A/N: heh, this is what I'm famous for... (Don't worry nothing bad...)
Disclaimer: I know already that I do not own these characters, they belong to the brilliant Erica Wester and that I'm just borrowing them for this prompt fic. The only characters I can say that are mine are any OCs I write.
Chance Encounter
Falling
Once upon a time before I took up smiling
I hated the moonlight
Shadows of the night that poets find beguiling
Seemed flat as the moonlight
Taking cooking duty, which Jonathan was relieved because he said he was a terrible cook and didn't need to add poison to kill, Sock turned the stove on as he began preparing the food.
"Look, I don't want to sound rude but… what's up with your hair?" Jonathan lightly smiled at the bird nest on top of Sock's head. Finally realizing what he must look like with his ratty sweats and his old shirt with that one rip by his shoulder Sock began to blush. Never mind that his hair was probably a tangled mess since he went to sleep when it was damp.
Today was just not his day to impress. Clearing his throat Sock mumbled, "This is what happens when I sleep when my hair isn't all the way dry." Running his fingers trying to finger comb his hair, Sock gave up when his fingers got stuck, washed his hands again before he slid the bacon in the pan hearing it sizzle. "I think I was born to have perpetual bad hair. It's a reason I need to go to a barber shop soon and get it cut shorter. Less hair, less chances it acts up on me."
"I don't think a buzz cut would suit you," Jonathan comments before biting his lip. "No disrespect."
"None taken," Sock replied taking the bacon out and adding the next strips. "It's not really my thing either. I just need to take an inch or two off. Still long enough to run my fingers through but not enough to get it this tangled."
There was a pregnant pause before Jonathan spoke up, "I think that's a good idea. Do you have clippers?"
Sock paused looking back at him, "What for?"
"Well… I know a thing or two about hair," Jonathan said running his fingers through this hair, "If you want I can cut it for you. Free of charge."
Turning back around to take the bacon out and put the next strips in Sock glanced back, "What's the catch? Are you going to give me a bad cut?"
"No, no, I would never. It's just… I don't know. A small thank you for you cooking. I mean, I'm just standing here doing nothing." Jonathan said motioning to himself. Sock smiled affectionately. Seeing him fidget at being rendered 'useless' Sock asked him to bring the plates down and pour the coffee in their mugs. Sock letting Jonathan drink from the TARDIS one while he drank from his Sherlock one.
Scrambling the eggs once the bacon was finished, Sock added his spices and served the rest of breakfast. Already by the table they started eating quietly as Sock watched Jonathan close his eyes and moaned. "Jesus Christ on a cracker, this is good."
"It meet your standards?"
"Surpasses," Jonathan complimented between bites, "I don't know how you do it. It even taste better than the last time." Blushing Sock coughed into his hand trying to displace his discomfort. It was just a compliment. No need to get so flustered. Shoving more food into his mouth Sock used it as a form of keeping the comfortable silence going.
Finishing up, Sock put his dishes in the sink and excused himself to go to the bathroom telling Jonathan he could have more coffee if he liked. Finally behind a closed door, Sock sighed out going for his comb as he brushed his hair. Satisfied to have it more manageable he went to relieve himself.
Now, what to do about my clothes. Sock couldn't make it obvious by changing but he then remembered he needed to do laundry anyway and had no extra clothes to change into. Great, just great, I had to wait until the last moment to wash and now I'm spending my day doing laundry. I always do this to myself yet I never learn.
Squaring his shoulders he left the sanctuary of his bathroom and went to his room to lug his clothes to his washer at the corner of the apartment. Sipping from the TARDIS cup Jonathan raised his eyebrow when he saw the mountain of dirty clothes. Taking handfuls Sock just tossed clothes in as the water ran not really having a system of separating clothes. When the machine was full, he closed it and let it do its job.
"You're just a messy person, aren't you?" Jonathan smiled as he watched the spectacle and looked around the room at the messy state. Sock just flopped onto the couch covering his eyes with his arm. "Ugh, I hate laundry day."
"Yeah, I can tell. Do you just wait until the last shred of clothes are used before you do them?" he asked but didn't need a full reply when a groan did just fine. "Hey, do you still want that haircut? I already cleaned the kitchen if you want to do it there?"
"Wait, what? You cleaned the kitchen?" Sock got back up making a beeline to see that the dirty dishes were washed and put away as well as the counters and the floor looked swept. "You didn't have to do that, Jonathan. I could've done that."
"Eh, it was no biggie." He shrugged rubbing the back of his neck. "Just go find the clippers and I'll fix that mop full of hair."
I don't know how far I'm already gone that I'm contemplating letting him cut my hair. Walking back into the bathroom, Sock pulled out new clippers his mom sent him but never used. Bringing them back Sock sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and waited for Jonathan.
Closing his eyes, Sock tried not to make a sound when he felt the other male run his fingers through his hair. Don't arch your back, don't you dare arch your back!
"You'll probably need to take off your shirt before I start," Jonathan said as he stepped back fiddling with the clipper. Sock—more nervous than he should be—gulped as he grabbed the back of the shirt by the neck and tugged it off his head. Feeling more self-conscience Sowachowski sat up straight and ridged when the clippers turned on.
