Work Text:
Shelly Oberon didn’t like walking around Jumanji on his own. He’d been through enough deadly situations to only feel comfortable when Dr Bravestone and Ruby Roundhouse were at his back. But this wasn’t a mission for the famed explorer or the lethal fighter.
No, this was a mission for him.
Shelly looked at the piece of paper in his hand, double-checking he had the right place. He did. Stepping into the dimly lit bar, he found a dark, smoky environment with low playing music that was barely audible over the rowdy patrons.
A shiver went down Shelly’s spine. How many of these men have tried to kill us? It was hard to tell. Van Pelt had hired all manner of men to assist him in his retrieval of the Jaguar Jewel. Nigel had said most of them were only working for him out of fear and wouldn’t cause any problems now that he was dead.
Shelly thought that was cold comfort when he was walking alone into a bar.
But Nigel had given him the directions and explained why he was needed. Shelly wouldn’t turn his back on a friend who required his help.
Shelly squinted and scanned the room. It didn’t take long to spot a familiar leather jacket. Seaplane was slumped over the bar with a glass curled in one hand. Shelly’s heart momentarily sped up at seeing the handsome young man. Yet, a second later it clenched and fell. Unlike his usual happy, mischievous features, Seaplane looked miserable and downtrodden.
For a moment, Shelly doubted he was the right man for the job. But Nigel’s words rang in his ears.
Professor Oberon, I fear you are the only one who can help our young friend. He is in danger of harming himself and requires your assistance to save him from a most dreadful fate.
Shelly had been shocked by Nigel’s worried confession.
While it had been unusual for Seaplane to disappear directly after a mission, Shelly had been the only one surprised and disappointed. But, Shelly never liked to show his fondness for the young, attractive man and so, had pretended not to be bothered either.
Secretly, he had been upset to think that the flirtatious pilot had slipped into the arms of one of the many beautiful women in Jumanji. There was no shortage of people who wanted to thank their group for saving Jumanji.
Even he had found men and women who would welcome him into their beds. He’d refused, of course, but he could understand how tempting the offers could be. He had seen Ruby accept multiple times. But she had always had a more open-minded and unattached approach to sex.
Shelly wasn’t the same, especially when he knew, deep down, that his heart had already been stolen by the most handsome man he’d ever met.
Shelly had fallen for Seaplane and he’d long given up calling himself a fool for it. His feelings couldn’t be forgotten or overwritten. He had accepted it and done his level best to keep the pilot from knowing about them. The last thing he wanted was to make the younger man uncomfortable.
Shelly knew Seaplane would not hate him; the man was too kind-hearted for that. But he would reject him and it was the pain and embarrassment that Shelly couldn’t stand. He was no person’s ideal partner. He was no Smoulder Bravestone and his affections, no matter the light one looked at them under, were pathetic. He was middle-aged and rotund. Seaplane would never think of him as anything other than a friend.
And that is what I’ll be; a friend.
Shelly stiffened his shoulders and walked determinedly into the bar. He noticed a few people glancing at him, but no one made a move to stop or attack him. When they realised that he was heading for Seaplane they all seemed to lose interest. He was very grateful for that. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation when he didn’t even have a weapon.
When he reached the bar, Shelly hesitated, but Seaplane didn’t look away from his drink. He didn’t seem to notice that someone was at his back. It was extremely concerning.
“Jefferson?”
The pilot turned his head, surprise mixed with sadness in the young man’s eyes.
“Shelly?”
Pulling out the barstool next to him, Shelly took a seat.
“It is not like you to be so careless, Jefferson,” Shelly chastised softly. “You did not know I was here until I called you. What if an enemy had found you first?”
Jefferson turned back to his drink.
“Could be worse,” the man murmured.
“What could be worse than an enemy?” Shelly asked, incredulously.
Jefferson’s lips twitched. “A bad idea.”
He brought his drink to his lips and tipped back all the alcohol in a single swallow. Shelly’s eyebrows rose. He knew Jefferson liked the occasional drink, his margaritas were famed around the world, but he’d never seen the man drunk.
