Fast Times at NAMBLA High: Part Ten (A)Author:
The Daily Show... with a smattering of guest appearances. Pairing:
Including but not limited to:
Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Paul, Stephen/Craig Kilborn, Jon/Anderson Cooper, Paul/Amy, Rob/Frustration, Ed/Confusion, (Rob/Frustration)/(Ed/Confusion), Mo Rocca/Lewis Black, Sam/Jason, Demetri Martin/Nathan Corddry, Bob Novak/Hair nets, Aasif Mandvi/Tucker Carlson, Stone Phillips/Barbara Walters, Dan Bakkedahl/Rob Riggle, Dane Cook/His ego, Dave Gorman/John Oliver, Jerry Seinfeld/Steve Carell, Bill O’Reilly/Hatred, Keith Olbermann/Everyone, John Hodgeman/Bill Gates, Tucker/Craig, Aasif/Anderson, John Hodgeman/Sarah Vowell, Will Ferrell/MOP?, Keith/Dennis Leary, George Clooney/CharmFeatured pairing(s):
Um… a lot? I’m too tired to list them allRating:
Crack: it's what's for dinner. Other warnings: AU, drug use, underage drinking, het crap, and Will Ferrell being creepy. For this specific chapter? Probably horribly sporadic tones and emo!Jon.A/N:
Okay, so I’ve had the worst week imaginable and took it out on this thing. It reflects the ups and downs of my life right now, meaning that it’s insanely spastic and horribly edited. But every other chapter has been the same way so hopefully it’ll live up to ya’lls expectations. This is what we call a LAS (aka “Long as Shit”) chapter. I’m anticipating it to be in three parts. Hooray.Length:
Feedback helps my crack addiction. Give generously.Previous chapters: Chapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter Four Point Five: An Interlude of sortsChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineSummary:
I got tired of the old summary, so for those of you new to this:
It's like if a non-idiotic form of the OC had sex with TDS and TCR in some sort of mad-crazy threesome and had a baby that they raised in my home town and forced to watch too much CNN. I swear I’ll come up with a better summary :-(
In this edition of FTANH: bars scenes are insufficiently introduced and parties are insane with too many characters.FAST TIMES AT NAMBLA HIGH
Part Ten (A)
Jerry put his car into park and sighed before leaning his head against the wheel.
“I will not be a prick,” he murmured to himself, tapping his fingers beside his forehead. “I will not be a prick because John is my friend and only pricks are jerkoffs to their friends. I will not be a prick
Sighing again he turned off the engine.
Jumping and clutching at his chest, Jerry turned to his left to see a grinning Steve Carell plastered against his window. “Jesus Christ, man,” Jerry half-laughed as he opened up the door. “You scared the shit out of me!”
Steve cackled evilly and stepped aside to let Jerry extract himself from the car. “Decided to wait for you outside… to be, you know, supportive and such. What were you doing sitting in your car? Convincing yourself not to be a prick again?”
Huffing slightly and glancing in his friend’s direction, Jerry saw Steve smile again. “You’re very insightful this evening,” he grumbled, starting to walk towards the door of the bar.
“Actually, I was just pulling that out of my ass,” Steve admitted, still grinning widely. He looked very at ease tonight, smiling effortlessly with a mischievous glint in his eye. Jerry found it contagious, his own tense body relaxing in response to Steve’s posture.
“Ah, and what an insightful place your ass is,” Jerry replied, grinning.
“That’s what all the fellas say,” Steve said, winking and opening up the door. “After you, madam.”
“You treat a lady so well!” Jerry fluttered his eyelashes and pretended to swoon before letting the door shut quickly before Steve could enter. “Sorry,” he shouted through the glass as Steve made an indignant face. “Did you want to come in?”
Steve mouthed something that looked an awful lot like “bastard” before yanking the doors open and almost causing Jerry to spill out. “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman or I would so clock you,” he warned, brushing past his colleague.
“But you’d never hit a lady, would you?” Jerry chuckled as he bumped shoulders with his friend. “You see them?”
“Uh… there they are.” John and Dave were seated in a corner table, laughing uproariously about something. Jerry raised his eyebrows at Steve to which he replied, “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s not like they’re canoodling or anything.”
Pursing his lips, Jerry shot him a look and said, “I’m not saying anything! Jesus.”
Laughing, Steve threw his arm around him. “Relax man. Just remember: don’t be a prick!”
Jerry sent him another dirty look before approaching the table. “Well, well, well. Aren’t you two just the picture of old time British enjoyment?”
