harshboldcharm | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

He left the apartment and the month's rent. The last thing he said to Johnny was a text one his weekend with Alice saying, 'Give her a hug for me.' After that? Radio silence. Wylie was crowded. He was feeling the pressures of what he'd have to live up to with a boyfriend who wanted to be serious - who could see something like falling in their future. There was a daughter to consider. There was hearts. There was everything that came with it. Wylie wasn't willing to put them through it.

Three weeks went by. He traveled with just a backpack of stuff. He'd left anything too big to carry on his bike in storage. He'd have to come back to town to get it, but he figured if he waited long enough, he could sneak into town and leave before anything could go wrong. But over those three weeks while he was out losing himself on the road, he was finding himself just as much.

If you asked him, he wouldn't be able to tell you how he ended up back at the apartment building that housed Johnny's place. It had been raining, the leather jacket he wore not enough to shield him from the elements. As he stood outside his door, eyes fixated on the number beside it while he blanked out. Why he was there, he'd never be able to answer. He should have kept going. He should have left it all behind. But now he was standing there, dripping wet and soaked through, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He knocked, not caring that it was easily past midnight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Johnny never used to smoke inside his apartment. It was a rule he had because of Alice. Just like he never used to let her meet anyone he brought home for sex. But Wylie hadn't been just sex. And he'd meant something to both of them. Now there was nothing. No texts, no calls. Alice kept asking her dad where his boyfriend had gone, but Johnny had no answers. He'd passed pissed off after the first week and had since moved onto not being able to sleep, and a deep depression. He knew when to take a hint.

This had been what Wylie had warned him about after all, right? He'd break his heart.

Johnny had just expected there to be a conversation involved so he actually knew where he stood. Not just a sudden disappearance and being left in limbo. He took another drag on the cigarette he had between his lips as he stared up at the ceiling, only dragging himself out of his thoughts when he heard the knock. His stomach instantly twisted as his mind went to an accident involving Alice, but he pulled himself together enough to get on a pair of sweatpants to go and answer the door.

He hadn't even dared to hope that it could be Wylie, but there he was. For a moment all he could do was stare. "Hey."

He looked like a wreck. Wylie's stomach twisted into a knot at the sight of him, disheveled and smoking. He knew he didn't smoke inside. It was for Alice... he assumed she wasn't here then. Wylie shifted, repositioning the backpack on his shoulder and kept his eyes on Johnny's. There was a long, uncomfortable silence that hung between them. Wylie was berating himself. He shouldn't have returned. He should have just left him behind and been done with it. If he had, he wouldn't be feeling all this guilt and pain staring at the man that had wanted to find something more.

"Hey," he replied weakly. He couldn't imagine what he was supposed to say next. He hadn't even meant to show up here. He'd just meant to... he didn't know. He was hoping that Johnny would yell and slam the door. Then he could leave and be done with it.

Johnny wanted to deck him. That was what he really wanted to. He wanted to punch Wylie square on the jaw and see if he could crack a bone. He had hurt him deeply, and he was starting to feel the anger rise up again, but he wouldn't ever actually strike Wylie. Not after what had happened between him and his stepfather. He still cared enough to not want to be the bastard that brought that all back up again.

He scratched his thumb against his forehead as he took another drag on his cigarette and then just shook his head before he stepped aside. "Get out of the rain, Wylie. You'll get sick. I'll find some towels."

It was all he said before he disappeared, not even waiting to see if Wylie actually came in. Maybe it was a test. Maybe he actually wanted to see if Wylie would take the out, or if he was going to stay this time.

Johnny gave a command and turned, leaving the door open. Wylie didn't move. He stood in the threshold, staring down at where outside met in, facing the the next step of what he'd done. He'd have to face it. He'd have to own up to being a complete bastard about who he was. He knew that it would come to this. Why did he care enough to want to fix it?

