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Tonight was like any other night for the pogues. A kegger and lots of illegal substances. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Except for how JJ could not stop his heart from racing anytime Pope’s shoulder nudged him in the back of the twinkie. He almost made him and Kie switch seats, because oh my god, he couldn’t take it any longer.
But they were pulling up to the bone yard, so there was no point.
JJ scrambled out of the twinkie first, desperate to get away from the weird feeling inside him. He swiped the joint Pope had tossed on the floor earlier on his way out. He was certainly not letting it go to waste.
Especially not tonight. Especially not with...whatever this was.
Hey it was you
JJ, try as he might, could not come close to describing the feeling. It was an odd ache in his heart, a swell of butterflies in his stomach like he was on a rollercoaster.
What was this feeling? What was it about Pope that was making him feel this way?
His heart raced when both him and Pope’s hands touched as they grabbed stuff out of the trunk. He stepped back, breath catching in his throat.
What. The. Fuck?
He let Pope grab stuff. He just stared and watched.
He watched Sarah and John B’s hands meet as they grabbed supplies from the trunk.
He watched Sarah’s face flush pink, and watched the way John B’s attention snapped over to her instantly. The way the both lit up like a fire. His best friend grinned, leaning over to kiss his girlfriend.
He looked away, eyes trained on Pope as Kie helped him move around the trees.
“You okay, JJ?” Sarah asked. John B was already following after Pope and Kie, the group laughing.
Sarah’s face was laced with concern.
“I...actually I don’t know,” he admits, looking up at her.
He tucks the joint behind ear and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts.
“What’s up?” Sarah asked.
Sure they didn’t spend much time with just the two of them, but he liked her well enough. She was a pogue, just like the rest of them. She was one of the best things to happen to John B. She always seemed genuine in her concern.
Maybe that’s why he leaned against the twinkie, and for once in his life didn’t fucking lie about what was going on in his head.
“Pope’s been making me feel weird all night,” JJ said, frustrated. He tugged at his hair.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” JJ said. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s weird.”
You confuse me
You do
“He’s been putting me on edge all night. Like I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack when he sits too close,” JJ vented. “I don’t know why. And it’s only him. No one else is bothering me!”
“A panic attack,” Sarah echoed, tilting her head.
“Yeah. Like my heart stops working properly. A-and my stomach feels like I’m going to be sick,” JJ whispered.
“You’re nervous around him,” Sarah said. “Maybe you two just need some space. You all spend all your time together anyways.”
“No. I don’t want space, I want to be near him, I just--I don’t want to feel this...freaked out,” JJ rambled. “What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I’m sick.”
“Can I ask you something?” Sarah asked, leaning against the truck next to him.
He looked over at her expectantly.
“Do you like Pope?”
“Of course, I do, he’s my best friend, Sarah,” JJ said instantly.
“No, J, I mean...like...like him,” she elaborated. “Like romantically.”
“Like...Oh,” JJ whispered, looking down. “Did John B tell you--”
“John B didn’t tell me anything. I was just asking,” Sarah amended. “Swear it.”
Not that long ago, JJ had arrived on John B’s doorstep drunk and crying. He’d run off in a fit of anger as he normally did. He came back and was instantly crying in John B’s arms, drunk out of his mind as he confessed that he was in fact, not straight.
John B brought it up the next day, assured him the secret was safe with him. JJ tried to block it out.
He tried to ignore this issue altogether, especially with his father around. His father, not surprisingly, was a rather homophobic man.
Though JJ never mentioned his own interest in the same sex to his father, his father made it very clear that he didn't like that lifestyle. It made JJ feel sick.
He buried it so deep down. Slept with every girl he could on the island. A few kooks looking for adventure, a few rich house wives he mowed lawns for. Any woman that would have him.
He didn't want to give his dad another reason to hate him.
He worked so hard to make sure it didn't happen. So why is he sitting here, thinking maybe Sarah was right?
And I hate that it's you
But there's nothing I can do
“JJ?” Sarah asked. “You okay?”
