Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-04 03:16 am
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-04 03:16 am
Fake News (RPF) | Four Times George Tried To Be Subtle | PG-13 | Jon/George
Title: Four Times George Tried To Be Subtle (And One Time He Didn’t Bother)
Fandom: Fake News (RPF)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jon/George
Summary: Subtlety doesn’t exactly work when you’re trying to date Jon Stewart.
Word Count: 2,010
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.
one.
Jon walked into the green room, his thoughts entirely consisting of those pesky self-pitying ones that usually plagued him whenever this particular guest visited.
George Clooney was relaxing on the couch, absorbed in a newspaper. He looked at ease, confident, and, of course, sexy as all hell. He’s older than me, Jon thought. Why can’t I look like that? Handsome bastard.
It was then that George looked up, shooting him that smug-yet-lovable, ice-meltingly-sexy grin that tended to make grown men go weak at the knees and start to deeply question their sexuality. Jon, therefore, was powerless against it; he couldn’t help but give up on his self-deprecating thoughts and smile back. “Jon,” George said warmly, eyes sparkling. “Miss me?”
“Always, baby,” he replied, smile curving into a smirk. “Always.”
“That’s good to hear,” George said, standing up and shaking his hand. He always leaned in, then, squeezing Jon’s shoulder in an affectionate-yet-manly gesture that still affected Jon in a way that made him wonder if he was secretly turning into a teenage girl.
“You know you’re loved around here.”
George grinned at him again. “I hope you’re president of my fanclub.”
“Of course,” Jon said, smirking. “You should see my office. Wall-to-wall pictures of you. It’s your eyes—they get to me. So dreamy.”
George chuckled, a warm, rich sound that never failed to make Jon feel giggly and then mentally berate himself for being an idiot. Get a fucking grip, Stewart, he thought. You’re acting like a fangirl.
“I always knew you had a mancrush on me.”
“Who doesn’t? You’re George fucking Clooney.”
George just tossed him another one of those we-both-know-you-want-me grins, saying, “You know what? We should—“
He was interrupted by an assistant half-knocking on the door and informing Jon that it was time for rehearsal. Jon nodded, then turned back to George. “Ah, sorry—I have to go. We’ll finish this conversation later?”
George nodded. “Of course.”
They never did get a chance to finish that conversation, which left Jon wondering what George had been about to ask.
two.
George was well aware of the knowing looks that Stephen had been shooting him all evening. He, Jon, and Stephen were all out for drinks—George had invited Jon out, and Jon, clearly oblivious to his intentions, asked Stephen along as well. He didn’t mind, really; Stephen was great company, if just a little too damn shrewd for his own good. Every time George leaned in to Jon to tell him something, touched him when it wasn’t strictly necessary, or smiled at him a bit too long, he saw Stephen watching him, his gaze saying, I know what you’re up to.
“I’ll be right back,” Jon said suddenly, downing the last of his drink. “Nature calls.”
“Thank you for announcing to us that you have to take a piss,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes. Jon just flipped him off easily, heading to the bathroom.
George studiously stared into his drink before taking a sip. When he looked up, Stephen was smirking at him. “You are so fucking obvious, Clooney,” he said.
“Evidently, not obvious enough for Jon,” George replied. “Unless he’s just not interested.”
Stephen snorted. “He’s interested. He’s just oblivious. I love Jon, but subtle isn’t really the way to go with him. He’s too self-deprecating. Think more along the lines of a sandwich sign, maybe a siren, and possibly some flashing lights.”
“Thanks for the tip,” said George, amused.
“I do what I can,” Stephen said. “If Jon’s going to have a torrid, gay love affair, it should definitely be with you instead of Cooper. There’s no danger of an irate Keith Olbermann kicking his ass then.”
George laughed, and shortly thereafter Jon returned to the table. “Did you two miss me?”
“I didn’t, but Clooney was starting to get pathetic over here,” Stephen said.
George smirked. “It’s true, Jon. You can’t leave me like that.”
“You movie star types,” Jon said, shaking his head. “So needy.”
“That’s us,” George agreed, draping an arm around Jon’s shoulders and squeezing briefly. “It’s part of why you adore me, though, admit it.”
Jon, who had turned red, replied, “How can I resist? You’re just so charming.”
George left his arm around Jon the rest of the evening, since the shorter man didn’t seem to mind. When Jon didn’t mention it at all afterward, even when they were alone together after Stephen had taken off, George started to believe that Stephen was probably right.
three.
