harshboldcharm | (no subject)

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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.

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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."

Wylie was shutting down again. He stared at Johnny, knowing he was upset and not wanting to hear the hurt in his voice or the frustration in his eyes. He'd been alone for so long that having someone else to think about felt strange. To top all that off, seeing that pain and anger and everything else was reminding him of being a kid and even though he'd never compare anything to what Garrett did to him, the anxiety wanted to rise and he wanted to run.

Wylie leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. HIs hair was still wet from the shower and he was struggling to breath. He couldn't say anything. He didn't have anything that would make it better, but he wasn't about to lie to him about how it feels. He wasn't going to lie about why he left or even that he could just get up and walk away whenever he wanted. He certainly didn't see it that way. It wasn't like he was walking away to go for something else. He was just running.

He did nothing though. Just sat their, burying his face in his palms, shoulders rising from uneven breaths while he tried to find something to focus on.

Johnny heard the jug click off as silence reigned in the apartment and he let out a frustrated sigh before he turned back to finish making the coffee. He brought two mugs into the main room and set one down in front of Wylie before he resumed his seat, cupping his own mug as he held it.

He hadn't forgotten how Wylie had his coffee. He hadn't forgotten anything. Three weeks wasn't enough to wash the other man out of his hair. Nowhere near enough, and Johnny didn't want to. He didn't want to forget Wylie, he didn't want to break up with him.

He kept the mug held securely in one hand before he reached out and rubbed his had slowly against Wylie's. "You do understand that sometimes people can hurt each other and still forgive each other, don't you? You came back. I think that's the thing to be focused on here. You could have stayed away, but you didn't. And I want you here, I want you back. I want to be with you."

Wylie didn't respond well. He didn't usually respond well to anything. He'd done the same kind of thing as a teenager. He shut down and turned mean when someone was trying to help him and what was worse is that he still remembered that and knew that he shouldn't be reacting that way, yet he did.

When Johnny touched him, Wylie flinched. It wasn't intentional, but it happened. He didn't look up. He dropped his hands from his face to clasp in front of him, elbows still on his knees. It wasn't guilt that he was feeling right now. It wasn't that he was feeling like he had done something horrible and he was staying to make it right. He was frozen in place, caught between wanted to stay and holding onto the willpower not to run.

"No," he answered him finally. His voice sounded strange, almost like he'd been crying, but his eyes were dry. "I've never had the chance to experience forgiveness. It's always been horrible people doing unspeakable things. So no, forgiveness is not something I learned. And don't fucking tell me what I should be doing or how I should be reacting or try and make sense out of it because it doesn't work that way in my head."

"Then what do you want from me?" Johnny asked him in exasperation. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm just... You're sitting there all fucking quiet and it's a little hard to know what you want. What you're thinking. Besides the fact that I should have turned you away at the door. Which, no, I really fucking shouldn't have. So don't feed that to me again. There's no turning you away. You're here now, so let's sort this out."

Johnny had seen the flinch, and he pulled his hand away instantly with a sigh. He couldn't even touch his own boyfriend. Yeah, this was a swell reunion. While he understood the damage that had been done to Wylie, and how it must have effected his way of thinking, it really wasn't so easy to deal with in reality. Johnny had thought he'd be ready for this. He wasn't. He was just trying his best.

Wylie stood up and walked away for a second, shoulders slumped and eyes down at the floor. He finally turned around, a frustration in his eyes that said somethign much deeper was going on in his head. He shook his head, giving up entirely, trying to hold it down as the muscles in his face tensed into a snarl. He'd always had a bit of a temper.

"I want you to kick me out so you can move on!" he yelled finally. "I want to not have to feel like I'm constantly letting someone down and know that you can find someone else that will treat you better because I won't. I know that and as much as I want to be there for you and be that guy that support and love you, it won't work that way. I may love you, I may want to support you, but I'll make it worse. Your life intertwined with mine will mean pain. And I can't change that about myself no matter how hard I've tried. So yes, you are better off without me and I can't explain that to you because you haven't seen the hurt, angry, broken side of me. Not yet. Not like you think."

Johnny got up and met Wylie head on as he sneered back at him. He could take the anger. In fact, maybe it was better that they just had it out like this, but Johnny still wasn't going to strike him. He refused to be that guy.

"You really want me to kick you the fuck out? Why, you got legs, you can walk the fuck out," he challenged as he stayed right in Wylie's personal space. "You've done it before. I'm not gonna be the fucking bad guy so that you get to leave with a free conscience and think that you're doing the right fucking thing by me. You're not, you know. You don't have to fucking support me. I'm a big boy, I wear big boy jocks. I've been looking after myself long enough. But not being able to love me? Yeah, we'll have a fucking problem there. If you can't let yourself feel anything for me, then go."

He set his jaw and looked down at him. This was the only time when his height was impressive enough to mean anything between them. "I don't want to be that guy that walks out!" he yelled right back, "I don't want to leave you. And no one said I wasn't able to love you. I am just not able to love you the right way. Not because I don't feel it. Not because I don't want to. Only because I've never known what it was like to have that and love came in the flavor of broken wrists and bruises!"

He'd learned long ago what his problem was. He'd learned that he was basing relationships on what he saw with his step dad. Maybe that wasn't enough to ruin him forever, but it royally fucked him up and he had no way of changing it now. At least he'd lost hope long ago.

Wylie might have had the height, but Johnny had a little more bulk than he did. He wasn't going to back down. He growled in frustration before grabbing Wylie by the back of the neck. "So don't fucking walk out, and stop trying to get me to fucking kick you out! I don't want you to leave. I never fucking wanted you to leave, so I'm not gonna start now." He kissed Wylie roughly, harshly as he tried to make him understand through action rather than words since the argument apparently wasn't getting them anywhere. "I don't care how you love me, just that you do. If we can change that, then good... So much the better. But I'm willing to take the time, and I'm willing to try."

He would have cursed, but suddenly his lips were against Johnny's. Rough, raw, desperate. He wanted it. He needed. He had always been the one to do the pushing. He'd always been the one that shoved around the people he loved. Never had he expected to be the one receiving the same treatment. Wylie growled, almost a groan, against Johnny's lips. He could say anything even as Johnny pulled away, just staring at him before Wylie shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. He wasn't walking out. That was all he had to offer.

Johnny smoothed his hand over Wylie's neck, loosening his grip just a little before he kissed him again, softer this time. He deepened it quickly, drawing it out for as long as Wylie would let him. "Just stay tonight," he murmured against his lips. "Please. Come to bed with me."

every man and their dog decided to call me :/

hehe, that's alright. :)

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boo dead modem

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I was out all day. XD

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

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