“I like him?” he asked, looking up at her.
Sarah shrugged. “I can't tell you that. That's up to you.”
JJ grabbed his lighter and the joint. He was far too sober for this shit.
“What if I do like him?” JJ asked, blowing out a puff of smoke. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Again, that's up to you. You know you've always got our support, though,” she said. “No matter what. Now let's go have a good time.”
She started walking towards the others, waiting for JJ to catch up.
JJ lingers at the outskirts of the party all night. He hangs out with Kie when she’s not dancing with Sarah, hangs out with John B when Sarah’s dancing with Kie. He avoids Pope like the plague.
It all feels too much for him, but god he wants to be near him. He wants to be near his best friend so much it terrifies him.
He watches his friends from the other end of the party, chugging drink after drink after drink. He ignores every girl that comes up to him.
He ignores everyone, at one point.
So drunk. So confused about all the feelings mixed up inside of him.
He only pays attention to Pope.
And god, he hates himself, hates himself, hates himself. But he can't help it.
He asks Pope to dance with him. He knows he's being drunk and stupid. He knows he’ll hate himself tomorrow, he already does now.
He suppressed the self loathing with alcohol.
He shamelessly wraps his arms around Pope while they dance. Pope stares at him with wide eyes.
“You've been acting weird all night,” Pope says, not attempting to pull away. “You good?”
“No,” JJ laughs bitterly. “I'm quite miserable actually.”
Pope frowns with concern.
“No! No frowning,” JJ whines. “You're supposed to be having fun.”
His heart is racing a mile a minute. His hands are shaking and his words are slurred. Everything feels a bit blurry.
God he wants to kiss him.
He thinks hard about it, watching Pope’s lips.
I know nothing
Will come of this
JJ steps back suddenly. He stumbles fast away from Pope, away from the others as he throws up on the beach.
A moment later someone is shoving a water bottle in his face. He looks up and of course it's Pope taking care of him.
He looks away.
“Maybe we should get you home,” Pope said gently.
JJ takes the water, sitting back in the sand, away from his vomit. He drinks, still unable to look at the boy standing in front of him. He can't do it.
“Back to the chateau. Are you okay to walk?” Pope asks.
JJ nods.
He feels absolutely miserable. Mentally and physically. He just wants to sleep and hope that he's had so much to drink that he won't remember this in the morning.
He pushes to his feet a bit unsteady. Pope reaches out to steady him and he feels like his whole body has ignited.
The world started and ended where Pope touched him.
All he did was hold onto his arm, start guiding him down the beach. JJ’s mind was buzzing a million miles a second. He couldn't focus on anything else. No matter how hard he tried.
He couldn't form words to thank Pope as they walked down the beach. He couldn't even think straight (pun intended).
I feel my fame
Out of my voice
Pope helps him up the steps of the house, down the hall to the guest room. JJ watched Pope take off the combat boots he’d worn that day. He felt like he was floating.
The butterflies in his stomach had infected his mind.
“Hey Pope,” JJ said softly, words still slurred.
“Yeah, JJ?” Pope asked, taking off JJ’s hat and pulling back the covers for him.
“You’re...you…” JJ shook his head, not sure what he was trying to say.
He stared up at Pope, head tilted as the boy sat down next to him.
“You okay, J?”
I want you to want me
And I feel like you might want me
JJ looked over at him. “What are you doing to me, Pope?”
Pope raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“You make me feel...You make me feel Pope. Tell me you feel it too, I can’t be the only one feeling like this,” JJ said urgently, moving to sit on his knees.
“J,” Pope said, “You’re drunk.”
“Because of you. Because of whatever you’re doing to me,” JJ confessed, eyes searching his face. “Tell me I’m not going crazy here, man.”
“You need to go to bed. We can talk in the morning,” Pope said gently. “I promise.”
JJ frowned but nodded. “In the morning.”
Pope nodded, helping him under the covers. JJ curled up under the covers, curling in on himself. He looked up at Pope, grabbing his hand.
“Will you stay?” he asked quietly. “Just until I’m asleep?”
