sillygooseness - Tumblr blog

sillygooseness · 3 months

Text

You Give Me Something To Hold Onto

My greatest pride and joy is finally finished after like a year in my drafts!

Trigger warnings: Alcoholism, Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Relapse,,,, yeah lister relapses :( but it's okay! because it's part of the journey :)

Title is from the song High On You by Sam Fischer and Amy Shark

Jimmy is startled awake by the sudden motion of Lister jolting across the bed, frantically tearing the duvet off of his sweat soaked body in a panic. Jimmy knows exactly what is happening before the sleepy fog clears from his head.

“There’s a bin by your head,” Jimmy croaks, as he hurries to be by his boyfriend’s side. He’s gotten over just in time to grab Lister’s lengthy light brown hair as he doubles over the bin. One hand is pushing the fringe from his forehead, the other holding the long strands behind his neck, letting his nails move soothingly along his skin. They’re both sitting on the side of the bed, Lister clutching the bin like his life depends on it as all of the alcohol and regret comes back up.

“Let it out, you’re okay.” Jimmy moves his hand from his neck down to rub comforting circles on his back.

As Jimmy continues to hold him, the memories of yesterday come flooding back to him. The panic he and Rowan had felt to their core when Lister had disappeared from the flat, and the jumble of despair and relief that washed over them when they realized Lister had forgotten to turn his phone’s location off so that they quickly saw that he was at the club across town. His old favorite. And they were very much too late. Retrieving him and dragging his severely intoxicated body back home was still a blur, which is probably for the best. Jimmy doesn’t want to relive that anxiety.

The sound of Lister dry heaving into the trash bin pulls Jimmy right back into the present moment. He’s groaning as his abdomen continues to spasm.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Lister moans repetitively as his muscles begin to calm. He can’t stand the stench as he hovers his face over the bin, but he’s too ashamed of himself to bring his head up to face his boyfriend. He’s let him down, and he doesn’t deserve this care he’s receiving from him.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Jimmy repeats.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be silly, Lis.”

Jimmy pulls Lister’s head up by his cheeks and grabs a tissue from the bedside table to dab at the corners of his mouth, then the sweat from his forehead before kissing him there.

Lister can’t meet Jimmy’s eyes.

“I feel like shit.” A tear falls down Lister’s cheek that seems to open a floodgate as his eyes squint shut and more come pouring down, all of which Jimmy wipes away with his thumbs. “And I’m really dizzy.”

“Here, drink some more water.” Jimmy reaches a hand over to the bedside table to grab the glass he’d left there a few hours before. Lister drinks it all very slowly before shifting back into Jimmy’s embrace.

“Let’s get your teeth brushed and go back to bed. It’s still dark.” Lister nods at this.

Jimmy stands up first, grabbing Lister by his hands and pulling him up with him. He wraps his arms around the taller boy’s waist, walking him to the bathroom. When he turns the bathroom light on, Lister winces, so he turns it back off and sets up his phone’s torch on the counter instead. Jimmy watches him from the door. He finds it hard to keep his eyes open as he leans against the doorframe, and the yawn he finally lets out makes Lister feel even more guilty for causing his boyfriend to be up at this hour.

Lister dares a glance at the shadow of his own reflection, but he can’t stand to look at the ghost in front of him. He barely gets a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes and the emptiness behind his gaze before quickly diverting his focus back down to the sink as he finishes brushing his teeth. Jimmy notices and spreads his arms wide, eyes still half closed, and opens and closes his palms to gesture for Lister to join his embrace. Of course he obliges, and Jimmy raises to his tiptoes so that he can easily wrap his arms around the taller boy’s shoulders, letting their cheeks brush lightly before burying his head in his boyfriend’s neck. They stand in the doorway holding each other for a long moment, reveling in the safety of their warm embrace that keeps the both of them still before the chaos they both know will ensue tomorrow. Finally, Jimmy begins to walk them back to bed. Once his boyfriend is under the covers, Jimmy grabs the empty cup on the nightstand and the trash bin before disappearing out the door.

