TAGS : jack willis x male reader, childhood best friends, reader is kind of ruby but ruby is also here, reader is implied to be a pilot, experimenting with sexuality, relationship never established
WARNINGS : none
You could hear him bashing around the main room of the dinner, could hear him looking for you left and right. Checking under tables, behind doors you'd hidden near before. Behind the counter, in the pantry-
He let out what could've almost been a roar as he tore open the supply closet, and you burst out laughing, making a run for it.
“You mad bugger!” He yelled out after you, nearly slipping as he gave chase.
You leapt over the counter, Suze and Ruby completely indifferent to you and Jack's antics. You'd both been like this since you were little boys- the only thing that had changed was that you'd gotten bigger, stronger and rougher.
You heard Jack curse as he whacked his head on some hanging pans on his way over the counter, the comedic image forming in your mind nearly giving you pause. But this was life and death, really- you stop moving, you lose.
Now came the stalemate. You were both on either side of the pool table, hands braced on it, ready to use it as leverage.
“You keep ruinin’ my bloody paint job!” He said, the big grin on his face betraying how fake his anger was.
“Get some better paint, Willis- or quit drivin’ through my fields!”
With a sudden surge of renewed energy, he lunged at you over the pool table, sending you both careening into a trolley stacked with plates.
“Boys!” Suze finally had enough. “Outside!”
You were both barely listening, rolling around on the floor, trying to get a better grip on one another. It's ultimately Jack that succeeds, pinning you face down with your arms behind your back.
“Let me go!” You squeezed out, wriggling around as he lifted you up onto your feet, marching you out of the dinner. “Willis- don't you dare-!”
But he wasn't stopping, and by the time you were in any position to wiggle your way out, he had you balanced on the edge of the water tank. Jack stared at you for a long moment, holding you right over the edge of the water. He didn't say anything. You didn't either, for a moment, just panting and wishing you could wipe the sweat dripping from your brow.
“You're never gonna do that again, ya hear?” He told you, squeezing you tighter at the biceps, his grip nearly slipping.
“Course I won't.” He began pulling you back up… “Unless I catch ya drivin’ through my fields."
SPLASH! He let you go the moment you just had to open your mouth, and you shot out of the water sputtering and choking, dripping in water from head to toe.
“Bastard!” You yelled after him, as he ran off towards his truck like a child who just pulled off a mean trick, a big smile on his face.
You heaved yourself out of the tank, dripping water all over the dry outback ground. You and Jack had been in a playful mood recently- Hamish and Ruby were getting married, and you'd both made it your mission to make as much trouble as possible leading up to the wedding. Because seeing them both laugh at your antics was always worth it- and besides, once they'd be married, they were moving away. Had to make it last while you could.
You pulled your tank top off and wrung it out, following Jack's run up to his truck, leaving a trail of splattered water.
“Ay! Get out of my truck!” He pestered you, beating you with his hat. “Gettin’ water all over everything!”
You crawled over the console and fell over into the little space he'd turned into his home, yanking off your boots and socks and the jumpsuit you'd folded down and turned into pants, til you were down to your boxers.
“Should've thought of that before sendin’ me off for a dip, mate.” You teased back, starting to dig through his pile of clothes to pick out a change of outfits.
You'd known Jack practically since you'd been born. They might as well have put the both of you in the same crib at the hospital, that's how long it'd been- and never, not once, did you stray away from one another. Not over a girl, not over friends. Nothing could ever pull you apart.
You fished out a pair of Jack's boxers, then a pair of shorts, and got changed right then and there. Hey, you'd seen each other naked a million times. After a certain point, it didn't matter anymore.
“How's your book goin’?” You called out as you wriggled your way into a pair of pants that were the most likely to fit you- sometimes you wondered if Jack kept old clothes if only for you to change into them, whether they fit him anymore or not.
“Goin’ just fine, thank ya.” Jack replied, jotting down a sentence on his propped up clipboard.
“You gon’ let me read it?” Your question came as you crawled your way back into the passengers seat, kicking your feet up on his dash.
“You'll get to read it when I die, mate. I'll leave it for ya in the will.”
You snorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you settled into the seat more comfortably.
“Fine, then.”
Jack had never meant for you to find out about his book. He'd never meant for anyone to find out, really. You'd already known too much in the first place, known his makeshift bed was piled with books and that he spent every minute he wasn't driving buried in a different novel. He was a trucker, for God's sake, he didn't look like a bookworm! But not only was he that, he was an author, too. Best selling, by the look of the fat check he'd gotten in the mail a few weeks back.
You'd found out he was writing when he'd asked you to go put Lance in the truck for the night, forgetting he'd left the pages strewn out all over his dashboard. You'd read one before realizing that it was Jack's writing, and that it wasn't some sort of diary or notebook, but a real novel he'd been writing.
You'd always remember the way his face went from pale, to bright red, to nearly purple in shock when you'd asked him about it. He for sure thought you'd laugh him to his grave, but you were surprisingly enthusiastic about his book, and supporting of his writing. Not that you didn't poke fun- you definitely poked fun, especially when you caught him writing raunchier scenes. But Jack was your closest friend, and you'd never bully him out of his passions.
“What are they doing now?” You asked, watching him scribble down dialogue with his tongue between his teeth.
While you didn't quite understand Jack's passionate writing style and how important and supposedly emotionally deep writing was for him, you still tried to make sure he knew you were interested in his interests. A bit like watching birds with a cat to ensure it didn't feel left out. You hadn't a clue what the hell was going on in Jack's book, or why sometimes he couldn't explain to you why or what he was writing, but you tried your very hardest to.
“They've just left an event.” Jack informed you. “They're in the back of a limo, now.”
“They gonna shag?” You asked, curiously peeking at his paper, which he stubbornly shielded from view.
