Title: Nobody Else Matters
Rating: PG for potty-talk (ahahaha) and sexuality. :
Fandom: 21 Jump Street - Tom/Doug
Movie/quote: "I don't have no mama. No family either." - "Hey, I'm your family." - "You know what, when we started out, I thought we was really goin' somewhere. This is it. We're just goin', huh?" - "I love you." --Bonnie and Clyde
Summary: This made me realize something; I wasn't going to ever leave Doug just because of someone else's opinion.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. :
Author's Notes: First person; I don't usually do that with Tom and Doug. Actually, I don't really ever do that when I'm writing fan fiction without an original character, but whatever. Also, Christmas-y because I haven't done anything Christmas-y ever and I think it's about time.
It was sort of like something had hit my face this morning when Doug reminded me. It was in the most subtle of ways that he did it too, and I'm still not sure if that had even been what he was asking me about. He'd said, are you ready? I'd shrugged with much more emotion than a shrug should really hold. We'd stared at each other nervously for a few minutes. Maybe he was just staring in bemusement, wondering what the hell I was actually thinking about. Maybe he was just asking about presents, but I thought we'd had this conversation yesterday to make sure we'd had all the presents.
We were probably stressing ourselves over this way too much. We'd offered to host the Christmas party for everyone this year for a reason; all of our close friends and their family-- not to mention our families, or what little there was of them left, were invited too. There had been a reason we'd decided to tell my mom that we were gay in front of a bunch of people-- specifically, this bunch of people; everyone else who we knew at that party already knew about our homosexuality, so if she made a big fuss about how cute it was, it wouldn't matter. However, if she suddenly decided that she hated the both of us, there would be too many people in our house for her to decide to hit me with a rake or something.
At first we had thought that this had been some sort of brilliant planning, but as it grew nearer and nearer to six o' clock, when people would start arriving, we-- or at least I suddenly realized that it had been horrible planning.
Did I mention that it was, oh, ten minutes before six o' clock? And of course we could expect my mother to be the first one here, because that's just the type of person my mother was. She was always there way too early or exactly on time, and since way too early had passed a while ago, I knew she was going to be here right on time. And of course I could expect her to just randomly take control of the party even though we'd offered to host it.
Almost simultaneously, Doug and I had to go the bathroom, bad. I'm pretty sure this all had something to do with the fact that we were about to tell someone who meant quite a lot to us-- or at least me-- about this, well, very crucial detail in our life. Actually, I couldn't tell who was more nervous about this. Doug had always gotten along quite well with my mother, and although he was pretending on the outside that he knew nothing bad could happen out of this, I knew Doug. I knew Doug quite well, and that was definitely not what he believed in.
He was, along with me, afraid that my mother would see fit to chase both of us around the house with a butcher knife. I love my mother to death, don't get me wrong. What son is not supposed to love their mother? I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm so desperate to gain her acceptance that I'm afraid she'll hate me. I can't see how a mother can hate her son, unless she's clinically insane, but there's always that lingering fear.
I hate that lingering fear, by the way.
I swear that I'm not a mama's boy.
The door to the bathroom finally opens. I playfully punch my boyfriend in the shoulder, asking him what took so long. He tells me it hasn't been that long and sticks his tongue out at me.
I don't pee with the door open, so Doug stands in the doorway with his head leaning on it while I unzip my pants and proceed to do what it is I do when I pee. I never pee with the door closed, unless I am in a public place or at someone else's house, but you know what I mean. Doug always pees with the door closed, and I find it really annoying and kind of stupid. I mean, we're both guys and whatnot. Besides, it's not like I don't ever see his penis or something. When I asked him why he has to close the door one day, he said it was because he was so used to having random girls in his house that he wasn't altogether comfortable with watching him pee. I had looked at him disapprovingly when he had said so, but I guess he had a point on me because I wasn't so used to having random girls in my house, even when I thought I was straight.
Usually Doug says things to me when he hangs around to watch me pee. I guess it's kind of weird, but it's just something he does. Just like how peeing with the door open is something I do. Anyway, I don't know if he so much as watches me as he just stands there to talk. Today, however, is different, I guess.
The doorbell rings while I'm washing my hands, and I just ignore the doorbell. I don't need a clock to know what time it is, nor do I need to open the door to know who it is standing at my doorstep. It's my mom, and this is just the beginning of what is probably going to be a very long night.
When I turn to look at Doug, he just looks frozen in his place. I don't stay anything, I just stare at him, waiting for him to move. Eventually, when it becomes clear to me he is not going to move unless I ask him to, I take his hand, although I am gulping in apprehension for what I know will eventually have to be done.
"We don't have to tell her," Doug blurts out. "I mean, I don't have a mom. Not really any family either."
Now it's my turn to be frozen in my place; I really don't know what to say. Eventually, I just squeeze his hand. "Hey, I'm your family." Doug smiles at this, and I'm thankful. I thought it sounded pretty stupid, actually.
"You know what, when we started out, I thought we were really goin' somewhere," Doug says eventually. "This is it. We're just goin', huh?"
He makes it sound like what we're doing is so much different, so much more dramatic, but I guess it's because we've tried to tell her so many times before, but one or both of us always backed down at the last minute. This time, we knew, was going to be it. Doug, however, made it sound like if she shunned the fact that I was gay, that I slept in the same bed as he did every night, I would leave him and go back to girls. This made me realize something; I wasn't going to ever leave Doug just because of someone else's opinion. Even if it was my mom's. And besides, I don't even know what her opinion was, or was going to be-- yet. Maybe it would actually be all okay and all of this fretting would have been for no reason.
In retrospect, I have no idea how to voice this epiphany to Doug. I am most definitely not the type to just express that sort of emotion. Maybe when I'm drunk, maybe when the moment is really sappy. Not after I just peed and right before we were going to have a Christmas party, though.
"I love you," I eventually say. I'm pretty sure he read between the lines.