Chell (mongrel) wrote in gen_m_logs, @ 2008-07-04 11:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | jack murdock, phil mccoy |
log: Jack and Phil
Who: Jack Murdock and Phil McCoy
What: They meet, they talk, they decide to get back together. Ah, like you didn't see it coming. WE ARE SO TRANSPARENT.
When: July 2
Where: Academy grounds
Phil agreed. He's not sure why. In his mind, as of their last meeting? That was it. He tried, he tried, he tried. It's not going to work, it's not going to plan at all. The plan had been to get some time from Jack, figure things out, and get back with Jack. Apparently that wasn't going to happen.
So, Phil went to the stupid gardens to wait for stupid Jackie on this stupid night.
Jack's late. Jack's late because he's scared. He's in jeans and a t-shirt. Worn out flip flops. Nothing fancy, nothing special. Not ready for battle but not dressed up, either. He's scared and he's convinced that his already broken heart will end up getting shattered. But he has to do it. He has to do this. It's one last chance. It's all he has.
When he walks up, his hands are in his pockets and his eyes are level. No evasiveness now, no closing his eyes now. "Hi."
Phil looks like he just ran straight from his room out to the gardens. Barefoot. Gym shorts. White t-shirt (that might just have a coffee stain on it). "Hi."
Jack's frozen for a bit, just looking at him. Oh, God. It takes him a while. He had everything planned. He'd practiced a speech, straight out of the movies. He knew exactly what he was going to say and in seeing Phil it all rushes out the window. "...Hi."
"We said that already. What do you want from me, Jackie?" Phil bites his lip. Being around Jack makes him sad and he doesn't like it.
"I... it..." Jack's not getting anywhere.
"Look. I don't think this .. I can't do this. I can't keep getting jerked around. I ... " The grass feels nice under his feet. "I'm going to go if you can't spit it out."
Jack's not jerking around! He's not fucking jerking around. He looks like he's going to protest and then he kicks the grass. Fuck. Fuck, why can't he remember anything? Why does he look like he's going to faint? Why does he feel sick? It's like he's never spoken to Phil before.
Phil frowns. He can't bring himself to walk away. He does start to back up in the direction he came, though. "Sprechen Sie Englisch? ¿Habla usted inglés? Parlez-vous anglais?" Then he holds his hands up and signs, Do you understand? Thanks, Benjy.
Phil's leaving. Phil's backing up, and Jack takes a stagging step forward like he's lunging for him. "I love you!" he blurts out, like he's never said it before. It's more honest, more desperate.
Phil stares. His hand goes into the handshape of I Love You. Kind of looks like he's throwing the horns or something. "Oh. Okay. And?"
"And I ... and that's it," Jack murmurs, straightening up where he is. He rubs his hands on his pants like he's trying to clean off his palms. "And I love you. I love you. I don't know if we can ... I don't know if... if... hn. I did things. You ... did things. We said awful things, I can't say I'm sorry a hundred times. It happened and at the time I said them I probably meant them. But in saying sorry I didn't say... didn't say what I had to say. And that's that I can't sleep at night because the sheets still smell like you. I can't listen to your heartbeat without feeling sick. I can't... do anything without thinking about you and I hate myself for it but I also know that if I don't say this now, if I don't tell you, then... then I have no excuse to be upset. I love you. I don't want you to choose between me and your family, between you and the rest of your life. I want... I wish there was enough room in your heart for me, too. I want to be a part of your life. I don't want you to be ashamed of me, or scared of what I'll do. Maybe I'm unhealthy for you. Maybe I... maybe I'm more dangerous than I realize. I don't know any of that. I just know that I ... love you. To the point where it hurts, all the time. I can't just stop because we argue or because we're cruel. Maybe I'm crueler because I'm trying not to care. But I can't. So... so I."
Jack ends his sentence but doesn't complete it. He's made a complete fool of himself. That was nothing like the beautiful speech he'd planned.
It was beautiful to Phil. He looks like he's been physically struck. Then he's moving forward, wrapping his arms around Jack's waist and kissing him. That's his version of Jack's speech.
It's not like the last time they kissed. It's not vindictive, it's not a challenge, it's not desperate. Jack's hesitant to touch him, hesitant to move. His hands rests on Phil's shoulders, he kisses back. Shaking. He doesn't know how to take this. It could be a kiss goodbye for all he knows.
Phil pulls away, but not by much. Little, tentative kisses to Jack's bottom lip. "I'm sorry. For everything. I love you. Just give me space when I need it and tell me to fuck off when I'm being an idiot." Them's the rules. And as if it's the last rule on that list, Phil kisses Jack again, like he means it.
Jack has to pull away. Reluctantly. He's missed kissing him, but. "Let me try again. Please. This was ... this is a misunderstanding, this is stuff we can get through. It is."
"Yes, yeah, okay, of course." Duh! That's what the apologies are for! Why must Jack talk about everything?
"I'm doing that thing again, aren't I." Where Jack talks too much. Yeah. He's doing that thing.
"Yes! Shut up and enjoy the fact that we're on the same wavelength or something. Sorry. I love you. There. It's done. Verbal contract." Phil kisses the corner of Jack's mouth, his cheek, working his way over to Jack's ear.
Jack breathes a laugh, like he's afraid to actually laugh, and he buries his face against Phil's shoulder. Arms slide around his ribs, hands resting on Phil's shoulder blades and clenching in his shirt. He's still shaking, and it's obvious from the smell in the air, from the way he's moving----yeah. He's crying. A little. Not much. Just a little. He's not afraid to do it, either. He's not embarrassed. It is what it is. He's not holding back right now.
"Jaaaaack." Phil just holds him. Lets him do what he's gotta do. "It's all right. It was a speed bump. A hiccup. A growing pain?" That last one doesn't really belong. But it'll do.
"Shh. Shut up. Shut up, stop talking," Jack whispers, just wanting to hold him. Listen to his heart.
"That's what I said--!" Phil gets quiet, lets Jack do ... what Jack needs to do. And maybe? Shh, don't tell, it's what Phil needs to do.