Stephen was amused. There was nothing like being able to make fun of the media and still get invited to their parties, but that wasn’t what was amusing him at the current moment. No, this amusement came from another source entirely: Jon.
Jon’s obliviousness, to be specific. Anderson had started flirting with him the moment they’d walked in, and then when George had shown up unexpectedly—Stephen had had a sneaking suspicion that he would—things got interesting. There was something just funny about watching George Clooney and Anderson Cooper competing for Jon’s attention, especially since Jon himself had no fucking idea that they were doing it.
“Is your friend really that dense?” asked a voice from behind him. Stephen turned just in time to see Keith Olbermann shoot a sour look over at George, Jon, and Anderson.
Stephen nodded. “He’s every bit that dense,” he confirmed. “I wouldn’t worry. He’s not interested in Anderson.”
Keith gave Stephen a blank look, and had he not undercut it by darting a quick glance back at Anderson, Stephen might’ve believed it. “What the hell do I care?”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Jon’s dense, but at least he’s not being a fucking coward.”
Keith rolled his eyes right back. “Anyone ever told you that people don’t like know-it-alls?”
“Nonsense. Who doesn’t like me?” Stephen asked sweetly.
Just then, George walked over. He nodded at Keith and Stephen, pouring himself a drink.
“I’m surprised you let Anderson alone with him,” Stephen said, amused.
“I don’t think there’s any danger. You’re right—Jon’s pretty oblivious.”
“Like I said. Sirens. Flashing lights. You’ve got money—chop, chop. Get to it.”
George shook his head. “I’m seriously considering it at this point.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Keith said abruptly, and walked over to where Jon and Anderson were talking. Stephen watched, amused, as he started talking to Anderson.
“There. Olbermann finally worked up the balls to talk to Cooper. Jon’s all yours. Don’t forget—loud sirens.”
George chuckled to himself, and Stephen took another drink as he watched him walk back over to Jon. Oh yeah. This was definitely prime entertainment.
four.
They were finally out for drinks alone. George considered that some sort of minor miracle, or possibly just the machinations of a certain matchmaking, wonky-eared comedian. He’d have to remember to send Stephen some sort of thank-you gift, but what really fit that gesture? Not a lot of cards or gift baskets really came out and said, “Thank you for helping to set me up with your ridiculously oblivious friend.”
“I don’t think I’ve been to this place before,” Jon said. “It’s nice.”
George nodded in agreement. “One of my favorites. I try to share it with all of my,” he paused, thinking, dates, “friends.”
“Aw, and here I was thinking I was special,” Jon joked, taking a drink.
“You’re very special, Jon,” George said, smirking at him and feeling triumphant when he saw Jon blush the slightest bit and duck his head. It really wasn’t right that one man had the ability to be so goddamn adorable.
“I bet you say that to all the guys,” Jon returned. “Just so you can have your way with them later.”
“Actually,” George started, grinning, “There’s only—”
He was interrupted: “Oh my god.”
The tone was incredulous and a little high-pitched; both George and Jon glanced over to see two young women looking a little like they were about to fall over. “We’re so, so sorry for interrupting you,” said one.
“But we just had to come over,” finished the other.
“We’re huge fans.”
“Can we please have your autographs?”
George and Jon pleasantly acquiesced, chatting politely with the two girls for a few minutes. They apologized several more times during the course of that conversation before leaving.
Fans were great, George knew, but wow if they couldn’t have rotten timing sometimes.
five.
At some point, things had gone incredibly, wildly right.
Jon thought this vaguely, because most of what was going through his mind was incredibly fuzzy. It wasn’t his fault—it was the fault of the man currently pressing him roughly against the brick outside his studio, kissing him soundly.
The plan had been to go out for drinks, but something had clearly changed along the way. He wasn’t quite sure what, but that much was obvious. They’d run into Stephen; Stephen and George had exchanged a series of cryptic looks, and the next thing he knew, he was being pushed forcefully against his studio and kissed to within an inch of his life. Why this was happening, he had no idea, but he had to acknowledge that he really didn’t give a flying fuck as long as it never stopped.
