Erin Ptah (
ptahrrific) wrote2011-09-22 03:21 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fake News: Archnemesis + And It's F@#king Golden
Title: Archnemesis
Rating: PG
Contents: Innuendo
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen"
Disclaimer: #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement. 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.
Drabble (100 words) inspired by
kribban, wondering if Stephen still considers Jon his archnemesis even after they get together.
"You forgot to pick up my brand of salad dressing? Just what I'd expect...from my archnemesis!"
"We're not even having salad tonight, Stephen.”
"A likely story."
"It’s true! You said it would deaden my palate to the subtle flavors of your thrice-burned turducken."
"You won't slither out of this one so easily, archnemesis! Tonight, we do battle! Sacred honor demands it."
"Uh...does 'do battle' by any chance mean 'slippery naked wrestling until we end up having awkward-yet-vigorous sex on the kitchen floor'?"
"Maybe! It depends on whether you pulled the dastardly trick of forgetting the olive oil, too."
Title: And It's F@#king Golden
Rating: G
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen"
Disclaimer: Same as above.
Stephen reacts to Jon's recent exchange with an Emmy.
Stephen runs the whole two blocks. It would be faster to call, but he's avoided that whenever possible since he discovered Jon's trick of turning down the speaker volume. The Daily staff don't have to ask; they wave him in the right direction with gentle eyerolls and fond smiles.
"JON!"
Less than an hour out of his show polish, Jon's all scruff and pasty skin and water-blue eyes that flick self-consciously between Stephen and the two new Emmys. "Uh, yes?"
"Did you just—?" Stephen has too many feelings right now to bother with complete sentences. "About us? In front of everyone?"
"Should I not have?" stammers Jon. "I thought...part of the point of being out is that we get to make stupid jokes about it now."
He doesn't get it. He doesn't get it at all, and where can Stephen possibly start to explain? How can he make the enormity of it sink in? This thing he is, it was supposed to be a shameful secret—he's known that in his bones since even before he knew what to call it. This thing he has with Jon, that was to be avoided at all costs, or as a last resort hidden in the darkest corners and always, always denied. It was never supposed to be able to grow into a marriage like any other; it wasn't supposed to be able to serve its country like normal people did; it was a joke because it was different and unnatural, sure, but certainly not a joke because it was casual, and acceptable, and normal—
"Stephen...? Are you okay?"
"Something in my eye." Stephen has to fight his trembling lips to form the words. "Thass' all. Just something...water. A whole lot of water, in my eyes...."
Jon's not the huggiest person, but he has a way of standing close enough that it's only logical to cling to him, sobbing against the worn-soft grey slope of his shoulder. Stephen will explain himself later, or try to; but even if Jon doesn't understand, it's going to be okay. This thing Jon's given him will go right on being real, and he never, ever has to give it up.
Rating: PG
Contents: Innuendo
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen"
Disclaimer: #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement. 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.
Drabble (100 words) inspired by
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
"You forgot to pick up my brand of salad dressing? Just what I'd expect...from my archnemesis!"
"We're not even having salad tonight, Stephen.”
"A likely story."
"It’s true! You said it would deaden my palate to the subtle flavors of your thrice-burned turducken."
"You won't slither out of this one so easily, archnemesis! Tonight, we do battle! Sacred honor demands it."
"Uh...does 'do battle' by any chance mean 'slippery naked wrestling until we end up having awkward-yet-vigorous sex on the kitchen floor'?"
"Maybe! It depends on whether you pulled the dastardly trick of forgetting the olive oil, too."
Title: And It's F@#king Golden
Rating: G
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen"
Disclaimer: Same as above.
Stephen reacts to Jon's recent exchange with an Emmy.
Stephen runs the whole two blocks. It would be faster to call, but he's avoided that whenever possible since he discovered Jon's trick of turning down the speaker volume. The Daily staff don't have to ask; they wave him in the right direction with gentle eyerolls and fond smiles.
"JON!"
Less than an hour out of his show polish, Jon's all scruff and pasty skin and water-blue eyes that flick self-consciously between Stephen and the two new Emmys. "Uh, yes?"
"Did you just—?" Stephen has too many feelings right now to bother with complete sentences. "About us? In front of everyone?"
"Should I not have?" stammers Jon. "I thought...part of the point of being out is that we get to make stupid jokes about it now."
He doesn't get it. He doesn't get it at all, and where can Stephen possibly start to explain? How can he make the enormity of it sink in? This thing he is, it was supposed to be a shameful secret—he's known that in his bones since even before he knew what to call it. This thing he has with Jon, that was to be avoided at all costs, or as a last resort hidden in the darkest corners and always, always denied. It was never supposed to be able to grow into a marriage like any other; it wasn't supposed to be able to serve its country like normal people did; it was a joke because it was different and unnatural, sure, but certainly not a joke because it was casual, and acceptable, and normal—
"Stephen...? Are you okay?"
"Something in my eye." Stephen has to fight his trembling lips to form the words. "Thass' all. Just something...water. A whole lot of water, in my eyes...."
Jon's not the huggiest person, but he has a way of standing close enough that it's only logical to cling to him, sobbing against the worn-soft grey slope of his shoulder. Stephen will explain himself later, or try to; but even if Jon doesn't understand, it's going to be okay. This thing Jon's given him will go right on being real, and he never, ever has to give it up.