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Tru Luv Fanfiction |
Stomping Grounds
by: Rolymurp
Previously: I wrote six parts of a fic, got writer’s block and left it all hanging forever. Story timeline-wise, it’s been two years since Jack almost attacked Jen before skipping town.
Joey sighed as she set the sheet of paper back on her lap. Biting her lower lip, she glanced over at the instrument panel, partially blocked as it was by Pacey’s arm.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Are you keeping track of the mileage? We’re never gonna find it,” she lamented, picking up the paper to study it again.
“We’re fine,” he assured her, sounding tired. “I’m sure I’ll know the place when I see it.”
“Really? Then I’m tossing these,” she pronounced airily as she threw the directions and a map onto the back seat. Grinning, she leaned toward him and placed her hand on his thigh. “I’m really looking forward to this,” she started. “I’ve got some time off before I start my job, we’ll get to see Andie and Gianni...”
He shrugged. “It should be fun.”
Miffed, she squeezed the flesh of his leg. “Nice enthusiasm there, Pacey. Our first real vacation in over a year and-”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, cutting her off. Reaching down, he took hold of her hand and squeezed it before continuing, his rising tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m ever so ecstatic about our four days of bliss! Especially since I get to spend most of it with that mountain of paperwork I had to bring along.”
She wrenched her hand free of his tight grip. “Why are you being like this?”
Her question was met with stony silence, the car stereo providing the only noise as they traveled the next two miles. As the familiar gray Victorian appeared in the distance, Pacey slowed and pulled into its long, gravel driveway without fanfare.
“We’re here,” Joey observed cheerfully. Sighing at his lack of reaction, she reached for Pacey’s shoulder, rubbing it softly. “Come on. Doesn’t just looking at that house make you feel...” she trailed off, smiling sweetly at him.
“Make me feel what?” He asked, curious.
“Don’t you remember what happened in that house?”
He thought for a moment as he pulled the car to a stop and tugged on the emergency break. His eyebrows shot up suddenly. “We had sex, right?”
Immediately irate, she curled her hand into a fist and punched his shoulder. “We got back together in that house!”
He nodded in recognition, his eyes communicating his contrition.
“This is the place where we really started our life together,” she elucidated. “I mean, once we got home from our trip here, there was no looking back…you know?”
He stared at her for a long moment, impassively taking in the eager expression on her face. “Sure,” he answered, his noncommittal tone turning her hopefulness back into frustrated anger.
Frowning, she reached for the door handle. “Give up, Joey,” she whispered, climbing slowly out of the car.
Jack shut the cupboard as he heard the familiar crunch of tires on the driveway. Smiling, he walked to the window and shouted over his shoulder.
“Andie! I think she’s here.”
He began to turn away but halted when the car, a black Honda coupe, came into view. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he turned and walked toward the hall, meeting up with his sister in the doorway.
“Jen’s here already?” She asked, oblivious to his expression. “I thought she said she was catching a later ferry.”
He shrugged. “I guess she changed her mind. And it looks like she got a new car.”
Andie’s eyes widened at the comment, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at her brother. “Oh no she didn’t,” she said merrily.
“She didn’t,” he repeated, growing more puzzled.
“Nope. It looks like some of this weekend’s mystery guests have arrived,” she explained, nearly bouncing with excitement as she walked to the front door.
“There are mystery guests?” Jack inquired as he followed her into the foyer.
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I invited Joey and Pacey up for the weekend, too!”
“Joey and Pacey,” he breathed, his pulse quickening immediately.
“And Dawson. Isn’t that great?” She asked. “We haven’t all been together since your first break from college. I found out from Jen that Dawson was going to be in town for a few weeks, so I asked the whole gang to come.” She pulled the door open and waved frantically to her guests.
Slowly, Jack peered over her shoulder, paling as he caught site of Joey striding to the steps. He staggered back several feet and retreated into the kitchen, knowing that he needed to pull himself together before facing Pacey.
Andie’s voice sailed inside from the porch, her high-pitched greeting piercing to Jack’s suddenly hypersensitive ears.
“Joey! It’s so great to see you!”
Despite his anxiety, Jack couldn’t fight the faint smile that spread across his features as he pictured Joey stifling the urge to roll her eyes in the face of Andie’s boundless enthusiasm.
“It’s great to see you,” he heard her respond, her tone almost mimicking Andie’s. “Pacey and I haven’t stopped talking about this trip for weeks; we couldn’t wait to get here!”
Jack’s smile vanished, his eyes collapsing to a squint as he listened to them exchange pleasantries. Joey’s tone never faltered, refuting his assumption that she’d been mocking Andie. With vague annoyance, he wondered when she had started to talk like that.
Heavy footsteps assaulted the wooden staircase outside and he steeled himself for the solid baritone he hadn’t heard in over two years.
“Hey, McPhee.”
The sound invaded his ears, curling into his brain and sending a chill down his spine. He peeked around the doorway again, drawing back quickly as he caught sight of Pacey hugging Andie.
Half-hearted complaints of faulty map reading and traffic jams drifted into the kitchen where Jack waited for the moment when he wouldn’t be able to hide anymore.
“I can’t believe you’re still driving that old Saab,” Pacey joked. Jack quietly approached the door as he waited for Andie’s response.
She chuckled. “I’m not. The car belongs to Jack now.”
“Jack’s here?” Joey asked, clearly surprised.
“And Dawson and Jen will be here in a few hours, too. I thought I’d surprise everyone.”
“Pacey,” Joey exclaimed breathily. “Isn’t that great?”
His tone was chipper but reserved. “Yeah. I...I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” Jack muttered as he stepped through the door, his eyes never focusing on anyone’s face.
Joey was in his arms immediately, her greeting lost on his skin as she kissed his cheek. She stepped back, holding his hands in hers.
“Where have you been, Jack? It’s been two years; we were so worried about you.”
His nervousness abated under her attentions, her seemingly genuine concern more touching than he’d expected. He shrugged, no adequate answer springing to mind.
She smiled sweetly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just good to see you.” She released his hands and stepped back to her place at Pacey’s side, looking up at him expectantly.
Pacey put his hand out stiffly and grinned. “Been a while.”
Jack nodded shyly and reached out to shake, drawing back abruptly when Joey, an exasperated frown on her face, shoved Pacey toward him.
“What is wrong with you two,” she groused. “You’re old friends; you’re allowed to hug.” Rolling her eyes, she linked elbows with Andie and walked inside.
Jack stared unseeing into the distance behind Pacey as he was pulled into his embrace, willing himself to ignore the strength of Pacey’s arms as they held him flush to his chest. Mechanically, he slung an arm over Pacey’s shoulder, curling his hand into a fist on his back. He moved away quickly, suppressing a shudder as Pacey’s hand brushed a strip of exposed flesh on his back where his shirt had ridden up.
Pacey regarded him with obvious interest, one corner of his mouth creating a half smile that Jack couldn’t decipher. He darted around Pacey without giving him a chance to speak, picking up one of the bags and bringing it inside. Shaking his head, Pacey grabbed the other one and followed him into the house.
“That was great, Andie,” Jen said with an exaggerated sigh as she balled up her napkin and tossed it onto her empty plate.
“Seconded,” Dawson said, pushing his chair back from the table. “What’s for dessert?”
Jack stood abruptly and motioned for his already-rising sister to sit back down. “I’ll get it.” He turned and moved toward the kitchen, smiling at Joey as she joined him.
“What time are we expecting Gianni?” Pacey asked.
“His flight gets in at around two tomorrow, so I’ll leave late in the morning. We’ll be back before dinner,” Andie explained.
“I could come with you, if you want,” Jen offered.
Shaking her head, Andie spoke. “No. You guys stay here and hang out. Go to the beach or go in the hot tub…whatever floats your boat. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, Jen. You don’t want to get in the way of the romantic reunion,” Dawson said, raising his eyebrows at her. Jen rolled her eyes slightly as she nodded.
“So tell us about L.A., Dawson,” Andie began. “Are you seeing anyone out there?”
He grinned widely. “Do you know Mia Logan? She’s the actress who plays Amber on the show,” he explained.
“Dating one of the costars…how swanky,” Andie commented.
He blushed slightly with embarrassment and nodded. “It’s going pretty well.”
“And what about the show,” she prompted. “Come on, I want to hear all the gossip. What happens behind the scenes of ‘Heartbreak High’?”
