Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2013-01-07 04:46 pm
ptahrrific) wrote2013-01-07 04:46 pm
Entry tags:
Fake News | Jon/"Stephen" | PG | Resolution
Title: Resolution
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen", correspondents
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the Report. Names of real people are used in a fictitious context, and all dialogue, actions, and content are products of the author's imagination only.
Follow-up to the 1/5/11 toss, in which Stephen makes New Year's Resolutions for Jon.
(Wifeless AU for Jon, post-divorce for Stephen.)
Mirror on the AO3.
1. Lose that embarrassing muffin-top.
Jon flips to the end of the printout (of course Stephen printed up the whole thing; never miss a chance to strike down the trees, or they'll think you're soft). Four hundred and fifty-nine. He wonders if Stephen makes lists like this for all his friends, or if he just got lucky.
The first one gives him an approximate date for how long this took to come together. Back at the Rally, during a quick-change between acts, he was halfway through shedding the stars-and-stripes pullover ensemble when Stephen grabbed him from behind, cold fingers pressing into the softness of his stomach. "Don't complain," he ordered, before Jon had a chance to. "It's your fault I'm tense, and I left all my stress balls at home, so you'll just have to do."
Although maybe Stephen had been keeping an eye on his waistline for longer, and that was just the first time he brought it up. Jon's not sure how he feels about that.
3. Demonstrate basic human decency toward employees.
This one has been rankling since the toss. "I am too a decent human being," says Jon under his breath as he faces it down in print.
Olivia and Sam share a look that would have bothered him if he'd been paying more attention. "Jon," says Sam, "are you reading the conservative blogs again?"
22. Have more of those expensive spiced coffees around. I know how much Stephen likes them.
Stephen looks thrilled, but doesn't say anything before taking a gulp, which gives him plausible deniability after he spits the whole thing back out. "Stop trying to tempt me with your latte-sipping liberal ways!"
"I thought you liked them," stutters Jon, dabbing a few drops of Cinnamon Dolce Blended Crème from his face and distantly marveling at Stephen's range.
"Well, obviously I don't, do I?" demands Stephen, wiping a trickle of same from his own chin. "Knew there was a reason I had never bought any before. Drinks with accents in the name. I mean, really, what kind of sustenance is that for an American?"
97. Get myself to the dentist and find out what's wrong with my teeth.
In spite of himself, Jon spends ten minutes with a hand mirror and a series of increasingly twisted grimaces. Everything looks fine. Or could his gums be a little redder than usual? Nothing hurts. That's good, right?
He makes an appointment anyway, and goes on reading the list in the waiting room.
121. Smile properly when people take photos of me. (After completing #97)
The receptionist has to call his name three times before he hears.
145. Remodel the bathroom. Maybe get one of those jacuzzi tubs. I know how much Stephen likes them.
Jon entertains himself with the image of Stephen trying to do a spit-take with an entire jacuzzi. Somewhere along the line that turns into an image of Stephen in a jacuzzi, flailing around like a puppy on its first trip to the ocean.
It doesn't go any further than that. Not like Stephen's ever going to see his bathtub anyway.
212. Realize that, while "Roll 212!" was cool the first time, it got old fast and I should shut up about it already.
Yeah, okay, that's fair.
213. In particular, realize that it does not look suave and awesome to shout it while setting the microwave to 2:12 to warm up a frozen burrito.
He did that once. Once!
Just his luck it happened to be right as Wyatt came in looking for oranges (the segment never made it to air, but it would have involved an ivory-handled cane and at least three of props' five separate foam hands). After that it couldn't help but get back to Stephen. Most embarrassing things do, somehow.
359. Visit my kids more often.
That doesn't even make sense. Jon's kids live in the same house as....
Oh.
He does a little poking around on the Internet, then punches up Stephen's number. "Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something? I accidentally ended up with this extra ticket to a horseback riding thing. They give you a lesson, then take you for a ride around the trail...you know anyone who really likes horses that I could give it to?"
"Ooh!" exclaims Stephen. "Ooh, me! I like horses!"
"Great!" says Jon brightly. "Oh, listen, I forgot to mention: it's a package deal. One adult ticket came with three free kid tickets. I don't suppose you know any children between the ages of six and sixteen who might be willing to come along, spend a Saturday with you?"
"You're never going to believe this," breathes Stephen, "but my kids are that exact age."
371. Research: how men have sex (according to said men, not angry church leaders)
This is probably another one Stephen meant for himself, and put on Jon's list by accident.
He downloads a couple of videos anyway.
Obviously he was already aware of the basics, but it's a very enjoyable refresher.