When he reappears with an empty trash bin and full glass of water, Jimmy finds Lister curled up in a ball under the sheets. He crawls in behind him and curls his arm over his abdomen to hold him close. Lister clutches Jimmy’s arm to his chest as if it is his only anchor to reality, so Jimmy pulls him even closer against his chest. Even though Lister is bigger than him, he loves being the big spoon sometimes. It makes him feel like Lister’s protector, especially in this moment.

“Do you hate me now?” Lister asks in the smallest voice he’s ever heard.

Jimmy could cry right there. After everything they’ve been through together, it baffles Jimmy that Lister could still think that’s plausible. “Of course I don’t, darling. I love you. I knew exactly what I signed up for when we started dating.”

“I know I just-“

“Do you stop loving me when I have panic attacks?” Jimmy interrupts. He doesn’t know where Lister is going with that sentence, but he knows his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

“Of course I don’t.”

“There you are then.” Jimmy states, as if his point is that simple.

“It’s not the same,” Lister insists, still mildly confused about how his incessant alcoholism equates to Jimmy’s panic disorder.

“How is it not the same? You love me through all my anxiety and dysphoria. I love you through your addiction, when you’re sober and when you relapse. We both deal with each other’s shit, that’s the deal.”

“I guess,” Lister sighs as Jimmy kisses the back of his shoulder. “Rowan is mad at me though.”

“Rowan isn’t mad.”

“Yes he is.”

Jimmy begins to move his fingers that are splayed out on Lister’s chest in a soothing motion across his skin. He still can’t really move the rest of his hand because of how tightly it’s being held. That’s fine by him, though.

“I promise you that he’s not. We were both just worried, that’s all. We want you to be safe,” Jimmy squeezes him impossibly tighter against his chest, hoping that Lister can feel his sincerity through his tight hold.

Lister just hums in response and settles himself further into Jimmy’s embrace. Of course he doesn’t believe him, but they could go back and forth until the sun cracks, so he stays quiet.

They don’t say anything more after that, and Lister can tell that Jimmy has fallen back asleep when his fingers cease their movements on his chest, and he feels Jimmy’s breath slow down against the back of his neck. He is grateful for his dizziness for the moment because if it weren’t for the spinning room rocking him to sleep, he’s sure all of the self-deprecating thoughts echoing around his head would keep him up for at least three days.

—-

Jimmy is the first to wake back up a few hours later. They’ve both shifted from their original positions, so he turns onto his side to make sure his boyfriend is still sleeping, and frankly, still breathing. He’s relieved to see his chest subtly moving up and down. Tears prick at his eyes as he stares at his boyfriend’s face, reliving the relief at knowing he is safe. Jimmy finds himself worried most of the time, but nothing compared to the distress of not knowing if his boyfriend was safe. Or even alive. Again. He wants to reach out towards his face and just hold him, relish in the feeling of his chest expanding against his, but he knows better than to wake him up. He knows that as soon as Lister wakes up, he’ll be miserable. Not just physically, but he will also be beating himself up for relapsing. This isn’t the first time this has happened since he first decided to get sober, but it is the first time they are going through it as a couple. Jimmy doesn’t think this adds to the stress of the situation, as he’s always loved Lister and cared deeply about his well-being. That feeling just takes up a different space now. And now, he can hold Lister through his hangover, kiss him, tell him he loves him through it all.

He hasn’t always been good at comforting others during stressful times, but his confidence has grown with Lister. Lister is actually pretty easy. He just needs lots and lots of words of affirmation, as well as lots of cuddles. So that is fully how Jimmy intends to spend their day.

Jimmy is pulled from his train of thought when he notices Lister starting to wake up. Even though the boy’s eyes are still closed, his face twists, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re okay,” Jimmy whispers, finally reaching his hand forward and stroking Lister’s cheek. Lister immediately moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with Jimmy’s and keeps the back of his palm against his cheek. Jimmy’s touch on his face is the only thing that feels good right now.

“I don’t feel okay.”

“What hurts?”

“My head. And my stomach.” Jimmy tries to pull his hand away, but Lister keeps it pressed to his face.

“I’m just grabbing your water and painkillers.”