He coughed, looking down at the table. “There’s really not much to tell. The show is still fairly low budget, which cuts down on the ‘diva’ factor. Honestly, I’m really more into my writing than anything else. We’re trying to break out of that ‘sappy teen melodrama’ label that the critics smacked us with when we premiered,” he explained earnestly.
“It sounds great,” Andie remarked pleasantly.
He shrugged, thinking. “Yeah, and I did get to direct an episode last season, which was a great experience.”
Pacey chuckled. “I’d imagine it was,” he remarked, the strange, slightly angry tone of his voice drawing everyone’s attention.
“The episode you directed,” he continued, “was your little ‘ripped from the Capeside headlines’ opus, was it not?”
Dawson’s grin faded. “What headlines do you mean, Pace?”
“The ever-fertile territory of illicit student-teacher affairs, of course,” he answered, crossing his arms and straightening up in his seat. “Joey insisted that we watch that one, since you’d both written and directed it. After seeing it, I’m willing to bet that you were the one who pitched the storyline to begin with as well. I bet it was your baby right from the start.”
Dawson stared at his old friend with barely masked contempt. “It is part of my job.”
“Really,” Pacey scoffed. “It’s part of your job to steal events from your friends’ lives and rewrite them to suit your needs?”
“What’s all this about?” Jen interjected, confused.
“Pacey is referring to a few episodes we did about a student who was aggressively pursuing his guidance counselor. She tried to let him down easy, but he had a hard time taking no for an answer. Eventually, one of his advances was misinterpreted by the administration and almost got her fired,” Dawson finished, looking pointedly at Pacey.
“But the kicker, of course, is that she didn’t get fired, right, Dawson?” Pacey said, his anger obvious but controlled. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What happened instead is that the bad guy’s best friend bravely went to the school board and told them the truth; that his friend had harassed that poor woman and allowed the administration to believe that he’d been the victim in order to punish her for turning him down.”
Dawson nodded as Pacey completed the description. “I see where you could draw some parallels, but it’s not as if you own the rights to the entire concept, Pace. I simply put a different twist on something that happened when we were in high school.”
“Yes,” Pacey agreed, bitterly. “A twist in which the ‘golden boy’ friend ended up being the hero. I wonder what prompted you to take it in that direction.”
“Creative license,” Dawson suggested, shrugging as he looked around the table.
“People sue over stuff like that sometimes…don’t they, D?” Pacey asked.
Dawson narrowed his eyes and gave Pacey a tight-lipped smile. “Sometimes. And from what I understand, people sometimes go to jail for what you did.”
“So, Pacey,” Andie said loudly, trying to break the tension. “When’s the big day?”
Coffee urn in hand, Jack paused in the doorway, staring at Pacey with a mixture of sorrow and scorn.
“The big day?” Pacey asked, racking his brain for understanding. “Oh, you mean the wedding.” He shrugged, shooting a furtive glance at Jack, surprised to find that he was looking back at him. “I have no idea.”
“We haven’t set a date yet,” Joey quickly explained, sliding past Jack into the dining room, a stack of small plates in her hands. She set them down on the table, adding, “I wanted to get settled in my new job before we started making any plans.”
Andie and Jen nodded understandingly at her as she slipped back toward the kitchen, a sad smile adorning her face.
Jen shivered as the soft breeze off the ocean slipped underneath her sweater. She pulled the garment more tightly around her shoulders as the chilly water rushed up to meet her feet, a few drops sprinkling her bare calves. Glancing to her right, she caught sight of Jack standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze fixed on an indistinguishable point in the distance.
She crept up behind him and raised herself up on her tiptoes, lightly resting her chin on his shoulder.
“You okay?” She asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“More or less,” he muttered, not looking at her. “I suppose I’m dealing as well as I can. I just wish I’d had some advanced notice.”
“You’re not the only one,” she said. “It never occurred to me that Andie would do something like this.”
He murmured in response, leaning his head against hers. “I’ll be fine…just as long as he stays the hell away from me.”
She lifted her head and moved forward to face him. “You’re worried that you won’t be able to keep your rage under control?”
“My rage?” He asked, chuckling. “Uh, no. I think that’s pretty well harnessed at this point.” He sighed as he kicked at an incoming wave. “It’s not fighting with him that I’m worried about.”
Jen’s shoulders slumped as she closed her eyes painfully. “Please don’t tell me...”
“I’m sorry.” He crouched down to retrieve a broken seashell from the surf, running his fingers over its ridges as he spoke again. “I know it’s incredibly disappointing to you, but I can’t help it. I still feel something for him.” He shook his head. “Joey made us hug when they got here and it was agonizing.”
“For both of you?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, shrugging. “I can’t read him anymore...it’s making me nervous.” He tossed the shell back into the water and walked further down the shore, Jen trailing slowly behind him.
Abruptly he stopped and turned to face her. “So what do I do if he comes on to me?”
Jen widened her eyes in shock. “You’re asking me?” She sighed, gathering her thoughts. “You’ll do the smart thing, Jack. You’ve gotten distance. You’re stronger now.”
“I thought I was, too, but seeing him here-”
“You’ll be ready for it this time,” she insisted, stepping closer to hold his gaze. “It’s not the out of the blue occurrence that it was the last time we were here.” Her voice was full of anxiety, belying the persuasive words she was using. She seemed to be trying to convince herself as much as him.
“You’re right,” he agreed quietly. “I’m ready for it.” He flashed a false grin and tipped his head toward the house as he started to walk back. Halfway there, a disturbing thought gripped him and he halted, staring at the ground.
Jen reached over and touched his arm. “What is it?”
His eyes met hers slowly. “What if he doesn’t?”
Confused, Jen furrowed her brow. “Doesn’t what?”
Jack blushed in the dark. “What if he doesn’t come on to me?” He asked fearfully, the ensuing shame for even thinking it propelling him to start for the house again.
Jen stood stunned in his wake for a moment before rushing to his side. “Jack,” she breathed, her tensed features telegraphing her distress.
“It’s funny,” he remarked dryly. “I don’t know which possibility I’m more afraid of.”
Pacey absently kicked off the floorboards to speed up the rocking of the porch swing he was sitting on, his gaze firmly fixed on the two figures in the distance. The dim twilight made it difficult to discern who they were, but Pacey knew it was Jen and Jack because he’d seen them walk out the back door shortly after dessert. Not long after, he’d decided to get some air.
He ruminated over the obvious changes in Jack since the last time he’d seen him. Physically, he looked healthier, stronger than when he’d been smoking and drinking so much in New York. But there was something else, something in his eyes. A strength that hadn’t been there before. A strength that made it impossible for Pacey to tell what Jack was thinking about him. They’d had their strained hello on the porch and that brief shared look after dinner, when he’d been talking about the wedding, but that was it. Pacey hadn’t been able to get him alone at all. Every time he’d ventured near Jack, Jen had run interference, keeping them apart. But was she doing that because Jack asked her to? Pacey didn’t know.
Maybe it was just as well that they hadn’t spoken, Pacey mused. He had no idea what he would say to Jack in the event that they did find a moment together. Somehow he figured that apologizing for running him off and then asking if they could go somewhere and fuck wouldn’t go over too well. But it was the most direct way he could think of to describe his feelings about the situation. He’d been properly remorseful after Jack’s disappearance, knowing full well that he’d been the cause. He’d missed him, more than he ever anticipated. Then time had passed and he and Joey moved to Boston and he had gradually learned to stop thinking about him so much.
But now he was here again. Back in the house where everything had began. And one simple thought continued to reverberate in his mind, blocking out all others: He still wanted Jack. Badly.
“What’cha doin’?” Joey asked as she approached him from the door, her apprehensiveness evident in the expression on her face.
Pacey shrugged. “Just watching Jen and Jack,” he answered, gesturing to them.
Joey looked to where he was pointing. “It’s weird to see him again, after the way he vanished,” she remarked.
He said nothing, sliding over to let her sit next to him.
“I wanted to ask him all these questions,” she continued. “But since nobody else was making a big deal, I didn’t want to either.”
Pacey nodded as he continued to stare at Jack, remorse flashing in his eyes. “He just had some stuff to sort out.”
Oblivious to the wistful tone of his voice, Joey turned toward Pacey, intrigued. “Did he tell you that? Did you two talk?”
