A/N: Wow, I got a lot of great feedback from reviewers. :) Thanks so much! There were lots of requests for a sequel, which I'm kind of going to do. I decided that I might just have various oneshots, most of which will take place on a Saturday date to keep with the theme.
Does this seem like a good idea? Also, do you think I should do another fluffy oneshot or more of a serious oneshot for the next chapter? I have ideas for both. ;)
Please review! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Were The World Mine
Jonathon winced when he got up from his couch to greet Timothy. This alone was enough to make Timothy very suspicious. Then, Jonathon hesitated before returning Timothy's affectionate hug, which was also very unusual. And with Timothy's powers of observation he noticed that Jonathon hesitated before sinking back into the couch.
He knew it. That boy cut himself up at practice again.
Timothy flopped into the available space next to Jonathon. "So, how has rugby been going?" he asked innocently, knowing in his gut that there was a reason he never liked rugby. Jonathon shrugged, a subtle movement much more restrained than his usual exaggerated movements.
"Pretty good." Jonathon paused, apparently trying to think of a good story. Timothy waited patiently and tried not to act like he was hanging on every word. "I made a good block yesterday," Jonathon finally said. "This great big huge guy was rushing my buddy, but I stopped him."
"Oh, that's good. My tough guy," Timothy grinned, elbowing Jonathon gently in the side. He saw Jonathon tense and frowned again. "It didn't hurt, did it?"
Jonathon shook his head but didn't quite meet Timothy's gaze. A dead give-away. "Nah, not really. I've got a bit of a bruise, but what else is new?"
"You always have bruises." Timothy knew that his tone was borderline nag and forced himself to stop short. He could tell that Jonathon wasn't in the mood and he wouldn't get anywhere if he pissed Jonathon off.
Still, he wanted some answers. He just knew that Jonathon was hiding something, and usually when Jonathon had something to hide it had to do with an injury he didn't want Timothy to worry about. Timothy had learned better than to ask out-right and had taken to craftier methods of getting Jonathon to be honest.
"What do you say we do something else?" Timothy asked as Jonathon reached for the television remote. His hand hovered over the remote as he digested this suggestion. "I was thinking we could play a board game or… doesn't your dorm have a foosball thing set up downstairs?"
Jonathon looked shocked and, honestly, reluctant. "You don't have to do that, Tim. I know you hate foosball. And board games make you twitchy." Timothy found himself frowning when Jonathon sent a casual wink his direction. "We can just sit and watch T.V."
Timothy stared at Jonathon for a moment, who pretended not to notice, as he tried to think of some other test to confirm his suspicions. Now he was almost positive that Jonathon was hurting badly. He was never this gallant when it came to protecting Timothy's interests. In fact, Jonathon would usually jump at the chance to get Timothy to do something active for a change instead of continuing to sit on the couch like a lazy bum. It was usually a source of argument between the two of them.
"I'm just tired, Timothy," Jonathon wearily tried to explain, unable to bear the staring anymore. "Now, don't stare at me. It's kind of creepy."
"Sorry," Timothy mumbled, a little offended. He knew he shouldn't be offended, but such a remark usually stung.
Jonathon noticed and winced guiltily. "I'm just not in a very good mood," he sighed. "I fucked up my English exam and now I'm going to have to do weeks of extra credit to keep my grade passing." He shrugged with a wide motion and then noticeably flinched, jerking his shoulder back down to an even level. "Sorry, Tim. It's not your fault."
"Oh my god!" Timothy exclaimed, briefly forgetting about Jonathon's physical woes when presented with this new information "That's awful, Jonathon. Why didn't you say anything?" Jonathon just shrugged again, back to the subtle movement instead of the exaggerated one. "I'm so sorry." Instinctually, Timothy started to scoot closer to take Jonathon's hand or rest his head on Jonathon's shoulder.
It was in this motion that Timothy got an awful, terrible idea. He glanced down at Jonathon's side, which Jonathon was unconsciously protecting by keeping his arm pressed firmly against his ribcage, and knew the perfect way to expose the injury.
Timothy got a little closer, now in a good position to press his nose against the side of Jonathon's head if he wanted. He leaned forward and kissed Jonathon's neck, lightly, and brought a hand up the length of Jonathon's arm. He was sure to be careful, not wanting to make Jonathon hurt too much, but couldn't help but smile when he felt Jonathon jump in surprise.
"What are you doing?" Jonathon demanded, trying to keep very still.
Timothy chuckled. "I just feel bad that you had such an awful week. Maybe I'm trying to make you feel better." Jonathon swallowed and turned his head a little to face Timothy again. He kissed Timothy carefully, almost completely distracting Timothy from his goal.
"That's really sweet of you," Jonathon said, smiling honestly for the first time that afternoon. "I'm so lucky to have a guy like you around. But I'm really—"
Timothy quickly shut Jonathon up by returning his lips back to Jonathon's neck. He knew that the next words out of Jonathon's mouth would try and deter Timothy from his goal and this was probably his last chance. He pressed even closer against Jonathon, relentless, and experienced wonderful victory when he felt Jonathon give up trying to control himself and twist to meet Timothy head-on.
The result took the both of them by surprise. Jonathon sucked his breath in so loudly it was almost like a shout and tried to push Timothy off of him (but ended up pushing him of the couch). In a second, Jonathon had jerked back into an upright position, nearly gasping for air. As Timothy regained his balance, Jonathon quickly clutched his ribs with shaky hands.
"I knew it!" Timothy shouted, almost feeling giddy with having his suspicions confirmed. However, when he tried to climb back onto the couch Timothy was a little horrified, though mostly ashamed, to see that Jonathon's face had turned an awful shade of gray and that his teeth were gritted tightly against pain. This wasn't one of the usual injuries, Timothy could tell right away.
