Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-04 03:06 am
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-04 03:06 am
Fake News (FPF) | Five Things That... | PG | "Stephen"/OC; Evie; Jon
Title: Five Things That Could Have Happened To Stephen Colbert (But Never Did)
Fandom: Fake News (FPF)
Rating: PG
Pairing: OC/”Stephen”; Evie/”Stephen”; Jon/“Stephen”
Summary: A story told in might-have-beens.
Word Count: 1,582
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: Thanks for the beta, Abigail.
i. just five words
Stephen bounded up the walkway to his house; at ten years old, he was bursting with energy. “Guess what, Mom!” he said excitedly, as soon as he was inside the house. “I got an A on my math test!”
“Very good, dear,” his mom replied, smiling at her youngest child. “Make sure you show your father when he gets home.”
“Oh,” said Stephen, looking unsure. “Are you sure? He’ll probably be too tired, or somethin’. I don’t want to bother him.”
“Don’t be silly, Stephen. I’m sure he’d love to see it.”
Stephen spent the next three hours internally debating whether or not he should actually tell his dad about the math test or not. In the end, the decision was taken away from him by one of his many siblings: “What’s this on the fridge?” he asked, as he got out the milk.
His dad looked over to the refrigerator, and at his mom’s look, Stephen said sheepishly, “My math test,” he said. “I got an A.” He looked hopefully at his dad, who was smiling.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
ii. a good friend and more
Stephen knew he was a dork. He was sixteen, he’d never been on a date in his life, he liked Lord of the Rings and Dungeons and Dragons, the kids at school reminded him how much of a loser he was on a near-daily basis, and he only had a few close friends. He didn’t want to be a dork, but as far as he figured, there wasn’t much he could do to change it.
Since he was a dork, he wasn’t really good at the whole...crush thing. Sure, he had crushes, but he never really knew how to tell if the person he had a crush on was interested. And considering the nature of his crushes, he really didn’t want to chance being wrong.
This time was different. It seemed like James really liked him; they’d been friends for two years now, and Stephen thought that it was possible he liked him back. It still confused him, the way he could never quite stop staring at the curve of the other boy’s neck when he sat behind him in history class—why did he feel this way? He wasn’t sure it was totally normal.
But maybe...maybe if James felt the same way, maybe it was. It was very hard to focus on homework with all these thoughts running through his head, which was a problem. “Stephen?” called a voice, breaking in on his thoughts.
“Sorry, James.” They were studying together today. “I’m just...distracted.”
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No. Well, sort of. I don’t know.”
James looked confused. “What is it?”
“Have you ever liked someone and not known if they like you too?”
“Well, yeah,” James said. “Everyone has.”
“What if...it’s weird?”
“What’s weird?”
“Who you like.”
“Weird how?”
“Not...” Stephen shook his head. “Never mind.”
“You have to tell me now,” James said. “Not what?”
“Not normal.”
“How can liking someone be not normal? Everyone does it.”
“Trust me, it’s not.”
James looked at him curiously. “Who do you like?”
“You’ll think I’m a freak.”
“No I won’t.”
“It’s...” Stephen stopped, sighing. “It’s...not a girl.” He looked down.
James didn’t say anything for a minute. “...really?” he asked quietly.
Stephen was so surprised that James hadn’t immediately jumped away from him, he couldn’t help but answer honestly. “Yeah. I don’t really like girls. I know I’m supposed to, but—”
“But you just don’t?”
“Yeah,” Stephen said. “How’d you know?”
“I’m the same way,” James said, so quietly it was a whisper.
The two boys looked at each other then, just staring for a few seconds. At the same time, they started leaning in, and the kiss was hesitant and inexperienced. In spite of this, Stephen’s head was swimming, and he couldn’t help but gasp as they broke apart. He licked his lips. “Can we take a break from doing homework?” he asked.
James smiled at him, and Stephen couldn’t help but grin back widely.
iii. maybe she said no
This was it. He was down on one knee. He had the ring open in front of him. Now or never; his last chance to be normal was about to pass him by. “Will you marry me?” he managed to ask, looking into the smiling face of his beautiful girlfriend.
