Fic - Blades of Glory - Lacuna
May. 10th, 2007 04:04 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
zoicite.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
z_ficLacuna
PG-13, probably. I suck at rating, but the pants stay on, so PG-13 seems about right.
Chazz/Jimmy and a touch of Jimmy/Katie
Noes: This is technically the sequel to Focus, but with a few pretty basic assumptions from the movie, I think this could stand alone. Also, I believe there's a third part coming, and possibly an alternate story from Chazz's POV. Or I'm maybe just feeling overly ambitious this morning. I guess we'll see!
Chazz said he'd gotten it a week ago, but Jimmy was almost certain it wasn't the truth. Chazz walked around without his shirt on all the time and Jimmy certainly never noticed his own face smiling back at him from Chazz's shoulder. And Jimmy didn't know a lot about tattoos, but the skin around Chazz's newest one was red and a little puffy. Jimmy was pretty sure that meant new. Or it could possibly be an infection setting in from all of Chazz's time swimming in the St. Lawrence or wherever. Chazz should probably get that checked out.
Whatever the case, it was a little freaky, that tattoo.
"Like what you see?" Chazz asked and nudged Jimmy with his knee. "You're making it itch with all the staring."
"I don't know," Jimmy said. "It's weird. Do you think it looks infected?"
Chazz craned his neck and tried to look at his shoulder. He seemed to consider it and then shrugged. "No, I think that's just what you look like."
"I'm all puffy?"
"Here," Chazz said and ignored Jimmy's question. "Drink this." He pushed a shot of something gold toward Jimmy.
The bar was full of athletes celebrating or de-stressing, or possibly prepping for their shot at gold. It was hard to say. Coach and Jesse were sitting in a booth several feet away nursing a few beers. Jimmy sort of wondered if this was a post-games ritual for them too. He'd never been invited before if it was. He also never would have gone.
After the medal ceremony, they'd rushed Chazz to the hospital. Chazz wailed a lot during the x-rays, but luckily his ankle wasn't actually shattered. The break didn't require surgery so they stuck Chazz's foot in a cast, gave him some pain medication and some crutches, and told him to stay off of it for six weeks.
Chazz stayed off his ankle for about twelve hours. Maybe.
"I'm going crazy in here," Chazz said at ten the next morning. He'd only been awake an hour at that point.
"I can bring you food," Jimmy had offered. He'd tried to come up with a number of things to keep Chazz occupied while also keeping him in bed. Chazz shot down every one of Jimmy's ideas, and Jimmy definitely wasn't about to do either of the two suggestions that Chazz had. Which was how, after a day of complaining and French infomercials, they'd all ended up at the bar.
Jimmy eyed the shot that Chazz had set in front of him. He was there when the doctor gave Chazz the bottle of pills and told him no alcohol. He'd mentioned it to Chazz on the way to the bar but Chazz had shrugged him off
"What is it?" Jimmy asked. He poked at the glass. It was sticky and Jimmy was quick to wipe his hands on his pants.
"We're celebrating," Chazz said. "It's tequila. Drink it. You'll like it." He then pushed a salt shaker and a small plate of limes toward Jimmy as well.
"What am I supposed to do with that?"
Chazz sighed his now familiar 'that MacElroy kid is hopeless' sigh, and then demonstrated. He licked the side of his hand, shook salt all over it, licked it again, tossed back the shot, and then popped the lime in his mouth. Jimmy eyed Chazz's wet hand.
"Alcohol kills germs," Chazz offered, as though he'd read Jimmy's mind. Jimmy wasn't buying it, but before he could protest further, Chazz grabbed Jimmy's hand.
"Stop," Jimmy said, and tried to yank his hand away. Chazz rolled his eyes, turned Jimmy's hand and then Chazz's big sloppy tongue was all over the side of it.
"Gross," Jimmy gasped in disgust. Chazz started shaking salt all over Jimmy's hand and then shoved a sticky lime into his palm.
"Go," Chazz said.
"I'm not licking that," Jimmy said. "I don't know where your tongue has been."
Jimmy started to stand from the stool, intent to find his coat, the pockets of which contained both sanitary wipes and antibacterial hand gel. What he really needed was a bathroom, but he'd already been in the bar's restroom and had quickly decided never to go in there again ever.
Chazz grabbed Jimmy's wrist and pulled him close, almost tipping Jimmy's stool over in the process.
"It's been in your mouth," Chazz said, his voice low. He clarified, "My tongue, I mean. The other day." He added the last part as though he thought Jimmy might have forgotten it.
Jimmy didn't know if it was the gold medal, or the Iron Lotus, or the reminder of Chazz's kissing lesson, but Chazz had made a good point and Jimmy stared at his hand for a moment before saying "Okay. One. I'll try one."
**
"Jimmy," Chazz hissed. "Jimmy."
Jimmy rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter. He'd forgotten to put in his earplugs.
"MacElroy," Chazz said, louder this time. "Wake up."
"What?" Jimmy didn't bother to open his eyes. He should have. He might have been able to dodge the pillow that hit him square in the face. "Jerk," Jimmy grumbled. He removed the pillow from his head and hugged it, tried to get comfortable again. "What do you want?"
"I have to piss," Chazz said.
Jimmy lifted his head long enough to glare over at Chazz, "So go. I don't need to know about it."
"I can't. My foot is fucking killing me and my crutches are on the other side of the room."
"Chazz," Jimmy sighed, but rolled out of bed. His chest was sore and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. His mouth kind of felt the same. And halfway across the room, he realized he was only wearing his underwear. "Um," Jimmy chirped and looked around for something to cover himself up with. Chazz didn't seem to notice or care that Jimmy was mostly naked. "Where are my clothes?"
"Come on," Chazz urged, reaching his hands out for the crutches. "Now."
Jimmy pushed the crutches toward Chazz, who threw off his blankets and grabbed them. Jimmy turned away so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Jimmy was mostly naked, but Chazz was entirely naked. He couldn't see Chazz anymore, but he put a hand to his eyes just in case.
"This is why there's a rule!" Jimmy choked.
"Oh, shut up," Chazz snapped and shut the bathroom door hard.
**
Early on in their partnership, Jimmy had had to enforce the rule. Clothing was not, under any circumstances, optional at bedtime. If Chazz wanted to sleep naked, then Chazz would be sleeping in another room or at least on the bottom bunk. As long as Chazz was climbing a ladder right next to Jimmy's face, Chazz would be wearing clothing of some sort.
Chazz had agreed to Jimmy's terms, which had been surprising at the time, but it had only taken a day before Jimmy realized his mistake. He should have specified what was meant by clothing of "some sort."
Eventually Jimmy just started wearing an eye mask to sleep.
**
Jimmy didn't suspect anything truly out of the ordinary until they were on the plane, 30,000 feet over one of the Great Lakes. That was when Chazz turned to Jimmy and said "By the way, there's a hickey on your neck."
**
They hit a patch of turbulence just as Jimmy shut himself in the bathroom. His hip smashed into the tiny sink and he reached out to brace himself on the mirror. And then he noticed the dark blotch high on the left side of his neck. He rubbed at it with his fingers, tried to wash it off with some water from the sink, but the mark didn't budge. It was definitely a bruise.
He'd kissed Katie, after the Lotus, and then at the hotel the next day when Katie had come to check on Chazz and to tell them that her sister and brother were still in custody, that they still didn't know what was going to happen, and that she didn't care. Chazz was particularly ornery at that point, having been stuck in the room and awake for four hours with Jimmy refusing to be cooperative, so Jimmy had escorted Katie out to the hallway to talk.
"I'm sorry they tried to kill you," Katie said. She was wringing a jacket in her hands. It didn't look like it was her jacket. It looked like it might be Fairchild's.
"They didn't, really," Jimmy said. "I mean, she just handcuffed me in a bathroom stall."
But it seemed to amount to the same thing to Katie. She stared at the floor for a little while longer and then she looked up at Jimmy with large worried eyes. She was really pretty, even when she was upset. Jimmy liked the way her forehead wrinkled when she looked at him.
"I'm sorry about Chazz," she added.
"Oh," Jimmy looked back at the closed door. "Chazz is fine."
Katie nodded and looked down at the jacket, and then past Jimmy toward the elevator. "I should probably –"
And that was when Jimmy had decided that the best way to comfort Katie, to take her mind off the whole mess, was to kiss her. So he did. Katie smelled nice, kind of flowery and sweet, and her lips were soft against Jimmy's. She seemed to fold in against him and gasped a little when Jimmy touched his fingers to her cheek. Jimmy knew that he was getting it right this time, could feel that it was right as his lips moved against hers. She pressed her hands to his chest and sighed a little when Jimmy pulled away.
It was a nice kiss. But Katie left afterward and Jimmy had only spoken with her briefly on the phone since. She had a lot going on and would be tied up in Montreal a little longer than she had thought. They'd made plans to see each other again, and that was it. Katie hadn't been anywhere near his neck. Which left only one explanation.
**
"Ow," Chazz said when Jimmy returned from the bathroom and pinched his arm.
"What did you do," Jimmy demanded.
"I didn't do anything," Chazz said. Jimmy raised his eyebrows and pointed at his neck. Chazz paused and then his head bobbed once and he said "Okay, yeah. That was me."
"No crap," Jimmy said, and climbed over Chazz to get back to his seat. Chazz didn't make it easy, couldn't seem to get the crutches out of Jimmy's way, but eventually Jimmy was able to sit down and fasten his seat belt. Then he turned back to Chazz. "What happened?"
"When?" Chazz asked. He opened his eyes wide, probably in an attempt at innocent confusion. He looked like an idiot.
"You got me drunk," Jimmy accused.
Chazz made a face. "Oh, come on. You're saying it like I'd need to get you drunk to have my way with you."
"I hate you," Jimmy grumbled. He folded his arms over his chest and slouched down in his seat.
Chazz snorted a little. "Not what you said last night."
"What?"
Chazz held up his hands. "I'm kidding. Nothing happened."
Jimmy looked pointedly at Chazz.
