In An Instant
Chapter 4: Mightier Than the Sword
GENRES: Drama, Romance, Humor, Tragedy, Angst, ...pretty much everything. So...gen?
MILD CHARACTERIZATION SPOILERS for Chris Colfer's Struck By Lightning!
WARNINGS: lots of mentions of Sex and a shit ton of snark. Also, sexual tension. As if that wasn't already obvious.
PAIRING: Jesse St. James and Carson Phillips AKA Jarson AKA St. Phillips AKA Jarson St. Phillips. There may be mentions of other pairings down the line, especially ones from GLEE.
WORD COUNT: 3446
to: Jesse St. James October 27th, 2011 6:49 pm
St. James-
I still want to continue with our deal, but I'm too busy to meet in person anymore, at least for now. You can send me your work by email (mine is Editor_CarsonPhillips on hotmail). On another note: Do you know how to upload and send the recordings of your lectures? If not, I suggest learning.
-Carson.
to: Jesse St. James October 27th, 2011 6:55 pm
On second thought, I'm fairly sure you're going to "get distracted rehearsing" and not do it, so here's a link that should help:
Transfer-Cassette-Tape-to-Computer on wikihow
And now you have no excuse to slack off. At all. For the last time, making faces at yourself in the mirror is not a more worthwhile pursuit than homework at all.
-Carson.
to: Carson Phillips October 27th, 7:20 pm
Could you get anymore hot? ;)
Also Casper I don't know that that will work for me… How about I buy you coffee and we can talk about it? I promise not to poison you this time. And I'll even bring sunglasses so that I can't get distracted by your unintentional eyesex.
to: Jesse St. James October 27th, 7:23 pm
No. Go work.
-Carson.
to: Carson Phillips October 27th, 7:25 pm
You know you're going to miss the eye sex. Although the computer's getting a pretty good show over here… ;)
to: Jesse St. James October 27th, 7:28 pm
Work.
to: Carson Phillips October 27th, 7:29 pm
Okay, babe, what is this really about?
Carson Phillips is offline
Jesse St. James shrugged a bit and Facebook-stalked one of Naomi's hot cousins for all of two minutes, then logged off and spun twice in his chair, licking his lips.
It was clearly time to get more dramatic.
35 unanswered spammed calls to Carson's phone later, Jesse St. James reluctantly took to his email, and then, shoving up with all the melodrama he could muster, headed to the stage.
He needed to perform.
Star-Born_St. James on hotmail
Even his email reeked of narcissism.
Carson clicked open the message, attempting to squash the small seedlings of maybe-possibly-disappointment at it actually being in his email, and, apparently, just a series of attachments, instead of the expected egotistical jackass remark in return to his own reply via facebook. Which was all completely irrational and ridiculous, and he had to get to work, didn't he?
Carson double-clicked open the first attached file, and a laugh escaped him at the giant winking-emoticon that filled his screen.
That was much more Jesse St. James.
Realizing his thoughts, he rolled his eyes and shook his head once, hard, then opened the next attachment, which was fortunately an actual draft of an essay on Roman theatre traditions, and moved quickly to the review section of Microsoft Word, getting the highlighting tool ready to start with.
He scanned the title, and sighed, a small smirk playing at his lips.
Gladiator Sex on Stage by Jesse St. James
Carson highlighted it instantly, and left the notation, "If you didn't have me to change things like this, all of your teachers would be dead."
Then, after a pause, added:
"Thank me with coffee?"
He could probably get revenge better in person, anyway.
"Carson Phillips!"
"Here we go…"
Carson turned slowly in his seat to face Claire, who narrowed her eyes at him.
"Are you on drugs?"
Carson blinked.
"Yes. All the time. Coffee"
Claire's mouth fell ajar, and her eyes shot daggers.
"That's not what I meant."
"Well, I interpreted what you said in the literal sense," Carson retorted, eyes returning to the book in front of him. "There's a book called a dictionary you can read if that's too confusing for you."
