My RENT inspired self has now been able to write this piece for my sister's soon to come series, The Rootbeer Chronicles! YAY!
(Rootbeer is AnzaxWayne is AxW is Rootbeer!)
RATING: T, because of mature themes.
DISCLAIMER: Fillmore is owned by Scott Gimple. (Look at the café name! XD) Jonathan Larson owns RENT, and I'll Cover You and I Should Tell You. Yuh.
However, plot is mine. PH33R ME.
SUMMARY: Trusting desire, starting to learn. Amidst a scandal, Joseph Anza takes another chance with love—with no stakes.
Trusting Desire
"I've been welcomed to the world of brokedom. Happy birthday, Wayne." sighed Joseph Anza half-heartedly. He'd lost his allowance due to his "scandal" and it just had to be exactly when it was his best friend Wayne Legitt's birthday. Now, he was splayed on Wayne's grey duvet, disappointed at his lack of a gift.
Wayne scruffed Anza's hair a bit. "'Tis okay, boy." But that just made Anza pout more, which Wayne found... cute?
Well, well. He just gave the letters OMG new life. Mr. Lifeguard-slash-Babe Magnet Beta (Alpha was Anza) who was as straight as the lines on Raycliffe's pinstripe coats, was suddenly gooey towards his Alpha? That's something.
...wait. He's my best friend. BEST FRIEND. Dammit. What the hell was that? Wayne scolded himself, his chiseled features sinking for a split second. He snapped out though, after Anza suddenly spoke.
"Wanna grab a bite or something?"
"Let's do Gimplescott's."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Not far from Wayne's home was a small bar named Gimplescott's. It was their prime location whenever they wanted to talk, eat, and of course, drink. They'd been going there since 6th grade, so it was definitely a memorable place for them.
And it would later be even more memorable. Way more.
The two bored teens made their way to "their" seats on the rustic wood-and-marble bar and summoned Alvie, who just happened to be handling the late afternoon shift.
"Yo Al. Dole me a coffee. With a shot." Anza said, desperately needing the warmth of the house specialty. Despite his infamous leather jacket and a headwarmer, he was freezing his ass off due to the November snow. He then snuck a side glance at Wayne, for some reason. He noticed something... different about his long time best friend. Different in a good way, but yes, different. Underneath the slightly smoky haze of the cafe's stained glass lamps, Anza saw that Wayne actually looked... beautiful. Not the girly type of beautiful. The kind that you see, girl or otherwise, when you have an attraction to the person...
Attraction? To his best friend? Anza almost choked on his drink. That was fifteen seconds of thinking he never wanted to experience again.
Unless, of course, Wayne would think the same thing.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
After an hour or so of hard drinks, the two got bored, and yes, slightly drunk.
Downing his last shot of brandy, Anza motioned towards what he called the Vintage Corner, a... corner, of course, where a television playing twenty-four-seven musicals and old films and a jukebox, alongside a bunch of old but clean furniture, were situated. The corner was decked with old vinyls, as well as random family portraits and such. It felt like being with a close relative -- despite the musty smell, it was still comfortable, and the perfect place to watch the hours go by.
"Waynerz. I'm bored. Wanna do the juke?"
"Let's go, bro."
Alvie couldn't help but be amused with the two.
They walked the distance from the bar to the VC, and at one point in their seven-second-walk, Anza's hand accidentally collided with Wayne's back thigh. Both blushed slightly, but stiffened up, and refused to let it get to their heads. At least, while they could.
Anza sunk half-drunkenly into a patched up sofa, and Wayne sat on the chipped blue painted barrel beside it.
The two remained silent, mindlessly staring at RENT, which was playing on the old TV set. It was the scene where two guys... eh, one guy and a drag queen, were singing about their love and something about '1000 sweet kisses', which made Anza and Wayne twitch slightly, but otherwise, they still said nothing.
Finally, one of them dared to move. Wayne was feeling the effects of his umpteenth shot, and he suddenly started feeling drowsy.
"Joe. I'm sleepy." He yawned, leaning on Anza's shoulder. He responded by enveloping him with his arm in a big-brother manner. He couldn't take it anymore. Within a day and ten shots, he was falling. Again.
All of a sudden, his better judgment bolted him up.
It was this same mistake that had almost cost him his dignity.
FLASHBACK
We were on top of the bar, half-naked. I requested the owner guy to keep it open, with unlimited drinks, of course.