"Nothing except the hickey," Chazz amended. "Which is pretty hot, by the way. You've got a good neck for it. The ladies'll dig it."
Jimmy wasn't an idiot. Women did not "dig" guys with hickeys on their necks.
**
Having Chazz in his life was like being stuck in a never ending headbanger spin. Or like a rollercoaster. Jimmy hated rollercoasters, but it really was just like that. They hated each other and then they were kind of friends. Chazz kissed him, twice, and then Chazz grabbed his girlfriend's boob. They won the gold, Chazz got Jimmy drunk and then gave him a hickey while he was in his underwear. It made Jimmy's head spin.
Jimmy stared at the dense cloud tops outside the window and tried to piece together what had happened after they left the bar. Chazz was snoring in the seat beside him.
He didn't remember how many shots he'd had before the night was over, or what was in the fruity red drink that Chazz had promised Jimmy he would love (he kind of had loved it). He remembered it taking three of them to get Chazz into the cab, but he didn't remember unlocking their hotel room door, or how the heck Chazz had managed to get across the room while Jimmy was still standing there holding his crutches.
He did remember Chazz shouting that he couldn't feel his legs, which probably explained that last part.
Jimmy had set the crutches against the wall. The room was turning just a little. It had reminded Jimmy of learning a new spin.
Jimmy remembered taking off his coat and saying that he thought he was drunk. He remembered that Chazz had some wise retort, and he remembered collapsing on the bed next to Chazz.
The rest of the night was a blur.
Back on the plane Chazz's head fell onto Jimmy's shoulder and Jimmy shrugged him off, pushed him a little so that Chazz slumped in the other direction. He didn't know what he was going to tell Katie. They'd made plans to go skiing, which was good because they'd be bundled up a lot of the time, but Jimmy doubted he'd be able to make it through the entire date in a parka. His hair covered the bruise, mostly, but it still seemed pretty visible. He needed an explanation.
**
"How long does it last?" Jimmy asked. They were in Minneapolis. Their connecting flight didn't leave for another hour and a half. "A hickey, I mean."
"I don't know," Chazz said. "A week or something?"
Jimmy rubbed at his neck. His date with Katie was in exactly three days.
"So how did I end up without my clothes?" Jimmy asked and then added. "Where are the clothes I was wearing, anyway?"
Chazz shrugged. "You took them off."
"Why would I do that?"
"I don't know, Jimmy. Because that's what drunk people do," Chazz said. "They take off their clothes. It's half the reason why anyone drinks in the first place."
"Is that why you made me drink the tequila? To get me to take off my clothes?"
Chazz threw up his hands and stood from his seat, grabbed his crutches. "I'm getting Starbucks," he said and hobbled off. He didn't return until it was time to board.
**
Jimmy came out of the bathroom and found Chazz in his bed. They hadn't spoken much on the remainder of the flight, and by the time they'd gotten back to Coach's house, everyone was exhausted.
"Get out," Jimmy said, and kicked the side of the mattress.
Chazz groaned. "I can't get up the damned ladder. You're switching with me."
"At least give me my pillow," Jimmy said.
Chazz handed him the pillow and Jimmy climbed up the ladder and onto the top bunk. He dropped Chazz's pillow and his fur blanket thing down and then tried to get comfortable. He didn't have his earplugs, or his mask, and Chazz was probably laying on them by now or they'd fallen underneath the bed. Jimmy wasn't about to climb down to look. The bed smelled vaguely like Chazz, which probably should have been gross but wasn't. Jimmy rolled onto his side and wrapped the blankets around his body. Chazz was quiet below him.
The weird thing about Chazz was that he didn't lie often as far as Jimmy could tell. He kind of seemed to Jimmy like someone who would, but Chazz had a tendency to tell the truth, even about the stuff where most normal people would lie. The stuff that you probably should lie about. When Chazz did lie it tended to be about things that Jimmy didn't even think were worth bothering to lie about. Like when Chazz got his tattoo. He had the weird tattoo of Jimmy's face, it didn't really matter when he got it, but Jimmy knew it wasn't as long ago as Chazz said it was and he couldn't figure out why Chazz wouldn't tell the truth about the most trivial part of the whole tattoo thing.
But the hickey and the lack of clothing didn't seem that trivial to Jimmy, and Chazz was still being vague about the whole thing, so Jimmy had no idea whether he could believe Chazz or not.
"Nothing happened?" Jimmy asked, eventually, unable not to. "Really?"
"Jimmy," Chazz groaned. "Come on, man. No."
Jimmy frowned and touched his neck. "Did I like it?"
"Dude," Chazz said. "Do you want something to happen? Cause you won't shut up about it."
"No, I meant, you know, the neck thing. Did I like it?"
Chazz was quiet for a moment and then said, "Oh. Yes."
"Okay," Jimmy said. He wasn't sure why he'd asked. He knew that if it was anything like kissing Chazz had been, then he must have liked it. Once it was started, he'd probably wanted more. That was the thing, really. It wasn't so much that Jimmy didn't trust Chazz. He knew that Chazz wasn't a complete asshole. He knew that Chazz wouldn't do anything that Jimmy didn't want him to do. Jimmy trusted Chazz, but sometimes Jimmy didn't trust himself.
"I can give you a reenactment if you want," Chazz offered from the bunk below.
"No, thanks," Jimmy said, quickly. "Um, did you, you know, like it?"
"What?" Chazz asked. "Sucking on your neck?"
"Um, yeah."
Chazz paused and then said, "Not really. It was okay."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Chazz sighed.
"Sorry."
**
Jimmy tried to steer clear of Chazz, embarrassed that he would have come on so strongly and not even realized it or remembered it. It was a little difficult though, to steer clear, when they shared a room and Chazz couldn't drive and Jimmy didn't really have anywhere else to go. He spent a lot of time skating alone, and a lot of time apologizing a lot. If he bumped into Chazz he apologized. If Chazz disagreed with him, he apologized. If he was in the kitchen when Chazz walked in, he apologized.
"If you don't stop doing that," Chazz said, "I'm going to stick your head in the toilet and flush it. I'm not even kidding."
"Sorry," Jimmy said, and then slapped his hand over his mouth when he realized he'd just done it again.
Chazz's eyes were comically wide, his mouth set in a line. He looked like he actually would have chased Jimmy down and stuck his head in the toilet if he could run, but instead he settled for trying to hit Jimmy in the ass with one of his crutches. It was easy to dodge and by the time Jimmy left the kitchen they were both laughing. Coach didn't think it was quite as funny when he realized that Chazz had broken two glasses and a cookie jar with the crutch.
Jimmy tried to relax after that. The bruise on his neck was slowly fading and his paranoia around Chazz seemed to be dissipating with it. When Jimmy looked at Chazz he saw his friend, his partner. He didn't want to kiss Chazz. He wasn't dreaming about Chazz at night. He was okay. They were okay.
And Katie had called to postpone their date. She didn't sound okay.
"Did you know?" Katie asked. "That my brother and sister were –"
Jimmy hadn't known, but Chazz had. He said he had an instinct about that sort of thing.
"They were so obvious," Chazz huffed when Jimmy expressed his surprise. "They should have just had sex right there on the ice. It would have been the same thing."
When Jimmy had brought it up again Chazz added, "So they made out in front of an arena full of people. They were all French. They loved it."
Jimmy wasn't buying that. He tried to comfort Katie over the phone, but wasn't sure that anything he said had helped. When she apologized and postponed their date, he tried to sound devastated, but mostly he felt relief.
**
"Baywatch is on," Chazz said, when Jimmy walked into the living room and found Chazz sprawled across Coach's couch. Chazz looked Jimmy up and down and then patted the couch for Jimmy to sit.
"I don't like Baywatch," Jimmy said and adjusted his shirt. He'd worn it before and wasn't sure why Chazz had looked at it like it was weird and new. It wasn't the first time Chazz had done that since they'd returned from Montreal.
"You've never seen it," Chazz said. "How do you know you don't?"
"I just do." Jimmy made a face, but crossed the room and settled onto the couch with Chazz.
"This is a good one," Chazz said and squeezed Jimmy's knee before moving his arm to rest along the back of the couch.
Jimmy had a feeling that if Chazz classified it as a good episode, it probably meant someone got naked. Or there was just a lot of running. Or two girls making out. There were quite a few possibilities, really, none of which he was particularly interested in watching.
Chazz was wearing a stretched out black tank top and when Jimmy turned to say something to Chazz he was surprised again to see a bizarre likeness of his own face staring back at him. He must have been staring at it because Chazz knocked him in the shoulder and then tried to run a hand through Jimmy's hair. Jimmy pushed Chazz's hand away and said, "You got that tattoo before we even went to Montreal?"
"No," Chazz said. The show went to a commercial break and Chazz paused, looked over at Jimmy and said, "What? Yes."
"I don't remember it," Jimmy said.
Chazz shrugged, his hand coming back up to touch Jimmy's hair again. Jimmy scrunched up his neck and leaned his head forward, but Chazz was persistent, his fingers scratching at Jimmy's scalp. It actually felt really good, and after another moment of resistance, Jimmy relaxed and let Chazz continue. He settled back against Chazz's arm, and after a few minutes of Baywatch, something about Pamela Anderson and some other woman renting the same apartment, he shut his eyes.
He must have dozed off because when Coach suddenly said, "There better be a coaster under that." Jimmy jumped. He looked around and noticed the sweating glass of soda that Chazz had sitting on the table. It was on a coaster.
Chazz gave Coach a thumbs up and then Coach turned to Jimmy, stared for a moment, and said, "What the hell happened to your head?"
"What?" Jimmy asked.
"Is that your new look or something?" Coach asked. "I don't like it."
Jimmy, flustered, turned to Chazz. "What?" he asked again.
"I think it looks good," Chazz said. The corner of his lip twitched a little, as though he was trying not to smile.
Jimmy jumped off the couch rushed into the bathroom to see what the fuss was about. From the front everything looked pretty normal, but when Jimmy turned his head, his mouth dropped open. Chazz had taken small sections of his hair and twisted them, tight enough that they mostly stayed that way, an odd jumble of blonde spikey swirls.
