Work Text:
Jonah opens the door to see Brian, about to burst into tears and holding his backpack to his chest like he needs to keep it close or he'll die. It's empty—why is it empty?
“Jonah,” Brian starts as he steps inside, “We can't do this anymore.”
Jonah startles as soon as the words come out of his mouth. “Wh- Good evening to you too? Bri, what's up?” He replies but Brian doesn't even stay to hear him, briskly walking up the stairs and turning like he's going into Jonah's room.
“What the hell? Brian, don’t go in my room without my permission!” Jonah yells up the stairs, yet he still follows him, confused.
When he opens the door, he finds Brian rooting through his drawers, on the prowl for something he seemingly doesn't even know he had. His wild, kinetic energy has been replaced with something more frantic, almost panicked. Like if he doesn't find what he wants, he might just combust. Jonah can't tell if he's acting or not, so he figures he'll join the scene.
He tiptoes towards Brian, unaware and kneeling as he roots through every item of clothing he can get a hold of. Slowly, he goes down- until he loops his arms around Brian's waist (Brian doesn't even notice) and pulls him up with a grunt, drawing a shriek out of the other. Using all of the force he can muster, Jonah throws the both of them hard onto his bed before Brian gets a chance to protest. Jonah has him pinned, now.
“Jo, we can't-” Brian chokes as the moment finally hits him. Jonah’s as handsome as ever above him, pinning him, staring at him fondly like he wants to worship him, but now's not the time. God, he didn't want to cry but now he's not so sure he can hold it back much longer. “We can't do this. I can't- I don't want- I do want to, Jo, but we. We need to stop. Please—get off of me.”
“What's wrong?” Jonah questions, worried. Brian looks like he's about to tell him his own mother died or something. But still, he falls to Brian's side on the bed, turning to face him. “Are you okay? Do you wanna cuddle? If I did something wrong, you can tell me, I promise. I don't wanna hurt you, Bri.”
Brian seems to shrink into himself at Jonah’s words. “No, Jonah, you're perfect. So, so perfect. It’s almost annoying how perfect you are. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” He lets Jonah wrap his arms around him, melts into his touch. He's always been quite a bit larger than him, but all that size practically makes him a human teddy bear. He's warm, made up of soft, rounded curves, unlike Brian. Brian's tiny compared to him and has always been narrow, sharp angles, lean and flexible like a dancer should be. Somehow, his lithe body houses a powerful voice and energy to spare, which he guesses is a fine trade-off for looking about the same as he did when he was seven, but taller. Even the people in his junior year still get him mixed up for a freshman. Jonah, however, is starting to grow a beard, which Brian is simultaneously thankful for and jealous of. God, how he wishes he had any indicator that he was older. But he's grateful, because Jonah's fuzzy all over and a dream to cuddle as they both ponder in the uncertain silence.
Jonah speaks first, with a soft kiss to Brian's cheek and a question Brian doesn't know how to answer. “Is there a reason you came over to root through my stuff? You joining the groundhogs next year or...?”
Brian stiffens immediately. Yeah, fuck, he forgot he was here for a reason. He untangles himself from Jonah and takes his leave from the bed to confront his two options. Option one: he could just Russian roulette this thing, tell Jonah why he's here, hope neither of them cry, take what's his, and leave. Or, option two: leave Jonah and his memories here and disappear without a trace. The latter sounds more pleasing when he puts it like that, but he would never be able to live with himself. He couldn’t just leave Jonah hanging forever, no matter how much they do so all the time just to annoy each other for fun. He wouldn’t be so cruel. He owes Jonah a real explanation.
He loads the gun.
For possibly the first time in his life, he’s standing as still as a statue. But, within his peripheral vision he thinks he sees a hand (he thinks it’s his) raise a sleek, silver gun and point it directly at Jonah's chest. Just pull the trigger and hope you aren't responsible for the body.
“I—uh, I'm,” Just pull the fucking trigger, Brian. “I'm leaving, Jonah. We can't be together anymore because I'm moving.”
Jonah feels like he's been shot.
He can't move his body, can't speak, can't do anything but stare. Stare at Brian like he just whipped out a fucking gun and fired a quick round into him. He… can't believe it. He’s not sure if he wants to believe it. He wants to ask if this was a dare that someone at some party or something put him up to but he can't find the words to put in his mouth. Of course, Brian has never been one to back down from a challenge. But Brian would never hurt him like this for some stupid joke, would he? Would he, Jonah? Why isn't Brian laughing and exclaiming that he really got you good this time, Jonah?
“Don't look at me like that, Jo,” Brian finally speaks after what feels like a lifetime of silence. His voice breaks somewhere in the middle and Jonah can tell he's using all the restraint in his body to contain himself. He's being serious.
He finally snaps out of his shock, but finds that he left all his words there except for one.
“Brian…” He whispers, finally, and he guesses the bullet must've ricocheted back, because in an instant Brian crumples to the ground. Nothing more escapes him except for loud sobs. Fuck. Jonah finds the strength to unstick himself from his bedsheets and slinks down to the floor, following him. He tries to hug Brian but it doesn't work very well, because Brian's sobbing into his hands and they’re both in awkward positions, but he needs to touch. To give any indication to either of them that this is really happening. That this is real life. He settles for sitting between Brian outstretched legs and putting his head atop Brian's, so that he's properly swaddled within his touch. But, fuck, Brian burrows his head into his chest and grabs at his shirt like he’s hanging on for dear life and the sobbing only gets harder. It's all too much, this whole thing is entirely too much, so Jonah cries too. He just tries not to let Brian notice.
