Nikki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
five_steps_back) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2012-02-27 07:42 pm
five_steps_back) wrote in rainbowfic2012-02-27 07:42 pm
Tyrian Purple 17, Alice Blue 7, Shell Pink 6 with PBN, Pastels, Acrylic, Stain, and Otherw
Name: Nikki
Colors: Tyrian Purple 17. chariot of the sun god, Alice Blue 7. begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop, Shell Pink 6. ammonite (Some memories stay fossilized in your mind.)
Styles and Supplies: Paint by Numbers (Kat's), Pastels (my gen+romance card; G4: first time), Acrylic (sinuous), Stain ("Don't try to solve serious matters in the middle of the night." - Philip Dick), Brush (viva voce), Modeling Clay (#142: battle), Oils (with predictable results), Chalk (Flood Play)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,830
Story: Second Genesis; the title of this piece is 'I Don't Want This Night To End.'
Summary: Noah and Jackson's first date.
All The Notes: Takes place in June 2035. The title is taken from a song of the same name by Luke Bryan. If anyone is interested in what radio station everyone is listening to in this piece, I tried my best make it here. This is not at all how I planned this to end, but Noah stopped here and just absolutely refused to talk more, and I've given up. (Judge me as you will.) I also apologize for slight time warps.
The sun was close to setting when Noah and Jackson - he was s'pose to be 'Jax', according to Miss June, but Jackson said 'Jackson' when he introduced himself, so it had stuck - started heading back toward the house. They had been out on the far side of the property, fixing a fence line near the woods, and he imagined the sun would be gone completely by the time they got back.
"You goin' into town tonight?" Jackson asked, startling him out of his thoughts.
Jackson's hair was distracting; the sunlight hadn't started dimming too much yet, and it was about as blue as anything could be. Wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it still took Noah a moment to answer. "For anythin' in particular?"
"S'Friday night. I thought 'bout everybody went into town on Friday night."
"Ain't much into goin' into town," he shrugged. If he was lying, he'd only be half-lying. He didn't mind going to honky-tonks, but he wasn't much into dancing with women anymore and he wasn't up to dealing with eventual questions about why.
"Then what do you do on Friday nights?" Jackson asked, looking at him from - not from under his lashes. Out from the corner of his eye, if anything.
Noah couldn't help but notice that Jackson's eyes and his hair were somehow the same color blue. It took him a moment to answer again. "Drive 'round a bit. I know a lotta back roads, so there ain't too many other cars, usually." That was all he meant to say. Somehow, he kept going. "You can go, if you want."
Jackson smiled, distracting him again. "That sounds nice."
They didn't talk much more than that. Like he thought, the sun had set by the time they reached the house, and Miss June had supper waiting on the table. They both headed for the kitchen sink, since Miss June never let anyone sit down for a meal if they didn't wash up first.
"Did you get the fence fixed, boys?" she asked after Jackson said grace and they had sat down, Jackson and Miss June facing each other, and Noah at the end; the chair at the head of the table would have been Isaac's.
Jackson was the one to answer her, which was fine with Noah. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he noticed that chicken and dumplings were the main course. Now he was mostly focused on eating at a pace that his mama would have considered polite. Jackson's leg brushed against his under the table, and Noah looked at him, suddenly paying attention.
"And then," Jackson was saying, "Noah invited me to go ridin' 'round with him."
Hell. Noah felt the back of his neck burn when he glanced over at Miss June and found her looking at him like she knew something he didn't.
"Just make sure to come back in time to sleep for a bit," she said. "Tomorrow might be Saturday, but there are still chores that need to be done." She focused on Jackson before she kept talking, and Noah silently went back to eating, and trying to figure out what time 'in time to sleep for a bit' was.
The rest of dinner went like it usually did, with a lot of comfortable silence and the music from the small radio that Miss June kept in the window above the kitchen sink. Jackson excused himself to 'freshen up', he said, after the dishes were cleared. He disappeared up the stairs, and Noah glanced down at his own clothes that were dirty and torn from that day's work.
"If you want to go shower, you'll be done 'fore he is. He always takes his time," Miss June said.
"Ma'am?" he asked, not sure what she meant.
The look she gave him in response could have been called fondly exasperated. "He's treatin' this like a date. He's expectin' you to do the same."
Noah felt his ears burn that time, and he avoided her eyes when he turned to walk for the downstairs bathroom.