Lister sighs and lets him go, pulling the sheets up to cover his face. “Can you close the curtains, too, please? It’s too bright.”

Jimmy does just that and when he comes back over to the bed, he rests his hand on Lister’s back to support him into a sitting position.

“Open,” Jimmy instructs, tapping Lister’s chapped lips with his thumb. He complies, and Jimmy places the pill on his tongue then holds the water to his lips.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” After Jimmy kisses his forehead, Lister eases down so that he is laying on the bed with his head laying in Jimmy’s lap. They’re quiet for a while, Jimmy mindlessly playing with Lister’s hair, but he has so many questions. They have to talk about this.

“Lis,” he starts, and he feels his boyfriend tense in his lap. Maybe from the noise, but maybe because he can sense his serious tone. Jimmy adjusts his volume to a whisper when he continues, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He just shrugs in response.

“You’ve been so… off. Were you thinking about drinking that whole time? Or was it just impulsive?”

Another shrug.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“If you could tell something was wrong then you could have said something, too,” Lister finally grumbles.

“Would you actually have been honest with me if I had?”

Silence.

Jimmy audibly sighs and rethinks his strategy. This isn’t going anywhere.

Their relationship is not tumultuous by any means, but communication is still their biggest issue as a couple. Talks like this are still rare since they’d both rather internalize their feelings rather than expose their vulnerability, but now that it’s reached this point, this talk is inevitable. They’ve both been through enough therapy at this point that they both have the tools to have this conversation, so Jimmy is determined to get the truth out of his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Jimmy starts again. “I guess I wanted to think that you would work it out. Or maybe enough cuddles would make our problems go away.”

“If only,” Lister forces out a chuckle, but it quickly triggers the lump in his throat. He’s choking up, but doesn’t want to start crying again, so he starts talking instead. “I just felt so pathetic for even thinking about it after all this time. Like, I should be all fixed, but I’m still this mess. And I still get so worried that you’ll realize it and-”

“Lister, you’re not- I’m not-”

“But now I’ve made it worse,” he continues to ramble. And he has started to cry. Double whammy. “And now I have to start this whole fucking sobriety thing all over again, which honestly feels impossible. And I feel even more worthless.”

Jimmy lifts up Lister’s head so that he can shimmy down to lay in front of him on the bed. He grab’s Lister’s face in both of his hands again, letting his thumbs wipe away his tears in a way all too reminiscent of the way he did last night. Lister forces himself to look into Jimmy’s eyes, and when he does, Jimmy’s heart drops. He feels his own eyes well up again because of course they do. Jimmy is the one who cries all the time, not Lister, and seeing him so broken feels so very wrong.

“You are not worthless. None of this dictates your value as a human being. Doesn’t make you any less kind, or passionate, or brave, or completely lovable. It doesn’t take away your good heart.” He’s gripping Lister’s face firmly now, letting his fingers play with the hairs falling in front of his ears. Lister’s fingers are fidgeting with the hem of Jimmy’s shirt.

Lister shifts his eyes from Jimmy’s again. He knows Jimmy believes these things about him, but in moments like this it’s almost impossible to think of himself as anything more than terrible inside and out. Jimmy is not having this, though. He ducks his head down to force him to look into his wide eyes. Lister can’t really take the glare seriously though, because he can see right through Jimmy’s own red eyes swelling with tears. It makes him feel worse knowing that he’s in this state because of him. Those big brown eyes will always be Lister’s kryptonite.

“As for me; you know our deal. As soon as you stop trying, that’s when I tap out.”

Lister just nods.

“You have people in your life who want to support you. But you have to let us in so that we can do that.”

“So my therapist tells me,” Lister grumbles.

“When are you seeing her next?”

Lister sniffles while he tries to remember what day it even is today. “Um, in a couple days I think.”

“Good.”

Lister moves his forehead to rest against Jimmy’s. They just breathe together for a moment.

“I love you,” Jimmy breaks the silence once more before planting a firm kiss to his lips. Maybe his words are going in one ear and out the other, but he can show his boyfriend how wonderful he is through every spark in his touch. Through every kiss.