With his hair falling off to the sides as it gave phantom touches down his back and shoulders he thought, why do I trust him with my hair? Am I really that crazy!?
After ten agonizing minutes it was finally over. Feeling Jonathan run his hand through his hair again for much longer time than what was strictly needed Jonathan proclaimed he was finished and not to worry over the hair on the floor. That he would clean it up and to not even protest.
It's like Jonathan read his mind because that's exactly what Sock was going to do. Just before Sock stood up he felt Jonathan's hands run over his shoulders and then down his back brushing the hair there. Suppressing a shiver, Sock stood up and pulled his shirt over his head feeling a little less vulnerable in his own kitchen fully dressed again. Thanking him Sock excused himself saying he needed to put fabric softener.
It wasn't until reaching the bathroom did Sock see his new do. It was surprisingly good. It was a good look on him and way better than his old haircut. Sock stood by the mirror a few more minutes admiring it before scolding himself for staying in here too long.
Coming out to thank Jonathan again now that he actually saw his haircut Sock was greeted to a nice sight of Jonathan tidying up his living room. "What are you doing?"
"Tidying up," he replied. "You have a lot of stuff laying around. Did you know that?"
There was a roar of panic flooding through Sock that had him paralyzed. It took a few seconds—that felt like minutes—before Sock was able to move again, "Stop. I-I like the mess." Jonathan paused looking up at the other male when he heard how strange his voice sounded.
Seeing his face Jonathan put what he had in his hands down and nodded. "Sorry man. Just have this habit."
"It's okay," Sock squeaked trying to get his constricted throat to relax. "I-uh just function better in a messy environment. English majors have a lot going on in our minds and it seems to translate to our home life."
That got a laugh out of the blond. Smiling softly, Jonathan walked to the front door saying, "I had a good time but I should get out of your hair so you can do your laundry in peace. Bye."
"Bye," Sock echoed as the door closed and a big wave of mixed emotions passed. There was disappointment as well as relief there and longing and terror. Looking around his apartment he got this itch crawling through his skin at all the things Jonathan probably touched and moved.
He could've seen my stories. Now as much as Sock wanted to be a writer, he was still hesitant on who exactly got to see his work.
Between work, school, and homework, Sock Sowachowski had his work cut out. He also didn't think Jonathan would show up again like he did when Sock was in his laundry-day clothes. But he was wrong, oh so wrong.
And like every time he showed up, Sock was surprised and unprepared to see him again.
You would think if Jonathan had been showing up for the last two and a half months he would expect it. However, Sock always thought when Jonathan left, that would be the last time. Every. Single. Time.
So like always, he was unprepared when an intoxicated Jonathan slumped by the door frame at midnight and smiled up at him like Sock was Christmas come early.
"Hey Sock, can I come in?" Jonathan slurred as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and wobbled to stay upright. Instantly Sock reached for him before he tumbled. Ushering him inside Sock placed him on the couch going into the kitchen to get Jonathan's blue mug as he poured him a glass of water.
Coming back Sock handed the drunk male who was currently prone on his sofa his cup. "Here, drink it."
Wanting to swat it away, Jonathan didn't have the coordination and let himself be babied into hydrating himself. Pushing the cup away when he was done Jonathan smiled crookedly as he patted Sock's cheek with his palm. "You're too good for me. That's why I knew to come here than to Lil's. She would have yelled at me."
Sock just nodded trying to pacify Jonathan as he got up and went to get the ibuprofen. Jonathan would thank him later today when his hangover would be raging. Bringing the cup and pills, Sock had to cajole his suppose friend to take the pills.
After a minute or two, he did as he grumbled and flopped back on the couch. Just when Sock was getting up to leave Jonathan to crash, he felt a hand wrap itself on his right wrist and brought his attention to the hot mess that was Jonathan Combs. "Did you need something else?"
"C'mere," Jonathan whispered as he waved his hand. With his heart picking up speed, Sock kneeled and got closer to hear what he wanted to say. "You're a good friend. A really good friend and I'm glad I crawled into your window." Smiling at the nice things Jonathan said in his drunken state Sock was unprepared, yet again, when he felt two hands grab his face and pull him in.
It was a sloppy wet kiss that didn't last long before Jonathan released him sending one more smile and mumbled "missed you" before he clonked out snoring once more.
Easy for him to do, Sock thought as his heart pounded in his ears as he felt his body heat up making him tremble while he continued to kneel beside Jonathan. This was too much.
Feeling dizzy, Sock plopped his butt down on the carpet as he turned his back on the snoring blond. Trying to calm his racing heart, Sock grabbed is hair and pulled trying to bring his racing mind down too.
Not good, not good. He chanted under his breath. It wasn't until this moment that Sock realized that he liked Jonathan just a little too much than was appropriate. He was trying to stop himself from shaking Jonathan awake to plant another kiss. Or ask what he meant by that he missed him.
Sock shoved himself away from his temptation and rushed to his room. Tonight was going to be one of those nights where he didn't sleep. Looking at his table, Sock sat in his chair and started writing just to get the extra energy out of his system until sleep took him.
What am I going to do now?
A/N: Song mention: 'Blue Moon' by Rod Stewart