Jon groaned into the kiss, threading his fingers through George’s hair and pulling him closer, gasping when he pressed a leg between Jon’s thighs. When they broke apart to breathe, Jon’s thoughts were swimming. He barely managed to ask, “What—”
“Got tired of waiting,” George told him, eyes sparkling like usual, but this time Jon could see the desire behind it. “I’ve been trying to ask you out for the past month.”
Jon tried to make sense of this, and couldn’t, but he wasn’t entirely sure if that was because he honestly didn’t understand or because he was currently being pinned to a building by George fucking Clooney. Licking his lips, he gave up on trying to think and crushed his mouth against George’s again for another intense kiss.
When they broke apart this time, Jon rested his forehead against George’s, and asked breathlessly, “You couldn’t have just done this in the first place?”
Their proximity meant Jon felt as well as heard George’s deep chuckle. “I was trying to be a gentleman,” he murmured into Jon’s ear, dropping a kiss right below it. Jon shivered, and George apparently noticed. “Cold?” he teased.
“Smug bastard,” Jon muttered. “You know what you do to me.”
“That’s not true,” George said, smirking. “Although, I do know what I want to do to you. Is that close enough?”
Jon held George’s smoldering gaze for a minute, his insides doing various acrobatic stunts and his cock getting more impatient. “So you want me,” he finally said.
“Hey, Stephen was wrong. It didn’t take any sirens or flashing lights.”
Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Stephen knows?”
George laughed, kissing him again. “Jon, everyone knows.”
Jon blinked. “And I’m the only one who didn’t?”
George nodded. “I told you it was believable,” he said, grinning at him. “But I’ve since learned that subtlety doesn’t really work well on you.”
Jon didn’t have a suitable response to that, so he kissed George again—passionately. “Sorry,” he eventually murmured, after they broke apart again. “That I didn’t notice, I mean. I’ve never been good at this sort of thing.”
“Not a problem, Jon,” George said. “Not being subtle is a lot more fun anyway.”
Jon grinned. “That’s true. So why are we still standing here?”
“Good question,” George said, voice low enough to be a growl. “Let’s go. I say we skip the drinks.”
Jon shivered at the tone, slightly disappointed when George pulled away and he was no longer pinned to the building. As they headed to hail a cab, Jon fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly at George, saying in a high-pitched tone, “I just love it when a guy is so direct.”
Then again, Jon thought, when George shot him that brain-melting grin backed up by a gaze so hot it’d put the sun to shame, subtlety had its advantages too.
Fandom: Fake News (RPF)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jon/George
Summary: Subtlety doesn’t exactly work when you’re trying to date Jon Stewart.
Word Count: 2,010
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.
one.
Jon walked into the green room, his thoughts entirely consisting of those pesky self-pitying ones that usually plagued him whenever this particular guest visited.
George Clooney was relaxing on the couch, absorbed in a newspaper. He looked at ease, confident, and, of course, sexy as all hell. He’s older than me, Jon thought. Why can’t I look like that? Handsome bastard.
It was then that George looked up, shooting him that smug-yet-lovable, ice-meltingly-sexy grin that tended to make grown men go weak at the knees and start to deeply question their sexuality. Jon, therefore, was powerless against it; he couldn’t help but give up on his self-deprecating thoughts and smile back. “Jon,” George said warmly, eyes sparkling. “Miss me?”
“Always, baby,” he replied, smile curving into a smirk. “Always.”
“That’s good to hear,” George said, standing up and shaking his hand. He always leaned in, then, squeezing Jon’s shoulder in an affectionate-yet-manly gesture that still affected Jon in a way that made him wonder if he was secretly turning into a teenage girl.
“You know you’re loved around here.”
George grinned at him again. “I hope you’re president of my fanclub.”
“Of course,” Jon said, smirking. “You should see my office. Wall-to-wall pictures of you. It’s your eyes—they get to me. So dreamy.”
George chuckled, a warm, rich sound that never failed to make Jon feel giggly and then mentally berate himself for being an idiot. Get a fucking grip, Stewart, he thought. You’re acting like a fangirl.
“I always knew you had a mancrush on me.”
“Who doesn’t? You’re George fucking Clooney.”
George just tossed him another one of those we-both-know-you-want-me grins, saying, “You know what? We should—“
He was interrupted by an assistant half-knocking on the door and informing Jon that it was time for rehearsal. Jon nodded, then turned back to George. “Ah, sorry—I have to go. We’ll finish this conversation later?”
George nodded. “Of course.”
They never did get a chance to finish that conversation, which left Jon wondering what George had been about to ask.
two.
