Archive of Our Own

“Curls. Curly.”

With a soft grunt, Curly’s eyes flutter open, bleary and vision blurred as he raises his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes. The sun shines through brightly from the window, curtains pulled open and the light framing his face in a soft golden glow.

As his vision adjusts, Jimmy’s face comes into view, expression unreadable as he moves back slightly from hovering over Curly.

“Jim? Something wrong?” He asks with a groggy voice, shifting to sit up properly in his bed and stretching his arms. Having been flatmates and best friends for years, Curly knows it’s rare for Jimmy to be awake before he is, and it's even rarer that he comes into Curly’s room to wake him up. Suddenly, Curly can’t help but assume the worst. Was Jimmy drinking again?

“Are you okay? Are you drunk? Is Polle okay?”

Jimmy rolls his eyes, no heat behind the gesture, as he bends down to pick up their Maine Coon from the floor, Polle purring softly in Jimmy’s arms. “Yes, we’re fine. No, I’m not drunk. I just figured you might want to check your phone.”

“My phone…?” Curly raises an eyebrow, yawning as he reaches over to fumble for his phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up, and suddenly he’s bombarded with notifications. “Jim, what – ”

“Mouthwashing was a hit,” Jimmy cuts him off, sitting on the edge of Curly’s bed with Polle in his lap as he strokes her fur softly. “It’s all over the internet. We did it,” He looks at Curly, an uncharacteristic yet pleasant smile on his face.

Curly stares at Jimmy for a moment, eyes shifting back down to his phone as he quickly searches their movie up on the internet.

“The others will be here any minute now. Daisuke could barely hold back his enthusiasm upon seeing the news this morning.” Jimmy continues to speak, that subtle, fond smile still on his face while Curly still sits in his bed, processing the news.

That’s when the doorbell rings, and Curly snaps out of the rush of thoughts in his brain. Speak of the devil.

“That’s probably them,” Jimmy stands up from the foot of Curly’s bed, placing Polle back on the floor so she can walk to the front door. “I’ll go let them in while you freshen up.”

“Wait, Jim – ” Curly calls, stumbling out of bed before Jimmy can turn and leave, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing firmly. “I’m proud of you.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen slightly, cheeks darkening noticeably and Curly has always found his inability to take compliments from him sweet, enjoying how awkward Jimmy is when he’s flustered. Before either of them can speak, the doorbell rings again repeatedly and Jimmy sighs, muttering under his breath about Daisuke’s impatience while Curly watches him go with a quiet huff of laughter.

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Curly returns to the living room of their apartment, taking his seat next to Jimmy on their loveseat across from the larger couch where Daisuke sits in between Anya and Swansea.

Jimmy had gone to film school and had been passionate about movies for as long as Curly can remember. He mainly did script-writing and directing for smaller and short films, but he’d been desperately chasing the opportunity for a big break. One night, at 3 am in the morning, he had stumbled into Curly’s room and shaken him awake, claiming he had the perfect idea for a film. At first, Curly thought he was drunk and tried getting his friend to go to bed, but Jimmy had been brainstorming movie scripts late at night after a bout of frustration and writer’s block before writing the script for Mouthwashing. He insisted Curly was the only one who could help him.

Curly was an engineer working for a freighter company, and Jimmy roped him into the project to help him with set design. Then, Curly had casually mentioned the film project to his friend Anya who he’d met in university. She was pursuing a career as a therapist, and she volunteered to help with costumes, design, and the artistic elements of the film, having been passionate about theatre. Jimmy had also managed to recruit the help of a kid in their apartment complex named Daisuke who was an aspiring actor and he pulled in his adoptive father Swansea who was a retired successful actor. With that, their ragtag film crew and cast was complete.

Jimmy handled the script-writing and screenplay, while Curly took charge of set construction and Anya focused on design. When Jimmy was struggling to find suitable actors to hire, Anya volunteered to fill a role in the movie with her prior theatre acting experience. That left the role of the two main characters, one role which Jimmy took and the other he insisted Curly should take. Curly protested, having no experience in acting (or in anything film related, for that matter), but Jimmy had insisted that Curly was perfect for the role. It was difficult running both the film production and acting, along with juggling filming with their main jobs, but somehow they’d managed to finish the movie in a little over a year.

“Good morning Curly,” Anya greets with a smile and Daisuke waves enthusiastically. Polle sits on her lap comfortably while she rubs his head gently. “I take it you already know the news?”

“Yeah, Jim told me this morning,” Curly beams, clapping Jimmy’s shoulder. “Well done, guys.”

“People even noticed my Yimpy easter egg!” Daisuke cheers and Curly can’t help but laugh at Jimmy’s grouchy expression after Daisuke mentions the drawing.

“This calls for a round of drinks,” Swansea grins, ruffling his son’s hair. “And dinner!” Daisuke pipes in, squealing as he attempts to straighten out his tousled hair. “I’ve been dying to go to that karaoke place down the street, I hear their sushi is fire.”