"Chazz," Jimmy groaned and started undoing the damage.
**
Jimmy's paranoia about the fading hickey returned two days later.
"What?" Jimmy asked when he turned from the stove and caught Chazz staring at him. Coach was gone for a week, some kind of coach's retreat thing with Jesse or at least Jimmy thought that was what Coach had mumbled, and so Jimmy and Chazz were left to fend for themselves. Jimmy was trying to make pancakes.
"Nothing," Chazz said. "Do you know how to cook? Like at all?"
"Not really," Jimmy said. "It can't be that hard." But when he tried to flip his pancake he found that the other side was black and kind of crusty.
"Oops," Chazz said from his perch on the stool.
It happened again twenty minutes later. The pancakes were going better, though Jimmy had had to throw out most of the first batch and then mix more batter, but he felt he'd finally gotten the hang of it. He turned to show Chazz that the pancake was a nice golden brown, almost like it was made in a diner, and caught Chazz staring at his back again.
Jimmy craned his neck and tried to look at the back of his pants. "What?" he asked again. "You've been looking at me funny for days."
"Nothing," Chazz repeated. "I like those pants."
"Oh," Jimmy looked down. They were track pants. They were blue. He wore them all the time. "Thanks."
Later that afternoon, Jimmy caught Chazz watching as Jimmy folded laundry. Even later, Chazz sat on the couch three times, only to call Jimmy over five minutes later so that Jimmy could take his hand and help him back up again. And that evening Chazz hobbled into the bathroom behind Jimmy and slid an arm around Jimmy's waist while Jimmy was brushing his teeth, his hand resting lightly on Jimmy's stomach.
Jimmy spit his toothpaste into the sink. "What are you doing?"
"Let's skate tomorrow," Chazz said.
"You can't skate."
"I miss the smell of the ice." Chazz took a deep breath right next to Jimmy so that in the mirror it looked like Chazz was sniffing Jimmy's hair.
"Are you drunk?" Jimmy asked.
"Would it be better if I was?" Chazz asked, his voice serious.
"I don't get it."
"You're driving me insane," Chazz said, and then released Jimmy. "This house is driving me crazy." He grabbed hold of his leg and shook it as though mad that it could ever betray him this way.
Jimmy frowned. "Are you sure you're not drunk?"
"You know what?" Chazz said, and poked Jimmy's chest with his index finger. It hurt. "I wish I was drunk. I really do. It would explain a lot."
**
After Chazz's outburst, Jimmy made an effort to get Chazz out of the house. He couldn't believe that Chazz waited until Coach and Jesse had left before he flipped out. Actually, he could believe it. It seemed exactly like something Chazz would do. He took Chazz to the public open skate at Denver University to watch kids fall. Chazz had admitted once, before Montreal, that he did this sometimes to boost his confidence. It seemed a little weird to Jimmy, but at least most of the kids were wearing helmets.
Jimmy took Chazz to the grocery store where they stocked up on frozen dinners and cereal. He even took Chazz to one of the local bars Chazz tended to frequent. The bar was having a karaoke night and they sang three duets, but Chazz seemed disappointed when Jimmy refused to drink anything but 7-Up.
And then Jimmy invited Katie home for dinner. He thought it would probably be good to have new faces around the house. He decided he'd make pancakes, since it was pretty much the only thing he knew how to make. He should have guessed how the night would go when Chazz hobbled into the kitchen in his underwear and said, "Breakfast for dinner? Smart."
"Smart? Why?" Jimmy asked.
"Feed them breakfast for dinner and they have no reason to still be here in the morning."
Jimmy shook his head. "Could you please put on pants before she gets here?"
Chazz did put on pants, after complaining for ten minutes that most of his pants didn't fit over his ankle. He chose a sleeveless shirt, which didn't even register for Jimmy until Katie turned to say something to Chazz at dinner and came face to face with a tattoo of Jimmy's puffy distorted face.
"Um," Katie said, suddenly at a loss for words. "Is that real?"
Chazz looked down at his shoulder and then, with his mouth full of breakfast sausage, said, "You bet your butt it is."
"Oh," Katie said. "Um – it's nice."
"Chazz was drunk," Jimmy explained. Or tried to explain, anyway.
"Did you see Jimmy's hickey?" Chazz asked and Jimmy's mouth fell open. Chazz had helped Jimmy cover it with make-up less than an hour earlier.
Katie turned to look at Jimmy, her brow furrowed.
"It's nothing," Jimmy said. It didn't sound reassuring. "Chazz was um – drunk?"
Katie was quiet for another moment and then she took a sip of her glass of milk and said, "So are you guys going to keep skating? I mean now that you've won and all?"
Jimmy looked at Chazz, but Chazz seemed to be ignoring them both now as he shoveled food into his mouth. "Uh, I don't know," Jimmy said. "I hadn't really – I don't know."
"You should," Katie said, quickly. "You guys are so good. I just don't know how you'll be able to top the Iron Lotus, you know?"
Jimmy nodded and poked at his pancakes. Chazz belched and leaned back in his chair, smiled at Jimmy.
Later, after Katie left, Jimmy found Chazz leaning against the fridge eating ice cream from the carton.
"Are you crazy?" Jimmy asked.
"Me?" Chazz gestured toward his chest with an ice cream-covered spoon.
"Yes, you," Jimmy said. "What was that?"
Chazz offered Jimmy the carton of ice cream. Jimmy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Did you bang her?" Chazz asked, as though in the natural progression of the conversation it was a completely normal question.
Jimmy was shocked for half a second and then rolled his eyes. Chazz was doing it on purpose. He couldn't actually be this much of a jerk.
"We were outside for five minutes," Jimmy said.
Chazz shrugged. "So. It probably wouldn't take that long," he reasoned. "The first time usually doesn't."
Jimmy shook his head. "What is wrong with you?"
Chazz shoveled a large spoonfull of ice cream into his mouth and swallowed it before shaking his head emphatically and saying, "Jimmy, man. You don't want to know."
It was small consolation that a moment later Chazz ended up doubled over on the floor with a bad case of brain freeze.
**
Jimmy started looking for apartments in Denver the next morning. He was starting to think the best thing was for Chazz and him to spend some time apart. He'd just started compiling a list of promising leads when he heard Chazz shuffling around behind him.
"What are you doing?" Chazz asked. "Looking at porn?"
"No," Jimmy said. Chazz placed a hand on the back of Jimmy's neck, massaged a little. Jimmy tensed. "Don't touch me."
"Hookers?" Chazz guessed. He didn't remove his hand.
Jimmy looked at the realtor on the screen. His name was Frank. He was a large man with a dark beard and a red flannel shirt. He looked more like a lumberjack than anything.
"He's a realtor," Jimmy said. "That guy looks like a hooker to you?"
Chazz was quiet for a moment, his hand still working at Jimmy's neck. Jimmy could feel himself relaxing involuntarily under Chazz's touch.
"Some people are into that," Chazz said eventually. "Not me, but some people."
"Not me either," Jimmy sniffed.
"I know," Chazz said. His hand disappeared.
"I'm looking for apartments." He showed Chazz his list of numbers.
"They aren’t hookers? Really?"
"We can't stay here forever," Jimmy reasoned. "Sharing a room with bunk beds? We're adults. You're like 40 practically. Don't you want your own place? And Coach. He has a life other than being, you know, Coach. I think."
"I don't think he does," Chazz said.
"Do you even want to keep skating?" Jimmy asked. He turned in his chair so that he could look up at Chazz. "I mean, together?"
"You don't?" Chazz asked. He turned away from Jimmy and hobbled over toward the couch.
"I don't know," Jimmy said. "Katie's right. I mean, other than the fact that we were something no one had seen yet, other than the Iron Lotus, are we actually any good together? We have a year or now almost. If you wanted you could even find a real partner. A woman, even."
"And you could teach Katie to skate," Chazz grumbled quietly, practically throwing himself onto the sofa.
"What?"
"I don't care," Chazz said, louder and clearer. He let go of his crutches and they fell to the floor beside him.
Jimmy flinched. He didn't understand Chazz. One minute Chazz was Jimmy's friend, his partner, and everything made sense. The next he was – well, whatever he was now. And then Jimmy realized that he understood Chazz after all. "Are you jealous?" He asked. "Of me and Katie?"
Chazz coughed and made a big show of shaking his head and waving his hands. "No. Not at all. Nooo."
Jimmy smiled. That had to be it. Jimmy had Katie and Chazz didn't even have his favorite hair brush anymore. Chazz was a sex addict, after all. And despite what Jimmy sometimes thought, there was probably more to sex addiction than an easy excuse to act like a complete jerk to your friends. Chazz had needs and hearing about Jimmy and Katie, seeing Katie, made it worse for Chazz. It made perfect sense and Jimmy turned back to the computer, and began clicking away.
**
Jimmy set the bottle of tequila down on the coffee table in front of Chazz, right in the middle of the game of Solitaire Chazz was playing. Chazz, Jimmy had learned, had a thing for cards. He also had things for liquor and women, so Jimmy didn't feel too badly about interrupting the game.
"What's this?" Chazz asked.
"It's a gift," Jimmy said. He climbed onto the couch beside Chazz, folding his legs beneath him. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it into Chazz's hand.
Chazz unfolded it and looked at the number, then back up at Jimmy.
"Her name is Vera," Jimmy said. "She's free tonight. I spoke to her and she sounds nice. She's waiting for you to call."
"A hooker?" Chazz asked. He looked down at the paper again.
"An escort," Jimmy amended.
"Oh," Chazz said. "Thanks. What's the occasion?"
"Well," Jimmy said. "You're a cripple and all, and you're kind of stuck here with me. And with your addiction – well, it seems like you've been having a hard time is all."
"Oh," Chazz said again. He set the piece of paper on the table and gestured toward the tequila. "Are you going to drink this with me?"
"You're not going to call her?" Jimmy asked. "I thought I'd go and you and Vera could –"
"I'll call her later," Chazz said. "Do you have glasses?"
