Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 08:12 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 08:12 pm
Fake News (RPF) | The Way Things Need To Be | PG-13 | Brian/Jon (1/10)
Title: The Way Things Need To Be (1/10)
Fandom: Fake News (RPF)
Rating: PG-13 for this part.
Pairing: Brian/Jon and others.
Warning: AU; BDSM.
Summary: In a universe where people are primarily defined by position—whether they are dominant, a switch, or submissive—Jon and others struggle to deal with dating, prejudice, and the drama that comes from not fitting neatly inside society’s narrowly-defined idea of how things should be.
Word Count: 1,873 for this part.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: See masterpost for full header, author’s notes, and thanks.
Jon had been single for three months now, and was a little surprised to find he wasn’t bitter.
He had only been metaphorically decollared, since Tracey didn’t insist on it—she’d never treated symbols with much respect. They’d also both seen the end coming a mile away, as inevitable as it was. Growing apart, developing new differences, a relationship becoming stagnant—these things happened. It was as amicable as those sorts of things could ever be, and they would remain, if not friends right away, then at least close acquaintances—something that was necessary for the kids’ sake, but also for theirs as well.
It was strange, being single. He’d grown used to having a dom at home. Tracey was the best sort of dom, too: reasonable, approachable, and easy-going. He’d half-suspected he was gay before he’d met her, having met one too many doms who preferred power-trips and constant, total subservience rather than someone who could think for himself. Jon was a sub; that didn’t mean he was brain-dead.
He supposed it was fortunate that he wasn’t gay. Holding down his job was difficult enough sometimes; the ridicule he’d face if he’d never had a dom would make it almost impossible. He’d only been single three months and already his mom had tried six different times to set him up on a blind date. He’d only given in once, and that was enough to know to never do that again.
It was bullshit, of course. Two doms could be in a relationship, and while it occasionally garnered a few raised eyebrows, no one really cared—but two subs? Call the fucking National Guard, because clearly that was some sort of emergency.
Oh, so that was where his bitterness had been hiding. Okay.
He sighed. He was tired. He was sick of the stupid games that he had to play in order to be considered acceptable to society. If he didn’t start dating again soon, trying to find another dom, the whispers would start, calling him uncollarable, out-of-control, immature, what-have-you. It was ridiculous, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Fuck it,” he said aloud, and put it out of his mind for now. He’d worry about the bullshit when it cropped up.
* * *
Stephen absently toyed with the gold torque around his neck as he re-read a section in the script for that night’s show. There was one line that was bothering him, and if he could just figure out which one it was—
“Food, Stephen. You have to actually eat. It’s already three, and you skipped lunch,” came the voice of his right-hand, Allison Silverman.
He looked up, raising an eyebrow at her. “I already have a dom, you know,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
“I know, and she agrees with me. You need to eat.”
“I just need to fix one—” he started, but Allison interrupted.
“I will actually call Evie if you don’t put that down and eat something. I know for a fact you’re actually supposed to eat lunch on time every day—she specifically mentioned it to me. She said you’ve been overworking even more than usual lately.”
“Fine,” he said, exasperated, and purposely ignored Allison muttering, “brat,” underneath her breath. “What’s for lunch?”
“You get a choice—turkey or chicken?”
“Turkey.”
“Turkey it is.” She handed him a wrapped sandwich. “Oh, we get a new batch of interns next week,” she added.
“Already? Damn,” he said, unwrapping his sandwich.
“I know.” She looked sideways at Stephen. “How’s Jon doing?”
“No, he does not need you to set him up with one of your friends,” Stephen replied dutifully.
Allison gave him annoyed look. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I work for you; I’m more than aware of the fact that subs can survive without doms, Christ.”
Stephen sighed. “I know, sorry. It’s just that the last four people who asked me that then followed up with a suggestion for a blind date, and that’s really not what Jon needs right now.”
“I kind of figured that, not being an idiot and all.”
“I mentioned I was sorry, right? I am. Really.” He paused. “He’s doing okay. Not good, but better than he’s been, and not as bad as he could be.”
She nodded, taking that in. “Tell him I’m around if he wants to talk.”
“I will,” he said, and smiled.
She smiled back, and then looked at him critically. “So what’s been eating you?”
“Hmm?”
“By the way, Stephen, you’re not good at pretending to be innocent. The overworking. You tend to do that when something’s bugging you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Right.”
“I haven’t even told Evie yet, and she can actually make me.”
“But she hasn’t and won’t, because that’s not Evie’s style unless she’s seriously concerned. Keep up the overworking and you might get to that point, though, so why don’t you bounce it off me first? A practice run. Might even make you feel better.”