He sighed and shut his eyes, taking a step inside. He carefully shut the door behind him, standing just inside the door, looking frightened and out of his element. He swallowed hard and glanced down at himself, seeing how soaked he was. How long had he stood in the rain before he finally walked to the door? And why was Johnny letting him in? If it hit him, he'd at least feel like he deserved it.

He ran his free hand through his wet hair, slicking it back and out of his face.

Johnny had always been a talker. He'd always been affectionate. Nothing had ever really crushed him so badly, not since his divorce. As toxic as the marriage had become, he'd always loved Anna. And he had been scared of the effect it might have had on Alice, but she'd come out of it okay. She saw the silver lining in two parents with two houses and two lots of presents on birthdays and holidays. He envied her resilience.

When he came back out with an armful of towels he just dropped them onto the floor without a word. Wylie had always been the one to get away without saying anything, but Johnny wasn't going to let him this time. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to know what the fuck Wylie had been thinking. If Wylie wanted out, if he wanted this over, then he was going to have to work for it. He was going to have to say it.

Wylie didn't move from where he stood when Johnny returned. He slipped the backpack off his shoulder and onto the floor, making no move towards the towels. Instead he slowly unzipped his jacket, slipping it off and dropping it on top of his backpack. His heart was hammering in his chest. Everything about this was horrible. It was worse than he'd expected. He shouldn't have come back.

"I found Charlotte," he said softly, taking a single step forward. "I needed to know that she moved on with her life after me. I... I had ruined her... I..." he glanced down and took a deep breath. "She was a sweet girl with a big heart and I made her life hell on purpose. I found her, that last bit of who I was dying away when I saw that she's gorgeous and just fine..."

He'd talked about Charlotte before. She was the only thing he had a memory of that made his life worth it. She'd been his first love even though she didn't know it. He left her behind, too. It wasn't the only reason he'd left Johnny. He'd meant to leave and not come back without anything else... but Charlotte reminded him of what he was now missing and it had nothing to do with her.

Johnny picked up one of the towels and draped it over Wylie's shoulders as he just arched his eyebrow. Charlotte was the ex, the great big love of his life until it all went wrong. Johnny didn't know if that made him feel worse, or better. Wylie had apparently needed closure on that part of his life, and now he felt better. Good for him. Johnny couldn't help if that made him wonder if he was looking for closure about them too.

"You could have told me," he finally said, his voice low and scratchy. He hadn't used it in days other than to talk to Alice. Even at the bar all he did know was grunt. He wasn't exactly a joy to be around and he knew it. The cigarette still dangled between his lips as he looked at Wylie. "I just wanted to know you were okay."

Wylie dragged the towel off his shoulders. He wanted to feel cold. Something in the misery was what he needed to keep him alert. If he felt comfortable then he'd lose his edge. Holding the towel in his hand, arms at his sides he stared at the man in the room who looked very little like the man he left behind.

"I was leaving you," he admitted. It poured out of him before he could stop it. He waited, almost hoping that Johnny would finally hit him.

Again, Johnny wasn't going to give into the urge to punch him. When Wylie took the towel away Johnny just huffed out a breath and moved to drop down onto the couch. He exhaled smoke up towards the ceiling as he let out a hollow laugh. "Finally you have the balls to say it. So just fuck off already, Wylie. Why are you even here if it's not where you want to be? Because you're the great untouchable Wylie Kerns that can't have anyone falling for him. Heaven forbid you ever experience love, or happiness again."

"Put the cigarette out, Johnny," he said, staring at him, ignoring what he'd said. "You don't smoke in the house because of Alice and if I managed to fuck you up enough that you don't give a shit about that anymore, then my leaving wasn't your biggest problem." He dropped the towel and finally stepped forward again.

"I was leaving you. I was trying to. I thought that leaving would stop me from feeling anything and that you'd survive without me better, but then I found myself face to face with my past, seeing that even she thought I was a fucking idiot and suddenly the fact that your face was constantly behind my eyes every time I blinked had to mean something bigger than me being afraid."

