Chapter Text
The night after finding out about what happened to John B and Sarah, I stayed the night at Pope’s place and it was so damn nice. I've personally never been used to anything other than dysfunction, so seeing Pope's parent interact with their son with such unwavering love, concern and heartbreak was a bit blinding so damn intimate. And when they pulled me into that hug,and I was able to get a taste of it I couldn't tell if the tears where solely over the fact that I just lost one of my best friends or because I knew I'd never feel this again. Because I knew what awaited me, when the storm cleared and I had to go home. Of course when I did make it home my dad had awoken from his drug/alcohol stupor and he was pissed. He gave me the ass beating of a lifetime, when he realized I stole the key to his boat and handed them over to John B.
Since then I've been a held up at John B’s place, part of me secretly wishing that he’ll show up one day with a 6 pack of beer, and a hell of a story to go along with it. I mainly stays there so I don't have to face my so called father, after the first beating two days went by before he realized again what had happened and I was awarded another beating.
I had planned on working at Heyward’s with Pope, but ever since that night Pope’s dad has been a lot nicer to me. And frankly I was afraid that he might start asking questions about the bruises, and the last thing I needed or wanted was to be shipped of to the main land for two years in foster care until I hit 18; cause let’s face it only perverts adopt 16 year olds.
So I spends my days lounging about, sometimes on the hammock sometimes in the jacuzzi, and waits for the sun to come down. Waits for Pope to come.
Pope who never left. Always a constant person, hell, a constant thing in my life.
John B was gone. John B was dead.
Both Pope and I have came to an agreement and just acknowledged it one drunken night in the jacuzzi; cause we figured if he wasn’t dead he would have reached out to us. Why hasn’t he sent for us?
Would I even go? It’s not like John B and Sarah would have the damn gold, it’s long fucking gone, but Sarah’s parents have money. If they made it, he’s sure she could have walked into a bank and took out some of her savings and finesse that shit. But nothing. No calls and the only mail, are pass due bills.
But the answer to the question now is...no. Fuck, anytime before the past three weeks, you couldn’t have kept me from saying yes. Not having to deal with my shitty ass ‘father’ and surfing it up with JB. Yeah so maybe we’d have to hustle a little bit, maybe do some scamming shit but fuck it! We'd be living free, and living up to expectations. And yeah I’d miss Pope, cause I'd know he’d never leave with us with zero promises of any type of proper life or future. And who knows what Kie, would have done? Who fucking knows Kie?
After all that shit, she dipped back to Kook land and we haven’t seen or heard from her since. She doesn’t even work at her dads restaurant anymore. I don’t know if it’s because she can’t cope, or maybe she thinks being around Pope and I will make it harder to cope, but fuck that. We’re all hurting! We knew him longer then her anyways; me longer than Pope. Me and John B where so close, I let him name me.
Well obviously not actually "name" me, but we weren’t about to be called the “Johns” our entire lives, so he figured ‘I already go by John so you can’t. But your name is Jonathan James Maybank...just go by JJ.” And I’ve never looked back.
And I honestly don’t hate Kiara, I really don’t, and I knew it was inevitable that she was gonna go back to the Kooks cause that was always going to be her life and this ours. Come senior year, she got parents who can ship her off to wherever she wants to go, and we'd still be here trying to figure a way out. So I always knew she'd leave but just not this soon. Not when we needed her most
Pope had a way out and he jeopardize it for friendship; something that still keeps me up at night thinking about.
But that’s whatever, cause I have Pope and he has me. He even spends the night over here with me sometime, though he never actually stays inside his house. He’ll literally only enter if he has to go number two, and I make sure to rag on him about when he does. No mostly when Pope comes to stay the night with me, oddly enough we sleep in John B’s van.
We where certain after watching all those cop movies and tv shows, they where gonna take it and strip it looking for evidence or some shit but they never did. And Pope knew where John B stashed the backup key, so he have sleepovers in a dirty rusted ole VW, and wake up with the worse back pain but can't wait for the next meet up.
And thought we have the keys, we’ve never said fuck it and drove off into the sunset together like Thelma and Louise; whoever the fuck they are.
No we don’t drive, hell we barely turned the damn thing on when we’re in it. Sometimes the quietness is louder then bombs, and anything to distract them is a need so we'll cut the engine on and some shitty ska song will come on and we can take a breath. And even when shit gets uncomfortable and hard, the fact that Pope is there it doesn’t even matter. When Pope is there talking about Doctor Who and random statistics of random shit, it feels alright. More then alright, it feels good and like home.