He was greeted with two broad grins. Judging by the rosy color of both men’s cheeks, they had already been drinking. “Jerry!” Dave said affectionately, earning a lazy smile from John. “We’ve been waiting for you two!”
Jerry smiled, hoping it didn’t look too strained. He just needed alcohol… he always felt stressed when he was meeting a friend’s significant other. Don’t be a prick
, he sung inside his head.~~~~~~~~
Parking his bike outside, Jon checked the piece of paper that Rob had written his address on the day before. Yep, it was the right place.
Furrowing his brow, Jon surveyed the area. There were cars strewn about the vicinity, clogging up the street and probably violating an entire host of road laws. Checking the address again, Jon wondered vaguely if Rob had written the wrong one down. He decided to go ahead and try it anyway, making his way nervously to the door.
He knocked twice and glanced down the street, seeing if anywhere else looked like it was having a party. To his relief it was a hassled-looking Rob who opened the door, letting the booming bass and party noises leak out on the otherwise quiet street.
“What?” he asked haggardly before recognition dawned on his face. “Jon!” he cried, sounding desperate. “You came!” Jon then found himself enveloped in a very awkward hug.
“Uh, hey there,” he laughed nervously, arms stuck to his sides. He tried not to sigh in relief as Rob released him. “You alright?”
“This… this thing is way out of control!” Rob shouted over the loud music and screaming people as he led Jon inside. “Someone leaked out that I was having a party!” Running both hands through his hair, he huffed in frustration. “I mean, Christ, my parents get home Sunday!”
Putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, Jon smiled in sympathy. “Look man, this isn’t so bad. Look… if you need me to, I can stay after everyone heads off and give you a hand cleaning up, okay?”
Rob looked like he could kiss him and Jon was very glad when he didn’t. “Jon… that’s… you’re awesome.” He glanced over Jon’s shoulder and a horrified look came over his face. “Uh… be right back…” He then ran in the direction he had been looking, shouting, “THAT’S MY GRANDFATHER’S URN, YOU BASTARDS!”
Finding himself alone, Jon inspected the inside of the house. It was pretty much insane. It appeared that the living room had been converted into a temporary dance floor, complete with a DJ. Who had gotten someone to DJ, Jon couldn’t guess but he felt impressed by the foresight nonetheless. People were crammed into every corner and it seemed that nearly every seat available was being used for an intense make-out session.
After watching one particularly passionate couple in interest for a moment, Jon felt a tug on his arm. Turning, he found himself facing a very red-faced and smiley Ed. It felt weird seeing him without Rob… like he had lost an arm or something.
“Jon!” Ed slurred excitedly.
“Hey man,” Jon chuckled, smiling at Ed uneasily.
“Oh my God! It’s awesome to… to see you!” His words seemed to all run together and Jon realized with a start that the boy’s glasses had gone missing.
“Dude… are you okay?” he asked cautiously, putting a tentative hand on his arm.
“I’m fantastic!” was the jubilant reply as Ed threw his hands into the air, earning a few stares in their directions.
“A little drunk are we?” Jon asked kindly, smirking a little.
“Yeah! I mean… these guys… they brought beer! And this other alcohol… and I drank it!”
Jon nodded patiently, scanning the room for Rob. “Uh huh.”
“It’s called jungle juice?”
“It had like…. Everlast or something in it?”
Jon’s eyes shot back to Ed. “Dude, you drank Everclear? Have you ever even been drunk before?”
Ed shook his head happily and grinned all the more. “Nope! It was good. Except… I can’t feel my lips now.” He poked at his face unhappily. “Pooh.”
Jon fought the groan that threatened in his throat and peered into Ed’s face. “Ed.” No response. “Ed.” Still nothing. “Ed!”
“Huh?” Oh no, he was not looking too good.
“How much have you had?” Jon asked slowly and carefully.
“Not sure. I also had this… Bacardi… 151?”
“Oh my God,” Jon breathed, running a hand over his face.
“And I bonged a beer.” Jon let his head fall in his hands. At his continued silence, Ed cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing,” Jon muttered. “You’re just going to be in for a very, very long night.”
“Yes, really. Where’s the kitchen?” Jon grabbed the other boy’s arm and started steering him towards where he indicated the room was. “Now listen to me carefully Ed.”
“You have pretty eyes.”
Jon paused and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I… thank you, but can you listen to me? Ed?”
“I have something to tell you.”
“Are you listening?”
“I said are you listening.”
“Okay, look: you are not allowed to drink anything else
Ed pouted. “Not even jungle juice?”