Stephen sighed. “All right,” he said, then continued: “A kid at Peter’s school was going on about how subs are supposed to stay at home, and doms are supposed to be the ones who work. When Peter told him that the opposite was true with us, the kid sneered that it was unnatural or some other bullshit. It upset him, of course, but what really surprised me was how much it upset me.” Stephen shook his head, sighing again. “We’re raising the kids to treat subs with respect, and I know plenty of others are as well, but just when I think that society’s making progress, something dumb like that makes me realize how far we still have to go.”
“Well, look at this way: it was just some dumb kid parroting the bigoted beliefs of his parents. There’s plenty more kids out there who are actually thinking for themselves.” She looked at him. “And I can see what else you’re thinking, too. You’re thinking, ‘Do I belong at home?’ I know how you are with those kids, and no one can deny it’s a thing of brilliance, but you also belong right here. Your brilliance is very versatile, Stephen. Don’t ever doubt it.”
He smiled, albeit weakly. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She glanced at the clock. “I need to get back to work. You have to finish eating.”
“Sometimes I feel like I have two doms.”
“Sometimes I feel like you need two,” she said, smirking at him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m hardly that unmanageable.”
“Nah, just a brat,” she said, and chuckled at his look before leaving.
He rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his sandwich. Then he picked up the script again—no reason he couldn’t eat and work, after all.
* * *
“No, Mom, I don’t—yes, I’m sure she’s very nice, but I really don’t want to go on any blind dates right—uh-huh, of course, what day?” He listened. “Ah, too bad! I already have plans that day. Oh well. We’ll have to reschedule.” Brian Williams took that moment to walk into his office, and Jon gave him an apologetic look, indicating he’d be a minute. “I have to go now, Mom, Brian Williams just walked into my office.” He rolled his eyes skyward. “No, I am not asking him that. I’ll call you back. Love you too. Bye.” He hung up. “Dude,” he said, looking at Brian, “you have no idea how glad I am to see you right now.”
Brian gave him an amused look. “What was that about?”
“Tracey and I split a little over three months ago,” Jon said. “She’s been trying to set me up pretty much since two weeks after it happened.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Brian said sympathetically, sinking down into the chair across from Jon’s desk.
Jon shrugged. “We both knew it was coming. I think we might actually end up friends.”
“That’s something,” Brian allowed, then looked curiously at Jon. “So what did she want you to ask me?”
“Oh, god,” Jon said, burying his face in his hands. “She knows you’re a dom. I think she wanted me to fling myself at your feet or something equally ridiculous.”
“I don’t recommend that. You might pull something.” Brian smirked at him.
Jon laughed. "Yeah, I probably would.” He shook his head. “So! I invited you here for a reason other than discussing my mother’s matchmaking attempts. The votes are in, my friend: we need more Giant Head.”
Brian chuckled. “Of course. What insane things are you going to ask me to say this time, and will I have any dignity left after it’s over?”
“Not if everything goes according to plan!”
* * *
“Brian Williams just asked me out,” Jon said without preamble, walking into Stephen’s office. He normally only visited at lunch, but he’d been distracted by this since it had happened—right after they’d recorded for the Giant Head bit—and knew that talking to Stephen would help.
Stephen looked up, blinking. “What’d you say?” he asked.
“I...said yes,” Jon replied, sinking down into the chair across from Stephen’s desk. “I’m not sure why. Do you think my mother’s figured out how to take control of my vocal cords via long distance?”
“Absolutely.” Stephen rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you said yes because you like Brian and you’ve been alone for three months after not being alone for almost a decade?”
“Because god forbid I stay single.”
“Oh, come on, Jon. It’s a date. He’s not going to collar you after one night.” Stephen shrugged. “Besides, it’s Brian. He knows you. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” Jon said, thinking that over. “Yeah. You’re right, of course. I’ve just been really...”
“Twisted around?”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t think anyone can blame you for that,” Stephen said. “But like I said, it’s Brian. Better him than another blind date.”
Jon shuddered. “Tell me about it, man.” The one date he’d let his mother set him up on had gone horribly. The guy hadn’t been interested in a person as much as he had an ornament; he’d started right away by criticizing Jon’s clothing choices, he’d insisted on micromanaging every moment of their night together—something Jon hated—and when they’d actually started an interesting discussion he’d discounted everything Jon had said out of hand. It had been a frustrating night, and Jon had ended up summarily dismissing the guy at his door, much to the other man’s surprise and anger. “The last one was a douchebag. At least I know Brian isn’t going to be like that.” Jon shook his head. “So, anything new and exciting happening with you?”
“We’re getting new interns in a few days?” Stephen tried.
“We get new interns at the same time, Stephen. I know all about that.”
“Then no.”
“You haven’t been overworking or anything?”
“You’ve been talking to Allison.”
“Only a little.”
“I’m fine. I talked about it with Evie—everything’s fine.”
“She set a curfew, didn’t she?”
“Oh yeah.”
