Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 09:52 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-03 09:52 pm
Fake News (RPF) | The Way Things Need To Be | PG-13 | Brian/Jon (10/10)
Title: The Way Things Need To Be (10/10)
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: 1,017 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.
You have one new voicemail! his phone announced cheerfully, and Jon sighed as he dialed the number to listen to it. Brian had already left three other voicemails, so he assumed that this would be the same. It wasn’t.
“It’s Stephen, Jon,” it started. “I know you’re pissed and freaked out and being a stubborn ass, but Brian’s worried about you. He’s a good guy, and you deserve what he has to offer. Please give him a chance, because I know you, and I know you’ll end up regretting it if you don’t. Think about it, and give him a call. He wants to hear from you.”
Jon closed his eyes, leaning back on his bed. How had he let this become such a fucking mess?
* * *
Jon almost couldn’t bring himself to knock on Brian’s door, but eventually he worked up the courage. It’d been a week of Sam giving him concerned looks, Jason attempting to make him laugh, Stephen leaving “anonymous” notes to encourage him, Rob and John trying to distract him, and Kristen giving him a hug every time she saw him. His friends were great, and he’d been being a dick.
He swallowed nervously as Brian opened the door. “Hey,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “can we talk?”
Brian nodded, letting him in and they made their way to the living room. He sat on the couch, and Brian sat on the chair, facing him. They stayed that way, the awkward silence reigning for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Eventually, Jon blurted out, “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Brian said. Tentatively, he smiled at him. “I’m really glad you came by,” he added.
“I’m sorry I avoided your calls,” Jon added. “I’m not good at this.” He paused. “Talking about shit, I mean. It’s always been easier to keep it to myself. But this is too important, and I know it. Besides, you deserve to know.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself.
“Jon,” Brian said, placing a hand on his knee. “Stephen told me about Joe.”
Jon involuntarily winced at the name. “He did?”
Brian nodded, moving to sit next to him on the couch. “I understand this is hard for you.”
“I know you do, and it is, but I have to talk about it anyway,” Jon said, looking away. “I—he fucked me up, Brian. I’m sorry. What kind of sub doesn’t want to wear a collar? It’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of bullshit.”
Brian draped an arm around him. “It’s not ridiculous. He was an asshole.”
“Still. You’re not an asshole, and I’ve been a dick to you. I’ve been a dick to everyone.”
“This is why I want you to be able to talk to me,” Brian said seriously, looking him in the eyes. “I want to help you with things like this.”
“I know.” Jon sighed.
“I want you to be mine. I want everyone else to know that you’re mine, and that I’m the one taking care of you. That’s why I want you to wear the collar. If you’re not ready for it, that’s fine; I can wait. But I do eventually want you to wear it. Is that going to be possible?”
Jon looked up at Brian, trying to quash the thought that he was in no way good enough for this man. “I’ll try,” he said, after a long moment. “I want to wear your collar. I can’t promise I’ll be completely comfortable with it, but I want to try.”
“Then I’ll take it. Trying is good.” Brian smiled at him.
They stayed like that on the couch for awhile. There would be time for talking later, but right now, Jon was just glad that Brian was there.
* * *
Jon nervously walked into Stephen’s office. It felt odd, wearing a collar for the first time in almost two decades, but he was more nervous because of the fact that he desperately needed to apologize and it’d been almost two weeks since he’d last spoken to Stephen in person. “Hey, Stephen,” he said, looking sheepish. “I wanted to—”
“It’s okay, Jon,” Stephen said, preempting his apology and grinning at him once he absently started toying with the torque around his neck. “It looks nice, you know,” he added.
Jon smiled at him. “Thanks. I like it.”
“Me too. It matches your hair.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Stephen grinned. “No thanks. I know how possessive Brian gets.”
Jon rolled his eyes, sitting down in the chair across from Stephen. “Thanks, by the way. For helping. When we finally talked about everything, Brian mentioned that you told him.”
“No problem,” Stephen said. “I’m glad things are working out.”
“Me too, Stephen,” Jon said, smiling. “Me too.” He was kidding himself if he thought everything was fixed, but at least it was a start.
* * *
TEN MONTHS LATER
* * *
Brian raised his glass to toast Jon. “To us,” he said, and Jon smiled, clinking his glass against Brian’s. His was beer, Brian’s was sparkling soda—the man didn’t drink, which Jon to this day found amusing—but they were holding wine glasses anyway. It was their first year anniversary, so it called for all special touches.
Things had been good. Tracey and Brian got along, Brian got along with his kids, (no surprise there: “You actually won Father of the Year? What are you, a fairy tale character?” Jon had asked him incredulously, upon learning of the award) and Jon was slowly but surely learning how to share things that he was used to keeping to himself.
“So,” Jon said, after taking a drink from his glass and setting it back down, “what do you have in store for me tonight?”
Brian gave him an evil smirk. “Why don’t you head into the bedroom and see your surprise for yourself?”