“Jefferson…”
Shelly didn’t know what to say. He was friends with the pilot and they got along well.
Jefferson made Shelly laugh when he felt weary and afraid. Shelly had consoled Jefferson when their helicopter had almost crashed, killing them all. It hadn’t been the pilot’s fault, but he’d blamed himself and Shelly had made sure the young man knew nobody held him accountable.
Shelly couldn’t count how many times the two of them had drifted together over the campfire to discuss their various travels and passions. Jefferson was always interested to hear about his studies, and while he couldn’t understand the pilot’s thrill-seeking nature, he listened eagerly to Seaplane’s tales of death-defying flights.
All of those moments and conversations were when Jefferson was sober and when he knew the cause for the man’s melancholy. Now, he felt completely out of his depth.
That feeling didn’t change when Jefferson turned from the bar to hold Shelly’s gaze. His normally light, amused brown eyes were dulled by liquor but still intense. Despite the alcohol he must have consumed, his voice wasn’t slurred.
“Wanna fuck?” he asked.
Shelly’s eyes widened and his breath stuttered.
“I-I beg your pardon?”
“Do you want,” Jefferson repeated, saying each word slowly and concisely, “to fuck?”
Shelly’s mouth fell open. His brain completely incapable of thought. He’d had dreams where the young pilot desired him, but he’d never allowed himself to think too much about them. The idea seemed too ludicrous and impossible.
“W-What?” he finally managed.
Jefferson’s eyes fell away from him. His lips pulling down and his earlier weariness and depression returning tenfold.
“Figured you had to find me a little attractive,” Jefferson murmured. “Thought maybe you looked at me. Pretty good at telling when people like me, you know?” Jefferson placed his head in his hands. He looked beaten. “Such a fucking bad idea.”
Shelly was trying to get his thoughts in order. Trying to understand what was happening. His heart was pounding but he tried to dismiss his own hopes. Surely, Jefferson did not want him? No, clearly, the alcohol was making him feel insecure.
Is this what Nigel feared?
Had Jefferson propositioned the field guide as well? Did Nigel worry that Jefferson would wind up in the wrong person’s bed while intoxicated? It would account for much. It also made sense why he wished for Shelly to help. Smoulder and Ruby would not have the patience to gently coax Jefferson out of the bar. Mouse would merely listen and let Jefferson drink himself to sleep.
It was up to him to console the young pilot and keep him safe.
And keep him from learning the truth.
“Jefferson,” Shelly said, keeping his voice soft. “You are a very attractive young man.” Jefferson lifted his head, he looked hopeful and eager. Shelly’s stomach twisted. “There are ample women and… men in this bar who would not hesitate to be with you.” He carefully reached out and patted the man’s shoulder, hoping to keep his actions looking platonic. “You have no need to doubt yourself.”
Jefferson groaned and he dropped his forehead to the bar. The thump was loud enough to hear. It must have hurt and Shelly felt worried he’d said the wrong thing. He moved to pull his hand away but Jefferson darted out and caught it. Shelly froze.
Jefferson turned his head on the bar. He pulled Shelly’s hand forward and placed it on his cheek. Jefferson closed his eyes and sighed.
“J-Jefferson?” Shelly asked, his voice turning high-pitched.
Jefferson’s eyes opened. He looked at Shelly with a crushing sadness that ached Shelly’s heart.
“I’m good in bed, Shelly. Promise.” He closed his eyes. “Couple of drinks won’t change it.”
Shelly’s mouth felt dry, but he didn’t remove his hand.
“I believe it is more than a couple, Jefferson. You must have been here for two hours!”
“Yeah,” Jefferson said quietly. “Liquid courage.” He laughed harshly. “Then just drinking. God, this is a bad idea.”
“If it is a bad idea, perhaps we should leave the bar.”
Shelly glanced around nervously, but they were still being ignored.
“Not going unless you go with me.”