Evie was beautiful. Not only that, but smart and kind and so willing to put up with things she probably shouldn’t have to put up with. She was it. He would marry her and then things would be all right.
“Stephen...” she started, still smiling, though it looked like a sad smile. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Stephen,” she said. “I don’t—I don’t think I can. I don’t think we’re right for each other.”
It was amazing how easy it was to make him feel like his entire world was crashing down around him. He felt warm. He couldn’t breathe. “What—”
“Stephen!” Evie said, voice clearly worried, as she handed him a glass of water. “Drink this! Oh god, I’m sorry, really, but...oh, Stephen, I don’t think I could ever be enough for you. I’m—I’m not really what you want, am I?”
Stephen took the glass weakly, all but collapsing into his chair. “I—what? Of course you are! I love you!”
“I’m sure you do. But...honey, I can’t keep ignoring things, or acting like I don’t notice. I mean, you keep checking out our waiter. Stephen, it’s okay, you know. If that’s what you really want. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”
Stephen swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smiled sadly at him again, standing. Leaning down, she kissed him on the forehead. “I do love you,” she said. “But I can’t marry you. We wouldn’t be happy. I hope you don’t hate me for this.” She straightened. “And I hope you find what you really need, Stephen. You’re a decent guy.” With that, she was gone.
Stephen stared straight ahead, unblinking.
iv. no need to be ashamed
Stephen looked into the mirror. “You’re gay,” he said, and the face staring back at him slowly began to nod.
He waited: now was the part where he felt angry, warm, ashamed, choked up, and all sorts of other emotions that he didn’t want to put a name to and probably never would.
He waited some more. The feelings didn’t come. He felt fine. He felt normal.
“You’re gay,” he repeated. Nothing.
“...I’m gay,” he tried, and while his voice was quiet, all he felt was…relieved.
He looked curiously at his reflection, splashed some water onto his face, and went to bed. His sleep was peaceful.
“I’m gay,” he said again, but this time it was eight hours later and he was in a staff meeting. Everyone went silent for a moment. Allison blinked and nodded. A few of the writers shrugged. One of the interns smiled encouragingly.
The world definitively did not end.
“What’s this crap on page six?” he asked suddenly, shooting an annoyed look around the room. “I sound like a liberal!”
As the table-talk resumed, Stephen allowed himself a small smile.
v. unconditional love
“Mom?” Stephen called, walking in the door. Jon was right behind him, alternating between smiling reassuringly and giving him hopeful looks. “I, uh, have someone for you to meet.”
This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. This idea was so bad only a liberal could have come up with it. His mother would never understand. He needed Jon, needed him to take care of him, but his mom was old-fashioned. She still asked him when he’d be getting married. He needed to turn around immediately, pretend they’d never even come—
“I’m in the living room, honey,” his mother’s voice called.
Too late.
Swallowing, Stephen made his way to the living room. Jon followed, quickly squeezing his shoulder as they walked. “Hey, mom,” he said, smiling at her. She was sitting on the couch, a paperback—he winced—book sitting next to her.
“Stephen, it’s so good that you came to visit,” she said, smiling back at him. “Who is this?”
“This is, um, this is...Jon,” Stephen said. “He’s...he’s my...”
“Oh! I know this one,” she said happily. “Life partner, is that it? Isn’t that the term?”
Stephen stared. Jon giggled, and Stephen shot him a look. “That’s the term, Mrs. Colbert,” Jon said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She smiled at Jon. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Jon.” She gave him a stern look. “You’ll take care of my boy? He’s the youngest, you know. He’s a special one.”
Jon smiled a little more widely. “That he is,” he said. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“Good.” She nodded firmly, looking back at Stephen. “Are you two planning to stay over at all, sweetie?”
“Uh,” Stephen said, eloquently, “sure.” He looked at Jon, totally unsure. Jon just grinned at him, and Stephen shook his head, bewildered.
“Excellent,” she said, standing and indicating he should lean down. He did, and she kissed him on the cheek. “You and Jon can use the guest bedroom. I’m going to go start dinner.” She gave Stephen a small smile. “I love you, dear. You know that, right?”