Jon swallowed at that look, nodding and standing up. This, he reflected, was what he’d needed for awhile. He was glad that Brian had helped him realize it.
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: 1,017 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.
You have one new voicemail! his phone announced cheerfully, and Jon sighed as he dialed the number to listen to it. Brian had already left three other voicemails, so he assumed that this would be the same. It wasn’t.
“It’s Stephen, Jon,” it started. “I know you’re pissed and freaked out and being a stubborn ass, but Brian’s worried about you. He’s a good guy, and you deserve what he has to offer. Please give him a chance, because I know you, and I know you’ll end up regretting it if you don’t. Think about it, and give him a call. He wants to hear from you.”
Jon closed his eyes, leaning back on his bed. How had he let this become such a fucking mess?
Jon almost couldn’t bring himself to knock on Brian’s door, but eventually he worked up the courage. It’d been a week of Sam giving him concerned looks, Jason attempting to make him laugh, Stephen leaving “anonymous” notes to encourage him, Rob and John trying to distract him, and Kristen giving him a hug every time she saw him. His friends were great, and he’d been being a dick.
He swallowed nervously as Brian opened the door. “Hey,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “can we talk?”
Brian nodded, letting him in and they made their way to the living room. He sat on the couch, and Brian sat on the chair, facing him. They stayed that way, the awkward silence reigning for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Eventually, Jon blurted out, “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Brian said. Tentatively, he smiled at him. “I’m really glad you came by,” he added.
“I’m sorry I avoided your calls,” Jon added. “I’m not good at this.” He paused. “Talking about shit, I mean. It’s always been easier to keep it to myself. But this is too important, and I know it. Besides, you deserve to know.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself.
“Jon,” Brian said, placing a hand on his knee. “Stephen told me about Joe.”
Jon involuntarily winced at the name. “He did?”
Brian nodded, moving to sit next to him on the couch. “I understand this is hard for you.”
“I know you do, and it is, but I have to talk about it anyway,” Jon said, looking away. “I—he fucked me up, Brian. I’m sorry. What kind of sub doesn’t want to wear a collar? It’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of bullshit.”
Brian draped an arm around him. “It’s not ridiculous. He was an asshole.”
“Still. You’re not an asshole, and I’ve been a dick to you. I’ve been a dick to everyone.”
“This is why I want you to be able to talk to me,” Brian said seriously, looking him in the eyes. “I want to help you with things like this.”
“I know.” Jon sighed.
“I want you to be mine. I want everyone else to know that you’re mine, and that I’m the one taking care of you. That’s why I want you to wear the collar. If you’re not ready for it, that’s fine; I can wait. But I do eventually want you to wear it. Is that going to be possible?”
Jon looked up at Brian, trying to quash the thought that he was in no way good enough for this man. “I’ll try,” he said, after a long moment. “I want to wear your collar. I can’t promise I’ll be completely comfortable with it, but I want to try.”
“Then I’ll take it. Trying is good.” Brian smiled at him.
They stayed like that on the couch for awhile. There would be time for talking later, but right now, Jon was just glad that Brian was there.
Jon nervously walked into Stephen’s office. It felt odd, wearing a collar for the first time in almost two decades, but he was more nervous because of the fact that he desperately needed to apologize and it’d been almost two weeks since he’d last spoken to Stephen in person. “Hey, Stephen,” he said, looking sheepish. “I wanted to—”
“It’s okay, Jon,” Stephen said, preempting his apology and grinning at him once he absently started toying with the torque around his neck. “It looks nice, you know,” he added.
Jon smiled at him. “Thanks. I like it.”
“Me too. It matches your hair.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Stephen grinned. “No thanks. I know how possessive Brian gets.”
Jon rolled his eyes, sitting down in the chair across from Stephen. “Thanks, by the way. For helping. When we finally talked about everything, Brian mentioned that you told him.”
“No problem,” Stephen said. “I’m glad things are working out.”
“Me too, Stephen,” Jon said, smiling. “Me too.” He was kidding himself if he thought everything was fixed, but at least it was a start.
TEN MONTHS LATER
* * *
Brian raised his glass to toast Jon. “To us,” he said, and Jon smiled, clinking his glass against Brian’s. His was beer, Brian’s was sparkling soda—the man didn’t drink, which Jon to this day found amusing—but they were holding wine glasses anyway. It was their first year anniversary, so it called for all special touches.
Things had been good. Tracey and Brian got along, Brian got along with his kids, (no surprise there: “You actually won Father of the Year? What are you, a fairy tale character?” Jon had asked him incredulously, upon learning of the award) and Jon was slowly but surely learning how to share things that he was used to keeping to himself.
“So,” Jon said, after taking a drink from his glass and setting it back down, “what do you have in store for me tonight?”
Brian gave him an evil smirk. “Why don’t you head into the bedroom and see your surprise for yourself?”
Jon swallowed at that look, nodding and standing up. This, he reflected, was what he’d needed for awhile. He was glad that Brian had helped him realize it.
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