“Especially not jungle juice. Nothing except for water.”
There was a pause before Ed nodded slowly. “Alright.”
“Let’s go and get you some now, okay?”
“Get me some what?”
Ed smiled blandly and wagged his head up and down. “Yeah, water sounds good.”
“Good, I’m glad,” Jon muttered before sighing. Still dragging Ed by the arm, he pushed his way through the throng of people clogging the entrance into the kitchen. Shoving a few drunken freshmen out of the way which incited a chorus of “what the fuck, man”s, Jon forced Ed to the sink. Turning on the water, he ordered, “Drink.”
Giving Jon a slightly mystified look, Ed put his head under the stream and choked down a few mouthfuls before Jon yanked him away.
“Dude, I meant use your hands, not stick your fucking head under the faucet!” Blinking water out of his eyes while his hair stuck at odd wet angles on his head, Ed looked like he might cry. “No! No, you’re fine, don’t get upset. I’m just… tired.”
“Sorry,” Ed muttered piteously before cupping his hands to catch the water and bringing it to his lips, though far more fell onto his shirt.
“Good job,” Jon murmured kindly, rubbing small circles on his back and looking around uneasily at the crowd around them. Rob, where the fuck are you?
“How you feeling?” he asked once Ed had come up for air.
“My dad… my dad thinks I’m out shooting stuff…” Ed muttered, rubbing his eyes.
“What?” Jon replied, feeling sincerely confused.
“My dad. He doesn’t… he doesn’t like Rob…” Brow furrowing, Ed shook his head. “So I had to tell him I’m in a gun club.”
“Why doesn’t he like Rob?”
Ed just shook his head again, looking away with a sad expression his face. “Dunno. Says I should act like a real man… probably involves, you know, chasing pussy and whatever… I don’t really… you know, like that all that much.” He glanced up at Jon and giggled a little. “You’re all blurry.”
“Hey man, don’t worry about it,” Jon smiled. “Your dad’s probably just being protective, you know?”
“Right,” Ed snorted. “He just wants to make sure I don’t end up gay.”
“Ed,” Jon murmured seriously, “there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Giving him an oddly considerate look, Ed appeared to be about to say something when a shout across the room caught his attention. “Helms! Come play beer pong with us!”
Ed threw two fists into the air and yelled, “Beer pong! Woo!” He then launched forward before Jon grabbed his arm.
“Dude, do you even know how to play beer pong?” he demanded, feeling entirely bewildered.
“Nope!” Ed answered happily before diving back into the crowd. “BEER PONG!” Jon heard him shouting again.
Sighing, he leaned against the sink and rubbed a hand down his face. Well, he had at least tried. Hopefully Rob would find the stupid kid before he blacked out.
Jon jumped a good foot as someone roared, “LEIBOWITZ!”
There was only one person who could achieve that sort of volume.
“Jason,” Jon laughed nervously. “You scared me, man.”
“LEIBOWITZ!” Jason bellowed again, only this time about two inches from Jon’s right ear as he slung a sweaty arm over the shorter boy’s shoulders. Jon winced and attempted to smile at the boisterous young man. “SOME PARTY, HUH?”
“Is there… is there a reason why we’re shouting?”
Jason ignored the question completely and stared at Jon’s empty hands. “DUDE, WHY DON’T YOU HAVE BEER?”
Jon glanced down. “Oh, I uh… I got sidetracked…”
“NOT COOL,” came the loud reply. “THAT NEEDS TO BE SO REMEDIED!”
Dragging Jon to the keg, Jason filled a cup before thrusting it into the smaller boy’s hand. “Thanks?” Jon said weakly, taking a tentative sip.
“JESUS, JON, DRINK LIKE A MAN!” Jason cried out, guffawing and slapping him on the back. After he recovered from almost choking, Jon took a longer gulp of the drink. He liked beer, but this shit was cheap and tasted vaguely like someone had flavored it with ear wax. Dear God, he needed a smoke.
“CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!” Jason commanded and, shrugging, Jon figured why not? He held the cup to his lips took a deep breath before letting it slide down his throat, taking breaths through his nose whenever he needed them. “WOW MAN, THAT WAS KICKASS!” Jason shouted once Jon held up the empty cup in triumph. “YOU ARE A MOTHERFUCKING TANK!”
Not a second later, Jon found a fresh cup shoved into his hand. Smiling slightly to himself, he repeated the action, earning an excited whoop from Jason. Soon, he had chugged five beers and it was definitely hitting him. He hadn’t had anything to drink for a while and, barring his frequent affairs with Mary Jane, he hadn’t been intoxicated in nearly as long.