Jimmy only pulls away to place kisses on Lister’s cheek, then his forehead, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Usually when Jimmy does this, Lister’s face would scrunch up in a giggle. It may lead to a tickle fight, more teases, more kisses. Today is different; Lister feels much too nauseas, but the soft pressure on his face does make him forget about his pounding headache for just a moment.

“I love you so much,” Lister whispers as he leans into his boyfriend’s soft kisses, gently holding onto his biceps.

“You’d better.”

Lister smiles faintly because Jimmy isn’t usually one for sass. He moves his face ever so slightly so that the kiss meant for the side of his mouth lands right back on his lips, and both of them smile a little bit, before Lister sighs and buries his face in Jimmy’s neck.

“I’m really knackered today, Jim. Can I pick up with the trying tomorrow?” Lister groans, earning a slight chuckle.

Jimmy responds by planting a single kiss on Lister’s temple, making him scrunch his face up cutely. Jimmy holds his boyfriend gently, bringing his hand up to play with his hair again. There’s a lot left to unpack, but this will do for now. He hopes that Lister will be more honest with his therapist.

“The bin on your side of the bed is clean if you start to feel sick again,” Jimmy reminds Lister gently.

“I think I’m okay for now. Stay tuned, though.” His voice is muted against Jimmy’s skin, and he simply hums in response.

Moments like these are so gentle. Maybe because of how rare they are. If Jimmy is glad for one thing out of all this mess, it’s that this happened during a stretch of days where they don’t really have anywhere to be. Things will pick up soon, though, and they will have to make sure Lister is ready to pretend that nothing ever happened as they embark on a new round of press tours and performances. That’s days away, though, so for now, they can rest.

Their comfortable silence is broken by a knock on the door. Jimmy calls out for Rowan to come in while Lister lets out a guttural, albeit muffled, groan. Rowan opens the door slowly, and Jimmy almost laughs at his wide eyes looking like he’s sussing out the room.

“I just wanted to check in on you, Allister,” Rowan starts slowly, only to receive another loud groan in response, his face still nuzzled into Jimmy’s neck. “Right. Well, I was going to offer to make pancakes. Can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach.”

“You up for a pancake party in bed?” Jimmy nudges him after a beat of silence.

“As long as it’s quiet,” he grumbles.

“Right then. I’ll be back with pancakes.”

Sure enough, Rowan reappears within the hour, somehow balancing three plates of pancakes like some experienced waiter, before handing them off to his friends and shoving his way onto the giant bed.

“I’ll try not to third-wheel too hard,” Rowan teases, earning a swat from Jimmy, who had to reach over a wincing Lister to do so.

“Thanks for the pancakes, Ro.” Lister mumbles after they’ve eaten their pancakes in silence for a few moments.

Jimmy hums to second the sentiment since his mouth is full of pancake. Rowan simply pats Lister’s leg in response as he munches away at his own plate. It’s quiet for a while as they all eat their breakfast, Lister eating very slowly in an attempt to not throw it all back up. One of them has put on an old 90’s film to play quietly as they eat.

After finally finishing his plate, Lister seems to feel a little more like himself. He decides to make it known by opening his big mouth.

“If I had known that all it would take for a pancake party was to relapse again then-”

“No, Allister!” Rowan exclaims at the same time that Jimmy scolds, “Don’t even joke!”

“Ow, ow, too loud!” Lister whines as he moves his fists- which are still clutching his knife and fork- to protect his ears. “No joking about relapsing, got it.”

As they quiet down, Jimmy leans over to try to help detangle the bit of syrup that got into Lister’s hair.

“Seriously, though, I don’t deserve you two. Thank you,” Lister speaks again through little winces when Jimmy accidentally pulls at a clump of hair a bit too hard.

“Would you please quit it with that” Jimmy mumbles with clear exasperation. “He’s been saying this shit for hours, Rowan.”

“I’m serious,” Lister insists. “I’m going to do better this time. I won’t let you down again.”

Jimmy and Rowan share a seemingly telepathic glance, the kind that Lister used to hate.