Pope nodded. “Course, J. I’m always here for you.”
Pope sat next to JJ on the bed, watching the blonde relax into his pillow. He reached up and gently combed his hands through JJ’s hair. The boy smiled sleepily, leaning into the touch.
God, they would have to talk about this in the morning. Both boys ignored that for now, in favor of each other's company.
-
JJ doesn't really remember much of his night when he wakes up in the guest room at chateau to the smell of breakfast and coffee. Who the hell was cooking?
John B didn't cook.
He had tried once for Sarah and nearly burned the house down.
Sarah had never cooked before. It probably wasn't Kie, she had plans with her parents this morning.
Pope?
Was Pope making breakfast?
He stumbled out of his bedroom, head pounding. Sure enough, Pope stood there, shirtless as he moved about the kitchen. There was a mug of coffee and a plate set out at the table already.
Hey it was you
“Pope,” he said quietly, watching the boy turn to face him.
His stomach swirled with butterflies at the sight. How had he never noticed Pope was so beautiful before? How had he missed this?
Was he so busy burying this part of him that he missed it?
He hated himself for it. To have taken it all for granted.
“JJ, you okay?” Pope frowned.
JJ’s face warmed (was he fucking blushing?) as he realized he was staring. Oh god.
“Sorry. Hung over,” JJ lied with ease.
“I made you some breakfast,” Pope said. “You were kind of a mess last night.”
He pointed to the food on the table. JJ sat down in front of it but just stared at it. He didn’t touch it.
“Was I?”
He remembered talking with Sarah. He remembered throwing up. Everything else feels like a blur. He looked over at Pope.
“Yeah, you were being weird,” Pope said, setting his own plate of food down next to him.
You confuse me
You do
“You...Do you remember talking to me last night?” Pope asked quietly.
“No, I specifically remember doing the opposite,” JJ finds himself admitting.
Pope smiled, a bit sadly. “Yeah. You did do that.”
“What did we talk about?” JJ asked, leaning forward.
“You...you asked me what I was doing to you,” Pope says softly, looking up at him through his lashes.
JJ felt like he might throw up right then. Maybe it was the hangover. It had to be the hangover...right?
“Oh,” JJ said quietly, barely above a whisper. “Listen, I was drunk…”
“JJ,” Pope said.
“No,” JJ said louder. “I was drunk. Didn’t know what I was talking about!”
He stood up, pushing the chair away from him.
“It’s okay,” Pope told him, also standing up.
“No, I can’t...God, I’m not,” JJ whispered, the sobs bubbling up in him before he could stop himself.
“JJ, it’s okay,” Pope said again, reaching out to him.
And JJ let him pull him into a hug.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
JJ cried into his shoulder, body shaking. He hated this feeling inside of him.
The complete inability to deny that he did in fact like--no, perhaps love was a better word-- Pope Heyward. Loved him in a way that he’d always been taught not to love another boy.
But god help him, god help the butterflies, the thundering of his heart. It was all for him.
And I hate that it's you
For Pope.
For his best friend.
He pulled back from the hug.
“I’m sorry,” he said for only Pope to hear.
Pope shook his head. “JJ?”
“I-I really like you, Pope. I tried to ignore it and I just couldn’t do it any longer and I’m sorry if you don’t want--”
“JJ,” Pope said again.
“--to be friends with me now. I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t blame you really. I hate myself so much. I tried so hard--”
“JJ!” Pope said louder, voice echoing in the kitchen.
JJ looked at him through blurry vision.
“Shut up,” Pope laughed gently, leaning forward to kiss him.
At first, JJ, frightened by this new territory, pulled back. His eyes were wide as Pope watched him carefully. Then, he chased the fire that ignited, chased the butterflies in his stomach.
He stopped running and embraced it. At least for now, for this moment, as he kissed his best friend, he let himself be...him.
He didn’t try to bury it. God, how could after this?
He was done fighting it. There was no part of him that could deny the love he felt for Pope Heyward. And he wouldn’t want to.
But there's nothing I can do