He was quick with his shower, and decided against shaving. There weren't many clothes in the downstairs closet of the guest bedroom where he slept, mostly old pairs of jeans and shirts with the sleeves taken off, so Noah just found the cleanest ones he could and pulled on his work boots, his only pair of shoes. His hair was still damp when he walked back into the kitchen to sit down and wait for Jackson. He could see Miss June sitting in her rocking chair in the living room, her old, worn copy of the Bible open in her hands, and the radio was still on.
He heard a few commercial breaks before he finally heard footsteps down the stairs. Noah might have stared when Jackson came into view, but he had never seen a boy he could describe as pretty before. Jackson had on dark jeans and a bright t-shirt that was stretched tight across his chest and shoulders, and make-up made his eyes look bigger and bluer than Noah had ever seen them.
Noah realized he had stood when Jackson walked into the kitchen, though he hadn't said a thing, and he could feel Miss June watching them from her seat in the living room. "You look nice," he said. "Really nice."
Noah saw Jackson glance down at his bare arms and he wondered if he should have asked Miss June if he could borrow one of Isaac's shirts.
It surprised him - stunned him, really - when Jackson smiled. "So do you."
"You ready to go?"
"Yeah."
They told Miss June they were heading out, and Noah held the door open for Jackson when they left.
"Is there anywhere in particular you want to go? I doubt anything's changed much in three years."
"Those back roads you mentioned sound nice," Jackson answered, smiling when Noah held the passenger side door of his truck open. He drove an old 2011 blue Ford Super Duty; the outside looked pretty beat up and it was missing the tailgate, but Noah had kept everything running under the hood, and the radio and speakers inside were up to date.
Jackson started playing with the radio when Noah started the truck; it was already on the station they usually listened to, but he flipped through Noah's other presets before settling back on what it had originally been.
Noah saw that Jackson had painted his finger nails a bright blue that he knew, without looking, matched his hair and eyes.
It took them a minute or two to reach the end of the driveway, but the commercials were over by the time they reached the highway, and he flipped the headlights on before he pulled out onto the road.
It was dark enough for the stars to start showing, and the weather was nice enough that Noah rolled the windows down and turned the radio up. They had to stop to fuel the truck up, and Noah refused to let Jackson help pay for that or the snacks they bought. Both of them were still full from supper, but they didn't know how late they'd be out. Better to stock up now.
When they got back out on the road, Jackson toed off his shoes and socks and rested his feet on the dashboard, and Noah saw that his toenails were the same blue as his fingernails. They listened to the radio until they pulled off the blacktop road, before Jackson turned it down and they talked as they cruised around.
Noah told him about how he started working on Jackson's family's farm. He had been seventeen and travelling through town, and heard that Isaac had needed help. Noah had strong arms and a truck - still did - and the job offered room and board. It seemed like a good deal, and he had never seen a good reason to leave.
Jackson told him about New York, the difference of there compared to here, the tattoo shop he worked at, and all the people he knew. He talked a lot about Chloe (that had been the name of the friend that had come with him from New York for Isaac's, Noah remembered. She left two days after he got back to the farm and he didn't see much of her for the first, so he couldn't say much about her) and her family and friends. Jackson's other family and his friends, from the way he talked about them.
Before he knew it, they had been driving around for almost an hour, just cruising and talking. It took Noah a moment to think of where they were. After he figured it out, he sped up a bit until they went around a curve and came to an open, empty field that didn't have much of a fence. It was easy for Noah to slowly drive over the ditch and into it, and Jackson didn't say much about it, other than to ask who owned the land.
Noah only shrugged at that, and parked somewhere that had a good view of the stars. He killed the engine but left the windows down and the radio playing. Jackson was the one to climb out of the truck first, and Noah followed him. They climbed onto the back of the truck and leaned against the back window to watch the stars and talk some more.
And Jackson seemed willing to talk about everything; he told Noah about the school he had gone to, and the plays that his friends had been in. He talked about the things he had painted and tattoos he had designed, showed Noah pictures on his cell phone for all of them, and even Noah could tell that they were good. Everything was done very whimsical, like a fairy tale, and it was charming. He could see what Isaac meant about Jackson having talent.
Somewhere along the line, Noah started talking about himself. He told Jackson about how his father, a man he barely remembered, died when he was young. He told him how he dropped out of high school his sophomore year to get his GED and find a job to help his mama out with the bills. Then his mama got sick and didn't make it, and most of their savings went into paying off the bills and making sure she had a good funeral. He travelled around, looking for work after that, and found it pretty quick thanks to Jackson's family.