"Um," Jimmy said, not sure what the problem was. "Okay." He found two dusty shot glasses in the kitchen, rinsed them, and pulled the lime he'd purchased from the fridge. He grabbed the salt shaker on his way past the stove and then returned to the living room.
"Are you going to eat the whole lime?" Chazz asked, eyeing it when Jimmy set it on the table.
"Oh," Jimmy said, and returned to the kitchen for a plate and knife.
Eventually he had everything and Chazz poured two shots of the amber liquid.
"You're sure you want to do this?" Chazz asked, pushing one of the shots toward Jimmy.
"I guess –" Jimmy said, and then nodded, resolute. "Yes."
Chazz held his hand out for the salt shaker, and before Jimmy could really stop to think about what he was doing, he took Chazz's hand in his, brought it to his mouth, and licked it.
Chazz didn't say anything, just watched as Jimmy shook salt onto his hand and released it. He kept watching as Jimmy licked his own hand, salted his own hand, and then held up his shot and looked back at Chazz.
Chazz held Jimmy's gaze for a moment and then he too held up his shot. "Ready?" Chazz asked.
Jimmy nodded and started to bring his hand back to his mouth, but then stopped and said. "I want to keep skating."
Chazz already had a mouth full of salt, and he coughed before saying, "Okay?"
"I mean, together. With you. I want to keep skating with you."
Chazz downed his shot and then grabbed a wedge of lime. "Yech," he said, and made a face. "Then we'll keep skating."
Jimmy smiled and licked the salt from his hand. He took the shot and immediately started coughing, shocked by the burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat. Chazz pushed a piece of lime into his hand and Jimmy popped it into his mouth and it helped, but only a little.
"Tequila is really disgusting," Jimmy noted once he could speak again.
"That it is, my friend," Chazz mused, and then poured himself another shot. He started to pour a second shot for Jimmy as well, but when Jimmy groaned in dismay, he stopped at about a quarter of a shot. "Do that little bit with me and then you're done."
"I don't know if I can," Jimmy groaned.
Chazz made an encouraging face and then held out his hand to Jimmy.
"What?" Jimmy asked, and then got it. He rolled his eyes, but took Chazz's hand and ran his tongue across the side of it anyway. He shook salt on Chazz's hand and then pushed it away and looked up. He repeated the process on his own hand and then knocked his shot glass against Chazz's and drank his tiny quarter shot, his eyes squeezed up and face screwed up as he felt the now familiar burn.
Chazz was still holding his shot and watching Jimmy when Jimmy had finally recovered.
"What?"
Chazz shook his head and then downed the shot. He let his breath out in a hiss and then didn't even bother with the lime. He pointed the empty shot glass toward Jimmy. "You're driving me insane, you know that?"
Jimmy frowned. "Why?"
"Jimmy," Chazz huffed, as though he really couldn't believe that Jimmy would ask such a stupid question.
Jimmy took the shot glass from Chazz's hand and set both glasses on the coffee table. He leaned closer to Chazz and set a hand on Chazz's leg, the way Chazz often did to him. "What happened last week? I swear, I won't get angry. I just want to know."
Chazz removed Jimmy's hand from his leg. Jimmy let it curl into his own lap.
"You kissed me," Chazz said, and Jimmy nodded. He'd known that part. "You were all over me."
Jimmy looked down at the table. "Sorry," he said.
"What? No, don't do that."
"Sorry," Jimmy said again before he could stop himself. "Um, I kissed you. Did – I mean, did we –"
Chazz shook his head and reached for the bottle of tequila again. "You threw up."
"Wait – on you?"
"No," Chazz said. "In the bathroom, mostly. And on yourself a little. I threw out your clothes and dumped water down your throat and dumped you in bed. I really can't believe that you weren't more hungover than you were, man. Minor miracle, that."
"When did you – you know?" Jimmy pointed at his neck.
"Oh, that was before the pukefest. We were still in the bar when that happened," Chazz said. "Body shots, Jimmy. One of the perks of tequila. We just got a little carried away is all."
"Oh," Jimmy said. Nothing had happened. Nothing that he hadn't known. He'd gotten sick instead. No wonder thinking about doing another shot of tequila was making him gag a little. "You're an idiot. Why wouldn't you just tell me that? I've been sitting here for a week thinking – I don't even know what I was thinking."
"You were thinking you'd scored with Chazz Michael Michaels," Chazz said knowingly.
"I guess."
Chazz nodded and took a swig of tequila directly from the bottle.
"You should have just told me," Jimmy said again.
Chazz leaned over and snaked an arm across Jimmy's shoulders.
"Wanna know why I didn't tell you?" Chazz asked, conspiratorially.
"Why?" Jimmy asked.
"Wait." Chazz paused to take another long swig from the bottle. He set it down and then tightened his arm around Jimmy's shoulders. Jimmy wasn't expecting to be kissed. He wasn't expecting it at all, so when he suddenly found Chazz's tongue in his mouth, Jimmy wasn't quite sure what to do.
It felt different than the last kisses, the one's that Jimmy remembered. This one felt like Chazz was taking, claiming. This kiss was better than any of the kisses Jimmy had had before it. He wondered if this was how they'd kissed a week ago. If this was what he was missing. Chazz's tongue slid against Jimmy's and Jimmy moaned into Chazz's mouth, his fingers pressing into Chazz's arms, trying to pull him closer.
It was never like this with Katie. He told himself that he liked that. That he needed to maintain some control. He'd had control over his life for so long, and ever since he and Chazz first ended up on that podium together, Jimmy felt like it had slowly been slipping away. It slipped away completely each time that Chazz's lips met his.
Jimmy wasn't ready when Chazz ended the kiss, and he tried to follow as Chazz pulled away, kissed the corner of Chazz's mouth before he realized what was happening.
"God, Jimmy," Chazz said, so low it was almost a growl. "I want to get into your pants so bad I can taste it."
That snapped Jimmy out of it and he sat up, released Chazz's arms. It was almost the last thing he'd expected Chazz to say.
"What?" Jimmy gasped. He tried to control his breathing. "But I'm a – I'm a guy. I mean – you – you keep saying you didn't. You're not attracted to guys."
Chazz slouched down on the couch, spread out a little. Jimmy shut his mouth and turned away, took a moment to compose himself before looking at Chazz again.
"I'm not into dudes," Chazz agreed. "You though. You I'm definitely into."
Jimmy shook his head. "That doesn't make sense." Chazz's hand crept low on Jimmy's back. His fingers brushed the skin just below the line of Jimmy's shirt. Jimmy shivered. "It doesn't make sense," he said again.
"Are you into dudes?" Chazz asked. Jimmy was having a hard time concentrating on Chazz's words. All he could think about were Chazz's fingers on his bare skin.
"No," Jimmy said.
"But you like kissing me," Chazz reasoned. "You're hot for me, MacElroy."
"I guess," Jimmy started and then shook his head. "You're a good kisser. That's all. You said it didn't mean –"
Chazz leaned in and pressed his lips to Jimmy's neck, just behind Jimmy's ear. He felt the wet warmth of Chazz's tongue against his skin.
"You said you weren't – that you didn't like this," Jimmy said, still trying with some difficulty to form complete sentences. Chazz was tracing intricate patterns along the line of Jimmy's neck and Jimmy's head fell back to give Chazz better access.
"I was lying," Chazz said against Jimmy's skin. He sucked the edge of Jimmy's earlobe into his mouth, hummed a little, and Jimmy, surprising even himself, laughed.
It was all kind of funny, all of a sudden. Chazz's fingers underneath Jimmy's shirt were suddenly tickling rather than stroking. Chazz's mouth on his cheekbone felt strange and kind of funny. Jimmy squirmed and tried to knock Chazz's hands away.
"There's no way you're making me stop now," Chazz growled, confused, and Jimmy thought about saying yes, felt that the moment was slipping away until Chazz shifted, his mouth on Jimmy's Adam's apple, his teeth grazing low on Jimmy's throat and Jimmy gasped, jerked beneath Chazz, surprised by the sudden heat he felt in his stomach. It suddenly wasn't very funny at all anymore.
Jimmy's shirt was pushed up and over his head and Jimmy shuddered a little at the sudden nakedness. Chazz was kissing down Jimmy's chest, tasting Jimmy's skin with a focus that Jimmy had only ever seen while Chazz was skating. Chazz paused just shy of Jimmy's right nipple and Jimmy moaned.
"Don't stop," Jimmy said quickly, unsure if Chazz had understood the previously unspoken response.
Chazz smiled up at him, a crooked smirk, and that was when Jimmy caught sight of the tattoo.
"What about that?" Jimmy asked. He pushed at Chazz until Chazz shifted a little and Jimmy could reach out and run his fingers across the ink.
"I got it the night I taught you how to kiss. In Montreal."
"I knew it," Jimmy breathed.
Chazz kissed Jimmy's mouth and then added, "Last week, you didn't kiss me after the bar. I kissed you. Couldn't help it. I lied about that too."
"Why?"
Chazz shrugged. "I’m a liar."
It was another lie, Jimmy could tell. Or it wasn't, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Jimmy wanted to press, but Chazz's hands were moving again, felt like they were everywhere. Jimmy didn't remember lying down on the couch, or how he ended up completely beneath Chazz. He didn't recognize the noise he made in his own throat when Chazz pressed a hand to Jimmy's groin, the friction causing Jimmy to squirm and arch helplessly below Chazz.
"Don't stop," Jimmy said again. He wrapped a hand around the back of Chazz's neck and pulled Chazz down until their lips met, taking control of the kiss for the first time. Jimmy put everything he'd learned into the kiss, embellished, improvised. Chazz jerked above him, pressed himself against Jimmy's thigh, moaned into Jimmy's mouth.
"God," Chazz groaned. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open just a little. He thrust against Jimmy's leg and then moved down the couch until his head was resting low on Jimmy's stomach, as though he needed a break, just for a moment. "This is so not turning me on at all," Chazz gasped. He couldn't seem to catch his breath.
Jimmy touched Chazz's face, his hair. He closed his eyes, and for the first time, knew that Chazz was as tangled in this as he was. "Liar," Jimmy whispered.