Claire huffed and did a small, instinctive hair-flip that would have made Carson giggle if he were the sort to do so at all.
Instead, he just smirked amusedly down at his book.
Claire shifted her weight irritably and huffed again, very clearly so as to make it very obvious how exhausting he was to put up with.
"If you weren't snorting cocaine powder or some other illicit substance to get over your pathetic life and lack of friends, then what is your excuse?"
"For what?" Carson asked blandly, and Claire gave a shiver of righteous indignation.
"For what?" she echoed him in quiet, blank outrage. "The meeting this morning that you missed, maybe? Hello! Not that we missed having you there or anything like that," she added hastily, casting him a glance in her periphery to gauge his reaction. "But your approval was required for a unilateral vote over our requested amendments to the dress code, and we actually needed to discuss the possibility of an article with you for the Chronicle, since we felt like being nice. Of course, I don't know why we bothered, since you never are."
Carson calmly licked the tip of his finger and turned a page.
"Was I given the appropriate five days' notice that I needed to attend this meeting?"
Claire took a rattling breath through her nose.
"Excuse me?"
He looked up, with a small, smug tilt to his head, and raised a brow.
"Our contract. Do you not remember signing it?"
Claire pursed her lips tightly.
"Excuse me?" she repeated, and he nodded, reaching one-handed into his backpack and withdrawing a thick envelope, undoing the metal latch, and handing her a laminated sheaf of paper, all the while never looking up as he turned another page in his book with his free hand.
"There you go."
"I remember," she informed him tersely, taking the small stack of papers nonetheless. "But all that was stated was that you weren't going to attend meetings where your presence wasn't necessary and that we had to inform you ahead of time when you were."
Lick finger. Turn page. Silence.
Then, vaguely, "You really should learn to read the fine print."
She made a noise of tremendous affront and muttered another horrified, "Excuse me?", then, turning the page, a choking sound.
And:
"You have veto rights now?" she shrieked.
Carson smiled.
"I see you got to article B, section 2a. Right after the part about being informed of my presence's necessity five days in advance, isn't it?"
Claire slammed her purse against his shoulder, hissing "asshole", and he raised a brow, marking his place and standing.
"Isn't physical violence beneath our school's president?"
And with a nod, left her there.
Claire trembled a moment behind him, then clenched her jaw, eyes blazing.
She was, after all, the queen of the school for a reason. And screw Carson if he thought she owed him anything after all these years. That debt had been paid ages ago, and she was so past going easy on him.
Veto or no, loser-dictatorships weren't going to fly with the student body, and between the two of them she'd always have the popular vote. It was something they'd both made sure of.
"You work too much. You shouldn't have to pop pills and coffee to deal with high school, you know?"
Carson rolled his eyes, sighing.
"Andrew, it's just a headache- common ailment, easily alleviated. And coffee's been a necessity of mine since middle school, if not elementary, since I started half-way through fifth grade. A good necessity," Carson added, tossing back two Tylenol and swallowing them dry.
Andrew screwed up his face, watching.
"I don't actually know CPR," he informed Carson, a little actual concern seeping into his ironic tone. "Maybe go easy on the choking-hazards?"
"But I live for danger, Andrew," Carson replied dully, scratching through a word on his paper.
Andrew snorted.
"You won't even kill zombies with me!"
"Only because every time I kick your ass you throw a tantrum, and then pretend that it never happened. Besides- working."
"Exactly my point," Andrew exclaimed, completely ignoring the first part. "You work too much, C-man. C'mere. I'm sure I can teach you to be maybe a quarter as good as me."
"You're deranged, and should be studying."
"Brains! Brains are good! Yum!"
"I'm sure they're tasty when you don't have any…"
Andrew groaned.
"Whatever. Bathroom break!"
Carson ignored him as he stood, stretched, and left the room, but at the sound of the door shutting, his gaze slowly migrated upwards. He smirked.
