Series Title: Zero-Zero
Summary: How "Getting Hitched" should have gone… E/J slash
Sequel/Series: 1/4 … Probably. Really depends on where they go from here. Sorry to be vague, but I haven't gotten further than part 3 yet.
Warnings: Slashiness. If that's not your thing, then click "Back" now.
Rating: T. I think. Some mild language, that's about it.
Feedback: Sunshine on the window makes me happy, but I live in Ireland and it's raining right now, so feedback should have the same effect.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. And I mean that both in the sense of the characters and in general, so suing me will get you nothing. Nothing! cue evil laugh
Thanks to Eppy and Wicked Wonder for being beta-rific.
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Chapter 1: Here
Eric:
I'm not too sure how I got here.
Well, that's not exactly right. I know how I got here. 'Here' is my apartment. 'Here' is my couch. The 'here' I'm having trouble with is really more of a 'what'. I'm probably not doing a great job of explaining this. My mind tends to work in a way that's…not exactly normal. "Eric Matthews is bat-shit crazy" is the term used most often, but I don't think of it as crazy. I just see things a little different, that's all. But I guess this really won't make sense unless I start from the beginning.
Looking back, I have Cory to thank for all of this. He was the one who found the apartment, checked it all out, forced me to sign the lease papers. He pointed me in the right direction, then he kicked my ass out onto the kerb and stole my room. Little brothers are fun. But in this case, I really, really owe him one. Because Cory had not only found me the perfect place, he had found me the perfect roommate to boot.
I can't remember when exactly I realised I liked Jack. It's not like being attracted to another guy was anything especially new for me – I've always noticed guys, just like I notice girls, but until now, dating girls had seemed like the easier option, so I just went with it – but this time was different. Maybe it was something special about him, or maybe it was just spending all my time around I guy I was already interested in that boosted those feelings even more. Whatever it was, within a few weeks of moving in I had gone from "vaguely interested" to "full-on crush", and when I get it, I get it bad. I'd find myself completely tuning out whatever he was saying just to look deeper into his eyes. I'd lie awake at night and imagine what it might be like to kiss him, to touch him. I came up with thousands of elaborate plans to find out how he felt about me, even though I knew I'd never use them. Once, and I may never stop being embarrassed about this, I caught myself doodling "Eric Hunter-Matthews" during Calculus class. It's a good thing people already think I'm weird, because otherwise, the sight of some a crazed-looking sweaty guy ripping a page out of his notepad and eating it whole might have made them a little curious.
For a while I thought seriously about moving out. Yeah, I know, it sounds stupid. Crazy even. When you find someone that you care about, that you're attracted to, that you think you might be falling in love with, and you're lucky enough to not only have that person in your life, but to have them living with you and hanging out with you all the time, you enjoy it while it lasts, right? And then you start to see things…little, inconsequential things, that make you think (or hope) that they might just like you back, you take advantage of it. I mean, potential soul-mates don't come along every day – you've got to grab these kinds of chances when they come your way. Life is short, seize the moment, and all those other clichés they keep warning us about in Creative Writing.
But I couldn't. Me, Eric Matthews. Chick magnet in high school, already building up a rep in college, I had never had any trouble asking any girl out my entire life. But this was different. Suddenly, my mind was filled with 'What if?'s – what if he really was just reaching for a book when he brushed off my leg? What if the subtle flirting was just his way of being friendly? What if he really didn't notice how much he was affecting me? What if I told him how I felt and he said "No"? Think about the awkwardness of a friend shooting you down in flames when you ask them out, then quadruple it for the fact that we're roommates – it's bad enough running into an old crush every now and again, without waking up next to them every morning (and not in the good way) – and then mix in a few "straight guy terrified of other guys coming on to him" vibes. Clearly, there's no way we'd come through something like that with our friendship intact, and that's assuming he'd even want to be around me after I screwed it all up. And, while this may sound hokey, I didn't want Jack to not be in my life any more, so when it came down to a choice between keeping him as a friend and risking it all for the sake of some half-imagined signals, there was no real question about it. But while I knew I couldn't ever do anything about it, that's the calm, rational way of thinking about things. There were still a lot of times when living with him was hell, when I felt like smacking him across the head and screaming "Are you blind, you idiot? I'm in love with you!", and after a year of it, I was just about reaching breaking point – even if I had to move out, I'd have done it if it meant hanging on to him.
So, when we traded in Shawn for an older, funnier, more attractive female roommate, it was perfect. Here was someone I could channel all my feelings into, transfer my embarrassingly huge crush onto without having to worry about driving away someone I cared about too deeply. And when Jack decided that he liked her too, it seemed…right, somehow. Damn if I can explain it, but the two of us going after the same girl made us closer on some level, while giving me enough distance from him that I could convince myself I was over him. And the best part was, I didn't even have to worry about the moving on part – anyone could see that Rachel was far more interested in Jack (not like I blame her or anything), so I could flirt with Rachel 'til the end of time and tell myself I was past it all without actually having to do anything. I've always been good at finding shortcuts, sidestepping the difficult stuff to avoid anything resembling hard work, and now I had found a quick-fix for getting over someone.
And then Chet died, and everything changed again.
The last few days have been a complete blur. The one thing that stands out clearly is how well Jack kept it together – I guess he was trying to be strong for himself and Shawn. But then, tonight, Rachel left to go and get some takeout for dinner, and for the first time in a while it was just the two of us alone in the apartment. And as we sat there talking on the couch, it all came spilling out – how much this all hurts, how lonely he feels, how much he regrets not getting to know Chet better, all the stuff you'd expect from a guy who just lost his father. And watching him rocking back and forth, too drained to even cry any more, it seemed like the only natural thing to do was to hug him, to pull him close and whisper into his ear how it's going to be OK, how brave he is, how he's surrounded by people who love him.
He broke the hug first, but only pulled back slightly, so our faces were still just inches apart. It can't have been more than a few seconds, but it felt more like an hour, just looking at him, paralysed by indecision. I'm not entirely sure who made the first move. Maybe I leaned in a little more, maybe he did. But the end result was the same – suddenly, I felt his lips pressing against mine, and the guy I had been fantasising about for over a year was kissing me, softly at first, then harder. I felt his mouth open and his tongue flickering lightly against mine. As the kiss grew deeper, I felt his arms sliding up and down my back, pulling me closer to him – instinctively, I did the same, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. My entire body felt like it was on fire, and there was nothing in my head but fireworks and blinding light.
And that's the 'here' and the 'what' that's got me so confused – somehow or another, I've ended up sitting here making out with my straight roommate. I know I shouldn't be. I know he's in a really vulnerable place right now, and this probably qualifies as taking advantage, but right now, I just can't seem to care. Something about this just feels…right. Like it's meant to be. It feels as though my entire world has shrunk to this couch, and nothing matters to me but this kiss.
Which is probably why I don't hear someone's key sliding into the lock behind me. Why I don't hear the door open, and footsteps coming through it. The horrified gasp that comes next, though, shocks me back into reality, and I hear Rachel's words with total clarity.
"Oh my God…"