Finding a seventh beer going down, Jon wondered vaguely if this was going to be a long night for him as well.
“JASON, WHAT THE HELL?” Both Jon and Jason turned to find a very angry Sam facing them. “I LEAVE YOU FOR TWO SECONDS AND…” She blinked and stared at Jon, a smile coming over her face. “Jon! I didn’t see you!”
Jon grinned as Sam threw her arms around him. He liked Sam. “Hey!” he said, hugging her back.
“DUDE, DON’T GET FRISKY WITH MY LADY!” Jason shouted good-naturedly. Jason was loud. But Jason was nice too. Jon decided he liked Jason.
Letting go of Sam, Jon stepped back to find another beer being shoved into his hands. “Uh… thanks man,” he said fuzzily, a lazy grin making its way to his face. Beer. Beer was good.
“Jon, you don’t have to drink that. Jason, stop forcing Jon to drink,” Sam said, her own words slurring a little bit.
Jason slung his arm around Jon again. “I’M NOT FORCING HIM! THIS MAN IS A TANK! A TANK!
” Turning around, Jason raised his cup into the air and yelled even louder somehow, “WOO BEER!”
Sam watched him wander away, a small mystified smile on her face. “Why do I put up with that?” she murmured, almost to herself.
“He seems like a pretty cool guy,” Jon admitted groggily. Jason was cool. Cool but loud. “I mean… you have to see something in him?”
“Yeah,” she conceded, looking pleased. “Oh, God…” she groaned suddenly, both hands going up to grip her face.
Jon looked up to find Jason, now shirtless, on top of the dining room table and singing loudly to “Rebel Yell” blasting from the speakers. He did an impressive impression of Billy Idol’s sneer and did a series of pelvic thrusts that left Jon gasping for breath as he giggled at the scene before him.
“JASON FUCKING JONES, GET OFF THAT GODDAMNED TABLE!”
Jon was fairly sure he no longer had ear drums since both members of the couple had now practically screamed on either side of his head. Sam was gone in an instant and Jon nodded slightly at the spot she had stood in. “Well… bye,” he murmured, laughing slightly.
He glanced down at his drink and furrowed his brow. What number was this? Seven? Eight? Nine? Jon usually had a policy that once he lost track, he had to quit while he was ahead. Or at least conscious. But right now he was feeling more at ease in his new environment than he had since he’d gotten there so he took another sip of the nasty beer. It somehow tasted less nasty now. He’d just take it slow the rest of the evening.
“Jon!” Jon fought the frown on his face. He was finally relaxed. Couldn’t people just leave him alone? “Jon?”
Turning around, he smiled in spite of himself. “Rob!” he said happily, grinning as the other boy made his way toward him. He liked Rob, even if Rob was weird. And probably gay.
“Jon, have you…” the other boy trailed off as he saw the dreamy look on Jon’s face. “Oh my God, are you drunk already?”
Jon stared at the cup in his hands before glancing back to where Jason was now belting out “Wind It Up”. His Gwen Stefani impression was somehow even better than his Idol one. “Jason… he got to me…” Jon offered by ways of explanation, smiling and shaking his head.
“Well… you look more relaxed anyway,” Rob chuckled.
Both boys started as someone screamed a jovial, “ROB!”
Rob turned and was nearly tackled as Ed launched himself at him.
“Hey… you,” Ron said awkwardly, patting his back and looking baffled. “What’s…” He stopped mid-sentence and wrinkled his nose. “Dear God, Ed, you smell like a dead hobo!”
“I know!” Ed cried happily, still hugging Rob. People were starting to stare. “You like hobos!”
Jon giggled as Rob gave the other boy a warning look. “Ed, what have I said about hobos?”
To this, Ed nodded solemnly and Jon wondered briefly what in the hell the two were talking about. “I played beer pong!” Ed declared, changing the subject completely. He was no longer hugging Rob in a death grip but had instead opted for leaning back and holding his friend to him by his forearms. Rob looked intensely uncomfortable.
“That’s… cool…” he chuckled uneasily, glancing at all the people staring at them.
“I missed you!”
Rob shot him a look and pried Ed’s hands off of his arms, giggling nervously again. “Missed you too… buddy,” he said awkwardly before ruffling Ed’s hair.
The other boy looked crestfallen by the loss of contact and furrowed his brow. “Rob, why are you…” A distant crash cut him off and Rob groaned loudly.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” he yelled, dashing off the figure out what was going wrong now. Ed spared Jon a helpless glance before running to follow his friend, evidently to finish whatever awkward conversation they were about to have.
