Normally, I don't post my 100Moods fics here, but I'm really proud of how this one turned out, so I'm going to post it here. It can also be found on my LiveJournal here. Enjoy!
Title: Lonely (10/100)
Characters: Griffin O'Conner, David Rice
Prompt: #60 - Lonely
Word Count: 1762 (Oh, my God, it's bigger than we thought!)
Warnings/Spoilers: Drunk!Griffin, boy kisses and a bit of straddling
Established relationship? No.
Summary: Griffin had simply nodded and watched as David took one last self-conscious look at himself and jumped away.
A/N: Just keep in mind I have no idea what it's like to be drunk or to be around someone who is, so this could be a complete fail.
David was out with Millie again. The prick.
Griffin had said nothing when he saw David getting dressed up in as fancy an outfit as he could muster, instead choosing to to just watch and take in all the details one wouldn't notice at a first glance; the way his coat was slightly bunched up in the back, or the tiniest of scuffs on the inside of his left shoe.
Of course, Griffin did find himself wondering why he was paying so much attention to the most minor of details, but he couldn't think of a reason why that didn't make him sound obsessed or like a stalker.
“Right,” David had said, looking down to examine his clothing. “I'm off. I might not be back tonight, so don't wait up.” Griffin had simply nodded and watched as David took one last self-conscious look at himself and jumped away.
Whenever David was in the lair, it seemed like he was doing everything he could to piss Griffin off, and yet whenever he left – for whatever bullshit reason – the place seemed so empty. Griffin hated the feeling of it; he'd lived on his own since he was sixteen, after all, so why should the solitude bother him now? David's incessant buzzing around him like an irritating mosquito was a serious annoyance, and Griffin had cursed himself many times for getting involved in the Yank's life in the first place.
Despite this, though, he couldn't bring himself to regret meeting David entirely. For the first time in years, he'd allowed someone into his life, however reluctantly, and some good things had come of it, such as the fact that Roland's efforts to kill them seemed to have less motivation, and that there was always someone to blame for everything. Griffin liked to do that, having once even blamed David for getting coffee on the chair, even though it was actually him that had done it. David hadn't touched a coffee in weeks, and yet he accepted the blame, almost like a rite of passage towards living in the lair with Griffin.
The thing about this, though, was that now he felt a strange sense of isolation when David was not there, like what he was feeling now.
Frustrated, he threw down his controller and stood up. The idea that he was feeling lonely was not one he wished to entertain, so he mentally booted it as far back in his mind as it would go.
Griffin jumped to a liquor store in London and bought two six packs of beer. He was only getting two because the cans didn't hold very much, he told himself when he began questioning whether two packs instead of one was a good idea. The cashier, a bored looking man in his forties with a receding hairline, gave him a funny look, and in response, Griffin simply glared before taking the two packs and his receipt and walking out.
Upon jumping back, he immediately opened up one of the packs and flopped down onto the sofa, silently toasting with the air before taking a swig.
The sound of a jump startled Griffin, and his eyes shot open, immediately letting in light and a lot of pain. He groaned and looked at the clock that was set to the lair's time-zone. 12:01am. He gingerly leant forward and put his head in his hands, groaning.
He looked up again when he heard the sound of someone kicking a can.
“Jesus, Griffin,” David commented, glancing around at the crumpled cans on the floor. “I leave you for – what? Four hours? - and this happens?”
Griffin let out a noise that was somewhere between a chuckle and another groan of pain. “Apparently so,” he muttered, clearing his throat.
David shook his head in what could have been bewilderment or annoyance, and he made his way over to the sofa, carefully avoiding stepping on anything.
Griffin said nothing, instead massaging his temples in a vain attempt to relieve his headache. He shifted a little, allowing a little more room for David to sit down next to him.
“What happened?” David asked, keeping his voice low so as not to make Griffin's headache worse.
Griffin sighed. “Wanted a drink, so I had a drink,” he replied, gesturing at the empty cans on the floor.
David shrugged. “I can see that.”
The two sat in silence for a little while, but then Griffin leant over and put his head on David's shoulder, surprising the Yank a little. Despite his surprise, David made no move to push Griffin off. Strangely, he found the gentle weight of Griffin's head on his shoulder to be quite comfortable, and plus, the smaller Jumper was warm enough to be a human radiator, which made a nice contrast to the now-cold desert outside.
David thought about the evening, wondering if there had been any particular reason why Griffin had felt the need to drown any sorrows. It couldn't have been something he did, right? There was nothing he could think of that would have upset or pissed off Griffin more than usual. Maybe he should just ask. He was unlikely to get a straight answer, whether Griffin was drunk or not, but it couldn't hurt to try.
