I'm back! Thanks to this new pairing. This was inspired by the Collingwood loss to Sydney in the weekend. Enjoy :)
I think I'll go over to my sisters' for a day or two.
You're not coming home?
I don't think I'll be very good company for a while.
I don't care. I miss you.
You're in a good place right now. I don't want to ruin it.
I don't think there is any situation when I'd ever regret having you with me.
So you won't mind me moping around the house while you prepare for the Grand Final?
I hate this house without you in it. Come home. Please.
Okay.
Do you want me to come pick you up?
It's alright. You'll probably be busy won't you?
No. I'll come get you.
---
Sharrod looks so tired, so beaten that it takes all the restraint Buddy has not to fold him in his arms, to not kiss him and make him forget the hurt. But they have rules. About public places. Like they do about Twitter. For the rest of the world they're just close friends. Buddy can't count the number of times he'd wanted to say 'fuck it' and kiss Sharrod on a sidewalk just to see people's reactions. He hasn't yet. He wonders if there ever will be a time when he wouldn't care what the world thought of him anymore. He hopes so.
Sharrod smiles when he spots him. A gentle smile that doesn't take away the sadness in his eyes. Buddy wraps an arm around him, taking Sharrod's bag in the same movement and slinging it over his shoulder. Sharrod sighs and rests his head against Buddy's shoulder for a moment.
"Hey," Buddy whispers to the dark mass of Sharrod's hair. Sharrod's fingers clench in Buddy's shirt as he takes a deep breath and draws back, out of Buddy's arms but staying close.
"Hi."
"Let's get you home," Buddy says and they head for the car. "James and Quade are cooking up a feast."
Sharrod tenses a little beside him.
"But we don't have to do that today. The boys can come over some other time," Buddy says tentatively.
"No. It's fine," Sharrod says as they reach the car and Buddy throws the bag in the back seat and climbs in the driver's seat.
"I just didn't think it would hurt so much," Sharrod laughs in the passenger seat. There is no joy in the sound, just weary sadness. "It's not even a Grand Final. Not like…"
Last year.
Buddy hears the unspoken words. Last year hurt. Had broken Sharrod's heart. They had only begun to know each other and Buddy had taken some time to realise that Sharrod is not one to throw things, or scream or lash out when he's upset. Instead Sharrod barely said anything to anyone, barely ate and one day Buddy found him crying quietly in the bathroom and realised how much he was hurting. He spirited Sharrod away up to Queensland, after Quade insisted and James has never known how to take 'no' for an answer. It helped a little. He even managed to get Sharrod to smile once in a while. Of course getting away from the footy crazy Melbourne helped. And all the sunshine. And James. Buddy was only just beginning to understand that it is impossible to be unhappy when James is around.
Buddy eases them on to the freeway, always keeping an eye on Sharrod. They don't speak the rest of the way. But when they reach home and Buddy kills the engine, Sharrod reaches out and grips his hand.
"Thank you," he says, voice quiet and sincere. Buddy folds the hand in both of his' with a small smile.
"Anytime."
James jumps in to Sharrod's arms when he enters the house.
"Sharrod! Thank god you're back! Buddy is no fun at all when you're not around!" James exclaims, drawing a smile from Sharrod.
Quade nods a gentle ‘hello’ from where he is stirring something on the stove. "Welcome back man."
"Thanks guys," Sharrod says, kissing James's golden hair. Buddy follows him to their bedroom, leans against the door frame and watches Sharrod sifting through his clothes. "I'm gonna go have a shower okay," Sharrod says, turning around to look at Buddy. He pauses, catching Buddy watching him and smiles softly. He throws the clothes on the bed and walks towards Buddy. Sharrod touches Buddy's face with gentle fingers. Buddy automatically wraps both arms around him.
"I'll be fine," Sharrod whispers, catching Buddy's lips with his own for a light kiss.
"I know." Buddy pulls him closer for a longer kiss. A sudden clang from the kitchen and a loud yelp makes Sharrod draw back with a laugh.
"You better go and rescue our dinner," Sharrod says, picking up his clothes and heading towards the bathroom.
Buddy grins and yells back at the kitchen. "James, what the hell are you doing to my kitchen?"
---
Sharrod can't sleep. The dinner, despite James doing his best to burn it, turned out fairly well. Quade really is a great cook. It was nice to just sit with such close friends and relax. And Buddy. He almost wishes Buddy doesn't care about him so much. Those green eyes constantly fixed on him, making sure the conversation never strayed close to football at all. But given the Grand Final is next week he doubts they can avoid the topic. Especially since Buddy will be playing in it. The whole week will be filled with breakfasts, parades, interviews and Sharrod is happy for him. He is. It's just every moment of that will be rubbing salt in to his wounds. He knows he's being unfair. That last year his team was responsible for knocking the Hawks out of the finals. And then they went on to lose the Grand Final. Buddy took such good care of him even if Sharrod was in a way responsible for one of the worst days of his life. So he hopes Buddy makes it. He never wants any heartache to touch Buddy. Always wants those green eyes lit of with joy and mischief. He gently traces the lines of ink running along Buddy's arm that is laying across his chest, his head nestled so close to Sharrod's that he can feel the air on his skin every time Buddy breathes. He closes his eyes and focusses on matching his breathing to Buddy's. When sleep claims him, he is smiling.
