lost boy.

jojen reed. fifteen. taken. london, uk. studying at brampton college. ([email protected]) biography. / timeline. / ooc contact.

[t-baratheons]

in the light of the morning [closed: tommen and jojen] [august 29]

[t-baratheons]

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[jojenread-blog]

Jojen nods, nervous and he suddenly thinks this is a very bad idea because Tommen is looking at him like he's Atlas, like he's supposed to be a titan who can hold the world in the palm of his hand and the pressure builds in his chest until he can hardly breathe. 

Tommen bites down at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder and Jojen's stomach does backflips. He breathes, shifting back and settling a hand down on Tommen's shoulder and hip, easing him back onto his bed (with the dinosaur sheets he's had since he was a child - he'd brought them from Scotland to have a piece of home). He's not entirely sure about how to do this so he keeps his eyes on Tommen's. 

When his boyfriend is laying down on the bed looking up at him, eyes dark, Jojen prostrates himself between Tommen's legs, sweeping down to kiss him, slow, timid. "Do you trust me?" he whispers.

[jojenread-blog]

✆ phone call: fishing for the answer with a line and sinker [closed: bran and jojen] [august 13th, afternoon]

[bransstarked]

[After receiving the phone call from Meera, Bran had found it hard to go back to sleep. Riled up from his own emotions, and the impending guilt of impressing them on Meera makes sleep rather elusive. It finds him nearly an hour or so later. The call invades his dreams, and he casts himself as the villain. Though he hadn’t meant to yell, he didn’t. It’s all just…getting out of control, and Bran can’t do anything about it.

It’s almost too strange that later in the day he gets a call from Jojen. It’s been a while, that much Bran can say, but after Meera…he is rather timid about answering it. What if Meera had been more upset than she let on? He couldn’t bear making her feel worse than she already did, it wasn’t…it isn’t what he does. 

Eventually, he picks up the phone, hearing Jojen’s voice on the other end. Nothing too warning about that, the same tone he’s used to, so Bran smiles a bit and replies,] Jojen, how are you? 

[jojenread-blog]

M'alright. [It's the truth, too. Because he has Tommen and he and Tommen are finally starting to get okay. There's not crying every night, no one is accidentally reported dead by the BBC. He misses his best friend, but he's starting to get a pattern here, in London. Things are starting to work.

But, of course, Meera cried because of Bran last night and that sits like a time bomb in Jojen's stomach because as much as he loves Bran and loves Tommen, Meera will always be the one he drops everything for.] How are you mate? Heard you spoke to Meera. Is everything alright?

[t-baratheons]

in the light of the morning [closed: tommen and jojen] [august 29]

[t-baratheons]

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[jojenread-blog]

Tommen crawls into his lap, long limbs, his hair falling into his face and presses his lips to the corner of Jojen's mouth. He's warm and solid and here, snapping Jojen from his thoughts - which are still swirling, murky and dark, but further away now. Tommen is golden, sunlight pushing through clouds. Jojen blinks, knocking their noses together. 

Filling me up. Jojen swallows. He thinks about it for a moment, being inside Tommen, warm and - well he's not quite sure and he wonders. (He thinks about the few bits of things he's watched, the way they look. Jojen swallows.)

"Okay," Jojen says and lets out a breath. Then he laughs, the nervousness inside his throat bubbling over. He feels silly - this is Tommen. Tommen who loves him and who he loves. Tommen is safe and he wants Tommen. He smiles wide and kisses his boyfriend.

[jojenread-blog]

cold cereal and tv before i got to bed [closed: shireen and jojen] [september 15th]

[baratheonshireen-blog]

Too worried about trying to keep him away from the guards and hidden quickly upstairs before someone told her parents, Jojen’s hug takes her by surprise, but thankfully her squeak is muffled by his shirt. She hugs him back without hesitation, already used to Tommen’s affectionate gestures. It does throw her off, momentarily, because Jojen isn’t family (it rattles her, because Shireen doesn’t like people who aren’t family, doesn’t trust them after the riots.) but he is warm and smells a bit like Tommen that it’s easy to close her eyes and just stop worrying about unnecessary things.