Jon again found himself alone. He stared at his cup again and discovered, much to his amazement, that it was empty. So much for taking it slowly.
“Wow, so are those guys banging boots yet or what?” Jon blinked slowly and turned to find himself looking up at a very, very
tall young man with a ridiculous frock of red hair. He had a beaky nose and small eyes with a large head balanced on his thin and long body. He looked decidedly stork-like and Jon found himself liking the oddness of him in spite of himself.
“Who? Rob and Ed?” he asked stupidly.
“Yeah, me and Tina have a pool going on it,” the tall boy explained, gesturing to a brown-haired girl beside him. She had on thick-rimmed square glasses and had a smart look about her. Jon found her to be on the attractive side… definitely the kind of girl he’d have sex with but probably would never have sex with him. She was definitely the sort-of-nerdy-friend-who-will-always-be-t
oo-good-for-you type. Jon grinned at her.
She gave the tall boy an amused look before extending her hand. “I’m Tina Fey. This is my friend Conan O’Brien.”
“Conan?” Jon giggled. “That’s a kickass name, man, I have to say.”
Conan merely smiled mildly. “And you are…?”
“Jon. Jon Leibowtiz.”
Grin growing wider, Conan nodded his head in approval. “So I guess I’m not the only one here wearing my heritage on my sleeve, huh?”
Jon shrugged, smiling back. “It’s the curse of the Jews. We all sound so horribly Jewish!”
“So are you friends with Rob?” Tina asked, sipping whatever it was that she was holding.
“Well… I guess. I mean, he’s sort of pledged his undying allegiance to me after this, uh… incident.” At the curious looks he received, Jon merely pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, knowing Rob, it undoubtedly is,” Conan said good-naturedly. “We’re a friend of a friend. That friend, to be exact.” The tall boy gestured behind Jon to where Jason, still atop the table, had now acquired a lamp which he was using as a stripper pole/microphone while belting out along with Fergie.
“HOW COME EVERY TIME YOU COME AROUND
MY LONDON-LONDON BRIDGE WANNA COME DOWN
WANNA COME DOWN
LIKE MY LONDON-LONDON-LONDON
WANNA COME DOWN!
Sam apparently had abandoned her hopes of dragging her boyfriend from his true calling of being a showgirl and instead opted to take the position of the adoring fan, screaming in joy at pelvic thrusts thrown her way. Jon stared open-mouthed at the spectacle for a moment before he remembered he was actually having a conversation.
Conan was saying something and Jon barely caught it, realizing it had something to do with Jon’s status as the new kid and the usual questions that accompanied such an observation. Concentrating on the words was getting harder for him and he gritted his teeth before taking a more stable stance and trying to focus on the two before him.
“Uh… what?” he asked foggily.
“I asked where you’re from,” Conan said louder. “Hey… are you okay?”
Jon pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “I think so… Jason kind of force-fed me like… six beers so I think I’m just feeling it now.”
Tina touched his arm in concern and he stared at the hand in wonder. It was small and thin, looking a bit like his mother’s. Jon shook his head, trying to rid himself of the strange deja vu. “You sure you’re okay? Want to sit down or something?”
“I’m… what? Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea…” he stared around to try and find a flat surface not being utilized by the fornicators. If Stephen were here, he’d probably yell at them in a faux-Southern voice, declaring that they were viper’s brood and were going to burn-a in the fiahs of hell-a. Was Stephen supposed to be here? He should ask Tina.
Shaking his head to clear it, he found that the girl had steered him to a part of the couch that was couple-free. “There, you sit down,” she said kindly, brushing his hair from his forehead. “I’ll go and get a glass of water.” She and Conan exchanged a glance before she flitted off.
“Dude,” Jon murmured as Conan towered above him. “Your girlfriend’s really nice. And hot.” Snapping his mouth shut, he slapped his forehead. “Sorry, that was completely inappropriate. Blame the intoxication.”
“Don’t worry about it,” the gangly boy chuckled, looking off to where Tina had disappeared to. “Besides, she’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend.”
“Really? Because she’s… she’s cool.” Jon wagged his head up and down, the tiny sober part of his brain left hoping to God he didn’t sound like too much of an idiot. “Seriously.”
Conan smiled patiently. Or possibly smirked patiently. “Yes, well, I’m sure she would appreciate the sentiment.”
“And here we are!” Tina appeared with a glass of water. “Drink,” she ordered as she handed it to Jon.