“I know, Mom,” Stephen said, voice weak. “I love you too.”
He didn’t say thank you, but it seemed to be understood.
Fandom: Fake News (FPF)
Rating: PG
Pairing: OC/”Stephen”; Evie/”Stephen”; Jon/“Stephen”
Summary: A story told in might-have-beens.
Word Count: 1,582
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: Thanks for the beta, Abigail.
Stephen bounded up the walkway to his house; at ten years old, he was bursting with energy. “Guess what, Mom!” he said excitedly, as soon as he was inside the house. “I got an A on my math test!”
“Very good, dear,” his mom replied, smiling at her youngest child. “Make sure you show your father when he gets home.”
“Oh,” said Stephen, looking unsure. “Are you sure? He’ll probably be too tired, or somethin’. I don’t want to bother him.”
“Don’t be silly, Stephen. I’m sure he’d love to see it.”
Stephen spent the next three hours internally debating whether or not he should actually tell his dad about the math test or not. In the end, the decision was taken away from him by one of his many siblings: “What’s this on the fridge?” he asked, as he got out the milk.
His dad looked over to the refrigerator, and at his mom’s look, Stephen said sheepishly, “My math test,” he said. “I got an A.” He looked hopefully at his dad, who was smiling.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
Stephen knew he was a dork. He was sixteen, he’d never been on a date in his life, he liked Lord of the Rings and Dungeons and Dragons, the kids at school reminded him how much of a loser he was on a near-daily basis, and he only had a few close friends. He didn’t want to be a dork, but as far as he figured, there wasn’t much he could do to change it.
Since he was a dork, he wasn’t really good at the whole...crush thing. Sure, he had crushes, but he never really knew how to tell if the person he had a crush on was interested. And considering the nature of his crushes, he really didn’t want to chance being wrong.
This time was different. It seemed like James really liked him; they’d been friends for two years now, and Stephen thought that it was possible he liked him back. It still confused him, the way he could never quite stop staring at the curve of the other boy’s neck when he sat behind him in history class—why did he feel this way? He wasn’t sure it was totally normal.
But maybe...maybe if James felt the same way, maybe it was. It was very hard to focus on homework with all these thoughts running through his head, which was a problem. “Stephen?” called a voice, breaking in on his thoughts.
“Sorry, James.” They were studying together today. “I’m just...distracted.”
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No. Well, sort of. I don’t know.”
James looked confused. “What is it?”
“Have you ever liked someone and not known if they like you too?”
“Well, yeah,” James said. “Everyone has.”
“What if...it’s weird?”
“What’s weird?”
“Who you like.”
“Weird how?”
“Not...” Stephen shook his head. “Never mind.”
“You have to tell me now,” James said. “Not what?”
“Not normal.”
“How can liking someone be not normal? Everyone does it.”
“Trust me, it’s not.”
James looked at him curiously. “Who do you like?”
“You’ll think I’m a freak.”
“No I won’t.”
“It’s...” Stephen stopped, sighing. “It’s...not a girl.” He looked down.
James didn’t say anything for a minute. “...really?” he asked quietly.
Stephen was so surprised that James hadn’t immediately jumped away from him, he couldn’t help but answer honestly. “Yeah. I don’t really like girls. I know I’m supposed to, but—”
“But you just don’t?”
“Yeah,” Stephen said. “How’d you know?”
“I’m the same way,” James said, so quietly it was a whisper.
The two boys looked at each other then, just staring for a few seconds. At the same time, they started leaning in, and the kiss was hesitant and inexperienced. In spite of this, Stephen’s head was swimming, and he couldn’t help but gasp as they broke apart. He licked his lips. “Can we take a break from doing homework?” he asked.
James smiled at him, and Stephen couldn’t help but grin back widely.
This was it. He was down on one knee. He had the ring open in front of him. Now or never; his last chance to be normal was about to pass him by. “Will you marry me?” he managed to ask, looking into the smiling face of his beautiful girlfriend.
Evie was beautiful. Not only that, but smart and kind and so willing to put up with things she probably shouldn’t have to put up with. She was it. He would marry her and then things would be all right.
