Title: A Flimsy Excuse
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Implied Bobby/Jack
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He's not scared but it's a great excuse.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made, no harm intended
XX
It was Angel's fault, Bobby explained later to Evelyn, entirely Angel's fault that Jack refused to sleep in his own bed. Those stupid ghost stories had scared the living hell out of Jack, who had now taken up residence in Bobby's bed.
"Bobby..." Evelyn sighed. She handed him the bowl of packaged candies. "It can't be that bad. And since when do you mind him sneaking in? He used to crawl in bed with you years ago."
"How 'bout the fact that he's too big to be doin' that now," Bobby scowled. "And he hogs the blankets every time might I add. Go yell at Angel, those damned stories are the reason why I'm currently sharing my single size bed with someone taller than me, for fuck's sake!"
"Bobby! Language!" she frowned and nodded to the door. "I'll speak to them both. The kids will be coming by soon enough." She added another bowl on top of the candy one, filled with gift-wrapped cookies.
Bobby stomped over to the front door, grumbling under his breath. Jack sat on the chair closest to the door, a cigarette perched between two fingers. He glanced at Bobby, ducking his head a little.
"Stub that shit out," Bobby snapped. "Ma'll smell it, unless y' know, you actually like being grounded."
Jack pinched the tip of the cigarette, brushing the ash loose with a quick exhale. "Sorry," he mumbled. He pocketed the cigarette and stuffed his hands into his sweater. "Look, I'm sorry I..."
"Sorry you keep stealin' my blankets?" Bobby set the bowls down and tugged his own sweater on. "Jack, seriously, you're sixteen, you need to sleep in your own bed."
"You never minded before," Jack pouted a little and sat back in his chair. He rested one foot on the pumpkin, one that he'd carved with his brothers that morning.
"You were what? Ten years old? Christ, you're longer than the bed now, and you hog the blankets and not to mention your morning wood diggin' into my hip each day."
"Bobby!" Jack hissed, his face flaming a bright red. "Shut the fuck up!"
Bobby smirked. He sat down on his chair and leered at Jack. "Yeah, I felt it, pervy little Jackie, rubbing off on his own brother, what a fairy indeed."
Jack glared at him, two spots of color still high in his cheeks. "Mom said it was normal!"
"For little fairies, sure," Bobby dodged the lighter that was thrown at his head. "C'mon though, it's just a bunch of ghost stories, they aren't that scary."
Jack folded his arms over his chest. "I wasn't scared."
"Bullshit. I saw how pale you were, Cracker Jack. That hook story got you, didn't it? Tap, tap, tappin' on the window..."
Jack looked away, a glimmer of unease in his eyes. "Shut up already."
"Tap, tap," Bobby murmured. "Feel that cold metal sliding down your neck," he inched closer to Jack, one hand reaching for him, unseen, "Can almost smell the blood on him from the last victim, sharp tip of the hook running down your neck!" And with that, he dragged two fingers down Jack's neck.
Jack shrieked and jumped up, breathing hard. "You fucker! That wasn't funny, Bobby!"
Bobby laughed and tugged Jack close to him, silencing his outrage with a kiss, a fast, hard kiss that stole his breath. Bobby pushed him back a bit with a wink.
"Sure it was," he sat back down. "Now help me shell out and I'll let you sleep in my bed tonight, flimsy excuse or no."
XX
Happy Halloween to all those who celebrate!