Giggling slightly at how the tables had turned in such a short amount of time, Jon grabbed the glass and drank greedily from it before deciding that this may have not been the best idea ever. He choked for a moment before Conan patted him on the back. “Slow down,” he said quietly.
Jon nodded and squinted out of tearing eyes. “I’m… I can usually hold my liquor better…” he coughed, smiling ruefully.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Tina said, smiling down at him. “Knowing Jason it was probably more than six beers.”
“Yeah… he kept calling me a tank and I think it went to my head,” Jon chuckled, the woozy feeling dissipating. “Thanks for the water,” he smiled up at Tina. “You all are too kind.”
“Just consider it our New Kid Outreach Program,” the gangly redhead quipped. “For just ten cents a day, you can provide an underprivileged new kid acceptance and enough lunch money to dissuade any bullies from giving them a beat-down for a whole year.”
“Sounds like my kind of program,” Jon giggled, pressing his cool hands to his flushed face. “But seriously, you guys… yeah…”
Tina raised an eyebrow and glanced at Conan. “Wow, he must be really deprived. Our kindness has left him speechless.”
“You should see me when I’m coherent,” Jon murmured, the small smile still on his face as the world came into better focus again. “I’m truly pathetic.”
“Oh God,” Jon groaned, not even bothering to turn around and letting his head fall into his hands. “Not again…”
“HOLY FUCK! FEY! O’BRIEN!” Jason hollered in joy. “YOU GUYS ARE HERE! SWEET!” He poked Jon in the ribs before ruffling his hair a little too roughly. “I SEE YOU MET JON HERE. LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT HIS LITTLE JEW FACE!”
Tina was grimacing at Jason’s loudness but still laughed a little. “Yes, he’s indeed adorable.”
Jon felt his face blush a little at the compliment even if he wasn’t exactly sure if it was said just in order to placate Jason. The other boy had hauled Jon to his feet and wrapped his arm yet again around Jon’s smaller shoulders, his bare chest pressed right up against Jon’s side. The shorter boy tried to put more space between them but Jason seemed hell bent on violating his personal space as much as possible.
The strains of a new song made its way to their ears and Jason, still sweating against Jon, suddenly bellowed, “HOLY SHIT! I LOVE THIS SONG!” He slowly turned his head to Jon and regarded him with a truly evil grin. “Leibowtiz…”
In spite of his immense relief at having his name said in a voice that was at a normal decibel level, Jon felt his heart sinking as Jason grinned at him. “No…” he protested weakly, trying to wriggle away. “Jason, I can’t… I’m a terrible dancer… seriously…”
“Come on Eileen!
“BULLSHIT, MY FINE MAN!” Jason cried good-naturedly before man-handling Jon towards the make-shift stage that had once been a table. “WE ARE DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY!”
“Come on Eileen!
Jon glanced back helplessly at Tina and Conan, begging them to rescue him with his eyes. The girl gave Conan an imploring look and, shrugging, he began to follow where Jon was now being forced onto the table top. Tina ambled behind him and soon she, Conan, Jason, and Jon were all atop the surface.
“Poor old Johnny Ray,
Sounded sad upon the radio;
Put the million hearts in mono!
Our mothers cried,
Who'd blame them?
Jon stood awkwardly as more people joined them on the table. Conan gave him a wide grin before singing along loudly, dancing in a weird gangly way as Tina bopped next to him. It all made Jon feel slightly more relaxed since they were obviously just as white as him.
“You're grown (You're grown up)
So grown. (So grown up.)
Now I must say more than ever
(Come On Eileen!)
Toora, loora, toora loorye aye!
We can sing just like our fathers:
Jon knew this song. Hell, he knew it well really. This just wasn’t a fact he would normally like to broadcast. But with Tina smiling at him and Conan looking like an absolute ass, he found himself miraculously not caring. He opened his mouth wide and, with everyone around him, bellowed out the chorus.
“COME ON EILEEN!
OH I SWEAR
(WELL HE MEANS)
AT THIS MOMENT
YOU MEAN EVERYTHING!
YOU IN THAT DRESS
VERGE ON DIRTY
OH COME ON EILEEN!
Jon looked up from his reverie of singing to find a pair of brown eyes behind glasses grinning at him from across the room. Stephen
. He was here after all.
He felt a fleeting pang of apprehension at looking like such a drunken idiot but then Stephen’s grin widened and a smile followed on Jon’s face. Stephen raised an eyebrow and laughed, eyes glinting. Not thinking twice about it, Jon jerked his head, silently beckoning the other boy to join them. Sending a glance around him, Stephen shrugged and made his way through the crowd and, with Jon’s help, jumped onto the table.