The End.
I think I'll go over to my sisters' for a day or two.
You're not coming home?
I don't think I'll be very good company for a while.
I don't care. I miss you.
You're in a good place right now. I don't want to ruin it.
I don't think there is any situation when I'd ever regret having you with me.
So you won't mind me moping around the house while you prepare for the Grand Final?
I hate this house without you in it. Come home. Please.
Okay.
Do you want me to come pick you up?
It's alright. You'll probably be busy won't you?
No. I'll come get you.
---
Sharrod looks so tired, so beaten that it takes all the restraint Buddy has not to fold him in his arms, to not kiss him and make him forget the hurt. But they have rules. About public places. Like they do about Twitter. For the rest of the world they're just close friends. Buddy can't count the number of times he'd wanted to say 'fuck it' and kiss Sharrod on a sidewalk just to see people's reactions. He hasn't yet. He wonders if there ever will be a time when he wouldn't care what the world thought of him anymore. He hopes so.
Sharrod smiles when he spots him. A gentle smile that doesn't take away the sadness in his eyes. Buddy wraps an arm around him, taking Sharrod's bag in the same movement and slinging it over his shoulder. Sharrod sighs and rests his head against Buddy's shoulder for a moment.
"Hey," Buddy whispers to the dark mass of Sharrod's hair. Sharrod's fingers clench in Buddy's shirt as he takes a deep breath and draws back, out of Buddy's arms but staying close.
"Hi."
"Let's get you home," Buddy says and they head for the car. "James and Quade are cooking up a feast."
Sharrod tenses a little beside him.
"But we don't have to do that today. The boys can come over some other time," Buddy says tentatively.
"No. It's fine," Sharrod says as they reach the car and Buddy throws the bag in the back seat and climbs in the driver's seat.
"I just didn't think it would hurt so much," Sharrod laughs in the passenger seat. There is no joy in the sound, just weary sadness. "It's not even a Grand Final. Not like…"
Last year.
Buddy hears the unspoken words. Last year hurt. Had broken Sharrod's heart. They had only begun to know each other and Buddy had taken some time to realise that Sharrod is not one to throw things, or scream or lash out when he's upset. Instead Sharrod barely said anything to anyone, barely ate and one day Buddy found him crying quietly in the bathroom and realised how much he was hurting. He spirited Sharrod away up to Queensland, after Quade insisted and James has never known how to take 'no' for an answer. It helped a little. He even managed to get Sharrod to smile once in a while. Of course getting away from the footy crazy Melbourne helped. And all the sunshine. And James. Buddy was only just beginning to understand that it is impossible to be unhappy when James is around.
Buddy eases them on to the freeway, always keeping an eye on Sharrod. They don't speak the rest of the way. But when they reach home and Buddy kills the engine, Sharrod reaches out and grips his hand.
"Thank you," he says, voice quiet and sincere. Buddy folds the hand in both of his' with a small smile.
"Anytime."
James jumps in to Sharrod's arms when he enters the house.
"Sharrod! Thank god you're back! Buddy is no fun at all when you're not around!" James exclaims, drawing a smile from Sharrod.
Quade nods a gentle ‘hello’ from where he is stirring something on the stove. "Welcome back man."
"Thanks guys," Sharrod says, kissing James's golden hair. Buddy follows him to their bedroom, leans against the door frame and watches Sharrod sifting through his clothes. "I'm gonna go have a shower okay," Sharrod says, turning around to look at Buddy. He pauses, catching Buddy watching him and smiles softly. He throws the clothes on the bed and walks towards Buddy. Sharrod touches Buddy's face with gentle fingers. Buddy automatically wraps both arms around him.
"I'll be fine," Sharrod whispers, catching Buddy's lips with his own for a light kiss.
"I know." Buddy pulls him closer for a longer kiss. A sudden clang from the kitchen and a loud yelp makes Sharrod draw back with a laugh.
"You better go and rescue our dinner," Sharrod says, picking up his clothes and heading towards the bathroom.
Buddy grins and yells back at the kitchen. "James, what the hell are you doing to my kitchen?"
---
Sharrod can't sleep. The dinner, despite James doing his best to burn it, turned out fairly well. Quade really is a great cook. It was nice to just sit with such close friends and relax. And Buddy. He almost wishes Buddy doesn't care about him so much. Those green eyes constantly fixed on him, making sure the conversation never strayed close to football at all. But given the Grand Final is next week he doubts they can avoid the topic. Especially since Buddy will be playing in it. The whole week will be filled with breakfasts, parades, interviews and Sharrod is happy for him. He is. It's just every moment of that will be rubbing salt in to his wounds. He knows he's being unfair. That last year his team was responsible for knocking the Hawks out of the finals. And then they went on to lose the Grand Final. Buddy took such good care of him even if Sharrod was in a way responsible for one of the worst days of his life. So he hopes Buddy makes it. He never wants any heartache to touch Buddy. Always wants those green eyes lit of with joy and mischief. He gently traces the lines of ink running along Buddy's arm that is laying across his chest, his head nestled so close to Sharrod's that he can feel the air on his skin every time Buddy breathes. He closes his eyes and focusses on matching his breathing to Buddy's. When sleep claims him, he is smiling.
The End.
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