PG-13, probably. I suck at rating, but the pants stay on, so PG-13 seems about right.
Chazz/Jimmy and a touch of Jimmy/Katie
Noes: This is technically the sequel to Focus, but with a few pretty basic assumptions from the movie, I think this could stand alone. Also, I believe there's a third part coming, and possibly an alternate story from Chazz's POV. Or I'm maybe just feeling overly ambitious this morning. I guess we'll see!
Chazz said he'd gotten it a week ago, but Jimmy was almost certain it wasn't the truth. Chazz walked around without his shirt on all the time and Jimmy certainly never noticed his own face smiling back at him from Chazz's shoulder. And Jimmy didn't know a lot about tattoos, but the skin around Chazz's newest one was red and a little puffy. Jimmy was pretty sure that meant new. Or it could possibly be an infection setting in from all of Chazz's time swimming in the St. Lawrence or wherever. Chazz should probably get that checked out.
Whatever the case, it was a little freaky, that tattoo.
"Like what you see?" Chazz asked and nudged Jimmy with his knee. "You're making it itch with all the staring."
"I don't know," Jimmy said. "It's weird. Do you think it looks infected?"
Chazz craned his neck and tried to look at his shoulder. He seemed to consider it and then shrugged. "No, I think that's just what you look like."
"I'm all puffy?"
"Here," Chazz said and ignored Jimmy's question. "Drink this." He pushed a shot of something gold toward Jimmy.
The bar was full of athletes celebrating or de-stressing, or possibly prepping for their shot at gold. It was hard to say. Coach and Jesse were sitting in a booth several feet away nursing a few beers. Jimmy sort of wondered if this was a post-games ritual for them too. He'd never been invited before if it was. He also never would have gone.
After the medal ceremony, they'd rushed Chazz to the hospital. Chazz wailed a lot during the x-rays, but luckily his ankle wasn't actually shattered. The break didn't require surgery so they stuck Chazz's foot in a cast, gave him some pain medication and some crutches, and told him to stay off of it for six weeks.
Chazz stayed off his ankle for about twelve hours. Maybe.
"I'm going crazy in here," Chazz said at ten the next morning. He'd only been awake an hour at that point.
"I can bring you food," Jimmy had offered. He'd tried to come up with a number of things to keep Chazz occupied while also keeping him in bed. Chazz shot down every one of Jimmy's ideas, and Jimmy definitely wasn't about to do either of the two suggestions that Chazz had. Which was how, after a day of complaining and French infomercials, they'd all ended up at the bar.
Jimmy eyed the shot that Chazz had set in front of him. He was there when the doctor gave Chazz the bottle of pills and told him no alcohol. He'd mentioned it to Chazz on the way to the bar but Chazz had shrugged him off
"What is it?" Jimmy asked. He poked at the glass. It was sticky and Jimmy was quick to wipe his hands on his pants.
"We're celebrating," Chazz said. "It's tequila. Drink it. You'll like it." He then pushed a salt shaker and a small plate of limes toward Jimmy as well.
"What am I supposed to do with that?"
Chazz sighed his now familiar 'that MacElroy kid is hopeless' sigh, and then demonstrated. He licked the side of his hand, shook salt all over it, licked it again, tossed back the shot, and then popped the lime in his mouth. Jimmy eyed Chazz's wet hand.
"Alcohol kills germs," Chazz offered, as though he'd read Jimmy's mind. Jimmy wasn't buying it, but before he could protest further, Chazz grabbed Jimmy's hand.
"Stop," Jimmy said, and tried to yank his hand away. Chazz rolled his eyes, turned Jimmy's hand and then Chazz's big sloppy tongue was all over the side of it.
"Gross," Jimmy gasped in disgust. Chazz started shaking salt all over Jimmy's hand and then shoved a sticky lime into his palm.
"Go," Chazz said.
"I'm not licking that," Jimmy said. "I don't know where your tongue has been."
Jimmy started to stand from the stool, intent to find his coat, the pockets of which contained both sanitary wipes and antibacterial hand gel. What he really needed was a bathroom, but he'd already been in the bar's restroom and had quickly decided never to go in there again ever.
Chazz grabbed Jimmy's wrist and pulled him close, almost tipping Jimmy's stool over in the process.
"It's been in your mouth," Chazz said, his voice low. He clarified, "My tongue, I mean. The other day." He added the last part as though he thought Jimmy might have forgotten it.
Jimmy didn't know if it was the gold medal, or the Iron Lotus, or the reminder of Chazz's kissing lesson, but Chazz had made a good point and Jimmy stared at his hand for a moment before saying "Okay. One. I'll try one."
**
"Jimmy," Chazz hissed. "Jimmy."
Jimmy rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter. He'd forgotten to put in his earplugs.
"MacElroy," Chazz said, louder this time. "Wake up."
"What?" Jimmy didn't bother to open his eyes. He should have. He might have been able to dodge the pillow that hit him square in the face. "Jerk," Jimmy grumbled. He removed the pillow from his head and hugged it, tried to get comfortable again. "What do you want?"
"I have to piss," Chazz said.
Jimmy lifted his head long enough to glare over at Chazz, "So go. I don't need to know about it."
"I can't. My foot is fucking killing me and my crutches are on the other side of the room."
"Chazz," Jimmy sighed, but rolled out of bed. His chest was sore and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. His mouth kind of felt the same. And halfway across the room, he realized he was only wearing his underwear. "Um," Jimmy chirped and looked around for something to cover himself up with. Chazz didn't seem to notice or care that Jimmy was mostly naked. "Where are my clothes?"
"Come on," Chazz urged, reaching his hands out for the crutches. "Now."
Jimmy pushed the crutches toward Chazz, who threw off his blankets and grabbed them. Jimmy turned away so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Jimmy was mostly naked, but Chazz was entirely naked. He couldn't see Chazz anymore, but he put a hand to his eyes just in case.
"This is why there's a rule!" Jimmy choked.
"Oh, shut up," Chazz snapped and shut the bathroom door hard.
**
Early on in their partnership, Jimmy had had to enforce the rule. Clothing was not, under any circumstances, optional at bedtime. If Chazz wanted to sleep naked, then Chazz would be sleeping in another room or at least on the bottom bunk. As long as Chazz was climbing a ladder right next to Jimmy's face, Chazz would be wearing clothing of some sort.
Chazz had agreed to Jimmy's terms, which had been surprising at the time, but it had only taken a day before Jimmy realized his mistake. He should have specified what was meant by clothing of "some sort."
Eventually Jimmy just started wearing an eye mask to sleep.
**
Jimmy didn't suspect anything truly out of the ordinary until they were on the plane, 30,000 feet over one of the Great Lakes. That was when Chazz turned to Jimmy and said "By the way, there's a hickey on your neck."
**
They hit a patch of turbulence just as Jimmy shut himself in the bathroom. His hip smashed into the tiny sink and he reached out to brace himself on the mirror. And then he noticed the dark blotch high on the left side of his neck. He rubbed at it with his fingers, tried to wash it off with some water from the sink, but the mark didn't budge. It was definitely a bruise.
He'd kissed Katie, after the Lotus, and then at the hotel the next day when Katie had come to check on Chazz and to tell them that her sister and brother were still in custody, that they still didn't know what was going to happen, and that she didn't care. Chazz was particularly ornery at that point, having been stuck in the room and awake for four hours with Jimmy refusing to be cooperative, so Jimmy had escorted Katie out to the hallway to talk.
"I'm sorry they tried to kill you," Katie said. She was wringing a jacket in her hands. It didn't look like it was her jacket. It looked like it might be Fairchild's.
"They didn't, really," Jimmy said. "I mean, she just handcuffed me in a bathroom stall."
But it seemed to amount to the same thing to Katie. She stared at the floor for a little while longer and then she looked up at Jimmy with large worried eyes. She was really pretty, even when she was upset. Jimmy liked the way her forehead wrinkled when she looked at him.
"I'm sorry about Chazz," she added.
"Oh," Jimmy looked back at the closed door. "Chazz is fine."
Katie nodded and looked down at the jacket, and then past Jimmy toward the elevator. "I should probably –"
And that was when Jimmy had decided that the best way to comfort Katie, to take her mind off the whole mess, was to kiss her. So he did. Katie smelled nice, kind of flowery and sweet, and her lips were soft against Jimmy's. She seemed to fold in against him and gasped a little when Jimmy touched his fingers to her cheek. Jimmy knew that he was getting it right this time, could feel that it was right as his lips moved against hers. She pressed her hands to his chest and sighed a little when Jimmy pulled away.
It was a nice kiss. But Katie left afterward and Jimmy had only spoken with her briefly on the phone since. She had a lot going on and would be tied up in Montreal a little longer than she had thought. They'd made plans to see each other again, and that was it. Katie hadn't been anywhere near his neck. Which left only one explanation.
**
"Ow," Chazz said when Jimmy returned from the bathroom and pinched his arm.
"What did you do," Jimmy demanded.
"I didn't do anything," Chazz said. Jimmy raised his eyebrows and pointed at his neck. Chazz paused and then his head bobbed once and he said "Okay, yeah. That was me."
"No crap," Jimmy said, and climbed over Chazz to get back to his seat. Chazz didn't make it easy, couldn't seem to get the crutches out of Jimmy's way, but eventually Jimmy was able to sit down and fasten his seat belt. Then he turned back to Chazz. "What happened?"
"When?" Chazz asked. He opened his eyes wide, probably in an attempt at innocent confusion. He looked like an idiot.
"You got me drunk," Jimmy accused.
Chazz made a face. "Oh, come on. You're saying it like I'd need to get you drunk to have my way with you."
"I hate you," Jimmy grumbled. He folded his arms over his chest and slouched down in his seat.
Chazz snorted a little. "Not what you said last night."
"What?"
Chazz held up his hands. "I'm kidding. Nothing happened."
Jimmy looked pointedly at Chazz.
"Nothing except the hickey," Chazz amended. "Which is pretty hot, by the way. You've got a good neck for it. The ladies'll dig it."
Jimmy wasn't an idiot. Women did not "dig" guys with hickeys on their necks.