It was chilly by that time, and he didn't know how long they'd been sitting in the back of the truck for, on whoever's property this was. "Do you wanna go somewhere and eat?" he asked. They hadn't really touched what they bought earlier.
"Sure."
Noah rolled the windows up when they got back in the cab, and tried to think of where to go when they pulled back onto the road.
"There's a park nearby, I think," Jackson suggested. "They don't ever lock the gates. At least, they didn't the last time I was here."
"Worth a shot." Noah thought he knew what park Jackson was talking about. He had never been to it, as far as he remembered. Still. "Tell me if I'm going the wrong way."
Jackson grinned and turned up the radio. "I don't think you are." He smiled as a song he obviously liked started playing, humming along with it, and Noah forced himself to look back at the road.
The gates at the park weren't even closed, probably because they weren't the first people to be there after hours, and he looked at Jackson for where to go once they had pulled in.
Jackson caught his lip ring between his teeth as he thought, and Noah tried not to stare. "There's a playground near the back. It used to have some picnic tables. I don't see why they wouldn't still be there."
He only nodded and drove towards the back. He saw a few other trucks parked near a baseball field, but the playground was deserted. The picnic tables were there like Jackson said they'd be, and he parked as close to them as the parking lot would allow. He turned the truck off this time, not wanting to drain the battery, and helped Jackson gather up their food before they found a table.
They each took a bench and divided out the food. Noah had more than Jackson did (most of his was 'not vegan' apparently, which struck him as odd since he had seen Jackson eat meat earlier that night) but Jackson didn't seemed bothered by it. He seemed a lot more distracted by the playgrounds, particularly the swing set, and Noah found himself asking, "Y'wanna go play?"
"Maybe." Jackson glanced at him. "You don't think it's silly?"
He shrugged. "Little bit. That don't make it a bad thing. You want to?"
Jackson shrugged himself, a slow smile spreading over his face. "I think I'd rather keep driving, actually."
So they did. The roads were almost completely deserted, and he let himself drive a little faster for it. Jackson never said a thing to stop him.
At some point, he turned down the radio when commercials started and asked, "Why ain't you sadder 'bout Isaac's death, Jackson?"
"Pardon?" he asked, squinting at Noah.
"I can read people pretty good, I think. I can tell you ain't an actor, and you haven't been sad since I've known you."
Jackson didn't immediately answer, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing; he could be thinking about answering, or he could be thinking of how to politely ask that they go home now. It was past three in the morning, he could easily use that.
"My parents had me when they were older," Jackson surprised him. "By the time I was old enough to start..." He trailed off for a moment, simply gesturing to himself, and Noah again thought that he was damn pretty for a boy. "By that time, Pa was old enough to be 'gainst it. Mama was understandin' - she was the one that looked at my ideas for my first tattoos and took me to get 'em when I had the money saved up - and when I came out... He said he could least tolerate it, but I could tell he was lyin'. I have a lotta feelings 'bout my pa. Sad is just too far down the list to bother me right now."
What would his mama had said, if he'd told her the truth before she passed? If she hadn't already known. Sometimes he wondered. Noah caught Jackson's eye before he answered him. "Isaac talked about you. A lot. He told me that you had a real talent, with your art, and that's why he never went to New York and tried to bring you home. He figured it'd be your best shot."
Jackson stared at him, wide-eyed. "I never got to tell him I start at Cooper Union in the fall."
He'd have to ask what that was later. "You think he doesn't know?" he asked instead and glanced down at the cross that Jackson had worn around his neck every day since Noah had known him.
Jackson followed Noah's gaze, and lifted the pendant up to see it better in the moonlight coming through the truck windows. "I hadn't thought that he would want to listen."
He pulled off the road and into the grass, far away that nobody risked hitting them, just in case someone did come along. "I'd think He would make him listen. Isaac was always quick to obey the Lord," Noah said with a grin pulling at his lips.
Jackson laughed a little, before he opened the door and stepped out of the truck. "I'll only be a minute or two."
"I'll keep the headlights on."
"Mighty kind of you."
Noah made sure they were set to low-beams as Jackson shut the door and walked a little ways in front of the truck. Noah saw him get on his knees and bow his head before he looked away and turned the radio back up to see if the commercials were over. Luckily they were, and it was easy enough to pass the time until Jackson stood and brushed off the shins of his pants before he walked back to the truck and climbed back in.
He surprised Noah again when he smiled at him. "Let's drive somewhere else."
The only spot he knew to take him, other than back home, was the lake where he went fishing every other Sunday afternoon. It was usually a half hour drive if he was leaving from the farm, but it'd be double that from here. Noah glanced at the clock on the dash of the truck. Half past three.