He shook his head. “No, I…well, he doesn’t seem very chatty.”
She murmured in agreement before reaching down to take his hand. “I’m sorry we argued earlier. I don’t want to fight with you.”
He sighed guiltily and put his arm around her, pulling her against him. “I don’t want to fight with you either. I’m just stressed out.”
She snuggled closer to him, her arm slipping around his waist. “I hear hot tubs are good for that.”
“Is that so?” He asked, a small smile playing across his lips.
Nodding, Joey raised her eyebrows. “Andie’s making margaritas.”
He kissed her softly on the forehead. “Sounds great.”
Jack shut off the TV and listened intently as he walked into the front hall, his body relaxing as he noted the silence. A faint smile of relief spread across his features as he flipped off the light and started up the steps in the darkness, grateful that everyone else had opted to turn in early, leaving him alone.
A table lamp in the upstairs hall snapped on as he reached the landing and Jack blinked in the sudden brightness, turning to look at the person standing by the table.
“Late night,” Pacey murmured, moving sideways to lean on the banister, his body almost blocking the hallway.
Jack swallowed as he glanced toward his bedroom door, just a few feet past his old friend. “I thought everyone was asleep,” he whispered in response, his eyes automatically scanning Pacey’s low slung boxer shorts and gray wife-beater tank on their way to his face.
“They are. I woke up; I was feeling a little thirsty,” he explained, letting his gaze slowly rake over Jack.
Jack coughed to fight the smirk that threatened, though he couldn’t stop himself from making a joke. “Still haven’t figured out how to keep that from happening?”
Surprised and slightly encouraged by the lack of animosity, Pacey smiled. “Apparently not.”
Reflexively, Jack returned the smile, suddenly catching himself and taking a step back. “Well,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll-”
“You look good,” Pacey drawled, raising his eyebrows. “Are you?”
Jack stared blankly at him for a moment before answering. “I suppose,” he said flatly, shrugging. “I’m still here.”
“No thanks to me?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Don’t give yourself too much credit,” he sighed, stepping forward as he spoke, heading for his room.
Pacey reached out and pressed a firm hand to Jack’s chest, stopping him. Jack closed his eyes, steeling himself for what was coming.
“What’s the rush? Is it so difficult to talk to me?”
“I’m tired,” Jack replied, exasperated. “Too tired to play games.”
“I asked how you were doing; that’s not really a game,” Pacey protested. Jack said nothing. “But if you don’t-”
“Pacey,” Jack cut him off in a shouted whisper, his placid expression hardening into one of anger. “I’m going to bed.”
Pacey chuckled at the flash of irritation, his grin widening until it seemed to overtake his face. “You sure? I was thinking that maybe we could catch up,” he suggested, his hand slipping down over Jack’s pec, one finger tracing the outline of the nipple through his shirt.
Jack covered Pacey’s hand with his own and stilled its movement, breathing deeply as he stared into his face. He slid the hand lower, closing his eyes briefly as it brushed the rippling muscles of his abdomen.
Incited by this, Pacey wet his lips and stepped forward, his fingertips gliding lightly along the railing. He stopped suddenly when he felt Jack move his hand again; he realized he was no longer touching him.
Jack released him gently and stepped to the side, out of his path. “Goodnight, Pacey,” he mumbled, his voice a shaky whisper. Hastily, he retreated to his darkened room and shut the door.
Joey smiled and set her book down on the blanket as Pacey approached from the distance, his tanned chest beaded with droplets of water. He grabbed a towel and hastily dried himself before sinking down next to her and reaching into the cooler.
“How’s the water?”
“Nice. Cold,” he answered, opening a soda and draining half of it in one gulp. He twisted the can into the sand until it was level and flopped down on his back, closing his eyes and sighing at the warmth of the sun’s rays.
Joey arched an eyebrow and lay down next to him on her side, letting her fingers trail over the still-damp skin of his stomach as she put her lips to his ear.
“You know,” she whispered teasingly, her tongue slipping out to flick against his earlobe. “You owe me a little attention after the way you ran out of the room last night.”
“Ran out?” He mumbled.
“I’m sure you remember: I offered to show you my new underwear and you told me to ‘hold that thought’ while you ran to get a drink. You must have been pretty thirsty, seeing as you were gone so long that I fell asleep,” she explained, her fingertips dipping under the waistband of his swimming trunks.
Pacey’s eyes snapped open. “Jo, we’re outside,” he squeaked, his body tensing.
She giggled breathily. “There’s nobody here, Pace.”
“But Jen-”
“She went for a walk,” she cooed, her lips sliding lower to devour his neck. “Mmmm…you taste like salt.”
He chuckled stiffly, still uncomfortable. “Isn’t Dawson coming out?”
“Dawson,” she repeated, moving up to look him in the eye. “Had a call to make. Something to do with the show.” She shifted onto her stomach, pressing her breasts firmly against his chest. “He’ll probably be hours,” she finished, sucking his lower lip between hers.
Pacey relented finally, his body relaxing as he kissed her back, granting her probing tongue entrance to his mouth. She threw her leg over his waist and pulled herself on top of him, her hands finding his and bringing them to the back of her neck, inviting him to untie her bikini top.
He hesitated for a moment before deciding against it, his fingers moving up to thread through her hair instead. She broke off the kiss, giggling again at his sudden timidity.
“Still worried?” She asked, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw to his other ear. “Andie’s at the airport, and she and Gianni won’t be home until dinner.” Her mouth moved down to his chest, sampling the drops of water that he’d missed with the towel. She let her hand wander down between them, her fingers curling around his burgeoning erection. “And Jack is working on something in the house…said it would take all afternoon.”
“What,” he gasped, and then paused, an involuntary grunt escaping his lips. “What kind of work?”
She released him, grinding down against his crotch as she kissed him again. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “He had a drill.”
Pacey turned away, stopping the kiss. He grasped Joey’s hips, stilling her movement. “Fuck,” he whispered, irritated.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, concerned.
“I have all that paperwork,” he grumbled.
She squinted at him, her confusion rapidly changing to annoyance.
He shrugged, catching her look. “I really should get it out of the way.” He pulled her down again, kissing her briefly on the lips. “Think of it this way: The sooner I get it done, the sooner I can give you that attention I owe you.”
She rolled off him quickly, her anger radiating in waves. “Fine.”
He stood, grabbing his soda. “Don’t be mad, Jo.”
“I just don’t…” she stopped, looking down at the sand. “Never mind. Just go.”
He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Later. I promise.”
She shook her head dejectedly at his departing form, trying to fight off the tears that seemed to always be threatening. Realizing that she was failing, she reached for her book, holding it up to hide her face though no one was there to see her. The words blurred together and she threw it back down, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. She wiped carefully underneath her eyes and sniffled, jerking when a shadow fell across the blanket.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Dawson said, smiling sadly down at her.
“How’s it coming?”
Startled, Jack jumped where he stood, taking a moment to breathe as he acknowledged that the voice belonged to Pacey. Willing himself not to turn around, he spoke. “Fine,” he answered, nodding. “Actually, I’m pretty busy, so now really isn’t the best time.”
Pacey ignored him, moving further into the room and leaning over his shoulder. “The best time for what?”
Sighing heavily, Jack placed the drill on the window ledge and turned, irritation burned into his features. He let out a short breath as he caught site of his former lover, still wet from the shower and clad only in a towel. His gaze played over him, inadvertently dipping below his waist. He snapped his head back up quickly, hoping against hope that Pacey hadn’t noticed.
Pacey’s grin widened as Jack’s eyes finally met his, fully aware of the affect he was having. “Am I bothering you, Jack?” He asked, his voice taunting.
“What are you…” Jack trailed off and sighed again, fixing his gaze on the opposite wall, just past Pacey’s head. “Why are you doing this?”
Pacey chuckled and stepped forward, closing the small space between them. He dropped his voice to a throaty whisper. “Do you really need me to answer that?”
“Get out, Pacey,” Jack snapped, still refusing to look at him.
“Or you’ll throw me out?” He teased. “I don’t know that you could; you’d have to actually touch me,” he explained, leaning forward so that his bare chest pressed against Jack’s folded arms. “Think you could handle that?”
With frustration-fueled speed, Jack suddenly gripped Pacey’s upper arms, his tensed fingers digging painfully into his biceps. “Leave. Me. Alone,” he uttered slowly through gritted teeth.