**
Having Chazz in his life was like being stuck in a never ending headbanger spin. Or like a rollercoaster. Jimmy hated rollercoasters, but it really was just like that. They hated each other and then they were kind of friends. Chazz kissed him, twice, and then Chazz grabbed his girlfriend's boob. They won the gold, Chazz got Jimmy drunk and then gave him a hickey while he was in his underwear. It made Jimmy's head spin.
Jimmy stared at the dense cloud tops outside the window and tried to piece together what had happened after they left the bar. Chazz was snoring in the seat beside him.
He didn't remember how many shots he'd had before the night was over, or what was in the fruity red drink that Chazz had promised Jimmy he would love (he kind of had loved it). He remembered it taking three of them to get Chazz into the cab, but he didn't remember unlocking their hotel room door, or how the heck Chazz had managed to get across the room while Jimmy was still standing there holding his crutches.
He did remember Chazz shouting that he couldn't feel his legs, which probably explained that last part.
Jimmy had set the crutches against the wall. The room was turning just a little. It had reminded Jimmy of learning a new spin.
Jimmy remembered taking off his coat and saying that he thought he was drunk. He remembered that Chazz had some wise retort, and he remembered collapsing on the bed next to Chazz.
The rest of the night was a blur.
Back on the plane Chazz's head fell onto Jimmy's shoulder and Jimmy shrugged him off, pushed him a little so that Chazz slumped in the other direction. He didn't know what he was going to tell Katie. They'd made plans to go skiing, which was good because they'd be bundled up a lot of the time, but Jimmy doubted he'd be able to make it through the entire date in a parka. His hair covered the bruise, mostly, but it still seemed pretty visible. He needed an explanation.
**
"How long does it last?" Jimmy asked. They were in Minneapolis. Their connecting flight didn't leave for another hour and a half. "A hickey, I mean."
"I don't know," Chazz said. "A week or something?"
Jimmy rubbed at his neck. His date with Katie was in exactly three days.
"So how did I end up without my clothes?" Jimmy asked and then added. "Where are the clothes I was wearing, anyway?"
Chazz shrugged. "You took them off."
"Why would I do that?"
"I don't know, Jimmy. Because that's what drunk people do," Chazz said. "They take off their clothes. It's half the reason why anyone drinks in the first place."
"Is that why you made me drink the tequila? To get me to take off my clothes?"
Chazz threw up his hands and stood from his seat, grabbed his crutches. "I'm getting Starbucks," he said and hobbled off. He didn't return until it was time to board.
**
Jimmy came out of the bathroom and found Chazz in his bed. They hadn't spoken much on the remainder of the flight, and by the time they'd gotten back to Coach's house, everyone was exhausted.
"Get out," Jimmy said, and kicked the side of the mattress.
Chazz groaned. "I can't get up the damned ladder. You're switching with me."
"At least give me my pillow," Jimmy said.
Chazz handed him the pillow and Jimmy climbed up the ladder and onto the top bunk. He dropped Chazz's pillow and his fur blanket thing down and then tried to get comfortable. He didn't have his earplugs, or his mask, and Chazz was probably laying on them by now or they'd fallen underneath the bed. Jimmy wasn't about to climb down to look. The bed smelled vaguely like Chazz, which probably should have been gross but wasn't. Jimmy rolled onto his side and wrapped the blankets around his body. Chazz was quiet below him.
The weird thing about Chazz was that he didn't lie often as far as Jimmy could tell. He kind of seemed to Jimmy like someone who would, but Chazz had a tendency to tell the truth, even about the stuff where most normal people would lie. The stuff that you probably should lie about. When Chazz did lie it tended to be about things that Jimmy didn't even think were worth bothering to lie about. Like when Chazz got his tattoo. He had the weird tattoo of Jimmy's face, it didn't really matter when he got it, but Jimmy knew it wasn't as long ago as Chazz said it was and he couldn't figure out why Chazz wouldn't tell the truth about the most trivial part of the whole tattoo thing.
But the hickey and the lack of clothing didn't seem that trivial to Jimmy, and Chazz was still being vague about the whole thing, so Jimmy had no idea whether he could believe Chazz or not.
"Nothing happened?" Jimmy asked, eventually, unable not to. "Really?"
"Jimmy," Chazz groaned. "Come on, man. No."
Jimmy frowned and touched his neck. "Did I like it?"
"Dude," Chazz said. "Do you want something to happen? Cause you won't shut up about it."
"No, I meant, you know, the neck thing. Did I like it?"
Chazz was quiet for a moment and then said, "Oh. Yes."
"Okay," Jimmy said. He wasn't sure why he'd asked. He knew that if it was anything like kissing Chazz had been, then he must have liked it. Once it was started, he'd probably wanted more. That was the thing, really. It wasn't so much that Jimmy didn't trust Chazz. He knew that Chazz wasn't a complete asshole. He knew that Chazz wouldn't do anything that Jimmy didn't want him to do. Jimmy trusted Chazz, but sometimes Jimmy didn't trust himself.
"I can give you a reenactment if you want," Chazz offered from the bunk below.
"No, thanks," Jimmy said, quickly. "Um, did you, you know, like it?"
"What?" Chazz asked. "Sucking on your neck?"
"Um, yeah."
Chazz paused and then said, "Not really. It was okay."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Chazz sighed.
"Sorry."
**
Jimmy tried to steer clear of Chazz, embarrassed that he would have come on so strongly and not even realized it or remembered it. It was a little difficult though, to steer clear, when they shared a room and Chazz couldn't drive and Jimmy didn't really have anywhere else to go. He spent a lot of time skating alone, and a lot of time apologizing a lot. If he bumped into Chazz he apologized. If Chazz disagreed with him, he apologized. If he was in the kitchen when Chazz walked in, he apologized.
"If you don't stop doing that," Chazz said, "I'm going to stick your head in the toilet and flush it. I'm not even kidding."
"Sorry," Jimmy said, and then slapped his hand over his mouth when he realized he'd just done it again.
Chazz's eyes were comically wide, his mouth set in a line. He looked like he actually would have chased Jimmy down and stuck his head in the toilet if he could run, but instead he settled for trying to hit Jimmy in the ass with one of his crutches. It was easy to dodge and by the time Jimmy left the kitchen they were both laughing. Coach didn't think it was quite as funny when he realized that Chazz had broken two glasses and a cookie jar with the crutch.
Jimmy tried to relax after that. The bruise on his neck was slowly fading and his paranoia around Chazz seemed to be dissipating with it. When Jimmy looked at Chazz he saw his friend, his partner. He didn't want to kiss Chazz. He wasn't dreaming about Chazz at night. He was okay. They were okay.
And Katie had called to postpone their date. She didn't sound okay.
"Did you know?" Katie asked. "That my brother and sister were –"
Jimmy hadn't known, but Chazz had. He said he had an instinct about that sort of thing.
"They were so obvious," Chazz huffed when Jimmy expressed his surprise. "They should have just had sex right there on the ice. It would have been the same thing."
When Jimmy had brought it up again Chazz added, "So they made out in front of an arena full of people. They were all French. They loved it."
Jimmy wasn't buying that. He tried to comfort Katie over the phone, but wasn't sure that anything he said had helped. When she apologized and postponed their date, he tried to sound devastated, but mostly he felt relief.
**
"Baywatch is on," Chazz said, when Jimmy walked into the living room and found Chazz sprawled across Coach's couch. Chazz looked Jimmy up and down and then patted the couch for Jimmy to sit.
"I don't like Baywatch," Jimmy said and adjusted his shirt. He'd worn it before and wasn't sure why Chazz had looked at it like it was weird and new. It wasn't the first time Chazz had done that since they'd returned from Montreal.
"You've never seen it," Chazz said. "How do you know you don't?"
"I just do." Jimmy made a face, but crossed the room and settled onto the couch with Chazz.
"This is a good one," Chazz said and squeezed Jimmy's knee before moving his arm to rest along the back of the couch.
Jimmy had a feeling that if Chazz classified it as a good episode, it probably meant someone got naked. Or there was just a lot of running. Or two girls making out. There were quite a few possibilities, really, none of which he was particularly interested in watching.
Chazz was wearing a stretched out black tank top and when Jimmy turned to say something to Chazz he was surprised again to see a bizarre likeness of his own face staring back at him. He must have been staring at it because Chazz knocked him in the shoulder and then tried to run a hand through Jimmy's hair. Jimmy pushed Chazz's hand away and said, "You got that tattoo before we even went to Montreal?"
"No," Chazz said. The show went to a commercial break and Chazz paused, looked over at Jimmy and said, "What? Yes."
"I don't remember it," Jimmy said.
Chazz shrugged, his hand coming back up to touch Jimmy's hair again. Jimmy scrunched up his neck and leaned his head forward, but Chazz was persistent, his fingers scratching at Jimmy's scalp. It actually felt really good, and after another moment of resistance, Jimmy relaxed and let Chazz continue. He settled back against Chazz's arm, and after a few minutes of Baywatch, something about Pamela Anderson and some other woman renting the same apartment, he shut his eyes.
He must have dozed off because when Coach suddenly said, "There better be a coaster under that." Jimmy jumped. He looked around and noticed the sweating glass of soda that Chazz had sitting on the table. It was on a coaster.
Chazz gave Coach a thumbs up and then Coach turned to Jimmy, stared for a moment, and said, "What the hell happened to your head?"
"What?" Jimmy asked.
"Is that your new look or something?" Coach asked. "I don't like it."
Jimmy, flustered, turned to Chazz. "What?" he asked again.
"I think it looks good," Chazz said. The corner of his lip twitched a little, as though he was trying not to smile.
Jimmy jumped off the couch rushed into the bathroom to see what the fuss was about. From the front everything looked pretty normal, but when Jimmy turned his head, his mouth dropped open. Chazz had taken small sections of his hair and twisted them, tight enough that they mostly stayed that way, an odd jumble of blonde spikey swirls.
"Chazz," Jimmy groaned and started undoing the damage.
**
Jimmy's paranoia about the fading hickey returned two days later.