They'd make it back in time.
The radio played a lot of songs that Jackson apparently knew on the drive there. He sang along with some of them, not very loudly, but his voice was alright. Noah wouldn't admit it later, but he joined in for a few songs; mostly, he tried to keep his eyes on the road and off of Jackson. It was a good thing that these roads were deserted at this time of night and that he knew them like the back of his hand, because he didn't do that good of a job at it.
He backed his truck to the edge of the lake, where he usually backed the small boat he had into, and put the emergency brake on before they got out. He left the radio on and they left the doors open so they could listen. Other than that, it was just the sound of the frogs and crickets when they sat in the back of the truck and looked out over the water.
"It's pretty out here," Jackson said.
Noah nodded. It was. He was used to seeing it with the sun overhead, or in the rain, but he had never really seen it at night. "Must be the moonlight that does that," he answered. He glanced away, feeling foolish.
Jackson kissed him when he looked back. It took him enough by surprise that he froze. Jackson's lips were soft and a little chapped, and his lip ring was a warm pressure against the corner of Noah's mouth. He felt Jackson start to pull away before he kissed him back. Noah didn't have any idea how to kiss a man, so he grabbed the back of Jackson's neck, threading his fingers through his hair, and let Jackson take the lead for it.
When he felt the tip of Jackson's tongue trace over his bottom lip, Noah wrapped his other arm around Jackson's shoulders to pull him close, and Jackson clutched at Noah's back as the kiss deepened. He felt dizzy, almost feverish when they pulled apart to catch their breath, though neither of them seemed willing to pull back completely; Noah kept his arms around Jackson's shoulders, and Jackson rested his hands on Noah's chest.
This was getting dangerous, because he was thinking that he had a few blankets in the truck, and the back wasn't that uncomfortable. When Jackson leaned in and kissed him again, it was tempting enough to make his fingers itch. It was hard to pull away when he did, but it seemed like the smarter decision. Jackson was nice. He was worth more than the back of his truck.
Luckily, Jackson smiled instead of asking why he stopped, and Noah stared again. He needed to cool off. "Come on," he said as he started to untie his boots. He tucked his socks inside them before he tossed them into the back of the truck. "I feel like wadin'."
Jackson laughed as Noah rolled the legs of his jeans up. Noah noticed that when Jackson had a tattoo on the back of one calf when he did the same. In the moonlight, he could only make out bold lines and soft colors. It took him a minute to realize it was wisteria flowering on a vine.
"How many tattoos do you have?" he asked as they picked their way over the gravel to the water. The wisteria was the fourth one he knew about. He had seen the ones on Jackson's arms as soon as he met (Noah particularly liked the verse from the book of John that was on the inside of his right forearm), and the peach tree on his chest since it was sometimes near impossible to work in the Georgia sun with a shirt on.
"You've seen 'em all," Jackson said. "I'll prob'ly get some more eventually. Don't know what of yet."
The water wasn't so cold that wading into the lake was a problem. Noah knew that the bank went out for about ten feet, barely deep enough for a boat to float, before it dropped off into deeper water. He stopped Jackson before he walked off into the drop by grabbing his arm, and suddenly Jackson was in front of him, sliding an arm around his waist to pull him close and kiss him deeply. Noah shivered and grabbed Jackson's hips, his head spinning a bit.
He was reluctant to pull away, but he lifted Jackson up when he did, just enough to toss him back into deeper water. Jackson yelped before he hit the water and sank, and he splashed viciously at Noah, laughing, when he reappeared. He answered with a splash of his own, before Jackson found his footing on the bank again and they were in an all out war.
By the time it was over, Noah had no idea who won, and he didn't think Jackson did either. They were both drenched and laughing, and Noah had to help Jackson stumble back up to the truck. The night had cooled down enough to send goosebumps crawling over his skin, and was quick to dig a few blankets out of the toolbox in the back of the truck.
He placed most of them over Jackson's shoulders, keeping one for himself. "We should probably be getting' back," he said. Noah ran a hand through his hair, shivering when cold water ran down his neck. "The truck has a good heater, anyway."
Jackson wrapped the blankets around himself, water dripping from his hair and running down his face. "Okay," he answered, smiling, and Noah kissed him first that time.
He got his boots out of the bed of the truck before they got back in, and turned the heater on once the truck was started and they had pulled away from the lake. It surprised him only a little bit when Jackson put the middle console up and slid over to lean against him. It wasn't enough to keep him from resting an arm across Jackson's shoulders.