372. Research: shame + recovery
No matter how much Jon feels for Stephen, no matter how excellent his cause is, he's not going to drag his whole show into the process. He's not going to order an extended piece on the collapse of "ex-gay ministries," and the way their founders seem to keep renouncing the whole thing and running off with each other, just to make a point to someone he cares about.
He will, however, do the preliminary research himself and print out all the results (an email would be too easy to delete) to pile on Stephen's desk.
"We considered doing a piece about this, but ultimately had to cut it," he explains. "Not because it isn't important! We just had other things to cover...important, timely, election-related things...but we thought maybe if the Report wanted to explore the subject, you could use our notes as a jumping-off point."
Stephen flips through the first handful of pages, and frowns. "Jon," he says, with uncharacteristic seriousness, "are you trying to tell me something? Possibly something to do with yourself, and some kind of secret indecent homoerotic lust? I'm not saying about me, obviously, I'm just saying, in general—"
"Stephen, don't be ridiculous..."
"Of course not!" Stephen picks at the printout. "It's unfair to make insinuations about a fine upstanding—"
"...it's never been a secret."
432. Stop undercutting the premise of my end-of-show chats with Stephen.
"Why do you keep agreeing with me?" wails Stephen. "You're supposed to argue, so I can defeat you in verbal combat and have my hosting expertise confirmed in the eyes of anyone who was thinking of not watching my show!"
"Sorry, Stephen," says Jon pleasantly. "I'll get back to that right away."
"Aaaaagh!" cries Stephen, letting his head fall to the desk in a sweeping gesture of despair.
In his dramatic expression, he misses the way Jon grins, teeth flashing.
433. Stop talking during my end-of-show chats with Stephen.
Jon tries charades. He would've tried Pictionary, but the giant blank notepad prop is in Arizona so Jason can film a bit with it.
He doesn't get past the first word. All he can think of to do is point to himself, and Stephen yells things like "Old! Newsman! Fashion disaster! Jew! Pretty blue eyes? Sad basset hound? Exasperated! Hitting...face? Feels like your face? Leather! Clay!" until they're thirty seconds over time and the stage manager is frantically pointing to a sign that says so.
With a nod, Jon waves goodbye and points to the camera. "Goodbye...me?" says Stephen, in the second before he winks out. "Goodbye Stephen! Did I get it?"
434. Stop talking in Stephen's presence at all.
His timing is perfect. Stephen is just stumbling out of the shower, freshly cleansed of stage makeup and sweat with his hair not yet re-gelled, when Jon closes the office door behind him.
"Jon!" exclaims Stephen, then narrows his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Jon shrugs. He's smiling again.
"Was that a good shrug or a bad shrug?" demands Stephen, only getting louder as Jon approaches. "You shouldn't be so ambiguous, Jon! That way lies madness — anarchy — philosophy degrees! You have to be clear, and consistent, and decisive, and—"
435. Just kiss Stephen, already.
"—aummphumuf."
Eventually he gets the picture and stops trying to talk. His hands cup Jon's face, his mouth opens for Jon's tongue, and yeah, this is nice. Jon could definitely do this again.
"Was one of your resolutions to not talk to me?" pants Stephen, after Jon lets him go. "Because you could break that one, if you wanted. Not that I'm giving you permission to break any of the others, you understand...."
"Wouldn't dream of it," says Jon. "By the way, I made a few resolutions for you, too. There's only like half a page of them, so you shouldn't have any trouble keeping up."
1. Stop sublimating my attraction to Jon into an obsessive fixation on every aspect of his life, and start expressing it the normal way instead.
Stephen successfully restrains himself from commenting on Jon's lackluster choice of wallpaper, his furniture that looks like it was shipped here straight from the eighties, and how he really needs to do some stretches or something because his flexibility is abysmal.
The normal way turns out to be wonderful, if sticky.
As Jon cleans him up a warm washcloth over his skin, though, Stephen can't resist one tiny comment. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you had a jacuzzi."
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen", correspondents
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the Report. Names of real people are used in a fictitious context, and all dialogue, actions, and content are products of the author's imagination only.
Follow-up to the 1/5/11 toss, in which Stephen makes New Year's Resolutions for Jon.
(Wifeless AU for Jon, post-divorce for Stephen.)
Mirror on the AO3.
1. Lose that embarrassing muffin-top.
Jon flips to the end of the printout (of course Stephen printed up the whole thing; never miss a chance to strike down the trees, or they'll think you're soft). Four hundred and fifty-nine. He wonders if Stephen makes lists like this for all his friends, or if he just got lucky.
The first one gives him an approximate date for how long this took to come together. Back at the Rally, during a quick-change between acts, he was halfway through shedding the stars-and-stripes pullover ensemble when Stephen grabbed him from behind, cold fingers pressing into the softness of his stomach. "Don't complain," he ordered, before Jon had a chance to. "It's your fault I'm tense, and I left all my stress balls at home, so you'll just have to do."
