Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 09:14 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 09:14 pm
Fake News (RPF) | The Way Things Need To Be | PG-13 | Brian/Jon (8/10)
Title: The Way Things Need To Be (8/10)
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: 1,563 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.
George was always a fun interview, and Jon stopped by the green room after the taping was over—he was still there, which wasn’t a surprise. George generally hung out for a little while afterwards to shoot the shit, which had always endeared him to Jon. For being a ridiculously famous movie star, the man had always been down to earth and easy to talk to.
“Thanks again,” Jon said as he walked in the door.
“Thank you for having me,” George replied, standing up. He gave Jon a devastating smile. “How much longer do you have to be here? I thought we might be able to go get some drinks.”
Jon considered it. It’d probably be fun. “That sounds good. I just have to make a call first.”
“Tracey?” George guessed.
Jon shook his head. “No, she and I split over four months ago.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” George said, but something in his eyes had changed. “Would it make me sound like a complete ass if I revised that invitation for drinks to an invitation for dinner?” Jon actually managed to recognize the smile that followed that question as flirtatious. The way George had subtly moved just into his personal space had helped.
Jon flushed. “Did you just...ask me out?” he asked, wanting to be sure. The idea seemed ludicrous to him. Maybe he was imagining things.
“I did,” George said, amused, and damn, those eyes. Jon swallowed.
“I’m tempted,” he admitted, because he was. It was George fucking Clooney; who wouldn’t be? “But I’m seeing someone. It’s pretty serious.”
George only let his disappointment show for a few seconds. “That’s good news,” he said gracefully. “Can I ask who?”
“Me.”
The recognizably firm voice coming from the doorway made Jon flush guiltily as he looked up. Brian had his arms crossed and was looking back and forth of them. Belatedly realizing they were still standing fairly close, Jon took a step back. “George, this is Brian,” he said.
George nodded at him. “Nice to meet you.”
Brian nodded back. “Likewise,” he said, walking into the room. He wrapped an arm around Jon’s waist. “Are you ready to go, Jon?”
“I guess that’s my cue to exit,” George said, smiling just the tiniest bit sadly at Jon. “I guess I’ll see you around, Jon. Bye, Brian.” He left.
“He asked me out,” Jon said, and couldn’t help smirking when Brian’s arm tightened around him.
“I figured he would,” Brian replied. “He’s wanted you for years.”
Jon blinked. “He has not.”
“Yes he has. Trust me.”
“That’s why you wanted to know when he’d be here? So you could show up and claim me?”
“You have to admit it was pretty effective.”
“I guess,” Jon said. “It wasn’t necessary, though.”
“Sure it was. You’re mine. And now he knows that.”
“I told him that.”
“Just the same.” Brian looked at him critically. “Are you attracted to him?”
Jon gave Brian a look. “He’s George Clooney, Brian. Of course I’m attracted to him.” At Brian’s frown he added, “But I’m yours, and you know it. More importantly, I know it.”
“Good.” Brian’s tone promised that this wouldn’t be the end of this, and Jon shivered. Making Brian jealous seemed like it might have a few perks.
* * *
Jon yawned as he walked down the hallway to his office, nearly running into Sam by accident. “Sorry,” he told her. “I’m a little tired.”
Her eyes went to the fresh mark on his neck. “Long weekend?” she guessed, smirking.
“George asked me out after the taping on Thursday,” Jon said.
She snickered. “Brian found out?”
“He kind of interrupted it.”
“He strikes me as the possessive sort,” she replied, amused.
“That’s probably because he is,” Jon said, and smirked as Jason walked up. “Good to see you’re not longer so attached to your desk, Jason.”
“No one is ever going to let that go,” he predicted.
“Of course not,” Sam said. “Why do you think I decided to do it?”
“Because you’re evil?”
“An evil genius,” she corrected. “Jon here had a long weekend, thanks to George.”
“The flirting got to Brian?” Jason asked, chuckling.
“By all means, Sam, spread that around,” Jon said, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, at least you weren’t publicly handcuffed to furniture,” Jason said.
“What did he do to you?” Sam asked.
Jon turned red. “I am not sharing that with you.”