Pacey continued to smile at him, unruffled by the display. “Look me in the eye and say that.”
Jack pulled him closer, suppressing a shiver as Pacey’s erection pressed against his hip through the towel. He turned his head slightly, his nose roughly brushing Pacey’s as he locked onto his gaze. He stared at him for a long moment, noting that Pacey’s cocky confidence was fading as his breathing sped up and a hunger gripped his eyes.
“Leave me alone,” he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly as he pressed his lips to Pacey’s, their mouths fitting together easily, long separated pieces of a puzzle. He relinquished his hold as the kiss deepened, his hand going to the back of Pacey’s neck as his tongue slipped readily into his welcoming mouth.
Dawson sank down onto the blanket facing Joey, his probing gaze firmly fixed on her. She smiled back weakly before turning away to pick up her discarded book.
“Is something wrong, Joey?”
She shrugged and shook her head, not looking at him.
“You sure?” He pressed, leaning forward and tipping the book down with his index finger. “You don’t maybe want to talk?”
She gestured with her book. “Kinda busy, Dawson.”
He frowned and pulled the paperback novel from her hand, placing it behind him, out of her reach. “Too busy to have a conversation with your oldest friend?”
“Dawson, please,” she whined, exasperated. “I’m really not in the mood.”
“Too bad,” he argued, standing up. “Because I am. And if you’re not up to sharing your problems, then you’re just going to have to listen to mine.” He reached down for her, smiling victoriously when she reluctantly took his hands and let him pull her to her feet.
They walked down to the water’s edge in silence, pausing to glance up and down the shore. Joey tipped her head to the left to indicate that they should walk that way; deliberately choosing the direction opposite from the way Jen walked gone earlier.
“So tell me how horrible it is to be a wealthy writer/director who’s dating a starlet,” Joey teased. “From what you said at dinner last night, it sounds hellish.”
“Not as hellish as having your old friends freak out on you for using them as inspiration,” he griped.
Joey stopped in her tracks. “I don’t want to talk about you and Pacey.”
“How about you and Pacey,” he suggested, dipping his head down so that their eyes were level.
“Dawson,” she warned.
“Fine. We both know I prefer talking about myself anyway,” he joked, tugging her back into step with him. “I’ll tell you what’s horrible. My show is over budget, my scripts are overdramatic, and my perfect starlet girlfriend is-”
“Over you?” She guessed.
“Close.” He kicked at the sand. “The truth is that she’s not much of a girlfriend. Relationships are all about strategy out there, and she needs to keep fucking upward. She’ll drop me the second one of the producers decides he’s interested.”
“Is that going to happen?” Joey asked, her face sympathetic.
“Eventually. It always does.”
They stopped walking as they came to an apparently abandoned rowboat half buried in the sand. Dawson climbed inside and tested the seats, putting a hand out for her when he determined they would hold them. He smiled as she sat across from him, amused by her apparent pity.
“Don’t worry about me, Joey. It’s not like I’m in love with her.”
“I know,” she said, wiping sand off her ankles. “It’s just disheartening to hear you, of all people, speak so pessimistically about your relationship.”
“Dreamer no more,” he pronounced.
She sighed sadly. “We all had to grow up eventually, I guess. I think I just wanted to imagine that you wouldn’t; that you’d continue to live a charmed life.”
“Well, what about you?” He asked. “You and Pacey seem like you’ve been on a pretty smooth course since you sailed away that summer.”
Joey rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t call it smooth. There were bumps.” She tucked her hair back behind her ears. “There are bumps.”
He watched her quietly, worried that speaking would prompt her to stop.
“Let’s just say that things aren’t as blissful as they might look,” she explained, finally meeting his gaze. “But I really don’t want to bother you with this. It’s not your problem.”
His brow furrowed with incredulity as he reached for her hand. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
She looked down, relenting. “I don’t know what happened to us. Pacey’s never around. He’s always at work. And on the rare occasion that we’re both home at the same time...we don’t connect.” She raised her eyes to his. “On any level.”
“Oh,” he said, squeezing her hand softly, affectionately. “Don’t hate me for asking, but do you think he’s cheating on you?”
A bitter laugh emanated from her throat. “No. That was actually my immediate assumption, and I went to some pretty lame measures only to discover that it wasn’t the case. He actually is working a lot.”
“Maybe he’s trying to make some extra money for the wedding?” Dawson offered, looking doubtful.
“That doesn’t explain everything else.” She shook her head. “I think the real answer is pretty simple: My boyfriend isn’t interested in me anymore.” She gestured dramatically with her hands. “The man I’m supposed to marry and spend the rest of my life with...doesn’t want me.” Tears crept into her voice as she finished. “Isn’t that great? Isn’t that just how things are meant to happen in Joey Potter’s world?”
He stroked her hair gently as she buried her face in her hands, shaking with sobs. “Joey,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Shh.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, pulling back and trying to compose herself.
“Don’t apologize,” he countered, reaching out to cup her chin in his hand. “You’re unhappy, Joey. You needed to get that out.” His thumb stretched up to wipe away a tear under her eye. “I wouldn’t presume to guess what Pacey’s thinking, but I refuse to believe that he doesn’t want you.”
She leaned into his hand and shut her eyes, grimacing.
He bent forward, touching his forehead to hers. “I can’t imagine any guy not being utterly thrilled to have you in his life, Jo. I’ve met a lot of women since I left Capeside; I’ve had a lot of girlfriends.” His left hand slid up her arm and framed the other side of her face. “Not one of them, not one, could hold a candle to you.” He touched a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “And if you’re right; if Pacey is really stupid enough not to love and cherish you, then he simply doesn’t deserve you,” he finished, looking meaningfully into her eyes.
“Dawson,” she whispered, moving forward to brush her lips against his.
He kissed her back tentatively, waiting for her to remember herself and push him away.
She reached for him instead, her fingernails scratching his scalp as she held his head to hers and deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding along his lower lip before slipping inside his mouth to taste him.
“Jo,” he gasped, drawing back from her suddenly. “We-”
“Please,” she murmured, pulling him into another kiss, this one hungrier, more desperate than the last.
He obliged her, his hands going to her waist to lift her up. He settled her on his lap, his mouth traveling down to her neck to cover it with damp heat before venturing lower still.
Pacey sighed with relief against Jack’s lips as his arm wrapped tightly around his waist. His free hand smoothed up and over Jack’s shirt, immediately working at its buttons as their tongues mingled together in the space between their mouths. Impatiently, he tugged at the thin cotton of Jack’s shirt before unceremoniously yanking it off of him. His hands quickly converged on the exposed flesh, languidly traveling over the compact muscles of his chest. As Jack painted his neck with moist, sucking kisses, Pacey’s fingers danced along his abdomen, eliciting a shudder from him.
“Still ticklish,” he remarked, his teasing voice raspy with desire.
Jack resisted the smile that threatened to appear at the comment, finding Pacey’s lips again and kissing him roughly, his hands sliding down his back to dip beneath the towel.
Pacey moved his head down, nibbling at Jack’s collarbone as he unfastened his shorts. “I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you yesterday,” he murmured against his skin, curling his fingers under the waistband of Jack’s boxer briefs. He lifted his head to look into Jack’s eyes as he pulled his lower lip between his teeth and then released it. “You have, too.”
Jack head dipped briefly, a nearly imperceptible acknowledgment of Pacey’s accusation.
Smiling at the admission, Pacey moved to stand behind him, his chest pressed to Jack’s back. “How did you picture it?” He whispered, his lips brushing Jack’s ear. He slid his hands over Jack’s waist, returning to the task he’d begun at his groin. Reaching into the slit in the cotton, he freed Jack’s engorged shaft, flipping his thumb over the tip to spread around the bead of moisture that had gathered there. “Did I stroke your cock like this while I slid inside you?” He thrust against his ass through the thick fabrics that separated them as he asked the question, his voice low and gravelly.
Jack grunted, the force of the sensation jerking him forward. Pacey pulled him back gently and slowed his motions.
“Did I let you fuck me?” He questioned, slowly licking Jack’s earlobe. “Did I suck you off first, moaning at how thick and hard you were?”
Jack spun around and kissed him ferociously, his tongue plundering every inch of Pacey’s mouth as his hands wandered aimlessly over his toned flesh.