"What?" Jimmy asked when he turned from the stove and caught Chazz staring at him. Coach was gone for a week, some kind of coach's retreat thing with Jesse or at least Jimmy thought that was what Coach had mumbled, and so Jimmy and Chazz were left to fend for themselves. Jimmy was trying to make pancakes.
"Nothing," Chazz said. "Do you know how to cook? Like at all?"
"Not really," Jimmy said. "It can't be that hard." But when he tried to flip his pancake he found that the other side was black and kind of crusty.
"Oops," Chazz said from his perch on the stool.
It happened again twenty minutes later. The pancakes were going better, though Jimmy had had to throw out most of the first batch and then mix more batter, but he felt he'd finally gotten the hang of it. He turned to show Chazz that the pancake was a nice golden brown, almost like it was made in a diner, and caught Chazz staring at his back again.
Jimmy craned his neck and tried to look at the back of his pants. "What?" he asked again. "You've been looking at me funny for days."
"Nothing," Chazz repeated. "I like those pants."
"Oh," Jimmy looked down. They were track pants. They were blue. He wore them all the time. "Thanks."
Later that afternoon, Jimmy caught Chazz watching as Jimmy folded laundry. Even later, Chazz sat on the couch three times, only to call Jimmy over five minutes later so that Jimmy could take his hand and help him back up again. And that evening Chazz hobbled into the bathroom behind Jimmy and slid an arm around Jimmy's waist while Jimmy was brushing his teeth, his hand resting lightly on Jimmy's stomach.
Jimmy spit his toothpaste into the sink. "What are you doing?"
"Let's skate tomorrow," Chazz said.
"You can't skate."
"I miss the smell of the ice." Chazz took a deep breath right next to Jimmy so that in the mirror it looked like Chazz was sniffing Jimmy's hair.
"Are you drunk?" Jimmy asked.
"Would it be better if I was?" Chazz asked, his voice serious.
"I don't get it."
"You're driving me insane," Chazz said, and then released Jimmy. "This house is driving me crazy." He grabbed hold of his leg and shook it as though mad that it could ever betray him this way.
Jimmy frowned. "Are you sure you're not drunk?"
"You know what?" Chazz said, and poked Jimmy's chest with his index finger. It hurt. "I wish I was drunk. I really do. It would explain a lot."
**
After Chazz's outburst, Jimmy made an effort to get Chazz out of the house. He couldn't believe that Chazz waited until Coach and Jesse had left before he flipped out. Actually, he could believe it. It seemed exactly like something Chazz would do. He took Chazz to the public open skate at Denver University to watch kids fall. Chazz had admitted once, before Montreal, that he did this sometimes to boost his confidence. It seemed a little weird to Jimmy, but at least most of the kids were wearing helmets.
Jimmy took Chazz to the grocery store where they stocked up on frozen dinners and cereal. He even took Chazz to one of the local bars Chazz tended to frequent. The bar was having a karaoke night and they sang three duets, but Chazz seemed disappointed when Jimmy refused to drink anything but 7-Up.
And then Jimmy invited Katie home for dinner. He thought it would probably be good to have new faces around the house. He decided he'd make pancakes, since it was pretty much the only thing he knew how to make. He should have guessed how the night would go when Chazz hobbled into the kitchen in his underwear and said, "Breakfast for dinner? Smart."
"Smart? Why?" Jimmy asked.
"Feed them breakfast for dinner and they have no reason to still be here in the morning."
Jimmy shook his head. "Could you please put on pants before she gets here?"
Chazz did put on pants, after complaining for ten minutes that most of his pants didn't fit over his ankle. He chose a sleeveless shirt, which didn't even register for Jimmy until Katie turned to say something to Chazz at dinner and came face to face with a tattoo of Jimmy's puffy distorted face.
"Um," Katie said, suddenly at a loss for words. "Is that real?"
Chazz looked down at his shoulder and then, with his mouth full of breakfast sausage, said, "You bet your butt it is."
"Oh," Katie said. "Um – it's nice."
"Chazz was drunk," Jimmy explained. Or tried to explain, anyway.
"Did you see Jimmy's hickey?" Chazz asked and Jimmy's mouth fell open. Chazz had helped Jimmy cover it with make-up less than an hour earlier.
Katie turned to look at Jimmy, her brow furrowed.
"It's nothing," Jimmy said. It didn't sound reassuring. "Chazz was um – drunk?"
Katie was quiet for another moment and then she took a sip of her glass of milk and said, "So are you guys going to keep skating? I mean now that you've won and all?"
Jimmy looked at Chazz, but Chazz seemed to be ignoring them both now as he shoveled food into his mouth. "Uh, I don't know," Jimmy said. "I hadn't really – I don't know."
"You should," Katie said, quickly. "You guys are so good. I just don't know how you'll be able to top the Iron Lotus, you know?"
Jimmy nodded and poked at his pancakes. Chazz belched and leaned back in his chair, smiled at Jimmy.
Later, after Katie left, Jimmy found Chazz leaning against the fridge eating ice cream from the carton.
"Are you crazy?" Jimmy asked.
"Me?" Chazz gestured toward his chest with an ice cream-covered spoon.
"Yes, you," Jimmy said. "What was that?"
Chazz offered Jimmy the carton of ice cream. Jimmy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Did you bang her?" Chazz asked, as though in the natural progression of the conversation it was a completely normal question.
Jimmy was shocked for half a second and then rolled his eyes. Chazz was doing it on purpose. He couldn't actually be this much of a jerk.
"We were outside for five minutes," Jimmy said.
Chazz shrugged. "So. It probably wouldn't take that long," he reasoned. "The first time usually doesn't."
Jimmy shook his head. "What is wrong with you?"
Chazz shoveled a large spoonfull of ice cream into his mouth and swallowed it before shaking his head emphatically and saying, "Jimmy, man. You don't want to know."
It was small consolation that a moment later Chazz ended up doubled over on the floor with a bad case of brain freeze.
**
Jimmy started looking for apartments in Denver the next morning. He was starting to think the best thing was for Chazz and him to spend some time apart. He'd just started compiling a list of promising leads when he heard Chazz shuffling around behind him.
"What are you doing?" Chazz asked. "Looking at porn?"
"No," Jimmy said. Chazz placed a hand on the back of Jimmy's neck, massaged a little. Jimmy tensed. "Don't touch me."
"Hookers?" Chazz guessed. He didn't remove his hand.
Jimmy looked at the realtor on the screen. His name was Frank. He was a large man with a dark beard and a red flannel shirt. He looked more like a lumberjack than anything.
"He's a realtor," Jimmy said. "That guy looks like a hooker to you?"
Chazz was quiet for a moment, his hand still working at Jimmy's neck. Jimmy could feel himself relaxing involuntarily under Chazz's touch.
"Some people are into that," Chazz said eventually. "Not me, but some people."
"Not me either," Jimmy sniffed.
"I know," Chazz said. His hand disappeared.
"I'm looking for apartments." He showed Chazz his list of numbers.
"They aren’t hookers? Really?"
"We can't stay here forever," Jimmy reasoned. "Sharing a room with bunk beds? We're adults. You're like 40 practically. Don't you want your own place? And Coach. He has a life other than being, you know, Coach. I think."
"I don't think he does," Chazz said.
"Do you even want to keep skating?" Jimmy asked. He turned in his chair so that he could look up at Chazz. "I mean, together?"
"You don't?" Chazz asked. He turned away from Jimmy and hobbled over toward the couch.
"I don't know," Jimmy said. "Katie's right. I mean, other than the fact that we were something no one had seen yet, other than the Iron Lotus, are we actually any good together? We have a year or now almost. If you wanted you could even find a real partner. A woman, even."
"And you could teach Katie to skate," Chazz grumbled quietly, practically throwing himself onto the sofa.
"What?"
"I don't care," Chazz said, louder and clearer. He let go of his crutches and they fell to the floor beside him.
Jimmy flinched. He didn't understand Chazz. One minute Chazz was Jimmy's friend, his partner, and everything made sense. The next he was – well, whatever he was now. And then Jimmy realized that he understood Chazz after all. "Are you jealous?" He asked. "Of me and Katie?"
Chazz coughed and made a big show of shaking his head and waving his hands. "No. Not at all. Nooo."
Jimmy smiled. That had to be it. Jimmy had Katie and Chazz didn't even have his favorite hair brush anymore. Chazz was a sex addict, after all. And despite what Jimmy sometimes thought, there was probably more to sex addiction than an easy excuse to act like a complete jerk to your friends. Chazz had needs and hearing about Jimmy and Katie, seeing Katie, made it worse for Chazz. It made perfect sense and Jimmy turned back to the computer, and began clicking away.
**
Jimmy set the bottle of tequila down on the coffee table in front of Chazz, right in the middle of the game of Solitaire Chazz was playing. Chazz, Jimmy had learned, had a thing for cards. He also had things for liquor and women, so Jimmy didn't feel too badly about interrupting the game.
"What's this?" Chazz asked.
"It's a gift," Jimmy said. He climbed onto the couch beside Chazz, folding his legs beneath him. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it into Chazz's hand.
Chazz unfolded it and looked at the number, then back up at Jimmy.
"Her name is Vera," Jimmy said. "She's free tonight. I spoke to her and she sounds nice. She's waiting for you to call."
"A hooker?" Chazz asked. He looked down at the paper again.
"An escort," Jimmy amended.
"Oh," Chazz said. "Thanks. What's the occasion?"
"Well," Jimmy said. "You're a cripple and all, and you're kind of stuck here with me. And with your addiction – well, it seems like you've been having a hard time is all."
"Oh," Chazz said again. He set the piece of paper on the table and gestured toward the tequila. "Are you going to drink this with me?"
"You're not going to call her?" Jimmy asked. "I thought I'd go and you and Vera could –"
"I'll call her later," Chazz said. "Do you have glasses?"
"Um," Jimmy said, not sure what the problem was. "Okay." He found two dusty shot glasses in the kitchen, rinsed them, and pulled the lime he'd purchased from the fridge. He grabbed the salt shaker on his way past the stove and then returned to the living room.