“His wrists look a little red,” Jason said to Sam.
“Cuffed to the bed?”
“Probably.”
“But his voice isn’t hoarse.”
“Gagged.”
“Oooh.” Sam grinned at Jon. “Are we close?”
Jon just stared at them. “I’m going into my office now,” he said. Sam and Jason smirked at him unrepentantly as he walked away.
* * *
“I’m trying to avoid Sam and Jason,” Jon said to Kristen, explaining his surreptitious glance into the break room. She’d given him an odd look.
She laughed. “Why?”
“They’re trying to get me to tell them details about...yeah,” Jon said, turning red. “So I’m trying to avoid them.”
Kristen smirked at him. “Sounds like a wise idea,” she said.
“I thought so,” he said, smiling. “How have you been?” he asked, a little more seriously.
She sighed. “Better, I guess?” She shook her head. “My parents are talking to me again, at least, so I haven’t been disowned.” She paused. “Well, my mom’s talking to me, anyway. My dad is only acknowledging me through head gestures.”
“At least that’s something?” Jon tried.
She shrugged. “It is. They still think I’m going through a phase, but I don’t think they completely hate Demetri, so maybe there’s hope.”
“Is it possible to hate Demetri?” Jon asked curiously.
Kristen laughed. “No, probably not.” She smiled wistfully. “I really wish this were easy.”
“I don’t think anyone can blame you for that, Kristen. Wishing things were easy is hardly unusual.”
“I’m sure some people can blame me. They probably think I’m doing this to myself.”
“They’re full of shit, then,” Jon said. “It’ll get better. It’ll just take time.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks,” she said. “The encouragement helps.”
“It’s why I’m here.”
* * *
Jon opened one of Brian’s dresser drawers, intending to pull out one of the shirts that he had left at his place. After a couple seconds of careful digging, he realized he’d opened the wrong drawer and was about to shut it when he noticed a black jewelry case partially covered by clothing. Curiosity piqued, he gave one furtive glance to the door—Brian was still busy in the kitchen making dinner—before carefully taking the case from the drawer.
It was exactly the right size. Jon knew what it was before he opened it, but he did so anyway; sure enough, contrasted against black velvet, laid a beautiful white gold torque. It was exquisite, and with his hands suddenly shaking so badly it was all Jon could do to keep from dropping it as he closed the case and put it back in Brian’s drawer.
He should’ve listened to Stephen. He should’ve told Brian everything about Joe. He could still hear the asshole in his mind sometimes, still see the way his eyes, cold, dark, and cruel, glittered as he taunted him, saying, You haven’t earned it tonight, or You’re not worthy. He remembered the way he laughed mockingly every time he’d forced Jon to return the collar, giving it and taking it back like a cat with a mouse, playing with his prey before the kill.
And now Brian was getting ready to move to the next stage, the next logical stage, and all Jon could think was, What if I’m not worth it?
* * *
Jon pushed the food around his plate, staring at it but not really seeing it. Brian was an excellent cook, and he was sure it was delicious, but he just couldn’t bring himself to eat.
“What’s wrong, Jon?” Brian asked. “You’ve hardly said a word since we started eating. And I use the word ‘eating’ loosely.”
He chanced a quick glance up before shaking his head and staring studiously at his plate.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “I’m just not that hungry.”
“An hour ago you said you were starving.”
“I guess I changed my mind.”
“Something’s the matter.”
Jon forced himself to look at Brian again. “Nothing’s the matter,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “I’m just not as hungry as I thought. That’s all.”
“I really wish you’d tell me,” Brian said.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Brian sighed, giving Jon a disappointed look. “If there ever is something to tell, you know you can talk to me, right? I want to know.”
“I know,” Jon said. He did know that. Some things were still difficult to bring up, though, especially for someone who was used to not talking about them with anyone except maybe Stephen. “But it’s nothing. I’m just in a mood, or something. It’ll pass, I’m sure.”
Brian looked at him critically, skeptically. “All right,” he said eventually, even though it was clear in his tone that he didn’t believe Jon, “if you say so. I won’t push it.”