“Hey, Griffin?” he asked, hesitating slightly.
Without opening his eyes, Griffin murmured something akin to “What?”.
“Was it something I did?” At this, Griffin opened his eyes and lifted his head up, shooting David a confused glance. David took a breath. “Obviously something happened to make you want to drink like that, so was it something I did?”
Griffin shrugged and rubbed one of his eyes.
Letting out a slightly frustrated sigh, David asked, “Why the shrug? Can you not give a straight answer?”
Griffin simply stared blankly at him, and that frustrated him even further. “Griffin, did I do something to annoy you? That's all I want to know.”
“Why do you care?” Griffin muttered. “You weren't here when it happened, were you?”
“Maybe not, but I do kinda live here, Griffin, and it's helpful to know if something I did has pissed you off. Now, seriously, what's the problem?”
Griffin suddenly smirked, taking David by surprise. “Your mum,” he responded, giggling like a child. It was at this point that David's temper got the better of him and he pushed Griffin over and straddled him, pinning him to the sofa.
Griffin groaned as his head hit the cushion, but then continued giggling. “Now it looks like you want to shag me,” he pointed out, laughing. A look of annoyance crossed David's face.
“Just answer the damn question,” he growled. He sounded angry enough that Griffin's mirth subsided and he looked away from David. “Did I do something to annoy you or not?”
This seemed to make Griffin sober up a little, and he flicked an almost nervous glance at David. David's look of anger had partially dissipated, leaving a bit of that but mostly concern – concern, Griffin realised, that was directed at him.
“Griffin?” David asked.
Griffin suddenly shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “You didn't do anything.” David didn't look as if he necessarily believed him, but he moved to get off him. He was stopped, however, by Griffin grabbing the front of his shirt and quickly flipped them over so that David was the one lying on the sofa with Griffin straddling him instead.
He was about to protest when Griffin leant down and captured his lips in a kiss. David opened his mouth in shock, and Griffin used that opportunity to thrust his tongue into David's mouth. David was mentally freaking out.
What the hell was Griffin doing? Obviously he wasn't thinking straight, and David knew the reason why, of course – he could taste the alcohol on the smaller Jumper's breath – but why he'd decided to kiss him, David didn't know. He attempted to push Griffin off him, but the Brit wouldn't allow that to happen.
Griffin broke the kiss and instead began kissing David's neck, causing David to let out an involuntary moan.
“Griffin,” David said half-heartedly. “Stop...” Unexpectedly, Griffin did stop, and he sat up, still straddling David. He looked questioningly down at him, and David took a breath, trying to collect his thoughts. Looking back at Griffin, he said, “What are you doing?”
“Answering your question,” Griffin replied. David shot him a confused look, and a small smile crossed Griffin's features. “You asked why I was drinking, and that's why.”
David hesitated. “Well, I didn't exactly ask why would were drinking. I asked if it was because of something I did, and what does kissing me have to do with answering my question?”
Griffin sighed heavily, which made David feel like he'd failed some kind of test. “When you went out with Millie,” Griffin said in a voice not much louder than a whisper, “I guess I felt a little lonely.”
David raised an eyebrow. “And you kissed me, why?”
Griffin took a rather shaky breath. “I don't know, is the honest answer. I just had a sudden urge to kiss you, and so I did.”
David stayed silent for a moment, but then he suddenly burst out laughing, making Griffin jump. “Griffin, are you jealous of Millie?” he asked with a teasing note in his voice.
Griffin felt his ears go red, and he looked away. Knowing that David had pretty much hit the nail on the head, he didn't bother to deny it.
David's laughter subsided. His eyes widened and he stared at Griffin. “Oh, my God, you are,” he said, more to get the message into his own head than into Griffin's. “But... Since when?”
Griffin shrugged. “I don't know.” Realising that he was still sat atop David's lap, he quickly got up off the sofa and groaned as a wave of both pain and dizziness overcame him. David jumped up and steadied him.
“I think it's time for bed, Griffin,” David said. Griffin nodded and jumped next to the bed with David still in tow. He didn't even bother to get undressed, apart from taking off his jacket, before getting into bed and covering himself in the duvet. He'd almost dozed off when he felt David get into bed next to him.
David wrapped his arms around Griffin and drew him closer. “We'll sort this out in the morning,” he whispered. Griffin said nothing, but he fell asleep with a smile on his face.