I figured you deserved this either way. Chow down and then come rescue me, please! - J.
Van smiled wide, reading the note a few times before placing it into his drawer and digging into the bag. He’d need the nourishment, for sure.
Saving Jake was serious business.
April 2008
The world was tipping over and he wanted to go with it.
Maybe Marnie was right. Those last few shots with Billy might have been a mistake.
Van tilted his head back, feeling solid muscle and warmth behind him. There were several goodbyes yelled at him as he wobbled through the door and he waved back at them, grinning. Jake’s hand on his waist steadied him as he walked. Deep voice in his ear assuring someone he would make sure to take care of him.
Him? What him was Jake supposed to take care of?
He stumbled on a step, hands fumbling into Jake’s shirt and he leaned in, head rolling on Jake’s shoulder, taking a deep breath, filling his senses with the smell of cologne and sweat and Jake.
“Whoa. Gimme your hand.”
He snuck in a little deeper, closing his eyes and pretending for just one second…
“Van. Give me your hand, please.” Jake’s voice sounded strained even to Van’s alcohol numbed hearing.
He grabbed Jake’s hand, fingers finding their places together and let Jake take the lead.
There was some yelling and then he was being hauled gently into a cab. His head fell onto Jake’s shoulder automatically and he sighed, letting his mind zone out. When he came to, he was being pushed through his door.
“Hey, this is my apartment.” He gave Jake a grin, holding onto his arm as he guided him to the bedroom.
Jake chuckled and Van realized - through his own muddled brain - that Jake wasn’t nearly as sober as he pretended to be.
“You’re a dork.”
“Yes! But I have rights!” Van raised his arms over his head in a victory sign and collapsed into giggles on his bed. His arms stretched out over his head and he wiggled his fingers, brushing them against his sheets. It was like his fingers had extra feeling in them, like he could sense more through his fingertips. Like a superhero or something. That totally felt really weird but awesome at the same time
He leaned his head up a little when Jake started to laugh. “Did I say that out loud?”
Jake nodded his head, taking off his jacket, and dropping to kneel next to Van. “Yes. Yes, you did.” He reached for Van’s shoes, untying the laces and pulling them off, socks and all. Van bit back a sound when Jake’s hands brushed over his ankle.
“Um…Jake?”
“Hmm?” He pulled off the second shoe, same expert brush of hands until he was holding Van’s naked feet in his hand.
Jake had Van’s naked feet in his hands.
Jake. Hands. Naked feet.
Van swallowed loudly and Jake glanced up then, one eyebrow raised in question, reaching for Van and pulling him until he sat up. Jake pushed at the jacket Van was wearing.
Van watched him. Watched his face scrunch in concentration as he pulled Van’s arms out of the sleeves. Watched as he folded it and put it on floor next to him. Watched as he pulled at Van’s knees.
Then blue fixed on him and Van held a breath, head leaning in closer. “Jake.” He could smell him now. He thought he heard Jake’s breath hitch just a bit before he responded.
“Van.”
It almost sounded like his voice trembled just a little at the end. Jake’s eyes looked different now, darker, wider and Van bit back a wobbly smile. “You know you have really fucking pretty eyes.” One hand reached up to brush dark hair away from Jake’s forehead, letting more light hit them. “I remember them first.” His tongue was numb so his words sounded wrong even to his ears but whatever he had said couldn’t have been so bad since Jake’s face flushed pink.
Warm hands gripped his shoulders and Jake’s eyes were gone, hidden behind closed lids, but now his head had closed the distance, leaning against Van’s. “I’m drunk, man. But not drunk enough that I won’t remember this. So, if you don’t…” Eyes opened to look directly into Van’s. He was going to go cross-eyed but he wanted to look at Jake.
He kinda always wanted to look at Jake.
He loved to look at Jake.
He loved Jake.
His stomach rolled suddenly and he pushed at Jake, ignoring his worried questions, running into the bathroom, head into his toilet and he threw up…
When Van tried to open his eyes the first time it was like someone hitting him repeatedly on the head with a hammer. Made of angry metal and stuff. He groaned into his pillow, coughing and cringing at what that did to the inside of his brain. What was left of it anyway. Moving slowly, he managed to turn his head enough and squinted at the clock. It was after noon already. He counted the days and sighed in relief when he stopped on Sunday.
Good. He could die in peace.
He tried the open his eyes trick again and this time it wasn’t nearly as painful. Just torture now not death. His vision blurred without his glasses (and because of the great amount of liquor swimming behind his eyes) but he noticed a glass shaped something with what looked like clear liquid and two smaller pill shaped things on his night stand.
God bless the aspirin/water-leaving-elf that had put it there for him.
Pulling up, he waited until the room stopped spinning and slowly drank down the pills and water. His stomach protested for a few seconds but settled after it realized nothing was being forced into it. He closed his eyes, leaning back with the plan to stay in bed and die quietly when a noise from the living room reverberated in his head.
“Ugh.”
Someone was in his apartment.
That sobered him up faster then anything else could. Van stared at his slightly closed bedroom door, straining to remember the night before.
Nuke-a-palooza. He knew that much.
Lots of drinks. He was sure of that.
Something with jell-o shots and a contest with Billy. (Who in there right mind competed against Billy?)
And then the rest was blank.
He would hurt himself if he tried to remember so he pushed up, feet landed on the cold floor and he moved like he was a hundred years old.
Had he picked someone up on the way home?
He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten to his apartment.