Jon laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He stood after he glanced at the clock. “I should get back. Thanks for talking me down.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
Fandom: Fake News (RPF)
Rating: PG-13 for this part.
Pairing: Brian/Jon and others.
Warning: AU; BDSM.
Summary: In a universe where people are primarily defined by position—whether they are dominant, a switch, or submissive—Jon and others struggle to deal with dating, prejudice, and the drama that comes from not fitting neatly inside society’s narrowly-defined idea of how things should be.
Word Count: 1,873 for this part.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: See masterpost for full header, author’s notes, and thanks.
Jon had been single for three months now, and was a little surprised to find he wasn’t bitter.
He had only been metaphorically decollared, since Tracey didn’t insist on it—she’d never treated symbols with much respect. They’d also both seen the end coming a mile away, as inevitable as it was. Growing apart, developing new differences, a relationship becoming stagnant—these things happened. It was as amicable as those sorts of things could ever be, and they would remain, if not friends right away, then at least close acquaintances—something that was necessary for the kids’ sake, but also for theirs as well.
It was strange, being single. He’d grown used to having a dom at home. Tracey was the best sort of dom, too: reasonable, approachable, and easy-going. He’d half-suspected he was gay before he’d met her, having met one too many doms who preferred power-trips and constant, total subservience rather than someone who could think for himself. Jon was a sub; that didn’t mean he was brain-dead.
He supposed it was fortunate that he wasn’t gay. Holding down his job was difficult enough sometimes; the ridicule he’d face if he’d never had a dom would make it almost impossible. He’d only been single three months and already his mom had tried six different times to set him up on a blind date. He’d only given in once, and that was enough to know to never do that again.
It was bullshit, of course. Two doms could be in a relationship, and while it occasionally garnered a few raised eyebrows, no one really cared—but two subs? Call the fucking National Guard, because clearly that was some sort of emergency.
Oh, so that was where his bitterness had been hiding. Okay.
He sighed. He was tired. He was sick of the stupid games that he had to play in order to be considered acceptable to society. If he didn’t start dating again soon, trying to find another dom, the whispers would start, calling him uncollarable, out-of-control, immature, what-have-you. It was ridiculous, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Fuck it,” he said aloud, and put it out of his mind for now. He’d worry about the bullshit when it cropped up.
Stephen absently toyed with the gold torque around his neck as he re-read a section in the script for that night’s show. There was one line that was bothering him, and if he could just figure out which one it was—
“Food, Stephen. You have to actually eat. It’s already three, and you skipped lunch,” came the voice of his right-hand, Allison Silverman.
He looked up, raising an eyebrow at her. “I already have a dom, you know,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
“I know, and she agrees with me. You need to eat.”
“I just need to fix one—” he started, but Allison interrupted.
“I will actually call Evie if you don’t put that down and eat something. I know for a fact you’re actually supposed to eat lunch on time every day—she specifically mentioned it to me. She said you’ve been overworking even more than usual lately.”
“Fine,” he said, exasperated, and purposely ignored Allison muttering, “brat,” underneath her breath. “What’s for lunch?”
“You get a choice—turkey or chicken?”
“Turkey.”
“Turkey it is.” She handed him a wrapped sandwich. “Oh, we get a new batch of interns next week,” she added.
“Already? Damn,” he said, unwrapping his sandwich.
“I know.” She looked sideways at Stephen. “How’s Jon doing?”
“No, he does not need you to set him up with one of your friends,” Stephen replied dutifully.
Allison gave him annoyed look. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I work for you; I’m more than aware of the fact that subs can survive without doms, Christ.”
Stephen sighed. “I know, sorry. It’s just that the last four people who asked me that then followed up with a suggestion for a blind date, and that’s really not what Jon needs right now.”
“I kind of figured that, not being an idiot and all.”
“I mentioned I was sorry, right? I am. Really.” He paused. “He’s doing okay. Not good, but better than he’s been, and not as bad as he could be.”
She nodded, taking that in. “Tell him I’m around if he wants to talk.”
“I will,” he said, and smiled.
She smiled back, and then looked at him critically. “So what’s been eating you?”
“Hmm?”
“By the way, Stephen, you’re not good at pretending to be innocent. The overworking. You tend to do that when something’s bugging you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Right.”
“I haven’t even told Evie yet, and she can actually make me.”
“But she hasn’t and won’t, because that’s not Evie’s style unless she’s seriously concerned. Keep up the overworking and you might get to that point, though, so why don’t you bounce it off me first? A practice run. Might even make you feel better.”