They made it home just before sunrise.
Colors: Tyrian Purple 17. chariot of the sun god, Alice Blue 7. begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop, Shell Pink 6. ammonite (Some memories stay fossilized in your mind.)
Styles and Supplies: Paint by Numbers (Kat's), Pastels (my gen+romance card; G4: first time), Acrylic (sinuous), Stain ("Don't try to solve serious matters in the middle of the night." - Philip Dick), Brush (viva voce), Modeling Clay (#142: battle), Oils (with predictable results), Chalk (Flood Play)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,830
Story: Second Genesis; the title of this piece is 'I Don't Want This Night To End.'
Summary: Noah and Jackson's first date.
All The Notes: Takes place in June 2035. The title is taken from a song of the same name by Luke Bryan. If anyone is interested in what radio station everyone is listening to in this piece, I tried my best make it here. This is not at all how I planned this to end, but Noah stopped here and just absolutely refused to talk more, and I've given up. (Judge me as you will.) I also apologize for slight time warps.
The sun was close to setting when Noah and Jackson - he was s'pose to be 'Jax', according to Miss June, but Jackson said 'Jackson' when he introduced himself, so it had stuck - started heading back toward the house. They had been out on the far side of the property, fixing a fence line near the woods, and he imagined the sun would be gone completely by the time they got back.
"You goin' into town tonight?" Jackson asked, startling him out of his thoughts.
Jackson's hair was distracting; the sunlight hadn't started dimming too much yet, and it was about as blue as anything could be. Wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it still took Noah a moment to answer. "For anythin' in particular?"
"S'Friday night. I thought 'bout everybody went into town on Friday night."
"Ain't much into goin' into town," he shrugged. If he was lying, he'd only be half-lying. He didn't mind going to honky-tonks, but he wasn't much into dancing with women anymore and he wasn't up to dealing with eventual questions about why.
"Then what do you do on Friday nights?" Jackson asked, looking at him from - not from under his lashes. Out from the corner of his eye, if anything.
Noah couldn't help but notice that Jackson's eyes and his hair were somehow the same color blue. It took him a moment to answer again. "Drive 'round a bit. I know a lotta back roads, so there ain't too many other cars, usually." That was all he meant to say. Somehow, he kept going. "You can go, if you want."
Jackson smiled, distracting him again. "That sounds nice."
They didn't talk much more than that. Like he thought, the sun had set by the time they reached the house, and Miss June had supper waiting on the table. They both headed for the kitchen sink, since Miss June never let anyone sit down for a meal if they didn't wash up first.
"Did you get the fence fixed, boys?" she asked after Jackson said grace and they had sat down, Jackson and Miss June facing each other, and Noah at the end; the chair at the head of the table would have been Isaac's.
Jackson was the one to answer her, which was fine with Noah. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he noticed that chicken and dumplings were the main course. Now he was mostly focused on eating at a pace that his mama would have considered polite. Jackson's leg brushed against his under the table, and Noah looked at him, suddenly paying attention.
"And then," Jackson was saying, "Noah invited me to go ridin' 'round with him."
Hell. Noah felt the back of his neck burn when he glanced over at Miss June and found her looking at him like she knew something he didn't.
"Just make sure to come back in time to sleep for a bit," she said. "Tomorrow might be Saturday, but there are still chores that need to be done." She focused on Jackson before she kept talking, and Noah silently went back to eating, and trying to figure out what time 'in time to sleep for a bit' was.
The rest of dinner went like it usually did, with a lot of comfortable silence and the music from the small radio that Miss June kept in the window above the kitchen sink. Jackson excused himself to 'freshen up', he said, after the dishes were cleared. He disappeared up the stairs, and Noah glanced down at his own clothes that were dirty and torn from that day's work.
"If you want to go shower, you'll be done 'fore he is. He always takes his time," Miss June said.
"Ma'am?" he asked, not sure what she meant.
The look she gave him in response could have been called fondly exasperated. "He's treatin' this like a date. He's expectin' you to do the same."
Noah felt his ears burn that time, and he avoided her eyes when he turned to walk for the downstairs bathroom.
He was quick with his shower, and decided against shaving. There weren't many clothes in the downstairs closet of the guest bedroom where he slept, mostly old pairs of jeans and shirts with the sleeves taken off, so Noah just found the cleanest ones he could and pulled on his work boots, his only pair of shoes. His hair was still damp when he walked back into the kitchen to sit down and wait for Jackson. He could see Miss June sitting in her rocking chair in the living room, her old, worn copy of the Bible open in her hands, and the radio was still on.