George was well aware of the knowing looks that Stephen had been shooting him all evening. He, Jon, and Stephen were all out for drinks—George had invited Jon out, and Jon, clearly oblivious to his intentions, asked Stephen along as well. He didn’t mind, really; Stephen was great company, if just a little too damn shrewd for his own good. Every time George leaned in to Jon to tell him something, touched him when it wasn’t strictly necessary, or smiled at him a bit too long, he saw Stephen watching him, his gaze saying, I know what you’re up to.
“I’ll be right back,” Jon said suddenly, downing the last of his drink. “Nature calls.”
“Thank you for announcing to us that you have to take a piss,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes. Jon just flipped him off easily, heading to the bathroom.
George studiously stared into his drink before taking a sip. When he looked up, Stephen was smirking at him. “You are so fucking obvious, Clooney,” he said.
“Evidently, not obvious enough for Jon,” George replied. “Unless he’s just not interested.”
Stephen snorted. “He’s interested. He’s just oblivious. I love Jon, but subtle isn’t really the way to go with him. He’s too self-deprecating. Think more along the lines of a sandwich sign, maybe a siren, and possibly some flashing lights.”
“Thanks for the tip,” said George, amused.
“I do what I can,” Stephen said. “If Jon’s going to have a torrid, gay love affair, it should definitely be with you instead of Cooper. There’s no danger of an irate Keith Olbermann kicking his ass then.”
George laughed, and shortly thereafter Jon returned to the table. “Did you two miss me?”
“I didn’t, but Clooney was starting to get pathetic over here,” Stephen said.
George smirked. “It’s true, Jon. You can’t leave me like that.”
“You movie star types,” Jon said, shaking his head. “So needy.”
“That’s us,” George agreed, draping an arm around Jon’s shoulders and squeezing briefly. “It’s part of why you adore me, though, admit it.”
Jon, who had turned red, replied, “How can I resist? You’re just so charming.”
George left his arm around Jon the rest of the evening, since the shorter man didn’t seem to mind. When Jon didn’t mention it at all afterward, even when they were alone together after Stephen had taken off, George started to believe that Stephen was probably right.
three.
Stephen was amused. There was nothing like being able to make fun of the media and still get invited to their parties, but that wasn’t what was amusing him at the current moment. No, this amusement came from another source entirely: Jon.
Jon’s obliviousness, to be specific. Anderson had started flirting with him the moment they’d walked in, and then when George had shown up unexpectedly—Stephen had had a sneaking suspicion that he would—things got interesting. There was something just funny about watching George Clooney and Anderson Cooper competing for Jon’s attention, especially since Jon himself had no fucking idea that they were doing it.
“Is your friend really that dense?” asked a voice from behind him. Stephen turned just in time to see Keith Olbermann shoot a sour look over at George, Jon, and Anderson.
Stephen nodded. “He’s every bit that dense,” he confirmed. “I wouldn’t worry. He’s not interested in Anderson.”
Keith gave Stephen a blank look, and had he not undercut it by darting a quick glance back at Anderson, Stephen might’ve believed it. “What the hell do I care?”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Jon’s dense, but at least he’s not being a fucking coward.”
Keith rolled his eyes right back. “Anyone ever told you that people don’t like know-it-alls?”
“Nonsense. Who doesn’t like me?” Stephen asked sweetly.
Just then, George walked over. He nodded at Keith and Stephen, pouring himself a drink.
“I’m surprised you let Anderson alone with him,” Stephen said, amused.
“I don’t think there’s any danger. You’re right—Jon’s pretty oblivious.”
“Like I said. Sirens. Flashing lights. You’ve got money—chop, chop. Get to it.”
George shook his head. “I’m seriously considering it at this point.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Keith said abruptly, and walked over to where Jon and Anderson were talking. Stephen watched, amused, as he started talking to Anderson.
“There. Olbermann finally worked up the balls to talk to Cooper. Jon’s all yours. Don’t forget—loud sirens.”
George chuckled to himself, and Stephen took another drink as he watched him walk back over to Jon. Oh yeah. This was definitely prime entertainment.
four.
They were finally out for drinks alone. George considered that some sort of minor miracle, or possibly just the machinations of a certain matchmaking, wonky-eared comedian. He’d have to remember to send Stephen some sort of thank-you gift, but what really fit that gesture? Not a lot of cards or gift baskets really came out and said, “Thank you for helping to set me up with your ridiculously oblivious friend.”