“Stephen...” she started, still smiling, though it looked like a sad smile. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Stephen,” she said. “I don’t—I don’t think I can. I don’t think we’re right for each other.”
It was amazing how easy it was to make him feel like his entire world was crashing down around him. He felt warm. He couldn’t breathe. “What—”
“Stephen!” Evie said, voice clearly worried, as she handed him a glass of water. “Drink this! Oh god, I’m sorry, really, but...oh, Stephen, I don’t think I could ever be enough for you. I’m—I’m not really what you want, am I?”
Stephen took the glass weakly, all but collapsing into his chair. “I—what? Of course you are! I love you!”
“I’m sure you do. But...honey, I can’t keep ignoring things, or acting like I don’t notice. I mean, you keep checking out our waiter. Stephen, it’s okay, you know. If that’s what you really want. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”
Stephen swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smiled sadly at him again, standing. Leaning down, she kissed him on the forehead. “I do love you,” she said. “But I can’t marry you. We wouldn’t be happy. I hope you don’t hate me for this.” She straightened. “And I hope you find what you really need, Stephen. You’re a decent guy.” With that, she was gone.
Stephen stared straight ahead, unblinking.
Stephen looked into the mirror. “You’re gay,” he said, and the face staring back at him slowly began to nod.
He waited: now was the part where he felt angry, warm, ashamed, choked up, and all sorts of other emotions that he didn’t want to put a name to and probably never would.
He waited some more. The feelings didn’t come. He felt fine. He felt normal.
“You’re gay,” he repeated. Nothing.
“...I’m gay,” he tried, and while his voice was quiet, all he felt was…relieved.
He looked curiously at his reflection, splashed some water onto his face, and went to bed. His sleep was peaceful.
“I’m gay,” he said again, but this time it was eight hours later and he was in a staff meeting. Everyone went silent for a moment. Allison blinked and nodded. A few of the writers shrugged. One of the interns smiled encouragingly.
The world definitively did not end.
“What’s this crap on page six?” he asked suddenly, shooting an annoyed look around the room. “I sound like a liberal!”
As the table-talk resumed, Stephen allowed himself a small smile.
“Mom?” Stephen called, walking in the door. Jon was right behind him, alternating between smiling reassuringly and giving him hopeful looks. “I, uh, have someone for you to meet.”
This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. This idea was so bad only a liberal could have come up with it. His mother would never understand. He needed Jon, needed him to take care of him, but his mom was old-fashioned. She still asked him when he’d be getting married. He needed to turn around immediately, pretend they’d never even come—
“I’m in the living room, honey,” his mother’s voice called.
Too late.
Swallowing, Stephen made his way to the living room. Jon followed, quickly squeezing his shoulder as they walked. “Hey, mom,” he said, smiling at her. She was sitting on the couch, a paperback—he winced—book sitting next to her.
“Stephen, it’s so good that you came to visit,” she said, smiling back at him. “Who is this?”
“This is, um, this is...Jon,” Stephen said. “He’s...he’s my...”
“Oh! I know this one,” she said happily. “Life partner, is that it? Isn’t that the term?”
Stephen stared. Jon giggled, and Stephen shot him a look. “That’s the term, Mrs. Colbert,” Jon said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She smiled at Jon. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Jon.” She gave him a stern look. “You’ll take care of my boy? He’s the youngest, you know. He’s a special one.”
Jon smiled a little more widely. “That he is,” he said. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“Good.” She nodded firmly, looking back at Stephen. “Are you two planning to stay over at all, sweetie?”
“Uh,” Stephen said, eloquently, “sure.” He looked at Jon, totally unsure. Jon just grinned at him, and Stephen shook his head, bewildered.
“Excellent,” she said, standing and indicating he should lean down. He did, and she kissed him on the cheek. “You and Jon can use the guest bedroom. I’m going to go start dinner.” She gave Stephen a small smile. “I love you, dear. You know that, right?”
“I know, Mom,” Stephen said, voice weak. “I love you too.”
He didn’t say thank you, but it seemed to be understood.