By Kristin ([email protected])
Even on the faces of the people you most love there's always that one expression that you detest. It makes your stomach curl up, your head start to pound, and your voice heavy with sarcasm. Thus, in order to avoid certain confrontation, any intelligent person will "head for the hills" when a face begins that familiar shift. And Jack McPhee was no idiot.
"Morning Dad. I was just about to take a shower..." Leaving a half-eaten bowl of cereal behind, Jack pushed back his chair from the breakfast table. "I'll probably be out all day. See you tonight." He paused and squinted as his eyes protested against the sun light streaming through kitchen windows. //Just have to get out of the house without a conversation with Mr. I-Just-Want-To-Understand-My Son, and I can still have a pleasant day...// Unfortunately, as he was bolting for the door, a hand caught his arm in a gentle but firm grasp.
"Do you have a minute?" Before Jack could respond in the decidedly negative, his father continued. "From what I heard last night, you don't have to meet Pacey for lunch until noon. That leaves us quite a bit of time..."
The boy froze, eyes widening in shock as his mind pieced together what that statement meant and all of the implications that went with it. Then his eyes narrowed into slits and the room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. //How dare he?!//
"So, do you listen in on Andie's phone conversations too? Or is this just a precaution for gay sons?" Jack's voice was like ice and his body nearly shook with fury, yet he kept the volume low and the tone controlled. Unnerved, Mr. McPhee took a step back and tried to think of a way to disfuse the situation. As the silence grew and lengthened Jack began to pace back and forth, ranting under his breath as his father helplessly watched. It would have been almost funny, the older man mused, if their father/son relationship wasn't so delicate these days...
"It wasn't planned. I wasn't spying on you Jack, I respect your privacy. I happened to be passing your room yesterday and heard you chattering with Pacey on the phone. When you mentioned your plans for the day I filed them in the back of my mind because *you're my son* and it's nice to know where you are. You never talk to me anymore Jack. I'd like to know what you're up to..."
"You could ask!", Jack cut in, expelling the words with such force that his father felt he'd been slapped in the face.
"Look.. I..." The elder McPhee paused to collect his thoughts, aware that his response would determine whether they would actually comunicate *anything* this morning or simply release pent up frustration.
Seconds ticked by on the clock, seeming to echo throughout the room, and Jack waited, surprising himself with his patience. //Why aren't I just telling Dad to screw himself? Well.. maybe not exactly in those words... but... This is *just* like him!...// And then he started, freezing then backing up his thought process. //Why am I so pissed?// And he was. Jack felt consumed with anger, ready to lash out at any provocation. Violence was in his every breath. He wanted-no, needed- to have something solid under his fingertips just give way; he needed to destroy.
//But why is this getting to me so bad? Ok, he heard me talking to Pacey. It's not like we were plottig worldwide domination...// They hadn't been discussing anything important, just casual conversation. But... it was different-this was Pacey. Somehow, even if there was no concrete reason, things with Pacey were *private*. When he sat up late at night, talking with Pacey on the phone, it was as if they were living in their own little world. He felt so free-he could say anything. In those moments Jack felt like he was in a bubble, his only tie to reality lying in the almost living object cradled against his neck. He could lie back on his bed and stare at the ceiling, not really seeing it but looking through the plaster and wood into the great expanse of nothingness beyond it. Concentrating intently on the lively voice, Jack would lazily play with a pencil or ruler, twirling them in his right hand....
And to have proof that this *wasn't* a safe zone-that it could be breeched by his father like anything else-made a scream well up inside Jack, bursting to get out.
"I'm sorry." His father finally broke the oppressive quiet. "How about we just start over. I'll ask..." He backed off further in a gesture of submission and attempted a friendly smile.
"What are you doing today?"
Jack looked at his father disbelievingly for a minute, then decided that he too could make an effort.
"Umm...", he cleared his throat nervously, "I'm meeting Pacey for lunch at twelve, and then we're going to take `True Love' out for awhile. After that...", the boy shrugged helplessly, "I don't know."
"That's nice." Some of the equilibrium restored to the conversation, the older decided to proceed with his earlier plans.
"I've noticed that you've been hanging out with Pacey a lot lately."
"Yeah, so?", Jack countered defensively.
"Nothing." His father backed up quickly. "I'm not accusing you of anything Jack. I'm simply...curious... Andie told me what happened with Ethan."