Slowly, I lunged in for her halter top and fumbled with the cloth keeping it together. Damn, drinks and complicated girl clothes don't mix.
Finally I got it off. At the same time, she'd stripped me of my boxers, the second to the last piece of virginity I had on me. This was it. I was a man now. She straddled the cream-colored bar top and grabbed a hold of the pipes on top, and did this really hot lap dance. I sat there in awe, simultaneously guzzling down a bottle of Romane. She clawed at my neck and she kissed it hungrily and I felt her up every place imaginable. All this alcohol...
My vision blurs and the only thing I see is her and me, making love like there was no tomorrow.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The afternoon after our splendid hookup, I went over to Fillmore's to brag.
"Yo F. Had the best night ever. With Tehama, of course. Sexy in school, fuckin' HOT on top of that table. We got drunk and shit. Best night ever. And guess what? We did the deed. And, damn, was it go--"
Fillmore cocked his head. "Did you guys use protection?"
My face paled. Holy crap. "...er. Of course we--"
"Joe. You're not a very good liar, you know. And you're not a very good guy, either. If you got her--"
"She is NOT pregnant, Cornelius Fillmore."
"One can only hope."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
TEHAMA'S POV
Ingrid Third pulled me into the girl's room shortly after Chem, which was a class we shared. I was scared at whatever she was going to say, since she only does this when she has bad news. Last time, she said that O'Farrell turned into a Frank Bishop groupie. I could only imagine what today's horrors would bring.
"K." she said, unlatching the lock on her black knapsack. "Let's go into the stall. This is private."
I gulped, following her into the handicap stall.
"K," she repeated, "dig your hand into the bag and take out the most peculiar object you find."
After some shuffling, I settled on the Nars compact, but immediately changed my mind when I felt a familiar box. One I'd felt before... in Mom's maternity cabinet?!
"Ingrid. I never thought..." I said, holding out the box. Fact Plus, the label said.
"It's not for me."
I froze. Oh shit.
"It's for you. Take it now."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
I stepped out of the stall.
"Ingrid, I'm ready."
She hugged me before taking the cup and extracting the dropper from the box.
Here it goes...
Oh my God. I can't believe this.
"K. I'm sorry." Ingrid said, tears escaping her eyes as she embraced me like only a sister would.
END FLASHBACK
"I can't fall. Not anymore." Anza muttered softly.
"Fall for who?" Wayne asked, apparently being able to hear.
"Anybody. Not after... the scandal."
The fact that Anza couldn't fall for anyone broke Wayne's heart. With all his courage, he asked, "If you won't fall, will you let someone fall for you?"
Anza was caught off guard. He was an interrogator; he knew that Wayne was the 'someone' who would fall. Suddenly, everything changed. Wayne Christopher Legitt, his friend of seven years. His sandbox playmate. His cartoon buddy. His alter ego. His confidante. Best friend... and now, something more.
Then he remembered the piercing sound of Tehama's scream when the strip said positive. Amazing how a piece of filter paper can change one's life forever. For some reason, he heard Wayne scream that way in his head, only worse.
He shifted his gaze back to his dozing friend. How nice he looked with that natural smirk that was a hundred-percent Wayne. Those enchanting hazel orbs. That handsome face.
"Let who fall?"
Wayne slowly got up from his alcohol pseudo-coma, and with his courage and pride on the line, looked Anza in the eye. "Me. I'm falling for you."
Anza had seen it coming, but it was different experiencing it. Granted, it was weird, because he was straight, but now... he couldn't have cared less. "If you're falling... I've fallen. Ever since."
"But you said--"
"To hell with what I said." Anza took Wayne's cold, red cheek into his and slowly pulled it closer, until they were only an inch away. Then out of the blue, he let go of him.
"What?" Wayne asked, clearly crestfallen.
"Listen to the song." He gestured to the TV, now showing two figures walking in the snow, singing what Anza felt but couldn't say, and what Wayne wanted to hear.
"Trusting desire, starting to learn
Walking through fire without a burn
Clinging a shoulder, a leap begins
Stinging and older, asleep on pins
So here we go..."
"Happy Birthday, Wayne." Anza said, just before planting a warm kiss on Wayne's mouth.
ANG ASENSO KO.
Translation: I can do oneshots now! WOOT! XD
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