Andrew reentered the living room seven minutes later, triumphant.
"Yo, C-man! Guess who's got your backpack and isn't giving it back until you blow up the undead with them? …What's that?"
Carson yawned, not looking up from his essay.
"What's what?"
"...What did you do to my game?"
Carson shook his head, glancing to the television screen.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Andrew crossed his arms.
"C-man, using your weird over-the-top intellect isn't allowed! This doesn't count! And how the hell did you get to level twenty? I was on fifteen, and have been playing for two months!"
Carson yawned again.
"You're bad at it, and I'm not. You have coffee right?"
"It's in a different language!"
"Respect for Finland," Carson responded brightly. "Coffee?"
"I'm telling Amy."
"She'll side with me. I tutored her to beat you in one of your stupid games a year ago for only twenty dollars a week. I'm getting uncaffeinated here. You won't like me when I'm uncaffeinated."
"That was you?"
"Coffee!"
"Yes sir, Artemis Fowl Hulk," Andrew muttered.
Carson grinned.
"While you do that, should I just go ahead and beat the game?"
"Party tonight! You coming?"
Jesse didn't even blink at the sight of Naomi and Lucas tangled in Lucas's bed, his roommate on the very verge of sleep, while his roommate's girlfriend stretched luxuriously beneath the sheets and smirked broadly at Jesse.
"I have a few potential hook ups already lined up for you if you want."
Jesse raised a brow, dropping down his bag.
"Any specifics?"
"This girl Joanne, and another named Mary. There's also a guy named Zach in my Studies class who might be up your alley. All the puns intended."
She winked, grinning.
Jesse paused, dropping onto his bed, then shook his head.
"Well, thanks but no thanks."
"Okay, what's with your slump?" Naomi asked, sitting up a little in bed, a sheet wrapping her chest.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're in a slump," Naomi informed him, almost sternly. "You haven't had sex in ages, Jess. This kid cannot be that special. Come on- Where'd my wing-man go?"
"I like him," Jesse informed her dramatically and she laughed.
"And I like thongs. What's your point? Tell me- St. James… Do you only wear one pair of underwear? Is it healthy to only wear one, ever? Even if it's great underwear that you like and it hugs your ass in the best way ever."
Jesse snorted and Lucas rolled onto his stomach, one leg draping over Naomi's legs, and arm over her chest, and she smirked, beginning to play with her boyfriend's fingers.
"You're such a hypocrite, Naomi. One, you never wear underwear, unless it's a thong, and you actually do have only one to my knowledge, since we all burned your others on Columbus Day. And two," he gestured pointedly to Lucas, then began loudly humming 'We Are the Champions', gaze fixed on the ceiling once more.
"I could totally have a secret stash of granny panties," she muttered. Then: "And Lucas and I aren't exclusive! You know that!"
Jesse rolled his eyes.
"Please. You haven't had sex with anyone not-Lucas outside of threesomes that involve Lucas in, what? A year?"
"Only because everyone else is boring and completely non-sexy."
"Excuse me?" Jesse asked, arching a brow. "You're talking to the King of Sexy right now!"
"I thought that was Elvis."
"Dying on a toilet isn't sexy, even if you're jacking off," Jesse retorted, rolling onto his side.
Naomi nodded in understanding.
"Still. You are still bi, right?"
"Yes," he sighed.
Naomi looked at him a long moment, then:
"You sure boytoy's not straight?"
Jesse laughed.
"I don't think he's straight, but he's not gay either."
"Bi?"
Jesse rolled his eyes.
"I don't know! Carson's got this thing where he's just not that into people, period. Or sex. Unless it's with me, of course."
"You sure boytoy's a boy-toy?"
Jesse smirked at the ceiling.
"Oh, I'm sure."
"Uh-huh… Hey, Jess, mind leaving the room again?" she asked, her eyes once more on Lucas. "I want to wake him up and get another quickie in before my last class."