The younger man let out a deep sigh and pulled out a chair. It looked like he might be here for awhile...
"So, are you disgusted with me dad? I kissed another guy..."
"*No*" The answer came back firmly. "I'm proud of you son. It took a lot of courage to go after what you wanted. I'm just sorry that it didn't work out for you."
"It's alright. I was discussing it with Pacey and we decided that it was just a crush-nothing to actually do with Ethan at all. He was the first gay guy I'd ever met... so I channeled all of my wants and needs into him. I was in love with the *idea* of Ethan."
Mr. McPhee was surprised but pleased. "It appears that you've given this a lot of thought. So you talked it over with Pacey? It didn't make him feel uncomfortable?"
Jack blushed. "Pacey's really cool..."
"Sounds like it." The older man tried to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. "So... is this a ...." Cursing the generation gap with a vengeance, he fumbled with the words. "... a `special friendship'?"
Jack was looking at him like he had become a strange new breed of platypus. This was not going well. In fact, this was not going *at all*. When did simple family relations become so difficult? For one solitary instance he wanted to be like other fathers, giving their teenage sons the "birds and bees talk" and lending them help with romance. But now... things had been altered in the most dramatic way. And he never knew quite what to say... when to quit or when to push... And he couldn't pretend that he understood what it meant to have a gay son-or even that he was comfortable with it yet. But he wanted to be a part of Jack's life. He wanted to learn. And there's no time like the present...
"I've noticed that...do you think that..." Slow the heart rate, take a deep breath, and jump. "Does Pacey know how you feel about him?"
Jack stared at his father in shock, his face a mask of horror. "I...shit." The shock was so absolute that he hadn't even registered his involuntary swearing. //I'm going to faint, I'm going to faint, I'm going to faint, I'm going to faint...//
"Sometimes...." The older man's face softened, as he latched onto one thing that he *did* understand, one thing that he could offer. "Sometimes, when you look at him, it's just like your mother used to look at me." He gave a gentle smile and decided to leave the boy in peace-he'd have a few things to sort out. "If you want to talk later, just let me know".
And then Jack was alone in the room, soggy Corn Flakes on one side and burnt toast on the other, staring at nothing and wondering when in the hell he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone...
Doug tried to mind his own business. Really, he did. Simply go through the routine: report to work, perform the necessary public services, come home, fall asleep, repeat. He filled his days and nights with noise-music, meaningless chatter with co-workers, television... Anything to avoid getting sucked into "real life" again. Anything to avoid the stagnant filth that followed his father wherever he went, whomever he touched. And anything to not see, *really* see his brother.
He *couldn't* watch, not now-not anymore. He had tried, but damnit... It was just so *easy* to get roped into the kid's problems, to find himself giving advice, to begin to lie awake at night wondering when it would all be too much and the kid would just snap. It always had seemed inevitable--that final breaking point. One day he'd wake up and the kid would be gone. Maybe not dead, laying in the ground as a far-too-late public play of remorse danced itself out over his grave...Maybe not even out of the state, having flown to unknown reaches of the earth and never to be seen again... Perhaps simply empty, a shell of a human being who had stopped caring and just decided he was tired of fighting the role this town had carved out for him all those years ago, perhaps even before he was born...
And Doug couldn't do it longer-he didn't *want* to do it any longer. He wasn't cut out for this job, gluing the pieces back together and knitting up stretched seams of self-esteem. This wasn't his mess. The world broke Pacey, so why was it Doug who had to fix him?
Yet when he saw those eyes, dull with bitterness and battered pride, he couldn't tune him out. And Pacey's buisness became *his* buisness. Because he *knew* that look-he'd seen it looking back at him in the mirror for way too many years to ignore it.
Which is why, instead of sitting down to a nice breakfest of toast and eggs while watching the morning news, Doug was talking with his brother.
"You've been busy lately. I hardly see you anymore-not that I'm complaining." He snickered good-naturedly, but was slightly disturbed to see honest surprise on Pacey's face. He hadn't been aware that his brother kept track of his presence.
"Do you run into Joey often?"
Pacey flinched in preparation for the stinging pain of betrayal in his gut...but nothing came and he relaxed. "Nope, it's not that hard to avoid the `happy couple'. I know all of their hangouts..."