Pacey stilled Jack’s movements after a moment and stepped back, amusedly taking in the naked arousal on his face. Grinning with satisfaction, he sank to his knees, sliding Jack’s shorts down to mid-thigh and enveloping his cock in one simple motion.
He tugged gently at the base of Jack’s balls as his tongue lavished attention on the rigid shaft, occasionally pulling just the tip inside his lips to suck it lightly. His other hand held firmly to Jack’s ass, slowly inching over the smooth flesh until it reached the crease and slid easily inside, his fingers pressing softly on the tensed aperture as they passed it. He let his index finger linger there, applying steady pressure until it finally penetrated the muscle, eliciting a loud, tremulous groan from deep within Jack’s throat.
The song stopped suddenly as Jen walked back, throwing her off in her attempt to sing along. She frowned as she lifted the discman to eye it suspiciously, sighing when she noted the flashing “Low Battery” symbol in the corner of the display. She shut it off and removed the headphones from her ears, making her way back to the blanket where her friends were gathered.
She squinted in the sunlight as she neared the spot about 40 feet from the house where they’d laid everything out that morning, noticing that the blanket was devoid of people; the two chairs empty but in place, the cooler and stack of towels unmoved. She glanced toward the ocean and, still not seeing anyone, concluded that they’d all headed back inside for lunch.
Her steps were light as she approached the house, her mood surprisingly unsullied by the tension that permeated their group; the tension that only she and Jack were aware of. Pacey didn’t seem to be bothered by it in the least, she thought to herself; probably because he was the source of it. But, so far, her faith in Jack’s ability to rise above it all was keeping her mind at ease.
Grains of sand fell from her calves and ankles with every step on the porch, the soft pattering sound commanding her attention as she reached the back door. Not wanting to make a mess inside, she set her things on the swing and headed back down to the lawn, walking around to the outdoor shower on the side of the house to rinse off.
She hummed to herself under her breath as she reached for the door; looking inside only after she’d pulled it open fully.
Joey was pressed against the far wall, her head thrown back against the wood, her eyes closed as she moaned with pleasure. Her legs were wrapped tightly around Dawson’s waist as he thrust inside her, his face buried in her chest.
“Aaah!” Jen shrieked as she noticed them, her gaze immediately dropping to the floor. Drawing back violently, she slammed the door and turned to run, cringing when she heard Dawson shout her name. Reluctantly, she halted, waiting for him to step outside.
“I know what this looks like,” he started, his face contorted in terror.
Jen swallowed. “It looks like you and Joey are fucking.”
Joey grimaced and covered her face in response, her whole body seeming to slump down.
Dawson wrung his hands as he spoke. “I know, but you don’t understand-”
She quickly held up a hand. “It’s fine. I don’t want to understand.” She backed up a step. “I just want to go.”
“Please, Jen,” Joey pleaded softly, her tiny voice echoing off the flimsy stall walls.
“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” Jen promised, her hand still in the air, as if it was a pledge.
“Dawson, can you leave us alone?” Joey asked, not looking at him.
An expression of unconcealed relief broke over him at the request and he nodded, not bothering with a backward glance as he fled the spot.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Joey began, tucking her hair self-consciously behind her ears as she stepped away from the wall.
Jen smirked slightly and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve seen worse.” She moved back, inviting Joey to step outside.
They walked back toward the beach, stopping and staring out at the surf as they hit the sand.
Joey glanced shyly at Jen. “You must think I’m such a bitch.”
“Honestly,” Jen said, tilting her head sideways. “I don’t. At all.” She shrugged, her expression calm. “I’ve never been in your position, but I can imagine what it feels like.”
“With Pacey?” Joey asked, confused.
“Just in general.” She placed a comforting hand on Joey’s shoulder. “You’re getting married soon and you’re scared. You slipped. It’s totally understandable.”
“No, it’s not,” Joey argued, shaking her head despondently.
“From what I understand, almost everybody gets cold feet, Joey. It’s no big deal.”
Joey spun to face her. “It is a big deal,” she asserted.
“Why? Because it’s Dawson?” Jen rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to tell. And you can bet your ass he’s not going to. Pacey never needs to know about it,” she finished, turning to go back.
“It’s not about Dawson,” Joey admitted softly. “It’s not about cold feet and it’s not about having one last fling,” she continued, stone faced. “Pacey doesn’t love me.”
Jen snorted. “Of course he-”
“No,” she protested, shaking her head. “Not the way he should. Not the way a boyfriend loves a girlfriend.” She smiled thinly. “Or a husband loves his wife.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Jen whispered, concern etched in her features.
Joey shrugged and looked down. “There’s nothing to say. That’s just the way it is.”
Jack sucked in a sharp breath as he looked down at Pacey’s busy movements. His hands converged on his shoulders, slowly sliding up to thread through Pacey’s thick hair. As another surge of pleasure hit him, his fingers clenched, tugging harshly on the dark strands, provoking a deep moan from Pacey, the vibration from the sound only heightening his sensation. He grunted, pulling harder as he thrust himself further into Pacey’s eager mouth.
Pacey slowly released him, his hand continuing the work. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled broadly as he looked up at Jack. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Jack’s smile of satisfaction slowly faded, his eyes widening in shock and horror. Abruptly, he drew back, leaving Pacey to stare at him, confused.
“Oh, god,” he sighed, pulling his shorts back up and painfully tucking himself in.
“Jack?” The grin was still on Pacey’s lips, his tone light and curious.
“This is all a joke to you,” Jack whispered, his face contorted in anguish. “I’m a joke to you.”
Pacey stood and approached him, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, you’re not,” he said casually.
“I can’t believe I did this!” Jack shouted, turning and kicking the bookcase behind him. “I can’t believe I let you…” he trailed off, his voice quavering.
“Jack,” Pacey repeated, his manner vaguely condescendingly as he moved to place a placating hand on his arm.
He wheeled around, his eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t touch me!” He brushed Pacey off violently, his breathing becoming faster, more shallow.
Shocked at the outburst, Pacey stopped smiling and stepped back, watching him from a comfortable distance.
“I can’t be-…after all this,” Jack muttered, staring at the floor, half of his words barely audible. “Nothing’s different.” He quieted suddenly and brought his gaze back to Pacey. “You ruined my life,” he told him, his jaw stiff. “I lost years…I lost my whole sense of self because of you.”
Pacey looked at the floor, his normally lightning-quick wit incapable of forming a response.
“You were supposed to be my friend,” Jack continued, gaining volume. “I trusted you…and you fucking destroyed me!”
The accusation hit Pacey like a bullet, eradicating the glint of cockiness that still remained in his eyes. His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of Jack’s words, the truth he’d refused to let himself admit, had just been physically placed upon him.
Jack slammed his fist against the wall. “And you’re trying to do it again!” He cried, pushing off the wall and approaching Pacey gradually, the rigid muscles of his body broadcasting his fury. “Those four years weren’t enough. You had to prove to yourself that you could still get to me.”
Pacey shook his head, sinking into the chair at his side as Jack advanced on him. “No, it’s not like that,” he protested weakly.
“Yes,” Jack insisted, towering over Pacey. “But it stops now. I’m not doing this again. I hated myself when I was with you before; I don’t now. I don’t want you. Or this,” he finished, still staring down at him, waiting for an argument.
Pacey finally looked up at him, his expression serious. “I’m sorry.”
Jack sneered, but said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated earnestly. “I’ll leave you alone.” He began to stand, startled when Jack pushed him back into his seat.
“You’re sorry?” Jack bellowed. “What exactly for? For all of the drinking I did because I was so depressed about us?”
Pacey grimaced and compliantly leaned back into the chair, allowing Jack to continue.
“Or maybe you’re sorry for all the random and mostly not-so-pleasant guys I fucked trying to get you out of my head? Or for what I did to Jen?”
“Jen?” Pacey asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion.
Jack paused, distressed at how close he’d come to revealing what had happened the night he left. He’d never told anyone about it. He and Jen hadn’t even discussed it when they made contact again. “I ran away and didn’t talk to her for a year!” He covered lamely.
Pacey nodded. “I know. But you found your way back to each other and you’re obviously as close as you ever were,” he said, reaching out in an attempt to grasp Jack’s arms.