That was why he was over, after all. To spend time with her and help her take her mind off the gala. 

"What’s in the bag?" she whispers to him, as she leads him upstairs, shooting a squinted gaze every so often to the guards that were watching them warily ascend the stairs. She almost stumbles once or twice and gives up squinting them into submission. They could tell her parents, but she hoped they didn’t. Walking up the stairs, her eyes unconsciously stray to the framed art decorating the otherwise plain walls. It was all very gold and white, very royal. 

Turning her attention back to Jojen, she hops up the last few steps and grins. “I don’t think a tour is too wise." she says lightly. We might bump into people. “But, this is my room." She opens the door (white, just white without her lilac flowers. She hates it.) and nervously scruffs her feet against the carpeted floor. I hope I’m not being too showy, she thinks.

[jojenread-blog]

Jojen ducks his head at the guard as the slip past, figuring a slight gesture is enough manners to keep the guard from being suspicious. He feels like this should be in a James Bond movie - not his actual life. Well, a voice chides, that's what you get for lying with lions. The voice sounds oddly like Bran Stark. A sudden saddness pangs Jojen's chest when he thinks about Bran, stuck on the other side of the border, alone and broken. He knows he shouldn't feel guilty for having fun without Bran, but he does. The guilt sits like a stone in his chest, a constant weight, but not large enough that he can't ignore. 

Shireen leads him up stairs, tugging on his hand. Jojen measures his pace, making sure they're not going too fast. He doesn't know what is wrong with Shireen, exactly - but knows enough. Jojen doesn't need a name for the illness and if he knew he wouldn't want to know it. Shireen is sick and Jojen must mind that, but that doesn't mean he wants to know everything. The less he knows, the less real it is. 

(Shireen's not family; but Tommen loves her and Jojen had grown fond of her of his own accord as well. She's older than him, but he still sees her like a little sister, meant to be doted on and spoiled - loved.)

When she asks him what is the bag, Jojen grins and puts a finger to his lips. "Shh - it's secret," he teases. Actually, it's that he doesn't know if it's safe to say he brought her wine. (And the tarot cards - he knows that his paranoia is silly; he won't be burned at the stake for witchcraft, nothing drastic will happen - but there is a deep-rooted secrecy about the cards, about what his mother taught Jojen and Meera when they were small.)

She opens the door to her room. It's very regal - all white and gold trim, not unlike a bed chamber out of a fairy tale. She says that they'll have to forgo the tour and it's no joy lost on Jojen's part. He smiles. "Probably a safe idea," he agrees, not wanting to get Shireen in trouble. Jojen follows Shireen's gaze to the art on the walls and looks at the pieces with her for a moment before setting down his bag and pulling out the DVDs, along with some chocolate and the bottle of wine. "I bought treats," he says, grinning. 

[jojenread-blog]

✆ phone call: fishing for the answer with a line and sinker [closed: bran and jojen] [august 13th, afternoon]

[Jojen's been turning over what Meera said to him about Bran's phone call. His sister has always been there for him--always stood up for Jojen when he'd been hurt, had always chased down schoolyard bullies, she'd helped him any way she could. And it wasn't just Meera who was protective of Jojen--he would die for his sister. And right now, Jojen had too much on his mind to stay quiet. He rings up Bran.] 

Hey mate. [He thinks about Meera, curled up on the couch, phone pressed against her cheek. Jojen thinks about how sad she had looked, how her face fell when he'd asked her what happened. Bran was their friend, he wasn't supposed to make Meera cry.]

[jojenread-blog]

sorry about the blood in your mouth [closed to meera] [september 24th, late night]

[mreeds]

Meera is snuggled warm in her bed, asleep but not dreaming, when she feels the world shift and shudder underneath her. She wakes with a start, nearly jumping out of her skin, her heart pounding at the sudden interruption to her dead sleep. She blearily opens her eyes in the total blackness of her bedroom and tries to squint through it to see what’s going on, but it isn’t necessary.

