Rating: PG 13
Summary: Bobby always ignores his firsts.
Warnings: nah not really, oh wait, yeah they still aren't mine. Dang.
The first time that Bobby looked up at Jack as he came through their front door, nothing but huge eyes in a scared, thin face, he'd felt a pull. Ma called it his 'Older Brother Mode'. He felt the pull stronger then he had in years. The urge to snatch this waif of a supposed teenager away from Ma and hide him in his room made his fingers curl. He'd gone all gruff and made sure to call him a fairy the first chance he had. It was the first time that he'd felt a slap of shame hit him for the look on Jack's face at the nickname. He ignored it.
The first time that Bobby saw the black, purple and blue bruises trimmed in yellow on Jack's chest and back, he'd sworn aloud that he'd track 'those fuckers' down. Jack had pleaded with him for hours before Bobby had stopped pacing and swearing. He grabbed Jack and hugged him fiercely, not hearing Jack's gasp of pain. 'No one will ever hit you again' he vowed. Jack had cried near silent tears while Bobby ignored the muffled sobs and hugged him close through the night.
The first time that Bobby saw Jack smile had been damn near six months after Ma had brought him home. Jack hadn't known that Bobby was watching him. He was always watching him, every chance he had. He blew off friends, girls, nearly all sports, to watch Jack. He'd been watching from across the street, nodding absentmindedly at something a friend said, while observing Jack play with some neighborhood cat. That old cat had been around the park for years. Bobby wasn't sure who it belonged to. On that day, the cat had wound itself around Jack's legs while he watched the other kids play soccer, a wistful expression on his face. The cat had meowed and purred till Jack stroked its dark fur, a smile finally breaking through as he cuddled the animal close to him. Bobby had felt a wave of sorrow for Jack. He ignored this too.
The first time that Bobby felt the urge to kiss Jack had been a few years after the cat in the park. He'd returned from yet another suspension to a near silent house. Ma was out running errands, Angel was gone with friends, and Jerry was out also. Bobby found Jack sprawled out on the floor in his room, pen firmly gripped in his hands as he scribbled down words. Bobby had sat beside him and listened to Jack attentively while he spoke about how he was going to be a writer someday. Or maybe a rock star. He looked into Jack's eyes as he spoke; saw how they gleamed with hope and youth. He saw all that and the urge to kiss those pouty lips left him feeling weak. He ignored it.
The first time that Bobby felt pure jealousy was when he saw Jack pressed up against the side of the house, some big, bulky guy slobbering all over him. He'd stormed over in a fit of rage, yanked the guy clean off of Jack and shoved him towards the driveway. Jack had said nothing, his eyes sad but defiant. Bobby, his chest still heaving from his anger, punched the side of the brick wall, cursing his inability to express himself, his feelings. Jack had wordlessly handed him a smoke, his eyes watching Bobby for any sudden moves. He ignored the silent pleas from Jack's eyes and smoked in utter frustration.
The first time that Bobby had given in and kissed Jack had been right after Ma died. They'd both been in Jack's room, both needing comfort but afraid to ask for it. Bobby had attempted to keep a distance from Jack on the bed, but had given up when he'd felt Jack's tentative hands reach for him. He'd rolled over and their eyes had met. In that instant, Bobby had snarled, then pressed Jack's lips to his. Jack's eyes wide with surprise as Bobby darted his tongue out to trace his lips, he'd relaxed into the embrace and returned the kiss with heat. Bobby ignored the voice in his head that tried to make him listen to reason.
The first time that Bobby had ever been truly terrified was when he could feel Jack's blood pouring out between his fingers. Jack's screams had echoed in his ears for days. He had felt the stares of his brothers as he cursed, near tears, at Jack, willing him to live. He ignored the panic that threatened to drag him down.
The first time that Bobby had fought, really fought, with Jack, they were both screaming at each other. Jack was still recuperating from his hospital stay, a circular wound imprinted in his skin, when Bobby had found him trying to leave the bedroom. They'd fought then as Bobby insisted that Jack return to bed while Jack yelled that he 'wasn't a baby that needed to be coddled'. Bobby had yelled back that clearly he was if letting someone get the better of him in rough neighborhood was any indicator. Jack had frozen, his eyes blank as he struggled for words. Bobby had sworn aloud, realizing the damage he'd just done. He grabbed Jack just as he started screaming back at Bobby, swinging wildly, determined to get out now. Bobby had held on tight until Jack slumped to the ground, still hissing loudly that he hated Bobby. He ignored him.
The first time that Bobby had sex with Jack was a few hours after their blowout fight. Bobby had whispered in Jack's ear, repeating over and over how sorry he was, the years of not being able to express himself gone in that instant. The pain of almost losing Jack, the shock of realizing how much he needed him, the shame of knowing of how much he'd hurt him. Jack had lain limply in Bobby's arms, his throat raw from screaming. Jack had glanced up at Bobby, giving him a watery smile, and saying that he understood. Bobby had laid Jack down on the floor and loved him that night, more tenderly now with Jack than with anyone before. He felt the cold air blowing on their overheated skin as they lay trembling afterwards but he ignored it.