Ally «my eyes are on you yeah» (kickawesome) wrote,
@ 2008-10-14 22:07:00

Current mood:	blah
Entry tags:	meme

[Meme] stolen from osteological
Pick a pairing from my fandoms, and come with a location and/or situation, and I will write you between 50 and ~~250 words~~ I LAUGH IN THE FACE OF UPPER LIMITS about the kiss that happened in that context.

If you're not sure whether I do a fandom or not, ask!

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Jack/??? (Part 1)

kickawesome
2008-10-17 04:17 pm UTC (link)

"Nah, man," Jack mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, a fresh cigarette bouncing between his lips. "Only a few times." He paused to flick open a lighter and buoyed it to the unlit end.

"More than that?" he continued, casting a sidelong look downward to the short man sidled up to the same brick wall. There was a click as Jack snapped his wrist and tucked the well-smudged silver lighter away. "My brother would kill me."

Jack took a drag and as his companion snorted in disbelief. "You shitting me? That's your excuse?" The green-eyed, clean shaven LA native was no older than wild-haired Michigan-born Jack, but for a city of youth, the pair looked like they belonged anywhere but huddle up outside an empty dive bar on an equally vacant street in Korea Town.

"He's half across the fuckin' country, right?" the shorter man said with a bark of a laugh and jabbed at Jack's side with an elbow. "That can't be your excuse, man. Maybe your just a chump, huh? What? What're you smilin' at?"

Jack blew out a sharp line of smoke and started to chuckle. A quirk of a half smile pulled at his lips and he finally glanced back with a pointed quirk of his brow. "You don't know my brother, man..." he replied, amusement filling his voice.

A minivan slowing on the street before them wiped away the grins. Jack took another drag off the cigarette and dropped his head back to stone wall behind him. He counted off five seconds to himself and seeing that van hadn't moved, he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to his own artistically torn Clash t-shirt.

"You were already here before me, man," Jack muttered quietly.

The other man shook his head. "Nah, man," a light backhand to the arm of Jack's well-worn leather jacket, "you got your mom and all." Jack glanced up to the brunette's face. "I can wait. It'd probably just go toward another dime of that shit anyway," the attempt at a light laugh came out more awkward than Jack was sure the guy had intended.

"You're sure?"

A scoff. "Man, go on before the prick decides we ain't worth it."

Jack pushed himself off the wall and handed back what remained of his cigarette. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it," the shorter man muttered and resigned himself back to the cozy stone wall. "Just give me a shout when you get back. We'll do--uh--drinks! Warm milk for you."

The roll of Jack's eyes wasn't for the rebuffing line, it was more for how many times he'd heard it back home.

"Hey, Jack!"

Hand already on the minivan's passenger door handle, Jack tossed a confused look back over his shoulder.

"I'm really sorry about your mom. Really. Wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Jack gave a glum nod in response and puffed out a sigh as yanked open the burgundy-colored door. "Hey," he all but grunted and climbed in. The van was moving before he got the door shut.

Great. A sprinter.

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