Jojen says her name from where he’s crawled into her bed and she rolls over to envelope him in a hug. She wraps her arms around his cold, shaking form and sighs, rubbing his back and murmuring nonsense that can’t even qualify as words. She’s still half asleep but her brother is shaking in her bed, sweating; Meera knows enough about Jojen to know that he’s had another nightmare. They’re few and far between, anymore, but when they happen, they’re intense. She kisses his hair and keeps him close, waiting for the worst of the shaking to slow down.

“Hey,” she says softly, voice hoarse with sleep. Meera swallows and tries again. “What’s wrong, Jojo?”

[jojenread-blog]

Normally Jojen would wince at the nickname, hush his older sister with a glare but tonight he's not himself, feeling thin and small and his hair is curling with sweat, sticking to the back of his neck. He burrows himself under Meera's bed covers, glad she's not sharing her bed with someone else tonight--he doesn't know what he would do if Meera wasn't with him. He's always been an odd child, green eyes too big for his thin face and dreams that would plague his nights.

The dreams have spread out much further over the last two years, but each one is still incredibly vivid. Their mam says it's because he's always hovered a little closer to the veil than most people. Jojen, over the years, hasn't ever fully believed the theory, but he knows his dreams come from something greater than himself. 

Meera presses a kiss to the top of Jojen's head and he presses his chin into her shoulder, lets her hold him until he's stopped shaking. This is the first time he's had a dream like this since leaving Scotland--one so bad he feels lightheaded after, his bones like liquid and not in the way Tommen makes him feel--this is a different kind of weakness in his marrow. "I had a dream about a wolf," he says finally, when his voice has returned him, thick and cottony.  

[jojenread-blog]

keep your head up, keep your heart strong [closed: meera and jojen] [august 13th]

[mreeds]

Meera leans in and wraps her arms around Jojen’s neck, clinging despite the awkwardness of the position. They’re on par with each other in height, but like this, he’s inches shorter than her. She feels like she’s going to topple off the couch at any moment, but she holds on tight, eyes closed and breathing staggered.

Jojen holds her and she buries her face in his shoulder for a long moment, just breathing, trying not to shake for how badly she feels about everything that’s happened. For all intents and purposes, she and Jojen should be in Scotland right now. They should be with Bran, spending time together and ignoring the news because all that’s ever in the headlines is bad news. But instead they’re here, and that isn’t all bad. Meera looks forward to starting uni next month and Jojen has Tommen and his internship. But the border is closed and they can’t go home, and that feels a bit like being trapped. Meera hates the feeling of being trapped; it’s why she wanted to leave home in the first place.

“I think he’s mad at us,” she says softly. She pulls back and sits up, smiling sadly at her little brother. “Come up here; the floor can’t be comfortable on your knees, bony little grandfather.” She pats the cushion next to her and leans back, pushing her hair out of her face. “He’s worried, I know. The city is dangerous, especially now, but… that’s not exclusive to London.” Meera frowns deeply and shakes her head. She doesn’t want to linger; she needs to be stronger than that.

Her voice is stronger when she speaks next, but she knows Jojen will still question her. Meera silently resolves not to give into the concern, as much as she might want to. “I need a shower. And breakfast. Do you want to go out somewhere? I’m in the mood for something unhealthy and maybe a bit greasy. Plus, I think you have something to tell me.” She nudges him with her elbow, playful. She hopes it’s enough.

[jojenread-blog]

Jojen sighs and lets his sister half pull him up onto the sofa next to her. He slips an arm around her and tucks his head on her shoulder. Meera's body is warm and solid against his and he knows she'll be okay despite all of this--knows the bruises under her eyes were just the sign of a bad night not several. But it's difficult to know that this is a hurt he cannot fix; Bran's absence and their presence in London is a wound that stretches across the three of them and Jojen doesn't have the thread to stitch them back together.

He takes a deep breath and noses at Meera's chin like he's five years old again and they're listening to their father read them The Hobbit. "It's not fair of him to take his worry out on you like that though," Jojen says after a long silence, the set of his jaw stubborn. "We're worried too, but we don't make him feel like crap for leaving." Jojen's insides hurt like they do when he's alone and thinking about how he'd never even properly gotten to say goodbye to his friend. The hurt is raw inside him, but Jojen pushes the thought away. It's not his time to think about these things. This is about Meera.