He heard a few commercial breaks before he finally heard footsteps down the stairs. Noah might have stared when Jackson came into view, but he had never seen a boy he could describe as pretty before. Jackson had on dark jeans and a bright t-shirt that was stretched tight across his chest and shoulders, and make-up made his eyes look bigger and bluer than Noah had ever seen them.
Noah realized he had stood when Jackson walked into the kitchen, though he hadn't said a thing, and he could feel Miss June watching them from her seat in the living room. "You look nice," he said. "Really nice."
Noah saw Jackson glance down at his bare arms and he wondered if he should have asked Miss June if he could borrow one of Isaac's shirts.
It surprised him - stunned him, really - when Jackson smiled. "So do you."
"You ready to go?"
"Yeah."
They told Miss June they were heading out, and Noah held the door open for Jackson when they left.
"Is there anywhere in particular you want to go? I doubt anything's changed much in three years."
"Those back roads you mentioned sound nice," Jackson answered, smiling when Noah held the passenger side door of his truck open. He drove an old 2011 blue Ford Super Duty; the outside looked pretty beat up and it was missing the tailgate, but Noah had kept everything running under the hood, and the radio and speakers inside were up to date.
Jackson started playing with the radio when Noah started the truck; it was already on the station they usually listened to, but he flipped through Noah's other presets before settling back on what it had originally been.
Noah saw that Jackson had painted his finger nails a bright blue that he knew, without looking, matched his hair and eyes.
It took them a minute or two to reach the end of the driveway, but the commercials were over by the time they reached the highway, and he flipped the headlights on before he pulled out onto the road.
It was dark enough for the stars to start showing, and the weather was nice enough that Noah rolled the windows down and turned the radio up. They had to stop to fuel the truck up, and Noah refused to let Jackson help pay for that or the snacks they bought. Both of them were still full from supper, but they didn't know how late they'd be out. Better to stock up now.
When they got back out on the road, Jackson toed off his shoes and socks and rested his feet on the dashboard, and Noah saw that his toenails were the same blue as his fingernails. They listened to the radio until they pulled off the blacktop road, before Jackson turned it down and they talked as they cruised around.
Noah told him about how he started working on Jackson's family's farm. He had been seventeen and travelling through town, and heard that Isaac had needed help. Noah had strong arms and a truck - still did - and the job offered room and board. It seemed like a good deal, and he had never seen a good reason to leave.
Jackson told him about New York, the difference of there compared to here, the tattoo shop he worked at, and all the people he knew. He talked a lot about Chloe (that had been the name of the friend that had come with him from New York for Isaac's, Noah remembered. She left two days after he got back to the farm and he didn't see much of her for the first, so he couldn't say much about her) and her family and friends. Jackson's other family and his friends, from the way he talked about them.
Before he knew it, they had been driving around for almost an hour, just cruising and talking. It took Noah a moment to think of where they were. After he figured it out, he sped up a bit until they went around a curve and came to an open, empty field that didn't have much of a fence. It was easy for Noah to slowly drive over the ditch and into it, and Jackson didn't say much about it, other than to ask who owned the land.
Noah only shrugged at that, and parked somewhere that had a good view of the stars. He killed the engine but left the windows down and the radio playing. Jackson was the one to climb out of the truck first, and Noah followed him. They climbed onto the back of the truck and leaned against the back window to watch the stars and talk some more.
And Jackson seemed willing to talk about everything; he told Noah about the school he had gone to, and the plays that his friends had been in. He talked about the things he had painted and tattoos he had designed, showed Noah pictures on his cell phone for all of them, and even Noah could tell that they were good. Everything was done very whimsical, like a fairy tale, and it was charming. He could see what Isaac meant about Jackson having talent.
Somewhere along the line, Noah started talking about himself. He told Jackson about how his father, a man he barely remembered, died when he was young. He told him how he dropped out of high school his sophomore year to get his GED and find a job to help his mama out with the bills. Then his mama got sick and didn't make it, and most of their savings went into paying off the bills and making sure she had a good funeral. He travelled around, looking for work after that, and found it pretty quick thanks to Jackson's family.
It was chilly by that time, and he didn't know how long they'd been sitting in the back of the truck for, on whoever's property this was. "Do you wanna go somewhere and eat?" he asked. They hadn't really touched what they bought earlier.
"Sure."
Noah rolled the windows up when they got back in the cab, and tried to think of where to go when they pulled back onto the road.