“Dinner’s on Jim then,” Curly nods and Jimmy rolls his eyes exasperatedly.

“Just because Mouthwashing was a success doesn’t mean I’m a millionaire,” He complains lightheartedly. “If I was, I would’ve started looking for a new apartment first thing this morning to get away from this guy,” He jerks a thumb in Curly’s direction and Curly pouts in response before tackling Jimmy on the sofa despite his loud protests.

Dinner goes about as smoothly as it could've.

They’d gone down to the karaoke place Daisuke had mentioned and splurged on food and drinks. Swansea lounges on the sofa with bottles of beer in hand, grinning as he watches Daisuke and a drunk Jimmy sing corny 2000’s pop girl music. Curly takes his time with his beer, lightly buzzed as he sits next to Anya who enjoys Daisuke and Jimmy’s performance and chews on some dumplings. She volunteered to be the designated driver since Daisuke didn’t have a license and she had a few appointments with clients early the next day and didn’t want to be hungover.

“Swansea’s recording them.” Curly comments with a lazy grin as Daisuke hits some high notes, “Man, Jim’s gonna be pissed when he sees that video in the group chat tomorrow.”

“He’s so carefree,” Anya giggles quietly, setting down her plate. “I haven’t really seen him this drunk before.”

Curly hums in agreement. “He’s had a bad relationship with alcohol in the past, so he tries to avoid drinking when possible. Though he does let go for special occasions, like tonight.” He takes a sip of his beer. “How are you feeling, Anya?”

Anya shifts her gaze from the karaoke performance back to Curly and smiles gently. “Happy, more than anything. I’m glad Mouthwashing was a success… we put so much time and effort into it. Especially since I’ve always had a passion for theatre, even though it was something I’ve only been able to do on the side… in a way, I guess I was able to fulfill those dreams through this movie. And people really loved my character in it. It's heartwarming to see all the positive reception.”

“I get that,” Curly hums, tapping on the leather of the sofa. “I never thought I’d be working in the film industry before this. It’s a great feeling to know our hard work paid off. Most of all, I had fun with you guys, my friends.” He shifts his gaze back to Daisuke trying to pull Swansea off the couch and join him in dancing while Jimmy sings into the microphone loudly. “I’m sure Daisuke will get plenty of bigger acting opportunities after this, and Swansea is definitely proud of him.”

As the song comes to an end, Jimmy presses the microphone into Swansea’s hands. “You can take over. I’m gonna go have a cig,” He waves, stumbling towards the door in his drunken stupor.

“I’ll be back,” Curly stands up from the sofa, dusting off his slacks and smiling at Anya. “Gotta go make sure he doesn’t stumble onto the road and get run over by a car.”

“All your vices are coming back tonight, huh?” Curly asks as he steps out of the building, catching sight of Jimmy sitting on the front steps with a lit cigarette in his hands.

“Curls. What are you doing out here?” Jimmy asks, voice slurred slightly as he brings the cigarette to his lips, closing his eyes. Curly steps forward and joins him on the stairs, sitting beside him.

“Just making sure you’re okay. You’re still as big of a lightweight as ever. Seriously Jim, is two beers really all it takes?”

“Shut up,” Jimmy replies as he fishes in his pocket for the box of cigarettes and tosses one at Curly. He catches it and holds it up to his lips, letting Jimmy lean forward to light it with his own. Smoke fills his lungs and his throat burns slightly, an itch crawling up as he pulls the cigarette back in his hand. He hasn’t smoked in years.

“I didn’t know you were a singer,” Curly smirks, knocking his shoulder into Jimmy’s gently, and the latter shoots him an unamused look.

“I wouldn’t have done it if the kid hadn’t forced me to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I didn’t.”

“We all have a soft spot for Daisuke.”

Curly takes another drag of his cigarette, trying (and failing miserably) to blow a smoke ring. He used to be able to do it after lots of practice, but now he’s back at square one. “So, how are you feeling Mr. Director?” He asks, shifting his gaze to the starry night sky. “This is your big break.”

Jimmy shrugs, staring down at his worn gray sneakers against the pavement. “I’m still surprised. I hadn’t expected it to blow up.”

“Is the attention online bothering you? Given all the hate towards your character.” And understandably so. There were some unanimous opinions online about the cast, and everybody collectively hated Jimmy’s character in the film. Curly would too, if the movie was real. But all he can see is his best friend, drunk and worn out, smoking a cigarette outside the karaoke bar beside him. He feels a little warmth inside, mixed in with his concern.

“What?” Jimmy turns to him, surprise on his face. “...No, I mean,” He sighs, running a hand through his messy brown locks. “It doesn’t hurt. I agreed to play that role, after all. I deserve the hate.”

He does. You don’t, Curly wants to say.

“Besides, all that hatred just means I played my role well. You think I could join Daisuke in the acting world?” Jimmy asks with a lazy grin and Curly flicks his cigarette in his face, making him scowl. He’s deflecting, but Curly knows not to press. He just hopes his company will help ease his best friend’s worries.