Meera changes the topic easily and Jojen knows she's only able to do that when she's trying to hide something. He wants to ask her more--to ask her about what Bran had said. But he doesn't. "D'ya want to go The Diner?" he asks, the local place has greasy enough food and is open odd enough hours that it's quickly become both one of his and Meera's favorite haunt. 

He ducks his head and puts his hands in his lap when Meera nudges him, grinning wickedly. He can feel the heat rush to his cheeks and Jojen can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth as the thinks about last night. He closes his eyes and tries to dispel the memories before he remembers too much. "It's nothing," he says, mumbling. 

[t-baratheons]

in the light of the morning [closed: tommen and jojen] [august 29]

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[jojenread-blog]

Jojen's blush deepens and he wishes he had a place to bury his head but all that exists around him is Tommen's body, lean, languid and gold. He ducks his head and the hand he has curled around Tommen's thigh gives a gentle squeeze. I’ve thought about it the other way ‘round rings in his ears--he's never thought of Tommen inside him and it sends him reeling for a moment that seems to stretch longer than it should. He's wanked enough to thoughts of being inside Tommen--of fucking him, but not himself being fucked. It makes his insides twist. 

"Is that... the way you want it?" Jojen asks. He's thrown by it all and the feeling is too complex--something deep, nestled within him that doesn't make sense. But he doesn't want to do something wrong; he wants to please Tommen.

[jojenread-blog]

sorry about the blood in your mouth [closed to meera] [september 24th, late night]

In Jojen's dream a wolf is surrounded by darkness. The wolf pads through a forest, unknowing of the spectres that follow it. A silver snake hangs down from a tree as the wolf runs past, hunting its prey--single-minded and oblivious. The shadows that follow it whisper and Jojen cannot decipher what they say. They speak in a foreign tongue, old and ancient. 

The wolf comes to a clearing and that is when the dark ghosts descend upon it. Jojen cries out when he sees one of the specters cut at the wolf's skin, the flash of the silver night in the moonlight and the metallic taste of black blood sharp in Jojen's mouth. He sees the silver snake lash out at the wolf again, fangs glittering in the pale light. Jojen yells as the wolf howls, falling to the ground. The dark, blackness descend upon the wolf, smothering it. 

Jojen wakes with a cry, feeling out of breath. The sheets cling to him, damp with sweat. "Meera," he tries to say but his mouth is cottony and he can still taste the pang of blood. He presses the pads of his fingers to his lip to find he's bitten it raw. 

[jojenread-blog]

we're only young once. [closed to bran] [january, 2012]

[bransstarked]

Jojen calls him scared and he laughs, grabbing a thick branch with his hands and letting himself dangle, feet off the limbs. “No, I can outrun you any way.” Fine, let Jojen be that way. Bran drops back down onto the larger limb below him and sees snow on a nearby branch.

“If I come down, you have to let that snowball you’ve got in your hand go.” Ultimatum, but for Bran it’s go time. He watches Jojen from above, the branches shielding him for the most part. Bran gathers snow in his hands, compressing it into a dense ball. “So what will it be, Percival?” He laughs, having no longer name than Jojen, Bran usually falls back on his friend’s middle name.

The boy in the tree doesn’t wait that long, and soon he leans out, clearing a shot and lets the snowball fly, using the distraction to jump down out of the tree. His boots land with a thud, and he quickly gathers another snowball in his hands.

[jojenread-blog]

He winces when Bran opts to call him his middle name--he's been teased enough for it by schoolyard pricks and he knows there's no true malice behind Bran's words but the association stings. Bran offers him a choice and Jojen's jaw sets. He's not about to drop his only weapon just so that he and Bran are "even". But if Bran does drop down, then he wouldn't have a snowball either, would he?

Jojen doesn't get a chance to contemplate further because in the next moment, Bran is hurling a snowball at Jojen. He ducks, thankful that Bran's height in the tree has thrown off his aim ever so slightly but he still manages to drop his snowball in the rush to avoid Bran's neatly packed one, whizzing past his ear. Well fuck, Jojen thinks when he hears the solid thud of Bran landing on the ground before him. 