Jon wasn’t entirely sure, but it sounded like there was an unspoken right now added to the end of that sentence. He smiled weakly at Brian and forced himself to take a bite of his dinner.
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: 1,563 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.
George was always a fun interview, and Jon stopped by the green room after the taping was over—he was still there, which wasn’t a surprise. George generally hung out for a little while afterwards to shoot the shit, which had always endeared him to Jon. For being a ridiculously famous movie star, the man had always been down to earth and easy to talk to.
“Thanks again,” Jon said as he walked in the door.
“Thank you for having me,” George replied, standing up. He gave Jon a devastating smile. “How much longer do you have to be here? I thought we might be able to go get some drinks.”
Jon considered it. It’d probably be fun. “That sounds good. I just have to make a call first.”
“Tracey?” George guessed.
Jon shook his head. “No, she and I split over four months ago.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” George said, but something in his eyes had changed. “Would it make me sound like a complete ass if I revised that invitation for drinks to an invitation for dinner?” Jon actually managed to recognize the smile that followed that question as flirtatious. The way George had subtly moved just into his personal space had helped.
Jon flushed. “Did you just...ask me out?” he asked, wanting to be sure. The idea seemed ludicrous to him. Maybe he was imagining things.
“I did,” George said, amused, and damn, those eyes. Jon swallowed.
“I’m tempted,” he admitted, because he was. It was George fucking Clooney; who wouldn’t be? “But I’m seeing someone. It’s pretty serious.”
George only let his disappointment show for a few seconds. “That’s good news,” he said gracefully. “Can I ask who?”
“Me.”
The recognizably firm voice coming from the doorway made Jon flush guiltily as he looked up. Brian had his arms crossed and was looking back and forth of them. Belatedly realizing they were still standing fairly close, Jon took a step back. “George, this is Brian,” he said.
George nodded at him. “Nice to meet you.”
Brian nodded back. “Likewise,” he said, walking into the room. He wrapped an arm around Jon’s waist. “Are you ready to go, Jon?”
“I guess that’s my cue to exit,” George said, smiling just the tiniest bit sadly at Jon. “I guess I’ll see you around, Jon. Bye, Brian.” He left.
“He asked me out,” Jon said, and couldn’t help smirking when Brian’s arm tightened around him.
“I figured he would,” Brian replied. “He’s wanted you for years.”
Jon blinked. “He has not.”
“Yes he has. Trust me.”
“That’s why you wanted to know when he’d be here? So you could show up and claim me?”
“You have to admit it was pretty effective.”
“I guess,” Jon said. “It wasn’t necessary, though.”
“Sure it was. You’re mine. And now he knows that.”
“I told him that.”
“Just the same.” Brian looked at him critically. “Are you attracted to him?”
Jon gave Brian a look. “He’s George Clooney, Brian. Of course I’m attracted to him.” At Brian’s frown he added, “But I’m yours, and you know it. More importantly, I know it.”
“Good.” Brian’s tone promised that this wouldn’t be the end of this, and Jon shivered. Making Brian jealous seemed like it might have a few perks.
Jon yawned as he walked down the hallway to his office, nearly running into Sam by accident. “Sorry,” he told her. “I’m a little tired.”
Her eyes went to the fresh mark on his neck. “Long weekend?” she guessed, smirking.
“George asked me out after the taping on Thursday,” Jon said.
She snickered. “Brian found out?”
“He kind of interrupted it.”
“He strikes me as the possessive sort,” she replied, amused.
“That’s probably because he is,” Jon said, and smirked as Jason walked up. “Good to see you’re not longer so attached to your desk, Jason.”
“No one is ever going to let that go,” he predicted.
“Of course not,” Sam said. “Why do you think I decided to do it?”
“Because you’re evil?”
“An evil genius,” she corrected. “Jon here had a long weekend, thanks to George.”
“The flirting got to Brian?” Jason asked, chuckling.
“By all means, Sam, spread that around,” Jon said, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, at least you weren’t publicly handcuffed to furniture,” Jason said.
“What did he do to you?” Sam asked.
Jon turned red. “I am not sharing that with you.”
“His wrists look a little red,” Jason said to Sam.
“Cuffed to the bed?”