Although maybe Stephen had been keeping an eye on his waistline for longer, and that was just the first time he brought it up. Jon's not sure how he feels about that.
3. Demonstrate basic human decency toward employees.
This one has been rankling since the toss. "I am too a decent human being," says Jon under his breath as he faces it down in print.
Olivia and Sam share a look that would have bothered him if he'd been paying more attention. "Jon," says Sam, "are you reading the conservative blogs again?"
22. Have more of those expensive spiced coffees around. I know how much Stephen likes them.
Stephen looks thrilled, but doesn't say anything before taking a gulp, which gives him plausible deniability after he spits the whole thing back out. "Stop trying to tempt me with your latte-sipping liberal ways!"
"I thought you liked them," stutters Jon, dabbing a few drops of Cinnamon Dolce Blended Crème from his face and distantly marveling at Stephen's range.
"Well, obviously I don't, do I?" demands Stephen, wiping a trickle of same from his own chin. "Knew there was a reason I had never bought any before. Drinks with accents in the name. I mean, really, what kind of sustenance is that for an American?"
97. Get myself to the dentist and find out what's wrong with my teeth.
In spite of himself, Jon spends ten minutes with a hand mirror and a series of increasingly twisted grimaces. Everything looks fine. Or could his gums be a little redder than usual? Nothing hurts. That's good, right?
He makes an appointment anyway, and goes on reading the list in the waiting room.
121. Smile properly when people take photos of me. (After completing #97)
The receptionist has to call his name three times before he hears.
145. Remodel the bathroom. Maybe get one of those jacuzzi tubs. I know how much Stephen likes them.
Jon entertains himself with the image of Stephen trying to do a spit-take with an entire jacuzzi. Somewhere along the line that turns into an image of Stephen in a jacuzzi, flailing around like a puppy on its first trip to the ocean.
It doesn't go any further than that. Not like Stephen's ever going to see his bathtub anyway.
212. Realize that, while "Roll 212!" was cool the first time, it got old fast and I should shut up about it already.
Yeah, okay, that's fair.
213. In particular, realize that it does not look suave and awesome to shout it while setting the microwave to 2:12 to warm up a frozen burrito.
He did that once. Once!
Just his luck it happened to be right as Wyatt came in looking for oranges (the segment never made it to air, but it would have involved an ivory-handled cane and at least three of props' five separate foam hands). After that it couldn't help but get back to Stephen. Most embarrassing things do, somehow.
359. Visit my kids more often.
That doesn't even make sense. Jon's kids live in the same house as....
Oh.
He does a little poking around on the Internet, then punches up Stephen's number. "Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something? I accidentally ended up with this extra ticket to a horseback riding thing. They give you a lesson, then take you for a ride around the trail...you know anyone who really likes horses that I could give it to?"
"Ooh!" exclaims Stephen. "Ooh, me! I like horses!"
"Great!" says Jon brightly. "Oh, listen, I forgot to mention: it's a package deal. One adult ticket came with three free kid tickets. I don't suppose you know any children between the ages of six and sixteen who might be willing to come along, spend a Saturday with you?"
"You're never going to believe this," breathes Stephen, "but my kids are that exact age."
371. Research: how men have sex (according to said men, not angry church leaders)
This is probably another one Stephen meant for himself, and put on Jon's list by accident.
He downloads a couple of videos anyway.
Obviously he was already aware of the basics, but it's a very enjoyable refresher.
372. Research: shame + recovery
No matter how much Jon feels for Stephen, no matter how excellent his cause is, he's not going to drag his whole show into the process. He's not going to order an extended piece on the collapse of "ex-gay ministries," and the way their founders seem to keep renouncing the whole thing and running off with each other, just to make a point to someone he cares about.
He will, however, do the preliminary research himself and print out all the results (an email would be too easy to delete) to pile on Stephen's desk.
"We considered doing a piece about this, but ultimately had to cut it," he explains. "Not because it isn't important! We just had other things to cover...important, timely, election-related things...but we thought maybe if the Report wanted to explore the subject, you could use our notes as a jumping-off point."
Stephen flips through the first handful of pages, and frowns. "Jon," he says, with uncharacteristic seriousness, "are you trying to tell me something? Possibly something to do with yourself, and some kind of secret indecent homoerotic lust? I'm not saying about me, obviously, I'm just saying, in general—"
"Stephen, don't be ridiculous..."
"Of course not!" Stephen picks at the printout. "It's unfair to make insinuations about a fine upstanding—"
"...it's never been a secret."
432. Stop undercutting the premise of my end-of-show chats with Stephen.
"Why do you keep agreeing with me?" wails Stephen. "You're supposed to argue, so I can defeat you in verbal combat and have my hosting expertise confirmed in the eyes of anyone who was thinking of not watching my show!"