Jack drew back swiftly, a renewed surge of anger coursing through him. “Where the fuck do you get off telling me about my relationship with Jen? You don’t know a damn thing about it!” He roared, leaning forward over Pacey, his hands on either armrest of the chair. “You have no idea how fucking far gone I was. The things that happened on those nights you weren’t with me.” He crouched down, the careful control he’d been trying to hold onto slipping away completely. “I almost let some asshole rape Jen,” he admitted, the words slowly emerging through his gritted teeth. His hand went to the back of Pacey’s neck, bringing their faces within inches. “Right. In front. Of me.” He swallowed, blinking back a tear. “I almost raped Jen.”
Pacey exhaled loudly, his shock evident. Jack released him and turned away, trembling and swearing under his breath as he walked to the other side of the room and braced himself on the bookcase.
Tears were threatening to overtake him when he felt Pacey’s strong arms encircle him, heard his voice whisper his name. He shrugged defiantly, not wanting to let his anger be replaced by the remorse and grief that were streaming through him. Finally, he relented, allowing Pacey to turn him around and pull him closer, his head moving to rest on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Pacey whispered again, tenderly kissing his forehead and tightening the embrace.
“Guys?” Came a curious voice from the doorway.
“Dawson,” Jack said, immediately pushing out of the clinch. He glanced at Pacey and then down at himself, realizing how bizarre they had to look. “Pacey just got out of the shower…and I was working…” he mumbled weakly.
Dawson half-nodded before turning to look at Pacey, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and confusion. “Pace?”
Pacey crossed his arms and stared back at him blankly, silently challenging him to hazard a guess at what he was seeing. He appeared reluctant to offer an explanation; clearly unconcerned about what his oldest friend might be thinking.
“I was just talking to Pacey about my ex-boyfriend,” Jack lied hurriedly. “It was a messy break-up; I’m not handling it well and he was just-”
“Oh. Of course. I totally understand,” Dawson said quickly, cutting him off. His countenance had changed quickly during the rushed explanation; he was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry if I interrupted.”
Pacey rolled his eyes.
“You didn’t,” Jack protested, shooting an anxious glance at Pacey. “Where are the girls?” He asked, desperate to change the subject.
Dawson shrugged, paling slightly, though neither of the other men noticed. “They, uh, wanted to stay on the beach a while longer.” He explained, his eyes shifting swiftly from Pacey back to Jack as he spoke. He coughed and looked toward the hallway. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
Jack walked across the room, bending down to pick up his shirt. He kept his back to Pacey as he buttoned it. “You should go. I need to finish with that shelving,” he said flatly.
Pacey began to protest and move toward him, then apparently thought better of it and stopped, sighing in defeat. “Okay,” he agreed, almost to himself. He turned slowly and quietly left the room without looking back.
A soft creak escaped the hinges of the door as it opened in the dark, allowing just enough room for Pacey to step inside before he quietly pulled it shut. He approached the bed slowly, his hands held out to the sides in case his cursory glance had missed anything that might trip him on his course.
The cotton sheets were cool against his skin as he slid between them, turning his body to spoon Jack, who was asleep on his side. He touched his lips to the skin just below Jack’s ear and smoothed a hand over his stomach, pulling him closer.
Jack stirred in his sleep at the contact, sighing softly as Pacey continued to press kisses to his face and neck.
“Pace,” he rasped, still caught somewhere between sleep and waking. He pushed back against Pacey’s chest, nestling deeper into the embrace.
“God, Jack,” Pacey whispered into his hair. “I’m so sorry.”
“Pacey?” Jack asked, fully awake, his voice solid and suspicious. He pulled away and turned to face him. “What are you doing in here?”
He reached out, placing his palm on Jack’s chest. “I didn’t think we were done with our earlier conversation.”
Jack frowned but didn’t remove the hand. “What more do you think we have to say?”
“Not we,” Pacey began. “I have things I need to say to you. I know that apologies are meaningless at this point, but I want you to know-”
“Stop,” Jack sighed. “Please.”
“I was wrong, Jack. Not just for lying to you, or for continuing a relationship with you when I was with someone else.” He slid his hand up, curving it over Jack’s shoulder. “I was wrong from the start.”
Jack’s eyes shut tightly, his whole being going weak at the admission.
“From the first night I was with you, I knew I wanted us to be so much more than we were,” he explained.
“What?” Jack gasped, staring at him in confused amazement.
“We weren’t just about sex,” Pacey continued earnestly. “But I made us that way. When Joey showed up in my room that night, I had to make a choice. I was scared.” He dropped his gaze to Jack’s chest. “I knew exactly what I had with Joey, exactly what lay ahead for me. But with you,” he looked up, “it was all a big question mark. So I chose the safest path.”
“Which was fine,” Jack said, sighing as he pulled himself into a seated position, his back resting on the headboard. “But you didn’t have to lie to me about it.”
Pacey shook his head and sat up, joining him. “I would have lost you.”
Jack snorted irritably. “So I’m supposed to feel sorry for you because you wanted to have your cake and eat it, too?”
“I don’t want your pity,” Pacey claimed, laying a hand on his thigh. “I just want you to forgive me.”
“I can’t,” Jack said quickly, looking away from him. “I’ll ignore you…I’ll avoid you,” he glanced down at Pacey’s hand and shifted it to his crotch, his semi-erect cock immediately hardening fully under its touch. He looked back at him. “Or I’ll fuck you, if that’s what you want.” He shook his head resolutely. “But I will never forgive you for the years I wasted loving you.”
Undaunted, Pacey released him and brought his hand to Jack’s face, holding it gently. “They weren’t wasted years.” He swallowed hard, his eyes firmly fixed on Jack’s. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.” His right hand came to Jack’s cheek, framing his face. “And it wasn’t until you were gone that I realized it. I thought I could just be with Joey and never look back…but I’m miserable. I’m miserable because I don’t have you.”
Jack dipped his head down, unable to look at him anymore. “You don’t love me,” he insisted. “You used me. You used me to explore some…cravings, I believe, was how you put it.” He wrenched his head from Pacey’s grip. “And you’re still doing it. We both know you didn’t interrupt me this afternoon to profess your love.”
Pacey nodded guiltily. “I fell back into a pattern. I was reacting to the way you were behaving toward me,” he explained. “But I didn’t come in here tonight for sex.”
Chuckling, Jack glanced down at his erection as it strained against the thin fabric of his shorts. “That’s too bad. Because a meaningless fuck is all you’re going to get out of me,” he declared, his teasing tone underscored with menace.
Ignoring his protests, Jack climbed on top of Pacey and pushed him down onto the bed, grinding into him at the waist. With a malicious grin, Jack leaned down to trail a line of wet, sucking bites across his bare chest, thrusting against him each time Pacey gasped from the twinges of pain.
Pacey broke free of Jack’s grasp and pressed against his chest, shoving him away enough to try to roll off the bed. But Jack was on him again in an instant, his hand reaching down to grasp Pacey’s cock through his boxers. “Don’t pretend to fight it, Pace,” he whispered as it stiffened in his grip. “We both know that as far as you’re concerned, this is all I’ve ever been good for.”
He smiled again as he felt Pacey relent underneath him with an audible sigh. Hastily, he reached for Pacey’s shorts and started to slide them over his hips.
“Is this what you did to Jen?” Pacey asked dully, his lifeless gaze directed at the ceiling.
Jack paused and stared at him for a moment before slowly retracting his hands, sliding down and moving to sit on the side of the bed. “You don’t know anything about it,” he spat over his shoulder.
“I know that you’re angry,” Pacey responded. “And I know that whatever closure you think you’ve gotten means shit when you’re actually around me.”
“I’m not the same person,” Jack whispered to himself, though Pacey heard him.
“No, you’re not,” Pacey agreed, rising up on his knees behind him. “You’re a little older; you’re a little more cynical.” Gently, he placed his hands on Jack’s shoulders. “But you’re still hurting. And I’m still the cause of it.”
Jack was silent, unmoving.
Pacey leaned his forehead against the back of Jack’s head. “Let me make it up to you,” he requested, his arms encircling him, his lips finding the soft skin of Jack’s neck. “Please.”
Slowly, Jack turned, murmuring as their mouths connected lightly, this kiss lacking the demand of their previous encounters. Their lips and tongues moved languidly in concert, carefully exploring every inch of each other.
Not breaking contact, Pacey deftly pulled Jack onto the bed, settling beside him and grabbing the sheet to cover them before wrapping his arm around his back to pull him closer.