"Are you going to eat the whole lime?" Chazz asked, eyeing it when Jimmy set it on the table.
"Oh," Jimmy said, and returned to the kitchen for a plate and knife.
Eventually he had everything and Chazz poured two shots of the amber liquid.
"You're sure you want to do this?" Chazz asked, pushing one of the shots toward Jimmy.
"I guess –" Jimmy said, and then nodded, resolute. "Yes."
Chazz held his hand out for the salt shaker, and before Jimmy could really stop to think about what he was doing, he took Chazz's hand in his, brought it to his mouth, and licked it.
Chazz didn't say anything, just watched as Jimmy shook salt onto his hand and released it. He kept watching as Jimmy licked his own hand, salted his own hand, and then held up his shot and looked back at Chazz.
Chazz held Jimmy's gaze for a moment and then he too held up his shot. "Ready?" Chazz asked.
Jimmy nodded and started to bring his hand back to his mouth, but then stopped and said. "I want to keep skating."
Chazz already had a mouth full of salt, and he coughed before saying, "Okay?"
"I mean, together. With you. I want to keep skating with you."
Chazz downed his shot and then grabbed a wedge of lime. "Yech," he said, and made a face. "Then we'll keep skating."
Jimmy smiled and licked the salt from his hand. He took the shot and immediately started coughing, shocked by the burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat. Chazz pushed a piece of lime into his hand and Jimmy popped it into his mouth and it helped, but only a little.
"Tequila is really disgusting," Jimmy noted once he could speak again.
"That it is, my friend," Chazz mused, and then poured himself another shot. He started to pour a second shot for Jimmy as well, but when Jimmy groaned in dismay, he stopped at about a quarter of a shot. "Do that little bit with me and then you're done."
"I don't know if I can," Jimmy groaned.
Chazz made an encouraging face and then held out his hand to Jimmy.
"What?" Jimmy asked, and then got it. He rolled his eyes, but took Chazz's hand and ran his tongue across the side of it anyway. He shook salt on Chazz's hand and then pushed it away and looked up. He repeated the process on his own hand and then knocked his shot glass against Chazz's and drank his tiny quarter shot, his eyes squeezed up and face screwed up as he felt the now familiar burn.
Chazz was still holding his shot and watching Jimmy when Jimmy had finally recovered.
"What?"
Chazz shook his head and then downed the shot. He let his breath out in a hiss and then didn't even bother with the lime. He pointed the empty shot glass toward Jimmy. "You're driving me insane, you know that?"
Jimmy frowned. "Why?"
"Jimmy," Chazz huffed, as though he really couldn't believe that Jimmy would ask such a stupid question.
Jimmy took the shot glass from Chazz's hand and set both glasses on the coffee table. He leaned closer to Chazz and set a hand on Chazz's leg, the way Chazz often did to him. "What happened last week? I swear, I won't get angry. I just want to know."
Chazz removed Jimmy's hand from his leg. Jimmy let it curl into his own lap.
"You kissed me," Chazz said, and Jimmy nodded. He'd known that part. "You were all over me."
Jimmy looked down at the table. "Sorry," he said.
"What? No, don't do that."
"Sorry," Jimmy said again before he could stop himself. "Um, I kissed you. Did – I mean, did we –"
Chazz shook his head and reached for the bottle of tequila again. "You threw up."
"Wait – on you?"
"No," Chazz said. "In the bathroom, mostly. And on yourself a little. I threw out your clothes and dumped water down your throat and dumped you in bed. I really can't believe that you weren't more hungover than you were, man. Minor miracle, that."
"When did you – you know?" Jimmy pointed at his neck.
"Oh, that was before the pukefest. We were still in the bar when that happened," Chazz said. "Body shots, Jimmy. One of the perks of tequila. We just got a little carried away is all."
"Oh," Jimmy said. Nothing had happened. Nothing that he hadn't known. He'd gotten sick instead. No wonder thinking about doing another shot of tequila was making him gag a little. "You're an idiot. Why wouldn't you just tell me that? I've been sitting here for a week thinking – I don't even know what I was thinking."
"You were thinking you'd scored with Chazz Michael Michaels," Chazz said knowingly.
"I guess."
Chazz nodded and took a swig of tequila directly from the bottle.
"You should have just told me," Jimmy said again.
Chazz leaned over and snaked an arm across Jimmy's shoulders.
"Wanna know why I didn't tell you?" Chazz asked, conspiratorially.
"Why?" Jimmy asked.
"Wait." Chazz paused to take another long swig from the bottle. He set it down and then tightened his arm around Jimmy's shoulders. Jimmy wasn't expecting to be kissed. He wasn't expecting it at all, so when he suddenly found Chazz's tongue in his mouth, Jimmy wasn't quite sure what to do.
It felt different than the last kisses, the one's that Jimmy remembered. This one felt like Chazz was taking, claiming. This kiss was better than any of the kisses Jimmy had had before it. He wondered if this was how they'd kissed a week ago. If this was what he was missing. Chazz's tongue slid against Jimmy's and Jimmy moaned into Chazz's mouth, his fingers pressing into Chazz's arms, trying to pull him closer.
It was never like this with Katie. He told himself that he liked that. That he needed to maintain some control. He'd had control over his life for so long, and ever since he and Chazz first ended up on that podium together, Jimmy felt like it had slowly been slipping away. It slipped away completely each time that Chazz's lips met his.
Jimmy wasn't ready when Chazz ended the kiss, and he tried to follow as Chazz pulled away, kissed the corner of Chazz's mouth before he realized what was happening.
"God, Jimmy," Chazz said, so low it was almost a growl. "I want to get into your pants so bad I can taste it."
That snapped Jimmy out of it and he sat up, released Chazz's arms. It was almost the last thing he'd expected Chazz to say.
"What?" Jimmy gasped. He tried to control his breathing. "But I'm a – I'm a guy. I mean – you – you keep saying you didn't. You're not attracted to guys."
Chazz slouched down on the couch, spread out a little. Jimmy shut his mouth and turned away, took a moment to compose himself before looking at Chazz again.
"I'm not into dudes," Chazz agreed. "You though. You I'm definitely into."
Jimmy shook his head. "That doesn't make sense." Chazz's hand crept low on Jimmy's back. His fingers brushed the skin just below the line of Jimmy's shirt. Jimmy shivered. "It doesn't make sense," he said again.
"Are you into dudes?" Chazz asked. Jimmy was having a hard time concentrating on Chazz's words. All he could think about were Chazz's fingers on his bare skin.
"No," Jimmy said.
"But you like kissing me," Chazz reasoned. "You're hot for me, MacElroy."
"I guess," Jimmy started and then shook his head. "You're a good kisser. That's all. You said it didn't mean –"
Chazz leaned in and pressed his lips to Jimmy's neck, just behind Jimmy's ear. He felt the wet warmth of Chazz's tongue against his skin.
"You said you weren't – that you didn't like this," Jimmy said, still trying with some difficulty to form complete sentences. Chazz was tracing intricate patterns along the line of Jimmy's neck and Jimmy's head fell back to give Chazz better access.
"I was lying," Chazz said against Jimmy's skin. He sucked the edge of Jimmy's earlobe into his mouth, hummed a little, and Jimmy, surprising even himself, laughed.
It was all kind of funny, all of a sudden. Chazz's fingers underneath Jimmy's shirt were suddenly tickling rather than stroking. Chazz's mouth on his cheekbone felt strange and kind of funny. Jimmy squirmed and tried to knock Chazz's hands away.
"There's no way you're making me stop now," Chazz growled, confused, and Jimmy thought about saying yes, felt that the moment was slipping away until Chazz shifted, his mouth on Jimmy's Adam's apple, his teeth grazing low on Jimmy's throat and Jimmy gasped, jerked beneath Chazz, surprised by the sudden heat he felt in his stomach. It suddenly wasn't very funny at all anymore.
Jimmy's shirt was pushed up and over his head and Jimmy shuddered a little at the sudden nakedness. Chazz was kissing down Jimmy's chest, tasting Jimmy's skin with a focus that Jimmy had only ever seen while Chazz was skating. Chazz paused just shy of Jimmy's right nipple and Jimmy moaned.
"Don't stop," Jimmy said quickly, unsure if Chazz had understood the previously unspoken response.
Chazz smiled up at him, a crooked smirk, and that was when Jimmy caught sight of the tattoo.
"What about that?" Jimmy asked. He pushed at Chazz until Chazz shifted a little and Jimmy could reach out and run his fingers across the ink.
"I got it the night I taught you how to kiss. In Montreal."
"I knew it," Jimmy breathed.
Chazz kissed Jimmy's mouth and then added, "Last week, you didn't kiss me after the bar. I kissed you. Couldn't help it. I lied about that too."
"Why?"
Chazz shrugged. "I’m a liar."
It was another lie, Jimmy could tell. Or it wasn't, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Jimmy wanted to press, but Chazz's hands were moving again, felt like they were everywhere. Jimmy didn't remember lying down on the couch, or how he ended up completely beneath Chazz. He didn't recognize the noise he made in his own throat when Chazz pressed a hand to Jimmy's groin, the friction causing Jimmy to squirm and arch helplessly below Chazz.
"Don't stop," Jimmy said again. He wrapped a hand around the back of Chazz's neck and pulled Chazz down until their lips met, taking control of the kiss for the first time. Jimmy put everything he'd learned into the kiss, embellished, improvised. Chazz jerked above him, pressed himself against Jimmy's thigh, moaned into Jimmy's mouth.
"God," Chazz groaned. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open just a little. He thrust against Jimmy's leg and then moved down the couch until his head was resting low on Jimmy's stomach, as though he needed a break, just for a moment. "This is so not turning me on at all," Chazz gasped. He couldn't seem to catch his breath.
Jimmy touched Chazz's face, his hair. He closed his eyes, and for the first time, knew that Chazz was as tangled in this as he was. "Liar," Jimmy whispered.
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Date: 2007-05-10 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-10 10:55 pm (UTC)Next part is going to be all internal dialogue from Chazz. ;) We'll see how that goes.
Glad you like the fic!