“I think we both appreciate the sentiment,” Rowan finally responds, “but I seriously don’t think you’ll get very far if you’re only worried about disappointing us. Stay sober for the sake of yourself, yeah?”

Lister just sighs. He doesn’t quite know how to do that. Even after all of this time working on himself. But Jimmy and Rowan have already worried about him enough these last 24 hours, so he decides to just give them what they need to hear for now.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

#my writing #iwbft #lister bird #jimmy kaga ricci #rowan omondi #bicci #osemanverse #i was born for this #iwbft fanfic

14 notes · View notes

sillygooseness · 3 months

Text

hiiii I wrote this at midnight last night and edited it like five minutes after I woke up so please be nice and forgive any grammatical errors 🙏

Description: almost 3k words of post-hiatus, pre-relationship Jimmy and Lister, ft. pining and background Frances and Rowan.

Rated: G

TWs: canon-typical anxiety, brief mentions of alcohol and drinking

Without any further ado my first (bicci) fanfic ever!

sleepless nights (as long as they’re with you)

Somewhere between Lister almost dying, drunk and alone in a river some short ways from Pierro’s and the release of The Ark’s first post-hiatus album, Jimmy realized something. Jimmy realized that maybe, just maybe, Lister wasn’t just objectively attractive, but, in fact, Jimmy was attracted to him. Jimmy tries to think back to when they were younger, or even just a few years ago to try to figure out if the attraction is recent or had always been there. Either way, the romantic feelings began to develop a few months after they’d brought Lister home from the hospital.

Rowan is gone visiting his not-girlfriend Frances Janvier, so it’s just Jimmy and Lister in their new-ish apartment. It’s just outside London, close enough for them to be in London on short notice, far enough that they can breathe.

None of the three boys have technically dated during or after the hiatus, but Rowan has been talking to Frances Janvier for a few months, since they’d met at a movie premiere and she had no idea who The Ark was aside from “that’s a band, isn’t it?”, and Rowan was immediately enamored. Jimmy and Lister had placed bets on how soon Rowan and Frances would get together that same night.

It’s getting to be late for Jimmy and Lister. A few weeks into the hiatus they had all begun to put in a genuine effort to get a solid 8 hours of sleep a night, but tomorrow is a day off, and tonight they just don’t care.

The two of them are laying on Jimmy’s bed while Brooklyn 99 episodes auto-play in the background, although they haven’t been watching for some time now.

Lister is ranting about the book series he’s just finished, one that Jimmy read a few years ago and remembers very little of, but is content to listen to Lister tell him the entire plot, along with all of his opinions.

That said, Jimmy is finding it difficult to pay attention to what Lister was saying. Lister’s sitting next to him, wearing Jimmy’s well-loved Black Parade hoodie that Jimmy pulled up from the floor after Lister kept complaining about being cold, but not wanting to get up. Something that should be known about Lister is that whenever he speaks enthusiastically about something, his hands and his arms move a lot. Normally, this is fine and not really notable to Jimmy, however tonight, every time Lister raises an arm, Jimmy’s hair-too-small hoodies rises up and a sliver of Lister’s bare stomach becomes visible.

You would think that when Lister had been laying in his bed shirtless, Jimmy would have been distracted, but Lister had so rarely ever worn anything more than boxers that the sight no longer phased Jimmy. But Lister was in Jimmy’s bed, in Jimmy’s hoodie, and Jimmy was struggling to not stare at his stomach.

“—and I despise love triangles, they’re entirely unnecessary and frankly annoying, but somehow this book did it well?” Lister says, sounding mildly distressed at his own statement.

“Yeah, it’s not like an Edward and Jacob love triangle at all.” Jimmy replies before Lister is rushing off on an entirely different tangent about Twilight.

Blame the Twilight talk, but now Jimmy can’t help but notice Lister’s newest tattoo, a floral piece on the side of his neck. It looks pretty—Lister looks pretty.

Lister looks healthier than Jimmy thinks he’s ever seen him. He’d stopped drinking and was beginning to put on a bit of muscle. But it’s not only that, he has this look in his eye that Jimmy hasn’t seen since The Ark finished recording their first EP Kill It. Like he’s really happy.