Johnny narrowed his eyes at Wylie briefly before he leaned forward to stub out the cigarette in the already full ashtray. It wasn't his weekend with Alice yet, so he'd clean it out and get back to smoking outside by Saturday. Or at least that was what he told himself.

"So what are you actually saying?" Johnny asked as he rubbed a hand over his face tiredly and tried to focus. The only downside to working in a bar was that when you were really in the mood to, you could bring home something to get drunk on pretty easy. And Johnny had done that the last three nights. This was the first one he'd spent sober, but it was still a struggle. "As you can see, I haven't fucking survived better without you. You left me in bloody limbo, Wylie. I didn't know where you'd gone. I didn't know if you had fucked off on me. I didn't know if you'd come back. I didn't know if I was supposed to hope that you'd come back. You were just... gone. So you aren't leaving me. You've come back?"

"I shot this to shit," he said bluntly, "I'm fucking stupid. I know. I'm afraid of being close because the only people I've ever had either beat me or died. In return, people I get close to, I treat like shit. I can try and be better, but I can't promise it will always work."

He looked down and sighed. Shutting his eyes he steeled himself before looking up at him again. "I want to be back. I don't want to leave you... I don't want to keep doing this to you either. I... I'm sorry, Jona." He looked pained to say that. It wasn't easy on him to admit when he was wrong and he had still failed to explain how he really felt about this man that was once his lover. He wasn't sure if he could say what he was thinking about him, what he was feeling.

Johnny combed his fingers through his hair and for the first time he had actually wished that he didn't look like shit. That he looked fucking awesome, and that Wylie would be down on his knees begging to be taken back. Or begging to be fucked. The sex they could do without problems. Maybe Johnny should have just left it at the sex, but he hadn't. He'd pushed for more, craved more.

And this was what he got.

He looked up at Wylie and shrugged his shoulder slightly before he rest his head in his hand, his elbow braced against the arm rest of the couch. "As long as you don't fuck off on me again, I can take being treated like shit once in a while. I'd rather you just told me you wanted out and didn't just run. At least that's something I can deal with. Being in limbo fucking sucks, okay?" He stayed quiet as he just stared at the coffee table and then blinked himself back from the hole his mind had got lost in. "Dry off. Please. Take a hot shower if you need to. If you're back, then be back. We'll work this out slowly."

He couldn't respond because he didn't know how there would be anything to say to make this right. He dried himself off instead and toed off his shoes. Grabbing his backpack, he went back to shower. Maybe a few minutes separated would do them good. He wasn't sure if that was really what they needed or not, because what the fuck did Wylie know about relationships? After the shower, he pulled something from his bag that was dry, which consisted of a pair of jeans that were tucked in the bottom. Everything else was damp.

He finally returned, shirtless, but not for any good reason and walked towards the couch. He sat himself down, right next to Johnny so that their legs were touching. Wylie, without thinking and without allowing himself the time to back off, wrapped his arm around Jona's shoulders and pulled him towards him. Pressing his lips to Johnny's temple, Wylie shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. He'd forgotten how much loved how he smelled. Granted, at the moment he smelled like cigarette smoke, but that only served to make him hurt even more that he'd pushed him to that.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, voice muffled as he was nuzzled against him. "I'm sorry, Jona." Wylie tightened his hold on him. "I didn't know... until I left that," Wylie squeezed his eyes shut, mouth pressed to his lover's temple still, "I'm falling. Hard. I can't control it and I hate that feeling, but I can't leave you."

Despite the fact that he had heard the water running, Johnny had let himself wonder for a good few minutes if it had all been a dream. If Wylie really wasn't there at all. It was just some fucked up way for his mind to try and give him the fantasy of what it would be like if his boyfriend did return. There was technically no breaking up, so it wasn't like he was the ex.