"What's wrong?" Timothy demanded, hesitantly coming close again. He was no longer smiling. "Jonathon, what the fuck is going on?"
Jonathon opened one eye warily before clamping it shut again. "It's nothing. I just got a little banged up in practice, like I said. Don't worry about it."
Timothy snorted in disbelief, gently moved Jonathon's hands, and then pulled Jonathon's shirt up almost over his head. There, he saw the proof for himself. A pitch-black bruise ran from Jonathon's waist up to his rib area. Two of the ribs seemed to be pushing out a little further than the others.
"Jonathon!" Timothy didn't even care that he sounded like a nag. "Jonathon, you have to go to an emergency room. You might have broken something!" Timothy shook his head in disbelief. He had been hoping for a cut or a gash, nothing too serious. Now he was starting to have a full panic attack. "This is so irresponsible! How long have you been like this?"
Jonathon ignored the question. "If I get laid up I could lose my sport scholarship," he snapped, yanking his shirt back down and was nearly immobile once more from the pain of the action. To this, he could only let out a disgruntled groan while he tried to recover.
Timothy tried his best to ignore the pained sound. He took a deep breath and attempted to push his hysteria to the side. For once, it worked. "Maybe you only cracked them," he tried to reason, his voice strained but calm. "That takes no time at all to heal, I swear. You just… you have to get this looked at."
Jonathon looked like he might come up with some other excuse for Timothy to be wrong. However, he just sagged in defeat, looking more helpless than Timothy had ever seen him. "I know," he managed to reply, the color coming in small increments back to his face.
Timothy saw this acceptance and was more than a little surprised. Jonathan was usually so against visiting doctors or hospitals that he would walk around with a sprained ankle all day without a complaint. It was something that Timothy himself had never quite understood. He decided not to gloat about his victory, though. Instead, Timothy just managed to put on an encouraging smile and stood up from the couch.
"Come on, let's get your ass up," Timothy instructed, taking a hold of Jonathon's good arm. Wincing, Jonathon allowed himself to be pulled up and nearly fell forward onto Timothy once he was. Instead of righting himself, however, Jonathon leaned against Timothy for a minute, completely relaxed. Timothy froze, a little unsure of what to do or what exactly was going on. For a moment he feared that Jonathon had completely passed out.
"I don't know what I would do without you bitching at me all the time," Jonathon sighed. He never knew that he could be so grateful for something so annoying. "Thanks."
Timothy managed an amused smile at Jonathon's expense. "You'd probably be laying on the floor when your roommate came back, complaining how you haven't been able to get up for food or water for two days," Timothy answered, rubbing Jonathon's good shoulder comfortingly. "You're so stubborn."
Jonathon gave a muffled agreement and nearly laughed. The sharp sting of pain held back the laughter, however, and he remembered that he had to keep his upper body still. He managed to pull himself back away from Timothy by himself but let Timothy support him as they headed for the door.
"So, any chance that this'll convince you to give up rugby?" Timothy asked hopefully as he fished around his jean pocket for his car keys. He wanted to be prepared before heading down the stairs. Also, this familiar action helped calm him so he wouldn't start screaming at Jonathon again.
"Not a chance," Jonathon grinned, enjoying the joke. Timothy was always good at making him laugh, even when he was in the worst of moods. "Nice try, though."
"Yeah, well, I can always hope," Timothy sighed, maneuvering the two of them out the door.
Jonathon pulled the door shut and then realized he would have to hobble down the endless hallway, which led to an endless staircase, and suppressed a groan. This was going to be painful. He decided to try and keep in a good mood he would try and make Timothy blush, a move that was a little petty but mostly born out of amusement.
"Hey, by the way," Jonathon began as he limped down the hallway with Timothy. "Nice going with the whole seduction thing." Timothy choked a little, nearly losing his grip on Jonathon's waist. "You're sneaky."
"A guy's got to do what he has to do," Timothy defended himself, feeling a little sheepish. He knew he was blushing but decided there was nothing to be done about it. He also decided not to be apologetic. "It was the only way to get you distracted enough to expose yourself." Jonathon chuckled a little, obviously agreeing.
Once they approached the staircase, however, Jonathon stopped laughing. He stared down the stairs and then looked imploringly up at his boyfriend. "What if I promised to stay in bed for two weeks instead of going to the doctor?"
Timothy shook his head firmly. "I refuse."
Jonathon sighed, rolled his eyes a little, and then bravely made it down his first step. It was painful but he managed to keep from yelping again. "Three weeks?" Timothy smirked and shook his head. "You're killing me."
"Come on you big baby," Timothy encouraged, taking the step with Jonathon. "It won't be so bad."
They made it down several more steps in a concentrated silence. Jonathon was staring down at the upcoming steps worriedly, taking each one with a calculated and careful step. Timothy was full concentrated on Jonathon, trying to determine how much support would be needed for each stair.
"You'll stick around, right?" Jonathon suddenly asked, wincing as he took another step while Timothy tried his best to brace against him. "When we get to the hospital, I mean. Do you have to leave?"
Timothy shook his head and smiled, happy to know that Jonathon wanted him there. "I was planning on being here all day anyway." He squeezed Jonathon's hand when he nearly stumbled going down the third step and let out a great hiss of pain.
"Good." Jonathon waited to continue until after he had successfully gone down the next step. "Doctors freak me out."
Timothy had to strangle a single, hysterical laugh. He sensed it wasn't a laughing matter. "Well, that explains a lot."
Jonathon just got closer to Timothy for support and grunted an affirmative.