“These people round here,
Wear beaten down eyes,
Sunk in smoke dried faces,
They're so resigned to what their fate is,
But not us (no never),
No not us (no Never),
We are far too young and clever
Much to his surprise, Stephen was a remarkably good dancer. Sure, he was a little on the goofy side, but unlike Jon’s random flailing about, he seemed to actually have rhythm. He and the taller boy made eye contact and sung loudly into each other’s faces.
“Toora, loora, toora, loorye, aye!
I'll hum this tune forever!
COME ON EILEEN
OH I SWEAR
(WELL HE MEANS)
AH COME ON LET’S
TAKE OFF EVERYTHING
WEAR THAT DRESS
(TELL HIM YES)
AH COME ON LET’S
OH COME ON EILEEN
Jon was pleased to note that Stephen’s breath smelled of alcohol, alleviating his anxiety that he was portraying himself as too much of a drunken-sorority-girl type than his usual stoner-who-doesn’t-give-a-shit type. Of course, he reasoned, if anyone wouldn’t care about how he was acting, it would be Stephen. The other boy did a nerdy twirl before leaning in and winking at Jon. Is he… flirting with me?
Jon thought in wonder. The idea was so absurd that he barked out a laugh and covered his mouth before dissolving into giggles. Stephen raised both of his eyebrows before getting to his knees and actually beginning to serenade the other boy. He reached up and pried the hand away from Jon’s face to clutch it, grin growing ever wider as the shorter boy used his other hand to wipe away the tears of laughter from his eyes.
Playing along, Jon swooned appropriately, earning an amused expression from Conan and an appreciative laugh from Tina. Stephen hopped back to his feet and moved in closer, smiling devilishly as he leaned in.Gay chicken, eh?
Jon thought, a wry smile coming to his face. Two can play at this game.
He leaned in as well, mirroring Stephen and raising his eyebrows in challenge. The dark-haired boy smirked, looking a bit impressed. They were dancing weirdly close now, neither quite sure how to dance with another guy. It was awkward but funny and if Jon got a kick out of anything, it was from being funny... even if it involved looking like a complete idiot. Being drunk was helping, of course. Stephen, apparently, had the same instincts; responding to the catcalls with an exaggerated hip swivel in Jon’s direction that almost made him lose his cool and start giggling again.
Stephen also had the whole… sexy
thing down better than Jon did. Jon felt like he had probably lost the game of chicken at that point since he was basically just following Stephen’s lead, but that wasn’t the objective of the performance anymore. The object had become the small audience that had gathered, laughing uproariously at the two boys who were trying to keep straight faces.
Taking it to the next level, Stephen raised his hand and ran it through Jon’s hair. For a moment, Jon realized with a jolt that the charade was gone and he saw there in Stephen’s eyes a look of real affection. It was odd and a bit nerve-wracking but then the mischievous glint was back and they were just being funny again, leaving Jon to assume he was just imagining things.
With Stephen’s hand descending from carding through his hair, the song tapered off. The silence was followed by loud clapping as Jon and Stephen separated from each other and bowed. The taller boy hopped down from the table, offering Jon an arm to cling to as he nearly tumbled after.
,” he gasped, finally letting the hysterical laughter take over, “are a crazy-ass bastard.”
Stephen just grinned at him and shrugged. “I’m drunk. What can I say.”
“You’re actually a pretty good dancer,” Jon admitted once he had caught his breath. “For a supposedly straight man.”
“Whoever said I was supposedly straight?” Stephen asked, that odd serious look on his face. Before Jon could decipher if it was a joke or not, an arm was thrown around him while its counterpart gave him a gratuitous noogie.
“Leibowitz!” a decidedly hoarse Jason Jones rasped. “I didn’t know you had it in you!”
Jon thanked the gods of hearing that the other boy’s voice was gone. “I plead alcohol consumption.”
Stephen just smiled easily, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I plead that this here is one sexy man-beast.” The two glanced at each other before launching into giggles again.
Jason smiled, regarding the both of them. “I think Sam wants to fuck both of you now. So I may be forced to murder you!” He guffawed at his own joke before looking at Jon’s once-again empty hands. “Dude, you need some more libations…”
“Hey!” Jon laughed, raising his hands in defense. “Did that display not prove to you that I’m drunk enough already? Besides, I need a smoke.” Pulling out his pack, he glanced up at Stephen as he shoved a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna come?”