Jojen uses the momentum of turning to avoid Bran's throw to turn and run further into the woods. He might be small, but he is fast, at least. He gets a few paces ahead of Bran and scoops snow into his palm, packing it as quickly as he can before tossing it back at the boy who is running towards him.

[jojenread-blog]

✉ → text → bran [sept 17]

[bransstarked]

message: so you complaining about school wasn’t really complaining

message: school’s just started it cant be ‘fucked’ yet message: im glad she’s adjusting nicely

[jojenread-blog]

it's always been fucked. no one listens to a thing i say because to them i'm still the kid that played silent go fish.

[jojenread-blog]

✉ → text → bran [sept 17]

[bransstarked]

message: yeah im alright message: actually it’s sort of the same if you can believe it  message: what about you

[jojenread-blog]

s'all right. schools fucked but everything else is ok

[a minute later] meera's pretty good. she's got a couple girls she's close with who make her happy

[a minute later] so i can't complain. everyone's happy i'm happy

[jojenread-blog]

✉ → text → bran [sept 17]

[bransstarked]

message: nothing’s fair any more

[jojenread-blog]

are you alright? things must be pretty weird at yours :/

[jojenread-blog]

✉ → text → bran [sept 17]

[bransstarked]

message: there are just things i guess we have to do

message [canceled]: then you should’ve come back when you could

message: me too, except that part about home because you know, im already home

[jojenread-blog]

but when am i even going to use have this shit

[a moment later] it's not even like i'm in proper classes fuck

[another moment later] it's not fucking fair i didn't want to have to chose your brother got to go home fuck but tommen i just 

[a minute later] it's not fair.

[t-baratheons]

in the light of the morning [closed: tommen and jojen] [august 29]

[t-baratheons]

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[jojenread-blog]

He feels very, very nervous. "I've been thinking about being inside you," he says finally, his voice ghostly quiet and a blush creeping up his cheeks. (He'd stopped at an ASDA after the first time, that time in Margy's flat and he'd never thought about lube or condoms until then, but now--he's regretting it. Tommen's silence makes his stomach do backflips.)

[jojenread-blog]

✉ → text → bran [sept 17]

school is absolute bloody shit. why do we have to do this?

[a moment later] i miss you ugh i miss home

[jojenread-blog]

keep your head up, keep your heart strong [closed: meera and jojen] [august 13th]

[mreeds]

He tells her she looks exhausted and takes her hand, finger tracing her heartline. Meera presses her eyes closed for a long moment, breathing, knowing that he’ll probably check her pulse next and then ask if she needs water or coffee or bread. She always sleeps in a bed. Jojen knows that.

“Fell asleep here,” she murmurs, furrowing her brow. Something is digging into her hip. Meera shifts, letting go of her brother’s hand to reach for it. Her hand wraps around her cell phone — dead, now, probably from being slept on — and her heart sinks like a stone. She remembers last night with crystal clarity, her grogginess all but gone in the recollection.

Meera meets Jojen’s eyes and frowns. “I called Bran and needed a cigarette, so I came out here.” She drops her phone on the floor, uncaring, and scrubs her palms over her eyes once more. They feel puffy and raw, sore from crying and not enough sleep. “Fuck,” she whispers, swallowing around the lump lodged in her throat.

[jojenread-blog]

He can hear the tears in her voice, thick and unswallowed. "Hey," he murmurs and runs his hands through her hair. "Hey." Jojen knocks their noses together and his stomach flips with unease but Meera's his first priority. "What happened?" he asks, quiet. Jojen cups his big sister's chin in his hand and sees her eyes shine and his heart breaks. Meera's hardly ever like this but since the border closed, since Bran went home, she's receded further and further into herself; the air around her growing quieter and sadder. 

Jojen lets out a deep breath. "I miss him too," he says after a long while. And he does. His best friend is so fucking far away and his boyfriend's world is growing smaller and smaller every day while his sister's frowns grow deeper and Jojen feels like he can't stretch himself enough to shield everyone from the rain. 

"Oh Meer," he murmurs and lets her hang half off the couch and half in his arms. He can hold Meera and try to make her feel better, he has control over this and he needs to do this.