"There's a park nearby, I think," Jackson suggested. "They don't ever lock the gates. At least, they didn't the last time I was here."
"Worth a shot." Noah thought he knew what park Jackson was talking about. He had never been to it, as far as he remembered. Still. "Tell me if I'm going the wrong way."
Jackson grinned and turned up the radio. "I don't think you are." He smiled as a song he obviously liked started playing, humming along with it, and Noah forced himself to look back at the road.
The gates at the park weren't even closed, probably because they weren't the first people to be there after hours, and he looked at Jackson for where to go once they had pulled in.
Jackson caught his lip ring between his teeth as he thought, and Noah tried not to stare. "There's a playground near the back. It used to have some picnic tables. I don't see why they wouldn't still be there."
He only nodded and drove towards the back. He saw a few other trucks parked near a baseball field, but the playground was deserted. The picnic tables were there like Jackson said they'd be, and he parked as close to them as the parking lot would allow. He turned the truck off this time, not wanting to drain the battery, and helped Jackson gather up their food before they found a table.
They each took a bench and divided out the food. Noah had more than Jackson did (most of his was 'not vegan' apparently, which struck him as odd since he had seen Jackson eat meat earlier that night) but Jackson didn't seemed bothered by it. He seemed a lot more distracted by the playgrounds, particularly the swing set, and Noah found himself asking, "Y'wanna go play?"
"Maybe." Jackson glanced at him. "You don't think it's silly?"
He shrugged. "Little bit. That don't make it a bad thing. You want to?"
Jackson shrugged himself, a slow smile spreading over his face. "I think I'd rather keep driving, actually."
So they did. The roads were almost completely deserted, and he let himself drive a little faster for it. Jackson never said a thing to stop him.
At some point, he turned down the radio when commercials started and asked, "Why ain't you sadder 'bout Isaac's death, Jackson?"
"Pardon?" he asked, squinting at Noah.
"I can read people pretty good, I think. I can tell you ain't an actor, and you haven't been sad since I've known you."
Jackson didn't immediately answer, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing; he could be thinking about answering, or he could be thinking of how to politely ask that they go home now. It was past three in the morning, he could easily use that.
"My parents had me when they were older," Jackson surprised him. "By the time I was old enough to start..." He trailed off for a moment, simply gesturing to himself, and Noah again thought that he was damn pretty for a boy. "By that time, Pa was old enough to be 'gainst it. Mama was understandin' - she was the one that looked at my ideas for my first tattoos and took me to get 'em when I had the money saved up - and when I came out... He said he could least tolerate it, but I could tell he was lyin'. I have a lotta feelings 'bout my pa. Sad is just too far down the list to bother me right now."
What would his mama had said, if he'd told her the truth before she passed? If she hadn't already known. Sometimes he wondered. Noah caught Jackson's eye before he answered him. "Isaac talked about you. A lot. He told me that you had a real talent, with your art, and that's why he never went to New York and tried to bring you home. He figured it'd be your best shot."
Jackson stared at him, wide-eyed. "I never got to tell him I start at Cooper Union in the fall."
He'd have to ask what that was later. "You think he doesn't know?" he asked instead and glanced down at the cross that Jackson had worn around his neck every day since Noah had known him.
Jackson followed Noah's gaze, and lifted the pendant up to see it better in the moonlight coming through the truck windows. "I hadn't thought that he would want to listen."
He pulled off the road and into the grass, far away that nobody risked hitting them, just in case someone did come along. "I'd think He would make him listen. Isaac was always quick to obey the Lord," Noah said with a grin pulling at his lips.
Jackson laughed a little, before he opened the door and stepped out of the truck. "I'll only be a minute or two."
"I'll keep the headlights on."
"Mighty kind of you."
Noah made sure they were set to low-beams as Jackson shut the door and walked a little ways in front of the truck. Noah saw him get on his knees and bow his head before he looked away and turned the radio back up to see if the commercials were over. Luckily they were, and it was easy enough to pass the time until Jackson stood and brushed off the shins of his pants before he walked back to the truck and climbed back in.
He surprised Noah again when he smiled at him. "Let's drive somewhere else."
The only spot he knew to take him, other than back home, was the lake where he went fishing every other Sunday afternoon. It was usually a half hour drive if he was leaving from the farm, but it'd be double that from here. Noah glanced at the clock on the dash of the truck. Half past three.
They'd make it back in time.