Shooting a look behind him, Stephen shrugged, a lop-sided grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, sure, why not.”
Sighing sadly, Jason shoved them toward the door. “Alright, but if I find you making out out there… Sam’s going to want to watch.”
“Duly noted,” Stephen grinned before opening the door for Jon. “After you.”
Jon nodded to him before stumbling out into the night air. It was a bit chillier than before and he wondered idly how much time had passed. A light fog made the stars blur together and the moon hung low and hazy in the sky. He pulled at his sleeves to cover his hands, more out of habit than real discomfort from the cold, and watched as his cupped fingers became illuminated from the glowing flame of his lighter.
Taking a deep breath, he let the sensation of the smoke entering his lungs calm him and he shut his eyes in satisfaction. After exhaling, he glanced over at Stephen who was watching him in rapt fascination.
“You make that look positively pornographic,” he murmured, that lop-sided smile still on his face.
Jon just shook his head in amusement, glancing down at his feet as he scuffed the pavement. “Want one?”
Stephen waved a dismissing hand. “No, don’t smoke. However enticing you may make it look.”
Jon grinned and breathed in another puff, backing up to lean against the side of the house. “Pity,” he sighed, shooting Stephen a smile. “It’s an amazingly bad habit.”
“Ah, well,” the taller boy shrugged, adjusting his glasses and leaning against the hood of one of the numerous cars in the driveway. “I’m Catholic. I’m only allowed so many vices.”
Jon giggled and rubbed his eyes, glad that the world didn’t feel so… swirly anymore. “That’s the joy of being Jewish. We can have as many vices as we want.”
Stephen smirked and fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “The least of which being dancing, huh?”
Shooting him a glare, Jon snorted. “Hey, I have never claimed to be a good dancer! I’m a native dancer of Caucasia. It is the dance of our peoples. The whiteness runs deep, my friend.”
Stephen giggled and Jon found himself smiling in response to it. This kid was pretty much as charming as they get. “Native dancer of Caucasia?” Stephen snorted, starting to really lose it. “That’s just… hah…”
Jon joined him in his helpless laughter and soon both boys were clinging to their sides, tears running from their eyes. Jon slid down the siding, cigarette forgotten and falling from his hand. Stephen crawled from his spot near the car and collapsed next to him, shaking as he giggled loudly.
After a few minutes, their laughter began to subside and Stephen sent him a side-long glance, that look on his face again. That knowing, considerate look. Jon braced himself, feeling like something important was about to be said.
“Jon,” he began, “you know I—”
“Stephen! I’ve been looking fucking everywhere…” Paul’s voice trailed off in surprise as he saw his friend lounging on the ground next to the new kid. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”
His brow was furrowed and Jon wondered briefly if what he was seeing on the other boy’s face was once again jealousy. Instead of stating the obvious that, yes, he was in fact interrupting, Jon just shrugged easily and picked up his forgotten cigarette. “Nope. Stephen just decided to join me outside.”
The bespectacled boy shot Jon a look that he promptly ignored, instead opting to watch the stick in his hand burn away. “Did you need something Paul?” Stephen asked warily, turning his attention back to his friend.
“Well, I mean… I was just looking for you and… uh, Amy’s a little nuts right now…” Paul shifted uncomfortably, glancing back inside.
“Go on ahead,” Jon said, forcing himself to smile and wave a dismissing hand. “I’m cool.”
Stephen gave him an unsure look. “You… you sure?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yeah man,” Jon said, the grin coming easier now. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Exhaling through his nose, Stephen gave Jon his considerate look again and, once he realized Jon wasn’t going to look back, he got to his feet. “Well… see you,” he said uneasily, brushing off his pants.
“Later,” Jon said breezily, stubbing out the cigarette and lighting another. He watched as the tall boy joined Paul at the door, ignoring the last look Stephen sent his way.
As they disappeared, he fought the age-old feelings of loneliness and found solace in the burning ember of the nicotine-laden stick smoldering between his fingers.TO BE CONTINUED?!?!...yes.Tune in next time for more insanity, some actual man-y-man action, and more bar business.
ENDNOTE: I hope this didn’t blow too badly. As I said, my week has been, as the Spanish would say: “el terrible” and I feel like this chapter is kind of crappy as a result. Hence me also sucking in responding to everyone's absolutely wonderful comments. But there’s more to come so hopefully it won’t be as crazy-busy as this chapter. All songs I mentioned can be uploaded, I was just too lazy to break out my external harddrive and actually make them available. Also, drunk!Ed = love. Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.