"Sorry, Stephen," says Jon pleasantly. "I'll get back to that right away."
"Aaaaagh!" cries Stephen, letting his head fall to the desk in a sweeping gesture of despair.
In his dramatic expression, he misses the way Jon grins, teeth flashing.
433. Stop talking during my end-of-show chats with Stephen.
Jon tries charades. He would've tried Pictionary, but the giant blank notepad prop is in Arizona so Jason can film a bit with it.
He doesn't get past the first word. All he can think of to do is point to himself, and Stephen yells things like "Old! Newsman! Fashion disaster! Jew! Pretty blue eyes? Sad basset hound? Exasperated! Hitting...face? Feels like your face? Leather! Clay!" until they're thirty seconds over time and the stage manager is frantically pointing to a sign that says so.
With a nod, Jon waves goodbye and points to the camera. "Goodbye...me?" says Stephen, in the second before he winks out. "Goodbye Stephen! Did I get it?"
434. Stop talking in Stephen's presence at all.
His timing is perfect. Stephen is just stumbling out of the shower, freshly cleansed of stage makeup and sweat with his hair not yet re-gelled, when Jon closes the office door behind him.
"Jon!" exclaims Stephen, then narrows his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Jon shrugs. He's smiling again.
"Was that a good shrug or a bad shrug?" demands Stephen, only getting louder as Jon approaches. "You shouldn't be so ambiguous, Jon! That way lies madness — anarchy — philosophy degrees! You have to be clear, and consistent, and decisive, and—"
435. Just kiss Stephen, already.
"—aummphumuf."
Eventually he gets the picture and stops trying to talk. His hands cup Jon's face, his mouth opens for Jon's tongue, and yeah, this is nice. Jon could definitely do this again.
"Was one of your resolutions to not talk to me?" pants Stephen, after Jon lets him go. "Because you could break that one, if you wanted. Not that I'm giving you permission to break any of the others, you understand...."
"Wouldn't dream of it," says Jon. "By the way, I made a few resolutions for you, too. There's only like half a page of them, so you shouldn't have any trouble keeping up."
1. Stop sublimating my attraction to Jon into an obsessive fixation on every aspect of his life, and start expressing it the normal way instead.
Stephen successfully restrains himself from commenting on Jon's lackluster choice of wallpaper, his furniture that looks like it was shipped here straight from the eighties, and how he really needs to do some stretches or something because his flexibility is abysmal.
The normal way turns out to be wonderful, if sticky.
As Jon cleans him up a warm washcloth over his skin, though, Stephen can't resist one tiny comment. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you had a jacuzzi."
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#1 Huh. I was sure Stephen was a chubby chase. At least one who enjoys snuggling up against Jon's cute little tummy.
At least Jon can interpret this as Stephen being concerned about his health.
Olivia and Sam share a look that would have bothered him if he'd been paying more attention. "Jon," says Sam, "are you reading the conservative blogs again?"
Olivia would suggest snarky feminist blogs.
#22. Stephen asks for something and then pushes it away when he gets it.
In spite of himself, Jon spends ten minutes with a hand mirror and a series of increasingly twisted grimaces.
There is nothing wrong with Jon's teeth! Sure, he has some fillings, but what 50 year old doesn't!
212. Realize that, while "Roll 212!" was cool the first time, it got old fast and I should shut up about it already.
Yeah, okay, that's fair.
ROFL!
I love that Stephen realizes he should spend more time with his kids. Perhaps he just doesn't know how to hang out with them?
He downloads a couple of videos anyway.
Porn is not always similar to real life. But Jon can make the judgment call. It's worse with Stephen, he can't rely on porn to be his education tool.
1. Stop sublimating my attraction to Jon into an obsessive fixation on every aspect of his life, and start expressing it the normal way instead.
Awww, Jon cuts straight to the point. This is just how Stephen shows affection.
As Jon cleans him up a warm washcloth over his skin, though, Stephen can't resist one tiny comment. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you had a jacuzzi."
I'm sure Stephen has a jacuzzi back at his place.
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Sure, we know there's nothing wrong with Jon's teeth, but Stephen assumes there must be. Otherwise, why doesn't he smile for photos?
This is supposed to be post-divorce for Stephen, so he doesn't get time with his kids unless he makes a point of scheduling it. And he's kind of incompetent about doing that. Even if he did know what to do with them when he had them.
Jon just felt like having the excuse to watch some porn. He can educate Stephen on the finer points of realism later.
Stephen doesn't have a jacuzzi, unfortunately -- that's the whole reason he was counting on Jon to get one! If only Jon hadn't broken that particular resolution. Very inconsiderate of him, in Stephen's opinion.
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