Jimmy shakes his head to himself, tears his eyes away from Lister’s neck, and his eyes land on the long forgotten television.

He got over you years ago. Jimmy reminds himself. It would be cruel to do this to him years after the fact. Lister doesn’t deserve that, and Jimmy isn’t going to do that to him.

“—Jim-jam?” Lister’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Jimmy turns his eyes back to Lister, who seems mildly amused as he takes in Jimmy’s expression.

“Were you listening?” Lister asks, not upset but genuinely inquiring.

“Sorry, I got caught up in my head.” Jimmy replies, which is not technically untrue.

“Are you alright?” Lister asks, his expression shifting just so slightly from amusement to worry, now.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’m listening now.” Jimmy coaxes Lister to keep talking and forget his concern.

“Are you sure? You looked upset?” Lister asks. A good and bad thing from The Ark all getting some therapy during the hiatus was that Lister was keen to communicate now. Which was good most of the time, and bad right now.

Jimmy doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Lister. At his Black Parade hoodie, the sleeves fitted where they should be baggy, Lister’s hands no longer moving, but tucked into its pocket. At Lister’s floral tattoo on the side of his neck that Jimmy has wanted to kiss since Lister came home and showed Jimmy and Rowan the piece in the middle of their kitchen while Rowan was making tea and Jimmy was sitting on the counter listening to Rowan go on and on about Frances.

Jimmy’s eyes finally slid up to look at Lister’s face. At the lips he kissed once, in a bathroom, years ago, when Lister had been drunk, and Jimmy didn’t feel that way about him. Where Lister had profusely apologized and begged Jimmy not to hate him. It was an absurd statement then, and it still was. How could Jimmy hate Allister Bird?

Jimmy’s eyes find Lister’s. Lister’s gaze is unwavering and kind. Sometimes Jimmy wonders what his relationship would be to Lister if The Ark hadn’t become what it did.

“Jimmy?”

Therapy also means that Jimmy has learned how to properly communicate. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to.

Jimmy can feel the panic start to actually build in his chest, the real panic, lively and nauseous, not the thought spiral that Lister had seen moments prior.

It’s now or never. Jimmy seems to realize all at once. He can tell Lister how he feels, potentially ruining the closest relationship he has ever had, that isn’t Rowan or Pierro and Joan, potentially distancing himself from one of the two people in the world who actually know him and understand his life, potentially ruining everything that they had spent the past six months building back up for the band, the band which had managed to have wildly unprecedented success after what their management had considered a far-too-long hiatus.

Or he can tell Lister how he feels and Lister could feel the same way and they can live happily-ever-after.

The latter seems too good to be true.

Lister has always been too good for Jimmy. He always will be. Jimmy is a mess. Even now, when he’s at the best place he has ever been with his mental health and The Ark is doing better than it ever has, what with the new album doing even better than Joan of Arc had at release, Jimmy is still a mess.

But Lister is still looking at him like that. Looking at him like he cares.

“I’m okay, Lister.” Jimmy puts on a weak smile to combat the lumb in his throat. “Do y’want some tea?” Jimmy asks, already halfway out of bed.

“I can do it, watch Brooklyn 99.” Lister says, his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, gently coaxing him to sit back down.

“You didn’t want to get up—” Jimmy begins to protest.

“I don’t mind.” Lister says so simply that Jimmy nearly begins to cry.

Jimmy says a much-too-quiet “okay”, and Lister slips out into the hallway.

Jimmy tries for a brief moment to actually watch Brooklyn 99 and wait for Lister to get back so he can tell Jimmy about his books. It doesn’t work.

Jimmy sighs in frustration and puts his head between his knees like he can cure romantic feelings in the same way as motion sickness.

Lister either makes the quickest cup of tea known to man, or Jimmy doesn’t notice how long he’s been staring at his fitted sheet, his mind somewhere between a panic attack and a confession.

“Jimmy?” Jimmy wishes he would stop doing things to make his name sound so laced with concern every time it falls off Lister’s lips. “You alright?”

Jimmy sits up and quickly takes the cup of tea from Lister.