Pope is my home. And Pope does feel good...smells good too. Must be some type of lotion or maybe body wash, cause on the few times Pope has been able to sneak up on me, the wind was on my side and it sent a breeze through and I could smell the scent of honeysuckle and sandalwood. And sneaking up on me should be impossible seeing how I gave Pope my bike so he’d have a way to get to work, to get to me, and not to have to rely on his dad so much. But it does happen...he must cut it off a certain amount of feet from the house, there’s no other way.
And it turns out today was one of those days. It was only half past three, and normally Pope doesn’t get off until six, so I took out HMS Pogue to catch some dinner for him. For us, dinner for us.
Fuck I’m sounding like a damn housewife.
I had my back to the house pulling the boat, on the normal spot, when I felt two hands on my shoulder. I instantly freeze thinking the worst. The Cameron’s more specifically Rafe, have high tailed it back to their mansion on the mainland, but we still keep a eye out for our unfriendly neighborhood drug dealer Barry. Fucking Barry.
But I quickly realized it was my Pope.
“Asshole, don’t scare me like that. And what are you doing here so early, I’m not even set up and ready.”
“It’s so dead, up there it’s crazy. I told you, before Sarah’s family left the island they were spreading rumors and shit to other Kooks about me knowing John B and me being a possible co-conspirator and since then they haven’t been placing orders.”
“Damn man that sucks. Those Kooks get away with literally murder, and instead of just dipping out they wanna come and start shit with. Taking food off y’all plate.”
“There is one good side to all this though. Well before all this shit happened, a couple of people placed some fancy ass orders that they paid for, but have refuse to pick it up or be dropped off so we have inflated inventory.”
“That’s dope, man I’m sure your dad can flip it.”
“Hell no he can’t, none of the damn local here are gonna pay ten dollars for a pint of ice cream, bro. So he let me take it.”
“Ten bucks for a pint of ice cream, those motherfuckers are sick in the head.”
“You’re lucky, I have zero hand eye coordination otherwise I would have eaten this on the way here. I’m starving. Let’s just have dessert first.”
“Yeah, go ahead and open it and turn on some tunes, I’m gonna get the fire started real quick and gut the fish.”
It had only took me a few minutes to take care of everything and by the time I made it to the bus, Pope had eaten all the damn ice cream.
“Are you shiting me right now, Pope. You pig.” I grabbed the container and held it up, to taste the melted drops of sweet creamy melted ice cream. “Bro, that shit was delicious. You ass.”
“It really was good.”
“Yeah, I can tell you’re face is covered in it, dick. How the hell did you eat this without a spoon?”
“I have a rather long tongue, and it was partially melted so I mostly slurped it.” Pope slide his tongue out his mouth, and tried to lick the remainder remnants of ice cream from his face.
I wasn't sure what came over me, but watching him just stirred something deep inside my body and I seemed to move on automatically.
My hands on either side of his face, and my mouth hovering over his until I threw what very little caution I had to the wind and kissed him. I kissed Pope and he let me.
And where we come from and how we where raised he shouldn't have. This is North Carolina we’re talking about it apart of fucking Bible Belt. Damn near everybody in the Cut are Baptists, and I honestly can’t claim to know any out gay guys in the surrounding area. Maybe up in Kookland, hoping to seem progressive and modern, but not here. Shit I’ve personally seen kids who where just suspected of being gay, damn near get they heads bashed in. Hell I remembered getting worked up and pissed when my dad, would insinuate I was gay and I made damn sure to be seen with as many girls as possible.
And I’d rather die, then admit my father was right about anything, but he might have been onto something about that gay thing, cause I’ve kissed my fair share of girls and it’s never felt like this. I’ve never gotten hard off just a kiss.
“JJ.” I instantly stilted getting ready for him to say this is wrong, a mistake, and to act like this never happened.
“Hey JJ, do you think you could take off your shirt?”
“Absolutely.”
“And can I give you a hickey?”
“Absolutely.”
“And do you have any blunts anywhere, I-“
“Pope, please! This is a lot I’m taking in right now, just give me a second. And while I’m taking this second maybe, take your shirt and pants off too.”