They stay like that for a while, until Brian finally calms down just enough to say something. “I don't want to leave,” he hiccups between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-”
“It's okay, baby,” Jonah whispers into his hair as he rubs slow circles into Brian’s back. He hopes he can't notice the unsteadiness in his voice, especially as he says, “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
Brian makes a sound like he just got punched in the gut. “That's what I was afraid of,” He exclaims, and pulls at Jonah's shirt like it's a lifeline. “God, Jonah, take a fucking hint.”
There's a pregnant silence as they both come to terms with what Brian said. Jonah's sure that if Brian pulls any harder, he's going to tear his shirt, but he doesn't care.
“Okay, I took the hint,” Jonah says. “Still love you.” He hates to break the position they have going on right now, but he scoots back, prying Brian's hands from his face and taking them in his. Brian looks so disheveled and sad, and there's an undertone of fear in his countenance. “I love you and I always will no matter what, Brian. I love everything about you and that's never gonna change.”
Tears well up in Brian's eyes once again. “You're not supposed to be this sweet to me before I leave forever,” He whines. Jonah pulls his hand away to cup Brian's face.
“Maybe not, but I don't think I could ever be mean to you on purpose. Well, in the beginning I was, but that's only because you were being an asshole on purpose so you could get in my pants,” He smiles. “I don't know how it worked.”
Brian nuzzles his face into Jonah's hand and attempts the best smile he can manage whilst looking like he got hit by a truck. “I think you just wanted to get your pants off.” They both dissolve into giggles and Jonah leans forward so he can rest his forehead on Brian's.
“Fortunately for you,” Jonah says, then takes a breath. “Where are you moving to? I bet we could make this work.” Brian coughs.
“Uh. Maine,” He whispers, like he'd much rather get hit by a real truck than say the name. Jonah lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief and leans back like the weight of the world was lifted off of him at last.
“Are you serious? I thought you were gonna say you were moving to Alaska or something!”
“Don't make fun of me,” Brian whines, and pulls Jonah in by the shirt so he can kiss him. Jonah happily follows and rests his hands on Brian's waist.
“I'll make fun of you all I want when I drive up there every other weekend,” Jonah chuckles. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing I guess, fuck, dude,” Brian responds hastily. Eventually, he leans back, letting himself drop onto the floor. “Will you really come see me every other weekend?”
“Not every other weekend, I don't think my car would survive that, but definitely often. As often as I can.”
Brian nods and lets the room fall into silence. It's different, now; there's an air of despondence, but that same casual coziness they've always had is creeping in and stomping it out. It's beginning to feel like everything’s going to be fine again, because somehow it always is with them.
“Jonah?” Brian asks.
“Yeah? Oh shit, I'm still sitting on your legs, I'm sorry,” Jonah realizes, and then stands in favor of the (much more comfortable) bed. He helps Brian stand, then pushes him towards the bed with a giggle, earning an annoyed look from him that doesn't last more than two seconds.
“I was gonna say thanks, ya know,” Brian teases as soon as they’re under the covers.
Jonah hums. “For what?”
“Dunno. For not being an asshole just then, I guess,” Brian huffs out a laugh. “Thanks for that.”
“‘Course,” Jonah responds, wrapping his arms around Brian and pulling him in close. “You’re an idiot and a total himbo, but I would never hate you for anything. I care about you too much to get angry at you.”
“Gross,” Brian says. “Don’t get all sappy on me, Jonah Scott.”
Jonah laughs. “Well sor-ry, mister! I can’t help it, Bri, I only have two moods.”
“Then how come I only see one of them most of the time?” Brian questions as Jonah presses a kiss to his forehead.
“‘Cause you’re annoying most of the time,” Jonah says matter-of-factly. “I don’t even know why I like you.”
Brian brings his hand up to trace Jonah’s jawline. “You like me ‘cause I’m stupidly hot.”
“Yeah, stupid is right,” Jonah teases whilst he leans into Brian’s touch. Brian gasps and immediately takes his hand back.
“Jonah! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Brian huffs overdramatically.
Jonah merely groans. “Bri, I kiss you with this mouth.”
“Hmm, maybe so.” Jonah cups Brian’s face with his free hand and leads it up to his, kissing him long and slow. When they finally break for air, Brian just stares at him fondly.
“It’s a shame you kiss like a dream with that horrid face,” he smiles, and steals another kiss.
“Aw, Bri, you flatter me,” Jonah sighs. “If you keep doing that, I might just have to force you to go to sleep.”
Brian hums, liking the sound of that. “Make me.”
“‘Kay.” Jonah untangles the both of them and turns over, fully depriving Brian of any physical contact.
“Jonah Scott, you nasty player!” Brian gasps overdramatically. “Fine, but I didn’t want to have to do this…”
Brian turns and snakes his arms around Jonah, but he only just barely surrounds him as the big spoon. The turn of events elicits a laugh from the other, and he flips back to face Brian once again. “Knew ya couldn’t resist me.”
“Oh, I definitely could, you would just whine about it all night if I did,” Jonah kisses Brian on the forehead, “and I wanna go to sleep.”
Brian groans. “Now we’re sleeping?”
“Yeah, and I’ll drive your ass home if you don’t go to sleep soon,” Jonah says. “Goodnight, Bri.”
“Goodnight, my sweet,” Brian coos cheesily, and earns a kick in the shin for it.
Jonah rolls his eyes in the dark. “‘Night, bastard.”
If Brian mumbles “I love you” ten minutes later when he thinks Jonah is asleep, Jonah never tells him he hears it.