The radio played a lot of songs that Jackson apparently knew on the drive there. He sang along with some of them, not very loudly, but his voice was alright. Noah wouldn't admit it later, but he joined in for a few songs; mostly, he tried to keep his eyes on the road and off of Jackson. It was a good thing that these roads were deserted at this time of night and that he knew them like the back of his hand, because he didn't do that good of a job at it.
He backed his truck to the edge of the lake, where he usually backed the small boat he had into, and put the emergency brake on before they got out. He left the radio on and they left the doors open so they could listen. Other than that, it was just the sound of the frogs and crickets when they sat in the back of the truck and looked out over the water.
"It's pretty out here," Jackson said.
Noah nodded. It was. He was used to seeing it with the sun overhead, or in the rain, but he had never really seen it at night. "Must be the moonlight that does that," he answered. He glanced away, feeling foolish.
Jackson kissed him when he looked back. It took him enough by surprise that he froze. Jackson's lips were soft and a little chapped, and his lip ring was a warm pressure against the corner of Noah's mouth. He felt Jackson start to pull away before he kissed him back. Noah didn't have any idea how to kiss a man, so he grabbed the back of Jackson's neck, threading his fingers through his hair, and let Jackson take the lead for it.
When he felt the tip of Jackson's tongue trace over his bottom lip, Noah wrapped his other arm around Jackson's shoulders to pull him close, and Jackson clutched at Noah's back as the kiss deepened. He felt dizzy, almost feverish when they pulled apart to catch their breath, though neither of them seemed willing to pull back completely; Noah kept his arms around Jackson's shoulders, and Jackson rested his hands on Noah's chest.
This was getting dangerous, because he was thinking that he had a few blankets in the truck, and the back wasn't that uncomfortable. When Jackson leaned in and kissed him again, it was tempting enough to make his fingers itch. It was hard to pull away when he did, but it seemed like the smarter decision. Jackson was nice. He was worth more than the back of his truck.
Luckily, Jackson smiled instead of asking why he stopped, and Noah stared again. He needed to cool off. "Come on," he said as he started to untie his boots. He tucked his socks inside them before he tossed them into the back of the truck. "I feel like wadin'."
Jackson laughed as Noah rolled the legs of his jeans up. Noah noticed that when Jackson had a tattoo on the back of one calf when he did the same. In the moonlight, he could only make out bold lines and soft colors. It took him a minute to realize it was wisteria flowering on a vine.
"How many tattoos do you have?" he asked as they picked their way over the gravel to the water. The wisteria was the fourth one he knew about. He had seen the ones on Jackson's arms as soon as he met (Noah particularly liked the verse from the book of John that was on the inside of his right forearm), and the peach tree on his chest since it was sometimes near impossible to work in the Georgia sun with a shirt on.
"You've seen 'em all," Jackson said. "I'll prob'ly get some more eventually. Don't know what of yet."
The water wasn't so cold that wading into the lake was a problem. Noah knew that the bank went out for about ten feet, barely deep enough for a boat to float, before it dropped off into deeper water. He stopped Jackson before he walked off into the drop by grabbing his arm, and suddenly Jackson was in front of him, sliding an arm around his waist to pull him close and kiss him deeply. Noah shivered and grabbed Jackson's hips, his head spinning a bit.
He was reluctant to pull away, but he lifted Jackson up when he did, just enough to toss him back into deeper water. Jackson yelped before he hit the water and sank, and he splashed viciously at Noah, laughing, when he reappeared. He answered with a splash of his own, before Jackson found his footing on the bank again and they were in an all out war.
By the time it was over, Noah had no idea who won, and he didn't think Jackson did either. They were both drenched and laughing, and Noah had to help Jackson stumble back up to the truck. The night had cooled down enough to send goosebumps crawling over his skin, and was quick to dig a few blankets out of the toolbox in the back of the truck.
He placed most of them over Jackson's shoulders, keeping one for himself. "We should probably be getting' back," he said. Noah ran a hand through his hair, shivering when cold water ran down his neck. "The truck has a good heater, anyway."
Jackson wrapped the blankets around himself, water dripping from his hair and running down his face. "Okay," he answered, smiling, and Noah kissed him first that time.
He got his boots out of the bed of the truck before they got back in, and turned the heater on once the truck was started and they had pulled away from the lake. It surprised him only a little bit when Jackson put the middle console up and slid over to lean against him. It wasn't enough to keep him from resting an arm across Jackson's shoulders.
They made it home just before sunrise.
no subject
The whole thing is well done. Even if it's not the ending you wanted, you can be proud of this.
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)
no subject
(no subject)