brokenbutneverdefeated:
How did he even begin to explain to Rhys everything that happened since he’d left? Did he even want to was really the better question. Couldn’t they just get wasted and fuck like they used to and pretend like there wasn’t this weird distance between them now all because he’d been stupid enough to believe he could do something to help his sisters? He didn’t want to talk to Rhys about it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. He supposed if there was anyone he would want to discuss it with, it would be Rhys, but he didn’t want this to turn into a let’s all pity Jack moment. He wanted this to be about them. Or maybe he just wanted everything to somehow go back in time to before he’d left. Was there a them? Did he want to be with Rhys? He wasn’t really sure of anything anymore other than knowing that he was now completely separated from anyone he used to call family and he was glad to see the man now sitting in front of him. “Yeah…” Was all he could say as he stared into his glass and absentmindedly swirled the liquid inside. This was the first time in a while he’d talked to anyone about his sisters and before he’d cut off the conversation before he had to give any reasoning for what had happened.
Finally he was drawn away from his thoughts by Rhys’s voice and he tried to shovel the brain weasels down and focus on the other. He put on a forced smile and laughed at the joke even though he didn’t get the reference. “Uh… ‘m jus’ ‘appy ta see ya mate,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle eyes finally moving to take the other in. Jack had missed that face so very much. So much so that seeing Rhys now actually pained him. It was almost easier thinking he’d never see his lover again. What happened after this? He had to be reminded all over again what a mistake he’d made and Rhys would go off to do whatever it was Rhys was doing now. Maybe it would have been better if Rhys hadn’t texted him. He never would have known and they could have gone on with their lives.
He found himself studying the face he knew so well, picking up new lines etched on the surface, and recognizing familiar ones. Those piercing eyes and how they used to look at him. His plump lips and what they tasted liked. Eventually he realized he was staring and shook himself out of it, leaning back awkwardly and sighing before taking up the shot glass. “Friends!” He announced lifting it up and then suddenly feeling like perhaps that wasn’t the right word to describe them his face fell. “O’… uh… I don’ know, can we just take it?” He asked dejectedly looking at Rhys with pleading eyes.
Jack didn’t need to say what he was thinking because Rhys had been there about a thousand times before. With Joe. With Felix. With everyone who’s ever came and left from his life. It wasn’t the first time someone looked at him like that and for so long, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. He couldn’t help but steal glances at Jack, too. They were at a point now where too much time had passed and there wasn’t enough between them to work through the awkwardness. All he could do was pretend like he didn’t notice, or care, and carry on until it was time to say goodbye. Perhaps for the last time, perhaps not--time would tell. He cleared his throat and nodded. They didn’t have to toast to shit, just drink the liquor and let it numb them.
One shot down, Rhys flagged down a waiter and ordered some more. He’d need to get pretty fucked up if he was going to work through this shit. “Changing subject. Since you wont tell me about you. I’ll talk about me.” Beer sipped, he smiled. “Apparently, being old and a drunk and an addict makes it so you can’t participate in MMA anymore. Who knew? So I gave that up. Now I teach it full time. And when I’m not doing that, I’m playing foster dad to homeless animals. So my house is literally a zoo. And when I’m not chasing pretty boys in London pubs, I’m taking pictures of cities and landscapes for a magazine my cousin is starting. Nothing spectacular or amazing, but, my life isn’t the complete train wreck you remember it to be. I think I have you to thank for a lot of that. In a way.”
The shots were placed at the table and not a moment too soon. Rhys drank three of them back to back and motioned for the staff to keep them coming. If his memory served him correctly, Jack could hold his own. That was half of what they did together. “So, what’s new with you? Feel like sharing anything? Or are you gonna’ be a lump on the log the whole time? Am I getting you at a bad time? Should I maybe have skipped London? Regret answering my text?”