“I don’t think I’ve been to this place before,” Jon said. “It’s nice.”
George nodded in agreement. “One of my favorites. I try to share it with all of my,” he paused, thinking, dates, “friends.”
“Aw, and here I was thinking I was special,” Jon joked, taking a drink.
“You’re very special, Jon,” George said, smirking at him and feeling triumphant when he saw Jon blush the slightest bit and duck his head. It really wasn’t right that one man had the ability to be so goddamn adorable.
“I bet you say that to all the guys,” Jon returned. “Just so you can have your way with them later.”
“Actually,” George started, grinning, “There’s only—”
He was interrupted: “Oh my god.”
The tone was incredulous and a little high-pitched; both George and Jon glanced over to see two young women looking a little like they were about to fall over. “We’re so, so sorry for interrupting you,” said one.
“But we just had to come over,” finished the other.
“We’re huge fans.”
“Can we please have your autographs?”
George and Jon pleasantly acquiesced, chatting politely with the two girls for a few minutes. They apologized several more times during the course of that conversation before leaving.
Fans were great, George knew, but wow if they couldn’t have rotten timing sometimes.
five.
At some point, things had gone incredibly, wildly right.
Jon thought this vaguely, because most of what was going through his mind was incredibly fuzzy. It wasn’t his fault—it was the fault of the man currently pressing him roughly against the brick outside his studio, kissing him soundly.
The plan had been to go out for drinks, but something had clearly changed along the way. He wasn’t quite sure what, but that much was obvious. They’d run into Stephen; Stephen and George had exchanged a series of cryptic looks, and the next thing he knew, he was being pushed forcefully against his studio and kissed to within an inch of his life. Why this was happening, he had no idea, but he had to acknowledge that he really didn’t give a flying fuck as long as it never stopped.
Jon groaned into the kiss, threading his fingers through George’s hair and pulling him closer, gasping when he pressed a leg between Jon’s thighs. When they broke apart to breathe, Jon’s thoughts were swimming. He barely managed to ask, “What—”
“Got tired of waiting,” George told him, eyes sparkling like usual, but this time Jon could see the desire behind it. “I’ve been trying to ask you out for the past month.”
Jon tried to make sense of this, and couldn’t, but he wasn’t entirely sure if that was because he honestly didn’t understand or because he was currently being pinned to a building by George fucking Clooney. Licking his lips, he gave up on trying to think and crushed his mouth against George’s again for another intense kiss.
When they broke apart this time, Jon rested his forehead against George’s, and asked breathlessly, “You couldn’t have just done this in the first place?”
Their proximity meant Jon felt as well as heard George’s deep chuckle. “I was trying to be a gentleman,” he murmured into Jon’s ear, dropping a kiss right below it. Jon shivered, and George apparently noticed. “Cold?” he teased.
“Smug bastard,” Jon muttered. “You know what you do to me.”
“That’s not true,” George said, smirking. “Although, I do know what I want to do to you. Is that close enough?”
Jon held George’s smoldering gaze for a minute, his insides doing various acrobatic stunts and his cock getting more impatient. “So you want me,” he finally said.
“Hey, Stephen was wrong. It didn’t take any sirens or flashing lights.”
Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Stephen knows?”
George laughed, kissing him again. “Jon, everyone knows.”
Jon blinked. “And I’m the only one who didn’t?”
George nodded. “I told you it was believable,” he said, grinning at him. “But I’ve since learned that subtlety doesn’t really work well on you.”
Jon didn’t have a suitable response to that, so he kissed George again—passionately. “Sorry,” he eventually murmured, after they broke apart again. “That I didn’t notice, I mean. I’ve never been good at this sort of thing.”
“Not a problem, Jon,” George said. “Not being subtle is a lot more fun anyway.”
Jon grinned. “That’s true. So why are we still standing here?”
“Good question,” George said, voice low enough to be a growl. “Let’s go. I say we skip the drinks.”
Jon shivered at the tone, slightly disappointed when George pulled away and he was no longer pinned to the building. As they headed to hail a cab, Jon fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly at George, saying in a high-pitched tone, “I just love it when a guy is so direct.”
Then again, Jon thought, when George shot him that brain-melting grin backed up by a gaze so hot it’d put the sun to shame, subtlety had its advantages too.