"I told you how it was going to go down, didn't I? I was right." In another tone of voice, at another time, from another person, those statements would have been arrogant and bordering on cruelty. But instead they came across as straightforward and almost caring.
"Yeah. You were right. But you know... I'm kinda glad. It never would have ended-the Dawson and Joey Soulmate Parade. Now it's like...starting over."
"Hmm... Starting over huh?" Doug leaned forward in his seat with deliberate casualness, but it wasn't fooling his younger brother one bit. He had seen the signs before-his brother was preparing for a predatory swoop.
"Starting over with Jack..?" Smiling in satisfaction, he let the question hang in the air.
"What?! I...?!" Pacey was genuinely rattled. Jack was his friend. And Pacey liked girls-and women also as the occasion warranted. //Ever heard of bisexuality? No!! Shut up! Shut up!// Sure, he felt very comfortable around the other boy. And sometimes that smile sent little tingles down his arms... But Doug was implying... //It doesn't sound nice? "Starting over" with Jack... being able to capture those fingers in yours whenever you want... having them paint pictures down your spine? Ok, so I haven't thought about it before...well...not really. But I've just been doing what felt good, what felt right...going on instinct... And it *worked*.// He could just continue to roll with it, run with it. Why not?
"Yeah. Maybe." Pacey was shocked at how calm his voice was, like they were chatting about the weather instead of the sexual implications of his closest friendship.
"Good." Doug relaxed against his chair, now satisified that his little brother was aware of what he was getting into and not wanting to completely invade the kid's privacy. "Just checking in. Doing my brotherly duty..."
"Umm...thanks. I'll just get ready to leave then. Catch you later..." Pacey practically sprinted from the room before he could blurt out anything stupid.
Sometimes the entire universe is against me, Pacey decided. //Hell, sometimes I think even *I* am against me//
The sidewalk was overflowing with pedestrians, blocking his progress at every turn. The sun beat down hard, heating his cells almost from the inside. A dog barked loudly, causing him to jump in alarm then cringe with the wash of humiliation that gets buried deep down inside-ready to resurface later at the next scheduled "pity party". //Just three more blocks to go. I can make it.// An idiot on a bicycle sped past, missing his foot by an inch. Gum ambushed the bottom of his left shoe. And then, finally, the diner. Quaint, touristy, but not "Leery's Fresh Fish"-a definite bonus. //What kind of name is that anyways? "Leery's Fresh Fish"...sounds like a cannery. Couldn't they have come up with a name that possessed at least a minute amount of dignity?//
Pressing both hands against a brightly painted door, Pacey slipped inside and spotted Jack almost immediately, feeling all of the stress melt away and his body relax. Jack sat in one of the booths, staring at his hands as they skimmed the surface of a glossy wood table. The fingers spread themselves out, investigating irregularities and gauging the texture. Watching the silent play before him, Pacey felt a fluttering in his stomach. It stretched across his insides and tied them in knots. And it was beautiful-it was butterflies.
A fleeting memory--coffee, rare words with his brother that night in jail: "...Somewhere along the line you just lose the butterflies. So question is, little brother, what are you going to do about it?...Look Pacey, uhhh, in my experience you don't come across that many people with the ability to give you butterflies. You just don't." Perhaps the dork had a point-even if he *did* have a alphabetized diva collection...
"Hey."
Jack looked up, startled, and burst into a wide smile. "I missed you."
The words sent a tingle of heat into Pacey's belly and he gave a grin of his own as he took a seat. "There was an equal quanity of missing on my side as well-you tend to rub off on a guy."
A rehearsed speech from the waitress abruptly broke the fragile mood. Eyes returned to the surroundings and expressions turned serious in contemplation of the menus. But a warm hand brushed against Pacey's and settled lightly over it, once again kicking the butterflies into full gear.
//Yeah, this was ok. It was good enough for now...//
~As Love Comes Tumbling Down~
~Every step I take,
Every sound I hear
Each day I wake
My world is ours,
I feel your touch
Your world is mine~
-Human Drama
//Oh my god.// Jack's thought process came to a screeching halt. Panic gripped him as a single fact, clear and undeniable, centered itself at the
very core of his being. //I'm in love with Pacey Witter! What in the... When in the hell did I fall in love with Pacey?!//
Jack poured over the past couple of years, sifting through momentary encounters in his mind. Joy, amusement, pity, anger, empathy, fear...these had all been related to Pacey in one way or another. But love? Stepping back in the most objective manner possible, Jack saw that the day he had kissed Ethan was the turning point. Things had evolved after that, worn a different hue. Yet...he didn't believe that he had loved Pacey then-not in the consuming, heart racing, sweaty palms, I've-gotta-eat-you-alive-or-die way that he did now. So when? When in the following 6 weeks had he fallen madly in love with his best friend?