“You look like you're about to be sick.” Lister says. “Do you want me to hand you the bin?” Jimmy shakes his head. “Do y’want me to call Rowan?”

“Please, don’t.” Jimmy finally says. He takes a sip of tea if only to avoid this conversation for a moment longer. Chamomile vanilla. Jimmy’s favorite.

He looks up at Lister who’s still standing next to Jimmy’s bed watching him. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?” Lister says, and god there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice that Jimmy knows he didn’t intend to slip through.

“Of course,” Jimmy says, his voice more level than it’s been since the start of this evening. “I tell you everything.” Not necessarily true, but not a lie either. He tells Lister everything…except this.

Lister crawls over Jimmy to get to the other side of the bed, not spilling Jimmy’s tea by some miracle, and immediately wraps his arm around Jimmy. “I love you, you know that?” Lister says with his cheek pressed into Jimmy’s hair.

“I love you, too, Lister.” This doesn’t really feel like a lie. Jimmy, Rowan, and Lister had loved each other for as long as they’d been friends. They haven’t been so vocal about it until their early twenties, but that has never made it any less true.

Jimmy drinks his tea in silence, the only noise in the entire apartment being Jimmy’s TV, and the soft rhythm of Lister’s breath in his ear.

When Jimmy sets his mug on his bedside table, Lister asks, “Want to go to bed?”

It is properly late now and all of Jimmy’s panic has made him exhausted.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answers and Lister’s arm falls away from Jimmy and he begins to crawl out of bed.

Jimmy catches Lister’s arm, moving a bit too fast, and says. “You don’t need to get up. My bed’s big enough for both of us.”

“It’s okay,” Lister begins to slide his arm from Jimmy’s hand.

“Your bed isn’t even made and you’re already here.” Jimmy tries to shrug nonchalantly and sets the TV to turn off after an hour.

“Okay,” Lister says only a bit louder than a whisper.

Jimmy lays down and pulls the covers up and around him, pretending he isn’t aware of every move Lister makes as he sets his phone on the floor by the bed, takes off Jimmy’s Black Parade hoodie and crawls fully under the covers.

Jimmy wasn’t lying when he said his bed was big enough for both of them, there’s a solid foot of bed between them and they still have wiggle room on the other side.

It never takes Jimmy long to fall asleep whenever Lister is there.

***

Rowan comes home the next morning with the news that he’s officially going out with Frances Janvier and Lister slyly hands Jimmy a twenty under the table when Rowan isn’t looking.

“Is she gonna be coming ‘round then?” Jimmy asks between bites of cereal.

“She’ll be ‘round next week, but not for a while after that, she and Aled have some Universe City stuff to do.” Rowan replies.

“That’s great, Ro,” Lister says. “‘Bit jealous that you’re the first one of us to be in a relationship since the hiatus but still.”

Rowan rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t waver. Rowan and Lister’s relationship has massively improved over the past few years. Partially from Rowan learning that he doesn’t need to take care of Lister all the time, partially because Lister has learned to take care of himself.

“You could date anyone.” Rowan says.

“Of course I could, have you considered none of them are good enough for Allister Bird?” Lister replies instantly.

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Rowan says.

“I’m with Lister on this one, Rowan, how come you’re the one who always ends up in good, long-term relationships?” Jimmy says as he puts his empty bowl in the dishwasher.

“I dated Bliss for two years and I haven’t even been dating Frances for 24 hours.”

“That’s longer term than Jimmy and I for like five years running.” Lister points out.

“That’s a lie! I dated that guy for three weeks when I was 16.” Jimmy protests.

“Relationships from when you were 16 don’t count.” Lister shrugs as though it’s law. “And you can’t even remember his name, can you?”

Jimmy ignores the last part. “You’re counting Bliss!”

“Because they dated while Rowan was also 17 and 18.”

“Impeccable logic as always, Bird.” Rowan says with a pat on Lister’s shoulder. Lister grins smugly at Jimmy.

“Rowan agrees with me.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Rowan says and then they’re all laughing.