“I love you,” Pacey whispered, sucking Jack’s lower lip between his. He dotted kisses in a path to his ear, pulling on the lobe with his teeth as his hand smoothed over Jack’s waist and settled on his ass. “Tell me you love me.”
Jack moaned a sigh, drawing back to look him in the eye. “I do. I love you, Pacey.”
They kissed again, this one growing in fervor following their declarations, the hands that had been so tenderly and carefully exploring the landscape of each other’s bodies becoming more firm, more focused.
Pacey rolled onto his back, drawing Jack on top of him in the process, murmuring as their rigid cocks made contact through their shorts. Jack’s lips trailed downward, licking and sucking at Pacey’s neck and chest, his breathing ragged and shallow with arousal. A lengthy groan escaped his throat as Pacey’s hands took command of his ass, sliding under his thin boxers to grasp the smooth mounds of flesh and pull them harshly upward against his crotch.
Jack slid off of him, his hands moving purposefully to the apex of Pacey’s thighs. He cupped the outline of Pacey’s erection through the cotton that shielded it as his mouth worked its way down his chest, pausing to bite at a nipple. Feverishly, he gripped the elastic waistband of his shorts and stripped them off of him completely, parting his legs to climb between them.
He settled on his elbows, his eager lips poised above Pacey’s cock, so hard that it stood perpendicular to his body. Pacey raised himself up on a pillow to watch him, licking his lips as Jack licked his own. Jack moved down to kiss the skin around the base of Pacey’s shaft, letting only his cheek rub teasingly against the velvet skin. Pacey shuddered at the proximity, his cock straining against its skin in anticipation.
Finally, Jack moved his attention to Pacey’s shaft, his tongue running slowly upward, stopping to lavish moist attention around the tip. He lapped up the thick bead of liquid that crowned the opening there, using it to wet the tip further before sliding his mouth over its entire length. His free hand cupped Pacey’s balls as he continued to swallow and release his cock, two of the fingers dancing along his perineum and back, each time growing closer to the taut aperture. Pacey’s hips jerked up, welcoming the concentration on the muscle.
Jack obliged him; quickly moistening his finger before bringing it back and sliding it easily inside him, thrusting at the same pace at which his mouth enveloped his cock. He soon joined it with a second and third, speeding up his movements as Pacey grunted and writhed in response. His other hand replaced his mouth, busily stroking the saturated flesh as his lips widened to capture Pacey’s balls in one easy motion.
Gradually, he slowed his actions and released him, pulling himself up until he lay on top of him again. Pacey took hold of his head and guided Jack’s mouth to his, greedily sucking at his tongue as he reached down between them to grip Jack’s cock.
“I missed you so fucking much,” Pacey breathed, fondling Jack’s erection while sliding his hand into the crease of his ass and pressing his fingers to the tight opening. His eyes were heavily lidded as he watched Jack through a haze of arousal. “What do you want me to do?”
Jack shuddered as Pacey’s fingers slipped inside him. He drew back, putting his eyes level with Pacey’s. “I want you to fuck me.”
Joey threw her legs over the side of the bed and pulled herself to a seated position, sighing as she glanced at the glowing red numbers of the clock on the nightstand. Carefully, she did the math again, confirming to herself that Pacey had definitely been gone for half an hour. With trepidation, she stood and tiptoed to the door, putting her ear to the wood and listening for a moment before taking a deep breath and pulling it open.
The hallway was dim but easily navigable now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She stepped over to the railing and looked downstairs, her confusion growing as she noted that there didn’t appear to be any lights on, not even a faint glow or muffled sound emanating from the TV set.
“Joey,” came a soft whisper from her right. She glanced over, her furrowed brow relaxing and her lips curling into a small smile as she caught sight of Dawson standing in the doorway of his bedroom.
She beckoned him to join her where she stood, her head tilted as she continued to listen, hearing only silence in the large house.
“What took you so long? I was getting worried,” he said quietly, his arm slipping around her waist to draw her against him.
She chewed on her lower lip before answering. “I don’t know where Pacey is. He got up over twenty minutes ago and he hasn’t come back.”
Dawson shrugged and pointed downward.
Joey shook her head. “No one’s down there.”
He lifted his hand to his chin as if a thought had just occurred to him. “I heard someone out here a little while ago. They didn’t go downstairs; I would have heard the steps creaking.” He glanced around the bend in the hallway. “And the bathroom’s empty.”
“So where is he?” She asked, baffled.
Dawson thought for a moment. “Jen?”
Annoyed, Joey rolled her eyes. “I don’t even care,” she declared, walking past Dawson on a course for his room. She stopped suddenly outside Jack’s door, a quiet voice from within drawing her attention.
Dawson walked up behind her, regarding her curiously until she tilted her head toward the door.
They stood perfectly still, their eyes widening as they both were able to make out Jack clearly speaking the words, “fuck me.”
Joey drew back in surprise and turned to look at Dawson. “Does he have a boyfriend we don’t know about?”
“No,” Dawson answered quickly. “He told me he’d just broken-” He paused, the memory of Pacey and Jack’s intimate clinch earlier that afternoon and the shaky, rapid alibi Jack had provided him for it rushing back to him. Without reservation, he reached past Joey and grabbed the knob, pushing open the door and flicking on the light switch.
“What the-” Jack gasped, twisting his head to the side. “Holy shit!” He cried, immediately moving across the far side of the bed and sliding down to the floor, facing away from Joey and Dawson as they stepped into the room, utterly dumbfounded by the scene before them.
Pacey grappled with the sheet, covering himself as best he could as he scrambled for an explanation. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered. “Jo, I….I’m so sorry.”
“Oh my…god,” she squeaked out, turning to Dawson and burying her head in his chest as she began to sob.
“Jo, please,” Pacey called, looking frantically for his shorts as he attempted to stand, his nudity making it impossible.
Dawson watched him with unmasked contempt. “Classy, Pace. Fucking Jack, huh? And in the next room, no less.”
Jack flinched at the sound of his name and timidly peered over the mattress at the rest of them, anxiously awaiting the onslaught of accusations and insults he expected he would receive.
“Shut the fuck up, Dawson,” Pacey muttered looking at the floor. “None of this concerns y...” He suddenly pulled his gaze upward, narrowing his eyes at the pair suspiciously. “Jo, why are you and Dawson up, together, at this hour?”
Ever so slowly, Joey turned her head, peeking at Pacey through the thick curtain of her hair.
“Jack?” Jen mumbled as she stumbled into the room, her hair mussed, her eyes blinking rapidly in the brightness. After catching sight of her, Jack dropped his head into his hands, defeated.
Joey’s head snapped toward her as she approached. “You!” She screeched, startling Jen. “You promised me! You said, ‘Pacey never has to know’!”
“I never have to know wha-” He stopped abruptly, his jaw dropping in amazement. “You fucked Dawson?”
Joey ignored him, pushing out of Dawson’s embrace and marching over to Jen, irate.
Pacey looked over at Dawson, unable to miss the openly smug expression on his face. “You’re fucking my fiancée.”
Dawson crossed his arms. “Somebody should be.”
“Excuse me?” Pacey asked, his tone dangerous.
“Joey says you haven’t fucked her in weeks, Pace.” Dawson stepped closer, dipping his head in Jack’s direction. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that that’s because she doesn’t have a dick.”
Pacey ignored the jab without bothering to look back at Jack. He reached once again under the sheet for his boxers and pulled them out this time, slipping them on before he spoke again. “So, what? You thought it was your duty as the soulmate to step in?”
Dawson sneered, taking a step back as Pacey rose and moved toward him. “I was being a friend.”
Pacey looked past him at Joey, who was still listening to Jen’s claims that she hadn’t revealed anything. “How was it, Jo? Did those three minutes make up for every one of my shortcomings?”
Joey spun around. “Fuck you, Pacey.”
They stared at each other for a long, quiet moment, their eyes radiating with equal amounts of hostility.
Dawson coughed, breaking the tension. “I’m getting the fuck out of here.” He walked to the door, stopping to place a hand on Joey’s arm. “Do you need a ride?”
She ignored him briefly, her angry gaze still fixed on Pacey. “Yes,” she finally answered, not looking at him. “Yes, I do.”