Once Wylie had sat down next to him, and he could feel the heat of his thigh against his, Johnny wanted to cry. He couldn't help it. He wanted to just burst into tears and let all the pressure out. Try and lift the weight that was sitting on his chest.

Even as Wylie pulled him close, kissed his temple, Johnny let out a choked sob. Wylie was real, and he was there, and he smelled so fucking good. It was a scent that had been present on Johnny's pillow until recently. It had haunted him, reminded him of who wasn't around any more. But here he was, in the flesh. "Don't ever fucking do that to me again," Johnny said just before he let out another sob. "I can take anything but the not knowing. Just tell me the next time you have to fuck off. Man up." He rest his hand against Wylie's thigh before he gave it a squeeze, still trying to reassure himself that he hadn't drunk himself into a mirage. "I'm not even gonna tell you if I'm really falling or not, because I don't want you to go back out that door."

Wylie didn't fight him. He wouldn't fight him. He pulled him closer, moving so that Johnny's head was against his chest, still sitting. Wylie bent his head and pressed his lips to the back of Johnny's neck, bodies tangled on the couch. It hurt to know that those strained words spoken through sobs was all because of him. Wylie didn't like hurting people, but he did it and he did it often. He was a disaster of his own and trying to sort out why he was one? Well, that wasn't the hard part. The hard part was figuring out how to stop and then watching as he destroyed his loved ones lives. At least what 'loved ones' he had left.

"Stop," he commanded, his voice rough and spoken through clenched teeth. "Don't stop being honest with me now. I'm a fuck up and I've got a shit ton to learn, but I am not letting you fall apart because I'm an awful person." Wylie nuzzled against him, shifting to get his lips by his lover's ear. "Are you falling? God, tell me I'm not the only one."

Johnny shuddered slightly at the fell of Wylie's lips on his neck. He let out a deep breath and tried to stem the sudden tide of emotion before it pulled him down. He didn't want to just sit there a blubbering mess. And god did it ever feel good to be hugged up against Wylie's chest again. Maybe he was skinny, but it was comforting to Johnny. It felt warm, and familiar and the hole in his heart was starting to fill.

He stopped, although he wasn't actually sure what he was supposed to be stopping. So he just sat there and held his breath for a moment as he at least worked on stopping the sobbing. He was a wreck and he knew it. Johnny was always a together guy, but when he lost it, he really went off the deep end.

"I fell before you left," Johnny admitted in a hushed whisper. He was always too scared to say it any louder, but Wylie wanted the truth. His grip tightened on Wylie's thigh, trying to keep him in place no matter how hard this was for him. "I was just trying to wait for you to catch up. I didn't expect you to run away instead, so maybe that was my mistake."

Wylie wasn't a crier. He'd never been a crier. When he did, it had to take something truely jarring to make him feel that crying was the only response. Mostly, it had involved his stepdad. Once he was able to fight back, hurting Garrett had always made him hurt inside. This wasn't the same.

At Johnny's admission, Wylie swallowed hard, his eyes shutting and he let it sink in. There were two emotions that coursed through him when he hear it; fear for all the things that hurt too badly to face. Fear that he would be exposed to more pain than he wanted to see. Then, there was relief. Relief that he wasn't the only one feeling. Relief that Wylie didn't have to face this alone.

Wylie brought one hand up to the back of Johnny's neck, the closest thing he knew to a soothing gesture. He pressed his nose into his hair and steeled himself, trying to stop the amount of pain and guilt and something else burning below the surface. "Jona," he spoke his name softly, no purpose in saying other than he could.

Johnny let his eyes fall closed as he reached up, his free hand resting on the side of Wylie's neck in the strange embrace. For a long moment he couldn't bring himself to try and speak again. First and foremost he was afraid that he really would come off sounding like a blubbering mess.

Second, he actually just wanted to absorb the fact that Wylie was still here and they were trying to have this conversation as best they could.

