WHO: Bravo and Jack WHEN: WHERE: I RENDER THESE QUESTIONS OBSOLETE. act like you have brains and just shove it all in the "what". because I'm fucking lazy and I say so, SO THERE. WHAT: Bravo confronts Jack about some ... uncomfortable feelings. It Does Not Go Well.
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Bravo didn't like the way Jack made him feel. He loved Romeo. She was his girl, he wanted to run away with her and be with her forever. Right? Yeah? But there was this guy. He wasn't a Jet, or a Shark. He was just some guy that made Bravo really fucking uncomfortable.
He couldn't stop thinking about him. Bravo wasn't gay, all right? He was just going to the gym to tell Jack that, and be done with it.
"Hey!" Bravo looked appropriately tough and gang-y. He was the goddamn second in command of the goddamn Jets, in his beat up jeans and his sweater.
Jack spent most of his time in the gym or in his room when he wasn't keeping a distant eye on Bravo or meeting with the other handlers. Beating the crap out of a punching bag just made him feel better, damn it. He expected Mark to come after him. Not Mark----Bravo. He was back to being Bravo, except he was behaving like Mark.
Except for the fact that apparently, he was straight, and thought that Jack wanted to rape him. And for his own sanity, he was just going to let it pass and ignore this bullshit, but Bravo wasn't going to let it lie.
"Hey what." Jack slung an arm around his punching bag, watching Bravo and waiting.
"You know what. Who the hell are you?" Bravo looked like he was going to punch him. He was red in the face, embarrassed and flustered. Just looking at Jack made him uncomfortable and twitchy. He liked girls. He loved Romeo.
But if that was true, then why had he been thinking about Jack when he'd slept with her the other night? That didn't help the funny feelings, that's for sure.
"I'm Jack." He was reluctant to whip out the explanations. Again. He'd done this before, and this would end and hopefully Mark would go back to normal or something. "It's my job to make sure you don't get in trouble."
Bravo stalked right up to him, shoving him. "Oh, fuck you. I don't need a goddamn babysitter."
Jack smacked Bravo's hand away and shoved him. It wasn't vicious, but it was just to make clear that he wasn't allowed to push him. "No, you don't. You're a big tough gang member now." He suddenly understood why Laurence Dominic could be such a dick to the Actives sometimes.
"What do you mean now? It's always been that way." Bravo didn't like this. At all.
"No. It hasn't." Bravo wanted to know? Fine. "You're programmed. Your brain? It's programmed. You've been programmed to think that this is your life, that there are a couple of gangs... it's fucking West Side Story and a psychopath is fucking with you for fun. I'm Jack, you're Mark, and you're my partner." It was bitter and irritable rather than desperate and pleading. He didn't care if Bravo remembered right now.
Bravo grabbed him again. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He was glaring up---way up---at Jack. But ... wow, he almost believed it. He trusted Jack, and that bugged the hell out of him. Bravo reached up, and it seemed like he'd hit Jack... and instead, he just touched, fisting a hand in Jack's hair like he couldn't decide whether to pull or stroke.
"You heard me. This gang bullshit? It's not real." Jack didn't know about Romeo. He had no idea about her. "And soon, they're going to scramble your brains again so you won't remember this conversation." Jack was used to Mark switching personalities, but this was different. So different.
Bravo was quiet. He was confused, uneasy, his heart racing for some reason. "No. No, it has to be real." His touches were hard but ultimately desperate. "I slept with her and I thought about you," Bravo blurted.
"You slept with her. Slept with who?"
"Romeo. My girl---nobody knows. No one knows, she has a boyfriend---"
Jack pushed Mark's hand away, getting away from him. God damn it. Mark slept with other people all the time. When he was someone else. But Mark was Mark, except he didn't know it. He wiped a hand over his face, working to control himself. Breathe. "Your girl, huh?"
"Yeah, she ... for a long time, it..." Why did his chest hurt? Jack pulled away and Bravo very nearly followed him. "God damn it." Bravo actually stamped his foot. Just like Mark's mother, though he didn't know it. "It wasn't perfect, but everything with her was just fucking fine until you showed up and now I can't get you out of my head!"
"You----" Jack glanced back at him. Mark argued so vehemently that Jack felt like this was his fault. "You know what? Forget it. Forget me." He didn't want to deal with this. He didn't know why Mark seemed to latch onto him regardless of the imprint. Maybe it was Alpha screwing with him.
Mark fucked Romeo. Jack was so mad he could punch him. He had to keep reminding himself that it was an imprint. It was an imprint.
"Oh, fuck you. You know I can't do that or I would." Bravo was dramatic. Mark always had been. "Don't you walk away from me!"
"Shut. Up. Just shut up." Jack ran his gloved hands back over his head, rubbed the back of his neck.
Bravo stepped forward and grabbed Jack's arm.
Jack tugged his arm back. "Listen. I'm sorry for disrupting your life. Or what you think is your life. But I can't do this right now. The last thing I need is you getting dramatic. Your name is Bravo, you're a Jet, and I was making that shit up, about mind control. And I'm sure you're very happy with your girl."
Bravo backed off. "Fine. Get the hell out."
"This is my turf you're on." Jack stood his ground. He wasn't running off and letting Mark order him around.
Bravo scowled---but he headed out, shoving Jack out of his way and slamming the door behind him.