***

Frances comes round the week later to stay for two nights. Jimmy and Lister gleefully tease Rowan about having a girlfriend (although they maintain that they’re perfectly nice and civil to Frances, who is lovely), but eventually the novelty begins to wear off and Jimmy and Lister decide to leave Rowan and Frances alone and retreat to Jimmy’s bedroom.

Watching Brooklyn 99 in Jimmy’s room has become something of a routine of theirs lately. Some nights they watch a few episodes until they actually feel tired and Lister will go to his own room to sleep, other nights he sleeps in Jimmy’s room.

Jimmy prefers the nights where Lister sleeps in Jimmy’s room. He can always sleep when Lister is there, despite the background anxiety about his feelings for Lister, he feels safe with him.

Tonight neither of them are really watching the show, instead they’re scrolling through their respective personal social media accounts that the fans somehow have yet to find. It’s a content silence and Jimmy is perfectly happy to continue to watch Brooklyn 99 and scroll through his phone until he falls asleep, but then Lister says,

“Tell me to shut up if I’ve got the wrong idea, but,” Lister pauses and takes a breath. “you seemed genuinely very stressed about something the other night, and you don’t have to tell me, but you haven’t seemed that stressed in so long and I’m worried about you.” Lister looks at him.

Jimmy means to say more, but all that comes out is, “Lister…”

“You don’t have to tell me just…I’m here for you, for anything. I need you to know that.”

Jimmy opens his mouth to speak and closes it.

“Do you remember when you were drunk and you kissed me?” It’s not at all what Jimmy means to say and as soon as it’s out of his mouth he feels shit for bringing it up.

“I—yeah,” Lister looks embarrassed and slightly pained at the memory.

“And I told you, more or less, that I didn’t feel that way about you,” Jimmy continues slowly.

“Jimmy, you don’t have to reject me again. I got it the first time, haha.” It’s the saddest laugh Jimmy’s ever heard and for a moment his entire train of thought derails.

“What?” Jimmy asks.

“I didn’t think I was being that obvious. God, I’m sorry, Jimmy, you must’ve been so uncomfortable.” Lister explains and he looks like he might start crying.

“D’you still like me?” Jimmy’s voice is soft.

“It feels a bit juvenile to say it that way but…but yeah…” Lister thinks for a moment. “What’d’you mean, did you not know?” Jimmy can see Lister trying to work out what the hell is happening and coming up more confused than before.

“No, no, Lister…” the words are still stuck in his throat. It’s now or never.

Jimmy turns to properly face Lister and puts his hands on his cheeks, the tips of his fingers brush against Lister’s soft blond hair. Lister leans in slightly to the touch, but confusion dances across his face.

Slowly, with plenty of time for Lister to stop him, Jimmy leans in. He stops a breath from Lister’s lips and presses his forehead against Lister’s. Lister’s hands come up to rest on Jimmy’s biceps, his breath quickens and seemingly against his will, his eyes flutter shut.

“Can I kiss you?” Jimmy whispers.

“God, please,” Lister whispers and then Jimmy’s lips meet Lister’s and this time it feels right.

Lister’s hands move from Jimmy’s arms to his waist, pulling him gently so that he’s sat in Lister’s lap. Jimmy’s thumbs stroke Lister’s cheeks as they kiss, every anxiety he’d had about telling Lister how he felt washing away with each brush of his lips against Lister’s.

After a moment their lips part from the other’s and Jimmy presses his forehead to Lister’s again as they breathe.

“That’s what you were having anxiety about?” Lister whispers, his breath fanning across Jimmy’s face.

Jimmy nods and slides his arms around Lister’s neck to rest on his shoulders.

Lister kisses him, once, chaste, before burying his face in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. Lister’s arms tighten around Jimmy’s waist and they hold each other for god-knows how long before they hear Frances and Rowan laughing at something in the living room.

They pull back just enough to see each other’s faces. Jimmy runs his fingers through Lister’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes and then kisses him.

“Stay with me tonight?” Jimmy asks.

“Always.” Lister replies and kisses him again.

#oh my god this is so good #it’s like the universe was calling me back to this site just to read this fic #did i mention how good this is?????#bicci fic

39 notes · View notes