“Hmm. Well, I’m trying to imagine you in a rom-com and I think you’d be a shit actor,” Curly replies with a grin, putting the cigarette out on the concrete and leaning back on his hands as he gazes absent-mindedly at the stars.

“What, you think I can’t kiss?” Jimmy asks with a frown, and Curly wants to laugh at how serious he looks. Jimmy is funny when he’s drunk.

“I dunno Jim, can you? You’re like a grumpy workaholic. Scary and mean. And awkward. I swear I’ve never seen you go on a date before – ”

Curly is cut off by a sudden warmth against his mouth, and his voice dies out. Jimmy’s lips are dry, slightly cracked, and he reeks of booze. It barely even counts as a kiss – he’s so drunk he ends up going for the corner of Curly’s mouth instead. But it’s enough to shut him up, for him to feel a hot warmth rise and color his pale cheeks red in the cool night. He's glad it's dark outside.

Jimmy pulls back as suddenly as he tries to kiss Curly.

“Shit,” He says, voice hurried and laced with panic. Curly watches him shift further back, running a hand through his long hair and biting his lip. He can practically see all the thoughts rushing through Jimmy’s mind as he stands up abruptly before his dizziness nearly sends him crashing down, and Curly catches him. He snakes an arm around Jimmy’s shoulders to support him, steadying them on the pavement.

“Sorry,” Jimmy says. It’s a quiet murmur, and Curly almost doesn’t hear him. He still doesn’t know what to think of what just happened. Jimmy tried to kiss him?

He’s just drunk. A small voice says in the back of Curly’s mind. It doesn’t mean anything. And maybe Curly should feel relieved, but all he feels is disappointment.

Whatever. That’s something for him to worry about another day. For now, Jimmy is drunk and panicking and Curly knows that this is where they call it a night and head back home.

Curly texts Anya about Jimmy after calling a cab, and Anya tells him that she’ll bring back Daisuke and Swansea later. The ride home is quiet, Jimmy’s head resting against the window, breathing softly. Curly can’t see his face. He has no idea if he’s awake or asleep.

As the cab pulls to a stop in front of their apartment, Curly exits first, walking around to Jimmy’s side to help him out. He protests at first, before nearly tripping over his own feet, and accepts Curly’s help. With an arm around his shoulders, he pulls them both to the elevator, and then to their front door. Jimmy hands him the flat keys and Curly unlocks and opens the door.

He walks Jimmy to his bedroom, across the hall from Curly’s, and helps him onto his bed. As Jimmy shifts under the covers, Curly examines him briefly.

“You feel okay? Do you need water? Are you hungry?”

“‘M fine, Curls. Thanks.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.” Obviously. “Just give me a holler.”

“...Sure.”

Curly doesn’t move. His feet are glued to the ground.

“Hey, Jim?”

Jimmy groans into his pillow. “What now?”

“I meant it this morning when I said I was proud of you. Proud of all of us, yeah. But especially you.”

Jimmy stills in his bed, unmoving, and for a second Curly thinks he’s fallen asleep. But suddenly he moves to sit up, and he starts swaying again. Curly thinks he might flop over like a fish, so he sits beside Jimmy on the mattress, letting Jimmy lean onto him.

“Couldn’t have done it without you guys.” His voice is more slurred than before. Curly knows he’s tired.

“I know. But you made this happen. Your dream came true, Jim.”

Jimmy lets out a scoff, his body dead weight against Curly’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks Grant.”

Jimmy is drunk, and half-asleep, but Curly knows he means it. He feels vulnerable like this, pressed against Curly, voice soft and words garbled. He uses Curly’s first name, and that in itself is enough to let Curly know how serious he is.

“You’re my best friend, Jim.” Curly knocks his head into Jimmy’s gently, pulling him in for a half-hug. “I’m so proud.”

Jimmy doesn’t reply, not verbally anyways. Instead, his fist curls into Curly’s coat, grasping hard as he tucks his face into his shoulder. Jimmy reeks of alcohol and smoke and he’s sweating, but Curly doesn’t feel like pulling back. It feels right, with Jimmy tucked against him like this. It’s where he belongs.

A few moments pass, and Curly comes to the realization that Jimmy has fallen asleep. He smiles fondly at his best friend, gently peeling his jacket off his sweaty body and pushing him down into the mattress before draping the sheets over him. He leaves a glass of water and some painkillers on the nightstand for the raging hangover he knows Jimmy will have the next morning.

Curly returns to his own bedroom, shrugging his coat on the floor. He’s too lazy to undress, and he flops down on his bed, buzzed and sleepy. He doesn’t know if it's the alcohol or the movie success partying or the phantom warmth of Jimmy’s lips pressed against his skin (perhaps all of them combined), but he feels warm and fuzzy inside.

Today was a good day.

Curly falls asleep with a smile on his face.