pairing: implied jesse/lint
disclaimer: this is complete fiction, which means it (sadly) never, ever happened. don't sue. i have nothing you want anyway.
word length: 974
a/n: i wrote this a few days ago but didn't really know where else to post it, so i joined this community. there are other 'punk' slash communities but no one seems to want to read op ivy anymore. hopefully someone here enjoy it.
for a pg, it's not exactly fluffy and cute. still it's a lot more...jesse than i've ever done. please don't hate me if i've fucked up his character.
Just like an orgasm, Jesse could feel it coming before it hit. He stood on a makeshift, plywood stage in another small club. Legs spread slightly, a microphone brought up to his lips, he watched a dozen or so kids thrashing around wildly in front of him. Another dozen were farther back and split up-half hanging around the entrance looking cool and smoking cigarettes. The other half not quite brave enough to get into the pit, but still enthralled with the Berkeley band. As the words spilled passionately out of Jesse's mouth something started to hit the crowd, just as he foresaw. All at once, the contagious passion swept over all the people in the room - the band included, and everyone was connected. It was rare, deep and beautiful. Jesse had never seen it happen anywhere else but at concerts. He assumed at that brief moment that was what church was supposed to be like. A connection of beings and spirit. Lint's bright eyes caught Jesse's and he smiled as he flopped and writhed around on the stage . . . all in true Lint style.
Then the moment was gone as quickly and mysteriously as it came. They had sold enough T-shirts that night for a full tank of gas and a stay at a motel -if they shared two rooms and skipped dinner. It was a great night for Operation Ivy. For the people who witnessed the show.
* * *
"Matty?" Jesse walked up to his friend, hands deep in the pockets of his tattered jeans. They were outside the van, in an empty parking lot. Jesse could hear some girls flirting with Dave and Lint off in the distance, the sweet giggles and the too-loud-"oh-he's-so-dreamy" sighs.
"I need to . . . can I tell you something strange?"
"Jesse. Everything you tell me is strange," Matt replied in good nature. He chuckled but stopped at the serious, almost shy look on Jesse's face.
"I think something is happening to me." Matt's face changed, became almost unreadable to Jesse. Both boys shuffled their feet before Matt spoke.
"Dude, it's just puberty," he said and laughed loudly. Jesse looked confused but before he could respond Lint ran up from behind him and jumped on his back. Suddenly the night was playful and happy again. They all climb in the van talking loudly.
Jesse was left wondering, in the few moments before they pulled into the cheap motel, whether Matt had honestly not wanted to hear what Jesse had to say, or if he had seen Lint coming and knew it wasn't the right time to get into it. He didn't have long to dwell on his thoughts before he was pulled into a musty smelling bedroom with Lint.
* * *
They lay shirtless on top of the bed. Lint had complained earlier of the heat, but when Jesse gently mentioned that summer was almost over he quieted. The room was silent for a long moment, before Lint shifted and mumbled something about sleep. Jesse nodded his head in the darkness, knowing Lint would see, and guessed it was probably about two or three in the morning. Lint was the first to remove his jeans. Jesse followed his example before they both flopped down onto the bed in their boxers.
There was a small noise and Jesse opened his eyes. He was unaware that he had closed them, he guessed his sleep had been deep and dreamless. It dawned on him that Lint was now pushed up against his side letting out small whimpers. Unsure of what to do, Jesse trailed his fingertips over Lint's back and arms.
"Mmugh. Ugh, bad dream," Lint said with a half-coherency he was known for. Jesse chuckled and rubbed Lint's back in what he hopped was a comforting way. Tonight he didn't want to push him into anything. They still had enough nights together. This wasn't the right time.
"Wanna tell me about it?"
"Nah." Lint never spoke about his bad dreams, even to Jesse, who he told everything else too. Maybe he was waiting for Jesse to push to subject, to demand the knowledge. He never did. In a twisted way Lint saw this as Jesse caring less for him than he cared about Jesse. Though it was hardly the case. Still, it would be a year before this lack of communication began to really corrode their delicate [yet undoubtably strong] relationship.
There was a comfortable silence before Jesse began to speak. Years later, long after 'Lint' had died and the band had crumbled like an ancient artifact not meant for the modern world, (even after Brody had gone), Tim would still remember Jesse's words with an eerie clarity.
"I feel like something's happening to me. No. No, I know that there's something happening. Something deep inside me. When we're on stage, when we're all playing and there is that perfect moment where we connect. You know?" but Jesse's words were flowing fast and he didn't bother waiting for a reply from his friend. "I can feel that happen before it happens. I think I can see it. I'm starting to believe in destiny, in a way I never did before. That maybe this whole thing - Operation Ivy - is bigger than us, bigger than what we can understand. I think there's something inside us, like a magnet, that's connected us and given us this passion. I feel it, I know others feel it, but I don't think it's ours. I think we're just renting it from some force that's bigger and stronger than us."
Jesse bit his lip, hopping Lint would just take this as an early, early morning ramble and not think he was crazy. His fears were soothed when Lint's calloused hand landed on Jesse's stomach and slid up to his chest - right above his heart.
"Jesse? I always knew you were special."