“Well, of course, I’ll-” Shelly stopped his instantaneous agreement when Jefferson opened his eyes. There was arousal and desperation in them.
“Not unless you’ll go with me, Shelly.”
Jefferson took Shelly's hand and slid it down his cheek towards his lips. Shelly felt them brush his palm before he yanked his arm away. His heart was pounding and the feel of Jefferson’s lips felt branded on his skin.
Jefferson closed his eyes and groaned. He turned his head until his forehead was pressed against the bar again.
“Fuck,” he cursed again. “Fuck, Shelly. Come on, please. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about me at least once.”
Shelly felt as if any answer he gave would be the wrong one.
The truth would be that he had thought about it hundreds of times, only to quickly silence and ignore those thoughts. Something that Jefferson would not enjoy learning when he was sober.
Denying it and saying that he had never thought of the young pilot would be by far the safest option, but Jefferson seemed so achingly desperate for some kind of reciprocation. Lying to him would be cruel.
It left him with no recourse.
“You are an attractive man, Jefferson,” Shelly said carefully. “I doubt there is anyone who would say otherwise.”
Jefferson’s hands came up to his head, they pulled at his hair in a way that looked painful.
“Fuck. Fuck. I’ve fucked everything. And you don’t… you’ve never.”
His voice was getting rough and pained. Jefferson was in pain and Shelly didn’t think.
“Well, I mean, perhaps not never.”
Jefferson’s head jerked and he looked at Shelly with wide eyes. Shelly immediately flushed.
“Well, I, uh, I mean, you are handsome. And,” he took off his glasses and avoided looking at Jefferson. “Well, I-”
Shelly’s mouth snapped shut when Jefferson moved. He pushed into Shelly’s space, almost leaning off his barstool. His hand pressed to Shelly’s thigh and he was so close that Shelly could smell his cologne and the leather of his jacket.
“If it’s once,” Jefferson whispered. “I’ll take once.”
Shelly didn’t get to reply before Jefferson closed the last of the distance and kissed him. Shelly gasped with surprise and Jefferson pressed even closer, trying to deepen the kiss.
He tasted like whisky and smoke. Briefly, instinctively, Shelly kissed him back. Jefferson groaned and grasped the material of Shelly’s shirt. It made Shelly's eyes snap open. He pulled back and hastily shoved his glasses back on.
Jefferson just leant further against him. He pressed his head to Shelly’s shoulder and sighed.
“Once,” he whispered, like it was the answer to all his prayers.
Shelly spluttered. “J-Jefferson. What? Why? You kissed me!”
“Mm,” Jefferson hummed. “And you said once.” He laughed and nuzzled his face against Shelly’s neck. “Means I can make it twice. Going to fucking try.”
Shelly’s lips parted and he looked down at the young pilot with incredulity. Drunk or not, Jefferson had kissed him, was cuddling him and had sworn to… make Shelly think of him amorously.
Shelly could not dismiss all the evidence being displayed for him. His heart fluttered and his stomach twisted. He dared to wrap his arm around Jefferson’s back to better support the man as he pressed against him. Jefferson sighed again, his earlier drunken melancholy making way for smiling contentment.
Perhaps Jefferson never propositioned Nigel after all. Perhaps, his tongue was merely loosened around the field guide. The way it has loosened around me.
“I think I will go with you tonight, Jefferson,” Shelly said quietly.
He felt Jefferson suck in a breath, but he would not raise the young pilot’s hopes.
“And if you are still… inclined this way in the morning. We will speak about it again.”
Jefferson didn’t respond, but he sought out Shelly’s hand and clenched it tightly in his own. Shelly squeezed back gently before helping the young man to stand so he could lead him out of the bar.
It certainly wasn’t what Shelly had expected after his discussion with Nigel, but Shelly couldn’t say he was disappointed.
In fact, with Jefferson clinging to his side and holding tight to his hand, Shelly felt remarkably hopeful about what tomorrow might bring.
Perhaps his feelings would not lead to pain and embarrassment. Perhaps together, they would find a path to happiness.