“Ay, you got a real way of suckin’ the romance from the moment, doncha?” Jack joked back, raising an eyebrow and giving you a crooked grin.
“Just tell me!” You shoved at his shoulder. You couldn't read the book, but you sure as hell could ask what the story was.
“Fine. Nah, not really- well, ya know, they're gon’ be kissin’ and all- but then Ryan-” The main character you'd thought had died 3 chapters back- Jack must've scrapped that and started over, like he does so often. “he's gonna find a weapon concealed on her.”
“Really? Was she trying to kill him?”
“I told you this, didn't I? So she's a spy, right…”
You reached into the back for Jack's cooler, grabbing for a drink while nodding along to his resume of his story that he must've told you and changed a million times.
You remembered the first iteration, which he'd been reluctant to tell you, of a wild pilot woman with short cut hair, wearing pants and getting mistaken for a man in the 50s, along with the main character Ryan, a retired soldier and truck driver who falls in love with her despite her unconventional looks. You'd laughed at him and told him that just sounded like the story of his life, just that he'd turned his best mate into a lass. He then changed it to Ryan and a cowgirl, and now, Ryan as a rich business man- who owns a truck company- and a spy. You mocked him for never being able to let go of the trucker thing.
By the time he was done telling you all the revisions he'd made, the sun had dropped to the horizon.
It was Hamish's bachelors party tonight- of course, you and Jack were expected to be there, the life of the party. You honestly couldn't tell what the hell was going on, but you sure were enjoying it. Nicely dressed gals? Drinks for days? Hamish slipping off a table and hitting his head?
Talk about your kind of party.
You stuck by Jack, as you always did, and spent the night laughing and making fun of your mates with him. By four in the morning, you were back in his truck, after (more or less attempting the feat of) getting Hamish home. Now that you think about it, you weren't too sure if he ever made it into his house- but hey, he got close enough. He'll survive.
“You ever gonna get married, Jack?” You asked him, slumped at his side in his little sleeping nook, with a bottle of beer balanced on your belt buckle.
Jack chuckled, but didn't answer. You smiled slightly, staring at the bottle of beer, the cold glass touching your skin and the condensation dripping onto your flesh keeping you awake.
“Yeah…s'ppose blokes like us never do.”
“Nope. Too busy movin’.” He agreed.
He took a drink from his beer, and you looked over at him.
“You never do tell me ‘bout girls you meet, now that I think of it. Guess I never ask, either, but…” You told him, the realization coming to you as you watched him tilt his head back, finishing his drink, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Nope. Don't got much to say, that's why. What, d'you think I'm pickin' up a new lass at every truck stop?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Can't imagine that from mister romantic, no.”
There was a long pause. You were thinking, and so was he- but after a moment, you managed a dumb question.
“What about blokes?”
“Huh?”
“Just…what about blokes? At the truck stops?”
“Are you askin’ if I'm sleeping with men?”
He didn't seem offended, nor surprised- if anything, he seemed mildly hesitant. Which Jack only ever did when he was about to get caught in a lie. You slumped a little further, fingers wrapping around the neck of your bottle.
“Nah, not that far…just…blokes. Have you ever thought about it? You never see it, out here. Do ya think anyones tried it before?” You asked him, staring straight ahead at the wall.
“Well…I'm sure, yeah. I think Hamish's dad was in the Navy.”
“The Navy?”
“Yeah. You know what they say about the Navy.” Jack looked over at you. You nodded pensively.
“Yeah…we should ask ‘im.”
Another pause, and you took a sip of your beer. “D'you reckon it feels the same as with a lass?”
“Well, clearly not. Not the same equipment.” Jack replied, matter-of-factly, as if the question was stupid.
“Not sex, you bloody pervert. Kissing.” You laughed, shoving his shoulder. He grinned sheepishly.
“Ah, well, I reckon it can't be too different. Then again, who'd want to try it? No point.”
“Yeah, yeah…you're right…” You agreed, nodding along. “It's like somethin’ you find out on accident, innit.”
“Sure…lest yer doin’ like, a scientific experiment.”
“Nothin’ scientific about a kiss, Jack.”
You both returned to your pensive silence, staring at the wall. You finished up your drink and Jack simply remained in his thoughts, as though mulling over the conversation you'd just had. You were thinking about it too- an experiment, ey? You couldn't say you weren't curious. Isn't it one of those things you have to try at least once in your life? You kinda got to know what kissing a bloke is like. How else are you meant to know what those gay people are on, if you don't?
You turned your head, and found Jack already looking at you.
“Experiment, huh?” You repeated his words.
He nodded a little. “Can't hurt.”
It felt like an eternity that you just stared at each other like that, thinking about how stupid this was. Wondering why you could feel your heart in your throat or why you had this sinking feeling of dread and excitement mixing and swirling together in your stomach.
Jack leaned closer first. Your eyes immediately dropped, and you didn't know if you were looking at his lips or just avoiding his eyes…soon, his head tilted, and you mirrored the movement. When your lips met, it was just a small brush- barely there- Hesitant. But then, his hand braced next to you, and he pressed further into it. You reciprocated. Before either of you knew what you'd done, your lips parted against each other, like a real god damn kiss, not just two boys playing at scientists.
Finally you pulled back, and it was damn near reluctant. You hadn't realized that your chest was heaving, that your breath was short- like you'd enjoyed it, like it'd been more than a game. You shook yourself out of it.
“Feels the same.” You blurted out, first to break the silence.
Jack just nodded in agreement.
Neither of you spoke again for the rest of the night.
thank u for reading, likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated
BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out! 🥰
Awww. Thank you so much. Since I'm new here, and people I already know got the same award too, so instead have these lovely outtakes from Paperback Hero early!
Paperback Hero (1999) - Outtakes (1/2)
