Title: In passing
Fandom: Bare, A Pop Opera
Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue.
Summary: A/U. What might have happened, had Jason not killed himself.
Warnings: Slash, some swearing and a not so positive use of the word 'queer.'
Notes: Wrote this after I was pondering this particular question over at the Bare forums. I've always been a little on the pragmatic side when it comes to love, so I decided to take a less optimistic look at this particular plot thread. Also? My first Bare fic. Trying to keep it as vague as I can.
Peter should have seen it coming. He really should have. He'd spent so long not thinking about Jason or about high school and tragic love that he should have realized that it was only a matter of time before all of that denial finally caught up with him. What he couldn't have known was just how literally he was going to have to come face to face with his past.
He was late for work when it did happen, weaving dangerously through the jammed New York streets, glancing down at his watch every few minutes, hoping against hope that time was miraculously stand still long enough to get him across five city blocks. His alarm clock had failed to go off that morning. Again.
Watching the second hand tick off more time he couldn't afford, he didn't notice the man exiting the Starbucks as he careened around another corner. Peter reeled back as he knocked the mans tray from his hands, dumping three separate cups of coffee all over the both of them.
He cursed explosively, wiping ineffectually at the coffee scalding through his clothes, not even bothering to look at his fellow pedestrian as he fretted over the spreading stain. "Why does this shit always happen to me? It's the gay thing, right? God really does hate queers."
"Peter!"
The strangled utterance was enough to make him look up and actually see the man he had run into. He froze at the sight of features that had once been more familiar to him than his own. Jason had aged well, was the first thing he noticed, cataloguing the bare hint of lines at the corners of his eyes, the fine, chiseled jaw, broad shoulders and expertly coifed hair. Also the suit that screamed corporate America and the worn, gold wedding band that glinted almost tauntingly from the ring finger of his left hand.
It was the last part that finally drove Peter past the shock. "Jason." The name came out high-pitched and sounding slightly panicked. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time with more success. "How's Ivy?"
"Ivy's fine," Jason intoned in return, sounding less keen on the subject than a husband ought to be.
"Good. That's…. That's great, even."
They lapsed into silence and Jason looked away from him awkwardly, blue eyes darting around as if searching for a quick exit. At that precise moment, Peter couldn't blame him. He knew he wasn't at all comfortable with this situation.
"Look, Jason-"
"Peter, I-"
Peter huffed a frustrated sigh and ran a shaky hand through his hair. He opened his mouth try again when the alarm on his watch went off and he bit back another expletive. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a couple of bills before thrusting them at Jason who took them reflexively.
"For the coffee," he explained as he started to inch his way around the blonde, pausing only long enough to shout a few last words over his shoulder. "Sorry to hit and run. It was nice seeing you again."
Peter took off at a dead run, letting himself be swallowed up by the crowd. If his heart was beating more erratically than usual or his stomach was doing an odd little jig, well, he put it down to the wild dash across down. After all, what was a few more years of denial?