Stephen sighed. “All right,” he said, then continued: “A kid at Peter’s school was going on about how subs are supposed to stay at home, and doms are supposed to be the ones who work. When Peter told him that the opposite was true with us, the kid sneered that it was unnatural or some other bullshit. It upset him, of course, but what really surprised me was how much it upset me.” Stephen shook his head, sighing again. “We’re raising the kids to treat subs with respect, and I know plenty of others are as well, but just when I think that society’s making progress, something dumb like that makes me realize how far we still have to go.”
“Well, look at this way: it was just some dumb kid parroting the bigoted beliefs of his parents. There’s plenty more kids out there who are actually thinking for themselves.” She looked at him. “And I can see what else you’re thinking, too. You’re thinking, ‘Do I belong at home?’ I know how you are with those kids, and no one can deny it’s a thing of brilliance, but you also belong right here. Your brilliance is very versatile, Stephen. Don’t ever doubt it.”
He smiled, albeit weakly. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She glanced at the clock. “I need to get back to work. You have to finish eating.”
“Sometimes I feel like I have two doms.”
“Sometimes I feel like you need two,” she said, smirking at him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m hardly that unmanageable.”
“Nah, just a brat,” she said, and chuckled at his look before leaving.
He rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his sandwich. Then he picked up the script again—no reason he couldn’t eat and work, after all.
“No, Mom, I don’t—yes, I’m sure she’s very nice, but I really don’t want to go on any blind dates right—uh-huh, of course, what day?” He listened. “Ah, too bad! I already have plans that day. Oh well. We’ll have to reschedule.” Brian Williams took that moment to walk into his office, and Jon gave him an apologetic look, indicating he’d be a minute. “I have to go now, Mom, Brian Williams just walked into my office.” He rolled his eyes skyward. “No, I am not asking him that. I’ll call you back. Love you too. Bye.” He hung up. “Dude,” he said, looking at Brian, “you have no idea how glad I am to see you right now.”
Brian gave him an amused look. “What was that about?”
“Tracey and I split a little over three months ago,” Jon said. “She’s been trying to set me up pretty much since two weeks after it happened.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Brian said sympathetically, sinking down into the chair across from Jon’s desk.
Jon shrugged. “We both knew it was coming. I think we might actually end up friends.”
“That’s something,” Brian allowed, then looked curiously at Jon. “So what did she want you to ask me?”
“Oh, god,” Jon said, burying his face in his hands. “She knows you’re a dom. I think she wanted me to fling myself at your feet or something equally ridiculous.”
“I don’t recommend that. You might pull something.” Brian smirked at him.
Jon laughed. "Yeah, I probably would.” He shook his head. “So! I invited you here for a reason other than discussing my mother’s matchmaking attempts. The votes are in, my friend: we need more Giant Head.”
Brian chuckled. “Of course. What insane things are you going to ask me to say this time, and will I have any dignity left after it’s over?”
“Not if everything goes according to plan!”
“Brian Williams just asked me out,” Jon said without preamble, walking into Stephen’s office. He normally only visited at lunch, but he’d been distracted by this since it had happened—right after they’d recorded for the Giant Head bit—and knew that talking to Stephen would help.
Stephen looked up, blinking. “What’d you say?” he asked.
“I...said yes,” Jon replied, sinking down into the chair across from Stephen’s desk. “I’m not sure why. Do you think my mother’s figured out how to take control of my vocal cords via long distance?”
“Absolutely.” Stephen rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you said yes because you like Brian and you’ve been alone for three months after not being alone for almost a decade?”
“Because god forbid I stay single.”
“Oh, come on, Jon. It’s a date. He’s not going to collar you after one night.” Stephen shrugged. “Besides, it’s Brian. He knows you. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” Jon said, thinking that over. “Yeah. You’re right, of course. I’ve just been really...”
“Twisted around?”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t think anyone can blame you for that,” Stephen said. “But like I said, it’s Brian. Better him than another blind date.”
Jon shuddered. “Tell me about it, man.” The one date he’d let his mother set him up on had gone horribly. The guy hadn’t been interested in a person as much as he had an ornament; he’d started right away by criticizing Jon’s clothing choices, he’d insisted on micromanaging every moment of their night together—something Jon hated—and when they’d actually started an interesting discussion he’d discounted everything Jon had said out of hand. It had been a frustrating night, and Jon had ended up summarily dismissing the guy at his door, much to the other man’s surprise and anger. “The last one was a douchebag. At least I know Brian isn’t going to be like that.” Jon shook his head. “So, anything new and exciting happening with you?”
“We’re getting new interns in a few days?” Stephen tried.
“We get new interns at the same time, Stephen. I know all about that.”
“Then no.”
“You haven’t been overworking or anything?”
“You’ve been talking to Allison.”
“Only a little.”
“I’m fine. I talked about it with Evie—everything’s fine.”
“She set a curfew, didn’t she?”
“Oh yeah.”
Jon laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He stood after he glanced at the clock. “I should get back. Thanks for talking me down.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
no subject
no subject