“Probably.”
“But his voice isn’t hoarse.”
“Gagged.”
“Oooh.” Sam grinned at Jon. “Are we close?”
Jon just stared at them. “I’m going into my office now,” he said. Sam and Jason smirked at him unrepentantly as he walked away.
“I’m trying to avoid Sam and Jason,” Jon said to Kristen, explaining his surreptitious glance into the break room. She’d given him an odd look.
She laughed. “Why?”
“They’re trying to get me to tell them details about...yeah,” Jon said, turning red. “So I’m trying to avoid them.”
Kristen smirked at him. “Sounds like a wise idea,” she said.
“I thought so,” he said, smiling. “How have you been?” he asked, a little more seriously.
She sighed. “Better, I guess?” She shook her head. “My parents are talking to me again, at least, so I haven’t been disowned.” She paused. “Well, my mom’s talking to me, anyway. My dad is only acknowledging me through head gestures.”
“At least that’s something?” Jon tried.
She shrugged. “It is. They still think I’m going through a phase, but I don’t think they completely hate Demetri, so maybe there’s hope.”
“Is it possible to hate Demetri?” Jon asked curiously.
Kristen laughed. “No, probably not.” She smiled wistfully. “I really wish this were easy.”
“I don’t think anyone can blame you for that, Kristen. Wishing things were easy is hardly unusual.”
“I’m sure some people can blame me. They probably think I’m doing this to myself.”
“They’re full of shit, then,” Jon said. “It’ll get better. It’ll just take time.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks,” she said. “The encouragement helps.”
“It’s why I’m here.”
Jon opened one of Brian’s dresser drawers, intending to pull out one of the shirts that he had left at his place. After a couple seconds of careful digging, he realized he’d opened the wrong drawer and was about to shut it when he noticed a black jewelry case partially covered by clothing. Curiosity piqued, he gave one furtive glance to the door—Brian was still busy in the kitchen making dinner—before carefully taking the case from the drawer.
It was exactly the right size. Jon knew what it was before he opened it, but he did so anyway; sure enough, contrasted against black velvet, laid a beautiful white gold torque. It was exquisite, and with his hands suddenly shaking so badly it was all Jon could do to keep from dropping it as he closed the case and put it back in Brian’s drawer.
He should’ve listened to Stephen. He should’ve told Brian everything about Joe. He could still hear the asshole in his mind sometimes, still see the way his eyes, cold, dark, and cruel, glittered as he taunted him, saying, You haven’t earned it tonight, or You’re not worthy. He remembered the way he laughed mockingly every time he’d forced Jon to return the collar, giving it and taking it back like a cat with a mouse, playing with his prey before the kill.
And now Brian was getting ready to move to the next stage, the next logical stage, and all Jon could think was, What if I’m not worth it?
Jon pushed the food around his plate, staring at it but not really seeing it. Brian was an excellent cook, and he was sure it was delicious, but he just couldn’t bring himself to eat.
“What’s wrong, Jon?” Brian asked. “You’ve hardly said a word since we started eating. And I use the word ‘eating’ loosely.”
He chanced a quick glance up before shaking his head and staring studiously at his plate.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “I’m just not that hungry.”
“An hour ago you said you were starving.”
“I guess I changed my mind.”
“Something’s the matter.”
Jon forced himself to look at Brian again. “Nothing’s the matter,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “I’m just not as hungry as I thought. That’s all.”
“I really wish you’d tell me,” Brian said.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Brian sighed, giving Jon a disappointed look. “If there ever is something to tell, you know you can talk to me, right? I want to know.”
“I know,” Jon said. He did know that. Some things were still difficult to bring up, though, especially for someone who was used to not talking about them with anyone except maybe Stephen. “But it’s nothing. I’m just in a mood, or something. It’ll pass, I’m sure.”
Brian looked at him critically, skeptically. “All right,” he said eventually, even though it was clear in his tone that he didn’t believe Jon, “if you say so. I won’t push it.”
Jon wasn’t entirely sure, but it sounded like there was an unspoken right now added to the end of that sentence. He smiled weakly at Brian and forced himself to take a bite of his dinner.