Because he had-fallen in love that is. Love--people throw that word around like chewing gun or lip gloss. I *love* that shirt. I *love* Tom Hanks, don't you? I *love* that song. Did you see that? Brittany Jackson just looked at me! I am *so* in love with her. In fact, Jack himself had once written in his diary that he was in love with Ethan. But that was all meaningless, hollow...
This was...more than words. It was a dizzy buzzing in his head whenever he was in touching distance, it was an overwhelming fascination-he could study Pacey for hours, and it was the unclassifiable unexplainable "thing" that settled into Jack's chest at the simple thought of the other boy.
And then , of course, there was today...
"Damnit!" Jack rolled over and pulled the covers above his head. The ringing was successfully muffled, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Insomnia had held him in its grasp all night long, and had only relinquished it's prize 2 hours ago. Jack was sick with exhaustion-but that hellish phone wouldn't stop ringing.
The air under the comforter began to feel thick and hot, and paranoia began to set in. //I can't breathe as well anymore... What if I fall asleep and the air runs out? Oh shit! I'm going to suffocate!//
Adrenaline rushed through his body. Jack sat up in bed so fast that his head pounded. He took deep gulps of air, only to be greeted again by the persistent call of the telephone.
"Jeez! What time is it?" A quick glance at the clock further inflamed the young man. "7 in the morning!" Jack made a grab for the phone, missed, and gave it a second try.
"This better be good..." he growled into the receiver.
"What crawled up *your* butt and died?" A disgustingly cheerful voice sang from the ear piece.
Jack groaned, yet the anger seemed to have mysteriously vanished. "Your momma."
Pacey chuckled. Yep, Jack was tired all right. With a comeback like that... Pacey calculated that Jack had gotten about 2 hours of sleep. Ouch. "Get your lazy butt out of bed. We have a vital mission to undertake."
"We huh? And why wasn^�t *I* aware of this sacred duty then?" Suspicious of Pacey's lively tone, Jack had a feeling that he wouldn't get any more out of him over the phone.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
//I knew it.// "So when do I have to be equipped and ready for the Pacey mobile?"
"I'll be there in 10 minutes."
"What!" But Jack was already talking to a dial tone.
"You know, I don't think that I've ever seen you without gel in your hair before..." Pacey smirked at the bedraggled figure approaching his car.
"Shut up."
Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and Jack was *not amused*. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. //I didn't even have time to brush it. I hope wherever we're going is pretty private.// He stole a look at himself in Pacey's side-view mirror. //Make that a ghost town...//
"Alright, enough stalling. Get your ass in here." Pacey pushed open the passenger door and gestured impatiently to the other boy.
Jack turned and gave one last lingering look at his quiet house, with its soft warm bed. He could almost smell the pancakes his sister made on Saturday mornings...
"Here, I'll help you with your backpack."
A warm body brushed against his, and Jack lost all interest in the house the bed, and the breakfast. A tingling now firmly settled in his skin, Jack turned to give Pacey a shy smile.
"Thanks."
After a bit of rearranging, Jack was settled in nicely and the car pulled away from the curb. Pacey leaned back in his seat and relaxed, letting the full weight of his body rest against the seat.
"Hey Jack..."
"Yeah?"
"Aren't those the clothes you wore yesterday?"
"Shut up."
The truck sped down the highway at a reasonable speed-no sense of urgency yet purposeful nonetheless. The road was mainly deserted at that early hour, only the occasional car could be seen whizzing past. Jack stared out the window in silence as he tried to collect his thoughts. His brain was still waking up and everything seemed fuzzy.
"What are we doing again?"
"I haven't told you yet."
"So *tell* me!" Jack let out an exasperated groan.
"We're buying my brother a birthday present. There's this out of print 'Women in Music' compilation that I've heard Dougie bitching about on the phone. So I did a little research and found it at a used music store..."
Pacey smiled proudly, clearly impressed with his detective work. But Jack had an uncomfortable sensation creeping over him. He couldn't quite pin it down...