Jesse rolled onto the floor wordlessly and grabbed his laptop from the floor, then the headphones off of the small table in the corner of the room.
He heard Lucas's sleepy voice behind him, asking where he was, and then Naomi's soothing:
"Shh, we're gonna fuck again, and I didn't want to get Jess all hot and bothered watching us when he's dealing with the Prude King of the West Village."
Jesse grinned, pushing his face into the door so that the crack he'd left widened to accommodate.
"When will you learn, Naomi, that the virgins are always better?"
"That's not true," a voice said from behind him, and Jesse groaned, Naomi laughing wickedly inside.
"Hi Seth."
"Are you going to the party tonight?"
"69-ing in five seconds whether the door is open or not guys," Naomi called out. "There will be dirty talk."
"Because my babe's really hot, and…"
Lucas's moan cut himself off, and Seth gave the door a look of horror.
"Close it!"
"Are you sure?" Jesse asked, leaning back so that it opened further.
"You're killing my ability to get laid, here, guys," Lucas yelled, and Seth rolled his eyes, grabbing Jesse's hand and pulling him from the door, then jerking the handle to close it after him.
"Headphones," Seth sighed, and Jesse forked them over without question.
There was a beat as they stood there, then Seth gave him a once-over. "Can we talk?"
Jesse immediately turned and headed for the common room, Seth following without question.
They settled on the couch, Jesse lounging shamelessly, still looking incredibly smug after seeing the other students fleeing and saying loudly not to stay there if they didn't want to deal with loud singing and drawings of cats.
Seth was eying him jealously.
"How do you do that?"
"Do what? Become this amazing? I was born this way, baby. I was born to be great."
"That's Lady Gaga."
"No. It's Jesse St. James. She was singing about me. I inspired Gaga, I'm sure, the last time we talked."
"You've talked to Lady Gaga?"
Jesse smiled more than a little condescendingly.
"No- Lady Gaga's talked to me."
They sat for a moment, then Seth inhaled loudly, looking down at his lap.
"How do you just let things roll off your back like that?"
"I'm a star," Jesse said patiently, as though imparting incredible words of wisdom.
"I want to be too."
"Wanting never gets you anywhere except masturbating alone in a one bedroom apartment," Jesse retorted. "You can't be a star if you can't handle some haters."
"I've always known you were smart," Seth said quietly, and Jesse nodded.
"I am, but Carson's also rubbing off on me in some non-dirty ways, as well."
"Right. Your Kid Wonder."
"Seth, you're straight," Jesse sighed. "You've always been a straight, straight-edge prude. One night of drunk doesn't kill that. Just ask Katy Perry."
Seth stared at Jesse in bewilderment.
"What?"
"She kisses girls at concerts, doesn't she? It sells well, and it's entertaining, but it's just for the popularity points. Doesn't make her bi or a chick for chicks."
Seth scowled.
"Nevermind. I'm going to class."
"Have fun! Will it help if I draw you a cat?"
"No," Seth said irritably.
Jesse watched him go, then pulled his laptop onto his knees, muttering, "I should start calling him Elphie."
He pressed the power button and hummed listlessly as the computer began whirring into life. Footsteps, though, caught his attention, and he looked up to see Seth standing in the doorway.
"Sorry, that was rude. Please make me a cat?"
Jesse laughed.
"Oh, I will," he nodded. "She's gonna be green."
"Whatever you want to do. Bye!"
"Bye Elphie!"
Jesse scrolled to his email, then, spotting the one from Carson, smirked.
But it was all just attachments, so unless he had sent the lyrics to "S&M"…
Jesse clicked open the first attachment, then smiled genuinely when he read the editor-bubble next to his title.
Hell yeah, he'd meet him for coffee.
Didn't they always?
A/N- Reviews show your respect for Finland, and make Naomi talk about her underwear more. Oh yeah. We know you like that. We know all. ;)