Reaching the bathroom, he splashed cold water in his face, yawning and then making a face when the odor inside his mouth reached his nose. Jesus. Something had fucking died in there. With a lot of effort, he brushed his teeth, holding his head so it wouldn’t shake too much. When he was sure his killer breath had been taken care of, he shuffled out of his room and into the hall.
He froze at the entrance to his kitchen, eyes landing on a muscled back standing at his stove.
Jake.
Flashes of the night came back to him and Van squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away the panicky feeling, and opening them again to focus of Jake.
“Hey.”
Jake jumped a foot, spun around like he was on fire, and Van would have laughed at the nauseous look that came over his face if all the movement hadn’t caused his own stomach to roll some.
“Holy shit! Van, you scared me.” His hand reached up to touch his forehead, digging fingers into the temple and massaging. Van could sympathize. He smiled at Jake, walking gingerly into the kitchen, his voice soft when he said, “You’re here.”
“You’re up.” Jake stepped back to let Van have access to his fridge. “I didn’t think you’d actually make it out of bed today.”
Van reached inside for the orange juice, stopping when Jake’s hand covered his arm, ignoring what it did to his already tormented stomach, and he turned questioning eyes up at his friend. “I just want some -”
Jake smiled softly, then nodded toward the counter where there was a cup of coffee, bottle of water, two pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice sitting on a silver serving tray.
Van blinked at it then glanced back up at Jake. He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was “I have a serving tray?”
Jake snorted, shuffling Van closer, the front of his jean-clad thighs pressed against the back of Van’s exposed legs. Van concentrated on breathing, taking the juice Jake handed him. “I figured you’d be worse for wear after last night.”
Van nodded, then stopped when sharp pain echoed in his head. “Oh, yeah.” He sipped at the juice, the acid churning his stomach before the coolness soothed it. “What happened?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jake freeze and he looked over, his brow scrunching down. “What?” The silence made his stomach drop and he closed his eyes, breathing out a quiet, “Did I say something…”
He had a tendency of doing that. Making stupid jokes. Confessing thoughts or feelings. It had gotten him trouble on more then one occasion. He wasn’t sure what he could have said but…
“Was I rude? An asshole? Cause I can be when I’m like that. Did I…I’m sorry if I…”
Jake gripped Van’s shoulder, shaking him just once, the juice in the glass swooshing around but not spilling. “Van, chill. Relax. It’s fine.”
Van turned wide eyes up to his best friend, breathing out, asking, “So I didn’t say or, you know, do something to -”, he waved his hand to indicate Jake.
Jake reached up to brush his hair back, setting loose everything inside Van, and he was silent for several beats. Then, he shook his head, looking away.
“Nothing I can remember.”
Van sighed, swallowing a large gulp of juice before turning a dimmed grin at Jake. “Thank god. I hate when you’re so drunk that you say all these things you don’t even mean, you know?”
“Yeah. That sucks.”
If he hadn’t been watching him, Van would have missed the look that passed over Jake’s face. He wasn’t sure how to describe it -- Pain? Sadness? “Hey, thank you, man.” Van placed his glass on the counter, gripping Jake’s arms, pulling him into a hug. He rested his head in the crook of Jake’s neck, taking a deep breath of Jake in. His skin was warm and familiar and everywhere. “You’re a good friend, Jake.”
Jake’s hand tightened around Van’s waist for one long moment and then he pushed gently, making sure Van was steady before letting go completely. “I should probably go home.”
He pointed to the tray. “There’s a couple of more aspirins on there if you need them. Try not to do anything that gives us a repeat performance of last night.”
Van blinked.
“You kind of threw up, um, pretty much all over.“
Van dropped his head and groaned. “Oh, man. Sorry.“
“It’s okay. I managed to get you in bed and undressed without getting any on me so that was a plus.“ Jake bit his lip and Van’s eyes settled there before looking up at him. There was something awkward in the air now, something that had never been there before and after a few silent seconds more, Jake waved a hand at his bare chest, smiling that crooked one that Van liked best. “I should get my shirt.”
Van nodded, eyes flicking away from the expanse of skin to the tray, and when he looked back up, Jake was gone. He let out the breath he was holding and glanced in the direction of his room, listening to Jake’s noises.
There was something he was forgetting.
Something nagging at him in the back of his mind. Something he was supposed to say. Wanted to say.
Van reached for the coffee, trying to remember, to think of whatever it was he was missing.
It was important.
That much he knew.
Part Two
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-08-26 07:42 am (UTC)*waits anxiously for part 2*
:D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
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Date: 2009-08-26 08:41 pm (UTC):D :D :D :D
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Date: 2009-08-26 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 08:42 pm (UTC)And I'm so glad you like it!
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Date: 2009-08-26 02:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-27 04:55 am (UTC)I read pretty briskly and that was still really painful!
Of course, I think me reading briskly is just reading like a normal person, lol. You know how I read so slooooowly and have to read the same sentence over and over sometimes.
Anyhoo, def. fucking good. Loved the "content"/"satisfied" argument, very them :) And I slowed enough to quote this...
God bless the aspirin/water-leaving-elf that had put it there for him.
...and this...
He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was “I have a serving tray?”
Lol! And reminded me of Miranda saying to Robert, "I have placemats??" (just saw that)
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Date: 2009-08-27 05:48 am (UTC)Yay! I love that elf line and yes, that serving tray thing made me think of Miranda, too, actually. Or it might been Carrie. She says something similar. :)
Thanks for reading, though. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-01-16 10:23 am (UTC)