"Where *is* this used music store?"
"Ummm... an hour away..." Pacey met his eyes sheepishly.
Jack took a calming breath. "And why did we have to leave at 7am?"
Pacey could no longer look him in the face. "Because Doug's party is this afternoon.."
"Damnit Pacey! Have you ever heard of planning ahead?"
"Umm.. no?" Pacey gave him what he hoped was a charming and irresistible grin.
Jack shook his head and covered his face with his hands. "I am *so* tired."
"Cheer up Jackers, it could be fun." Trying to coax out a Pacey-smile the other boy took Jack's hand and placed it under his on the stick shift, thumb rubbing over it twice in soft, confident strokes. Threading his fingers through Jack's, Pacey continued to hold his hand as he shifted gears. Pleased and a little shocked at the show of affection, Jack settled into his seat for the long ride and began a lively conversation. The day seemed to be looking up...
"Jack!" Pacey's shout cut the other boy off mid-sentence. Jack was stunned to see Pacey swerving off to the side of the road and stopping the car.
"What's wrong?"
"How long have we been on the road?"
"I haven't been paying attention. Why?"
"Because I was wondering how far we'll have to walk to reach the nearest town..."
"What?! Very funny Pacey."
Pacey turned and met Jack's eyes with a serious expression. "We're out of gas."
"No! No! This isn't happening." Jack rested his head in his hands and concentrated all of his willpower on not screaming. "I know! I'm still dreaming-I never even woke up this morning. This day has been *too* insane to be real. I knew it!"
Pacey reached over and pinched his shoulder as hard as possible.
"Ow!!" Jack fixed him with an indignant look, wondering how it was that *he* was getting attacked while *Pacey* was the one who had yanked him out of bed at an ungodly hour, dragged him on an impromptu road-trip, and got them stranded out in the middle of nowhere.
"Had to prove that you weren't dreaming.." Pacey gave a disarming grin and shrugged. "Now get your butt out of this car. We have get started if we want to make it back to Capeside in time for the party."
"Pacey...sometimes..."
"Yes...?"
"Nevermind."
Jack slammed the car door viciously and began striding toward along the highway, kicking rocks as he went. He concentrated on the ground, giving the appearance that he didn't care whether Pacey followed or not while carefully guarding the other boy's movements in the corner of his eye. Pleased to note that Pacey was matching him stride for stride, Jack allowed himself a small private grin.
So here he was... Dirty, tired, and hungry. Walking down a dusty roadside to an unknown destination while his shoulder still ached from a sadistic pinch.
And he was sublimely happy.
A soft arm was twisted around his, while their fingers were trapped in a firm grip. He could feel the heat radiating off this nearby body, burning him deliciously. And, whenever he wanted to, he could brush dirt off the boy's cheek or forehead with intimate ease. His touch was welcomed, leaned into even...
There was no doubt about it. No hesitation. Only love could make a day this horrible become so beautiful.
Jack was in love with Pacey Witter. He didn't know when it had happened... But it felt great.
~For The First Time~
~For the first time in my life it isn't easy
All is right, all is wrong
I will love you anyway you want
Or all the ways if you choose
There is room for your fire here
I can feel the way it burns
-Human Drama
"My guilty secret..."
"What?" Jack forked over sixteen dollars to the vender and pocketed the tickets. As they left the window, the line that stretched out behind them finally advanced, full of grumbling moviegoers.
"I was saying that this used to be my guilty secret." Pacey passed through the entrance and waited impatiently as Jack handed the attendant their tickets. He was practically bouncing from foot to foot, worried that all of the good seats would be taken.
"Going to the movies is a guilty secret?" Jack turned to give his friend a look heavy with confusion.
"No you dork!" Pacey shook his head in affectionate amusement and grabbed Jack's arm, forcing him to speed up his pace. "Cheesy action movies! Where the acting is as bad as the special effects are over the top... With Spielberg Jr. for a best friend I couldn't really advertise paying hard earned cash to see crap." Pacey grinned and shrugged. "But crap can be fun. So I'd go alone sometimes. It's cool to have someone to see this stuff with..."
"Hey, what can I say? Me and cool, we go hand in hand." Spying the correct theatre on their right, Jack slapped an arm around Pacey's shoulder and yanked him inside just as the previews began.
Continued...