They strode out the door together without a backward glance, Dawson’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
“That’s right, Jo,” Pacey shouted, walking to the doorway to watch them. “Take your predictable ass back home to Dawson.” He turned back to Jack and rolled his eyes before sinking onto the mattress and settling on his back, his eyes closing as he let out an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion.
“Well,” Jen breathed from her place next to the door. “I must say it’s touching to see that you boys managed to find your way back to one another,” she remarked, the biting sarcasm of her voice stinging to Jack.
“Jen, it’s not-”
“Spare me, Jack,” she interrupted, holding up her hand. “I’m so not in the mood to deal with this again. I’m going to bed. We can talk about checking you into a nice sanitarium tomorrow,” she finished, shutting the door behind her as she left.
Jack pulled his legs back on the bed and leaned against the headboard, staring down at Pacey. “I guess you’re not engaged anymore.”
“Guess not,” Pacey agreed, his eyes still shut.
“Are you okay?”
Pacey shrugged, opening his eyes slowly. “We were never going to get married.”
Jack snorted, his face wrinkling up in incredulity. “What do you mean?”
“She fucked Dawson,” Pacey said simply, raising himself up on his elbows.
“Which you only just found out,” Jack countered.
“Obviously it’s not the only reason,” he added, shaking his head. “I just know that we wouldn’t have been able to go through with the marriage.” He chuckled bitterly. “I would have left her at the altar before Dawson even had his chance to ‘speak now’.”
Jack laughed softly, in spite of himself. “Which he inevitably would have.”
Pacey nodded, said nothing.
“You should probably go,” Jack suggested quietly.
Pacey furrowed his brow. “You don’t want me to...” He paused, considering their situation. “You’re probably right. Just let me give her some time to pack.” He stood and walked to the door, listening for a minute. Jack moved across the bed, sitting so that his legs hung over the side of the mattress that Pacey had just vacated.
“I guess you need to think about all this,” Pacey said as he walked back, sitting next to Jack and taking his hand. “I mean, you know how I feel; what I want.”
Jack stared at their intertwined fingers, breathing deeply.
“Tomorrow morning, okay?” Pacey said. “We’ll get up and get out of the house; go somewhere quiet where we can figure everything out.”
He nodded. “Okay. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Pacey leaned in and kissed him firmly, his tongue slipping easily inside Jack’s mouth. He brought his free hand to the back of Jack’s neck, holding him there as he feasted on his lips and tongue. Some time later, he pulled away, sighing heavily. “Goodnight.”
Jack stared at him for a long moment, a world’s worth of feelings and questions swimming in his head. He stroked Pacey’s cheek with his thumb before capturing his lower lip between his and gently releasing it.
“Goodnight.”
Andie turned away from the stove, frying pan in hand, shook her head in amazement.
“They left?” She asked incredulously. “They fought with Pacey in the middle of the night and just stormed out of the house together?”
Jen nodded, sipping her orange juice. “It was a really big fight,” she explained.
“About what?” Andie prodded. “I mean, with those three I can make educated guesses, but what exactly happened?”
Jen shrugged, struggling to think of something. “I don’t really know, but they’re obviously not past their high school bullshit. I doubt they ever will be.”
Andie murmured, turning back to flip the pancakes she was making. She set the pan down and moved back to lean against the kitchen island where Jen was sitting, eating a banana.
“Pacey,” she cooed sympathetically as he shuffled into the room, his hair unkempt, his clothes rumpled.
“Mornin’” he mumbled, giving her a sad smile as he pulled another stool up to the counter. “I guess you heard about the things that went bump and then bye-bye in the night.”
She moved around behind him to encircle him with comforting arms. “I’m really sorry, Pacey.”
He leaned back into her, his head resting just below her neck. “It’s okay. It’s probably better that it happened now, before we’d invited over a hundred of our nearest and dearest to share in the sham.”
She kissed the top of his head. “I don’t know how you manage to have such a good attitude about everything,” she remarked admiringly, moving to his side to look him in the eyes. “I just hope you’ve realized that you deserve much better.”
He blushed and shook his head, oblivious to the look of naked contempt he was receiving from Jen. “Stop,” he sighed, smiling.
“I will not,” Andie argued, piling the finished pancakes onto a plate and setting the whole stack in front of him. “You are one of the best people I know, Pacey. You’re sweet and loving and loyal, and you should be with someone who appreciates those things about you.”
He poured a generous amount of syrup onto the pancakes. “I’ll be on the lookout for that.”
“Andie?” Gianni called out from the hallway. He rushed into the kitchen a moment later, looking concerned. “Where’s Jack?”
She looked thoughtful for a moment. “He’s not in his room?”
“No,” Gianni answered. “And most of his things are missing.”
Jen stood up on the rungs of the stool to peek out the window, noting that the silver Saab was gone. “His car’s not here.” She glanced angrily at Pacey. He was watching her, his face conveying his confusion.
“He’s not…he couldn’t be gone. He wouldn’t do that again,” Jen muttered rapidly, mostly to herself. “He just went for a drive.”
“But he took all of his stuff! Where would he have gone?” Andie asked, panic creeping into her tone. Gianni moved to her, gently gripping her shoulders with his hands.
“Fuck,” Jen sighed, sinking back onto her seat. “Fuck,” she repeated.
“We have to look for him,” Andie said, untying her apron and shutting off the burners of the stove. She turned to Jen and Pacey at the island, looking imploringly at them.
Their gazes moved from Andie to each other in sync. Pacey’s face still reflected his perceived innocence while Jen’s growing fury seemed to contort hers more with each passing second. He stared back at her stubbornly for a long, quiet moment before dropping his eyes, losing that battle.
Jen turned back to Andie, shaking her head sadly. “Don’t bother.”
Jen pulled the door toward herself as she twisted the key, sighing with relief when the trick worked and it unlocked, just as Joey had said it would. She stepped into the apartment warily, glancing around a few times before calling Pacey’s name. The word echoed loudly off the walls, revealing the emptiness inside before Jen even had a chance to look around. She knew that an apartment full of furniture, an apartment that was lived in, wouldn’t have such good acoustics.
Disappointed by this latest dead end, she fought tears as she wandered through the space where Joey and Pacey had lived their life together until the month before. Their leftover belongings, the things it seemed neither of them wanted, had been tossed haphazardly into a few cardboard boxes which awaited rescue or rummaging. They were covered with a light film of dust, an indication to Jen that it had been awhile since anyone had been here.
She stepped hesitantly into the bedroom, surprised to the see the full mattress, stripped of all linens, sitting atop the box spring, both held off the floor by a metal bed frame. The room was barren aside from that and a few magazines scattered on the floor where a nightstand had probably been.
Jen sank onto the bed, the hollowness in her chest overwhelming her as she acknowledged that this was it; there was no where left to look. Jack had been gone for over a month with no word. Joey had been moved out of the apartment and back at the B&B by the time Pacey arrived home, the night they’d realized Jack was missing. Jen had argued bitterly with Pacey that day, making sure to leave nothing unsaid. He hadn’t returned any of her calls in the following weeks.
Finally, exhausted from comforting Andie while stifling her own tears, Jen had broken down and gone to Joey, insisting that she needed to get in touch with Pacey; needed to know if he’d heard anything. Joey had handed her the apartment key with a tight-lipped smile, telling her to send Pacey her and Dawson’s regards.
She thought back to that last conversation with him, the resentful and unremorseful way in which he’d dismissed her accusations about his relationship with Jack. He hadn’t said or done anything to drive him off, he’d claimed. Jack had left without giving him a chance.
She sighed sadly and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly as she closed her eyes.
She could see them together. Jack with Pacey; relaxed and happy. They walked along the beach behind the Nantucket house, their arms around each other as the sun gleamed brightly off them. They paused, Pacey pulling Jack closer to kiss him while Jack smiled; no fear of castigation, no fear of abandonment, anywhere to be found on his content face.
Jen opened her eyes again, looking sadly at the stark reality before her. She wondered for what seemed like the thousandth time where Jack had gone, now adding the question of where Pacey was as well. She knew it was too much to ask, too much to hope even, that Jack was finally happy. That he finally had exactly what he wanted and exactly who he wanted it with. No, wherever Jack was, he was alone; still confused, still unhappy. And Pacey was undoubtedly hundreds of miles away from him, in every respect.
But still she saw them. Now, even with her eyes open. They had to be together. She’d make them be together, if only in her mind. She needed to, for Jack’s sake.
And for her own.