After what felt like several minutes ticked past Johnny moved, lifting his head to look at Wylie before he leaned in to kiss him. Brushing his lips against the other man's chastely at first before he let the kiss linger and slowly deepen.

It wasn't until Johnny shifted that Wylie allowed himself to look at him. It hurt more than he'd imagined that it would to return here and see him this broken. He'd never wanted to hurt him that badly. He always just assumed that if Wylie was gone, people's lives would be better, but apparently that wasn't always the case.

When his lips pressed against Wylie's, he exhaled slowly, his mind suddenly trying to make sense of why he would have left in the first place. It was starting to feel impossible. He brought his hand up to grace his thumb against Johnny's jaw, fingers gently on his neck.

Johnny pulled back a little to look at Wylie. A part of him still didn't understand how he could have just up and left, but there was a larger part of him that got it. He did. It didn't stop him from feeling broken though. From feeling abandoned, or kicked in the guts. He rubbed his fingers against Wylie's neck, some life finally returning to his eyes. "I've missed you so much, Wylie. So fucking much..."

Johnny sighed before he kissed him again, a little deeper. Wylie had always tasted so good. Kissing was something to take for granted when you were with someone, but as soon as they were gone it was all you thought about.

Wylie couldn't understand why he was willing to let him back. He couldn't understand why he deserved any kind of forgiveness at all. In fact, if it had been him, Wylie wouldn't have taken him back. It was as simple as that, really. He sighed, feeling Johnny's fingers against his skin as he admitted to missing him. Wylie bit back the urge to shake his head in protest.

He did kiss him though. He continued to deepen it, until Wylie pulled back, eyes shut and breathing heavily. "You should have turned me away at the door," he whispered.

Johnny just stared at him and then tried to wriggle out of Wylie's hold. "Are you fucking serious? Are you... I..." He just stared at the younger man in disbelief, not sure he'd actually heard the whispered words correctly. "You're serious. Fuck, Wylie. Of course I'm not going to turn you away from the door. Do you remember the part where I fell? That pretty much means whatever shit you do, I'm gonna take you back. I can't not. Jesus, these past few weeks have fucking sucked without you. And now you're here, and you're back and you don't want to break up. Why wouldn't I take you back? Seriously?"

"It's not about whether you would... it's about whether you should. There's a point where being in love with someone doesn't make it okay," he opened his eyes and looked at him. Johnny had no idea what it was like to live in his own head. It was miserable and to think that his misery has finally caught up with him enough that he was pushing it out onto other people made him feel worse. There was nothing about this relationship that was safe for Johnny. He had already admitted to knowing that he'd break his heart and then he went on and did just that.

Wylie shook his head, "I left you. I left to escape and leave you behind. I wanted out and now I'm here ad I don't understand it, but it would be easier if you didn't let me come back."

Johnny untangled himself successfully this time from Wylie and got up to disappear into the kitchen. He was struggling to be able to talk to Wylie when all he wanted to do was yell at him for being so fucking stubborn. He could only imagine what it was like inside Wylie's head for him to be rejecting Johnny's love so readily, even though he was sitting there begging him to tell him that he had fallen for him.

It was a headfuck, and Johnny wasn't together enough to deal with it logically. He slammed cupboards and cups around as he started to make coffee, his brain slowly starting to come to life but it needed more of a kick start.

He hovered in the doorway to the kitchen when the jug was set to boil and looked at Wylie. "Shit happens, Wylie. I'm not denying it, and yeah, it fucking hurt what you just did. It fucking hurts knowing that you really are capable of just getting up and walking the fuck off whenever you feel like it, but the difference comes down to the repair. And salvaging what we do have. Or starting again. I don't know, I'm hardly a fucking expert, but this is way less destructive than my marriage ever was, even if you don't believe me."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

every man and their dog decided to call me :/

hehe, that's alright. :)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

boo dead modem

no subject

no subject

I was out all day. XD

my shit got changed so i was home all morning then out all night :(

no subject

no subject