Story Part 3.
Jan. 26th, 2003 11:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dewinged Yep. Been writing more. Feels good.
“You shouldn’t.”
“I shouldn’t have reasons?”
“No,” Brandon said, this time moving closer. Standing next to Jake, he rested his forearms on the ledge, looking out over the campus to see what Jake was seeing. “I meant you shouldn’t have to hide at all.”
“I…” Jake let out a misty sigh, his breath visible in the frosty air. “I just do. I don’t even think about it. It just happens.” He closed his eyes, shivering from thoughts including the cold. Clad in jeans and a T-shirt, he didn’t think when he bolted, and he didn’t have the resistances Brandon had. “Don’t push, don’t show your hand-”
“Don’t be yourself.”
“That’s not fair.”
“But it’s what you’re doing, Jacob,” he whispered. Jake knew that the man was serious, because Bran never used the name ‘Jacob’ unless he was set in his mind about something, and they were alone. It was Brandon’s idea, at first, since Jake introduced himself as Jacob. ‘Nah, call yourself Jake,’ Brandon replied. ‘Jacob sounds so…formal.’
“You’re a lot more fun when you are yourself.”
“Like now?”
“Is this you?”
“Most of it.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Jake turned, this time, to shoot a glare at the taller man. “How can you say that?”
“Because, every so often, you actually let yourself be,” Brandon replied. “You smile, you laugh. You don’t give yourself enough credit, since your guard’s always up.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Jacob-”
“Oh, so now you’re calling me that.”
“Don’t change the subject. Wrath wasn’t your fault.”
“Wrath was created from me, Brandon,” Jacob spat. “Sure, it was one of Mab’s demon seeds, but it fed from me. My…anger, my hate, all that Dark Side bullshit. All because I let my guard down.”
“It still wasn’t your fault. But…I think some things make more sense now.”
“Like what?”
“Like Scott,” Brandon said.
The silence in the air after that was cold enough to make the February air sublimate to steam at contact. Jake looked away, pushing, and Brandon felt the invisible field of force push against his skin.
“He didn’t understand, did he,” Brandon asked.
“He didn’t know,” Jake said. “Still doesn’t, as far as I know.” And neither did I, back then, he added in silent thought.
“He hurt you.”
“I was never cool enough.”
“It still matters that much to you?”
“He is not in my life anymore.”
“And I am.”
“Are you?”
“Of course. Jake, you didn’t think I would stop…”
A wry look was shot Brandon’s way by Jake, yet again. He was getting good at the wry looks. “Consider my past.”
“Considered,” Brandon answered. “Noted. But I’m not going to walk away. Neither will the team.”
“You’re so sure of that.”
“You underestimate them.”
“So?”
“But you underestimate yourself more.”
-Break-
“You shouldn’t.”
“I shouldn’t have reasons?”
“No,” Brandon said, this time moving closer. Standing next to Jake, he rested his forearms on the ledge, looking out over the campus to see what Jake was seeing. “I meant you shouldn’t have to hide at all.”
“I…” Jake let out a misty sigh, his breath visible in the frosty air. “I just do. I don’t even think about it. It just happens.” He closed his eyes, shivering from thoughts including the cold. Clad in jeans and a T-shirt, he didn’t think when he bolted, and he didn’t have the resistances Brandon had. “Don’t push, don’t show your hand-”
“Don’t be yourself.”
“That’s not fair.”
“But it’s what you’re doing, Jacob,” he whispered. Jake knew that the man was serious, because Bran never used the name ‘Jacob’ unless he was set in his mind about something, and they were alone. It was Brandon’s idea, at first, since Jake introduced himself as Jacob. ‘Nah, call yourself Jake,’ Brandon replied. ‘Jacob sounds so…formal.’
“You’re a lot more fun when you are yourself.”
“Like now?”
“Is this you?”
“Most of it.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Jake turned, this time, to shoot a glare at the taller man. “How can you say that?”
“Because, every so often, you actually let yourself be,” Brandon replied. “You smile, you laugh. You don’t give yourself enough credit, since your guard’s always up.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Jacob-”
“Oh, so now you’re calling me that.”
“Don’t change the subject. Wrath wasn’t your fault.”
“Wrath was created from me, Brandon,” Jacob spat. “Sure, it was one of Mab’s demon seeds, but it fed from me. My…anger, my hate, all that Dark Side bullshit. All because I let my guard down.”
“It still wasn’t your fault. But…I think some things make more sense now.”
“Like what?”
“Like Scott,” Brandon said.
The silence in the air after that was cold enough to make the February air sublimate to steam at contact. Jake looked away, pushing, and Brandon felt the invisible field of force push against his skin.
“He didn’t understand, did he,” Brandon asked.
“He didn’t know,” Jake said. “Still doesn’t, as far as I know.” And neither did I, back then, he added in silent thought.
“He hurt you.”
“I was never cool enough.”
“It still matters that much to you?”
“He is not in my life anymore.”
“And I am.”
“Are you?”
“Of course. Jake, you didn’t think I would stop…”
A wry look was shot Brandon’s way by Jake, yet again. He was getting good at the wry looks. “Consider my past.”
“Considered,” Brandon answered. “Noted. But I’m not going to walk away. Neither will the team.”
“You’re so sure of that.”
“You underestimate them.”
“So?”
“But you underestimate yourself more.”
-Break-