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nevada-wrytes · 4 months

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4th of July

An excerpt from what I'm calling The Jamie and Luke Show. Title is yet to be determined.

Luke was gripping onto Jamie's forearm, as if his life depended on it. His fingers dug into skin and Jamie could feel the reverberations from his trembling hands.

Jamie felt amused at the irony of their situation. He was the one with a missing leg and Luke was still more scared of falling off the roof than him.

Luke noticed his smile and frowned, his voice wavering, “You're way too calm about this.”

Jamie laughed to try and break up the tension. “Relax, like I said, I used to climb up here with my dad every year. There's no way we can fall.”

Luke huffed. “Fine, but if we do, I'm using you as a pillow.”

Although Luke was clearly trying to move past it, Jamie had the sudden urge to tease him. He wanted to see him smile. He wanted to ease away that crease in his brows himself.

“Oh, is someone scared of heights?” He leaned in to poke Luke, “Is the two story building bothering you? Should I fight it for your honor?”

His grin was wide and Jamie knew it looked stupid because Luke rolled his eyes, but did not give in to the taunts. Still his mouth curved up.

Jamie stayed like that, silently watching him, for a while. Luke didn't notice, he was looking at the ground, probably sizing up how much damage he could do if he pushed him off right now. Jamie waited for Like to make a light hearted threat that would propel them into more easy banter and lighten the tension along his frame, but it never came.

Instead, Luke scooted closer, so their sides were lined up perfectly, touching ever square inch. Jamie realized Luke may be a lot more scared than he looked. Now he felt bad for dragging him up here.

He leaned in close and spoke softly, not a whisper, but something low and gentle, “Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights?”

Luke avoided his eyes. “You already knew. Why do you think I never climbed up the slide like you and Viv did on the playground?”

“That's when we were kids!”

Luke shrugged, or, as best as he could while plastered to roof tiles. “It just never went away I guess,” he mumbled.

Jamie frowned. Guilt crept into his perfect plan. The roof was supposed to be romantic-

Suddenly, Luke turned to him and smiled. Then squeezed his hand. Fuck, he was always so perseptive. He could always tell when Jamie was feeling upset and angry or sad. And he'd always find a way to make it better, sometimes at the expense of himself. Did Jamie really deserve him?

“Luke-” Jamie's voice was thick with emotion, the word stuck in his throat. Even if he could make the words come out, he was interrupted by a loud fizz overheard.

“Oh look! It’s starting!”

Above them, the firework show had begun. Bright sparkling trails raced into the dark clear sky and exploded into crimson, green, and gold showers. The night was soon filled with smoke and noise. Jamie was sure it was a wonderful sight, they were so high up it would almost look like they could touch the glowing sparks, but he wouldn't remember how the fireworks looked that night, because he wasn't paying attention to them at all.

He was looking at Luke. At his best friend. At the one person in the world that completes him.

Luke's eyes reflected the shining world around them like a kaleidoscope. They were wide open in pure joy. His smile was brighter than any firework could have been that night. He had only eyes for the sky, so Jamie took his time memorizing every detail of his face as if it was the first time, as if he hadn't done it before and will do it again. He loves him. He loves him. He loves him. His whole body was thrumming with that song.

Jamie inches closer. His heart was beating furiously in his chest, louder than the explosion of rockets above. During a lull in the show, when Luke turned his head towards him, and their faces were mere hairwidths apart, breaths merging, Jamie had the urge in his gut to do something stupid.

But he was always acting stupid, wasn't he?

“Jamie-?” Luke phrased it as a question, couldn't read the intention in Jamie's eyes, didn't understand the silence or the closeness, so Jamie explained the only way he knew how.

He leaned in and pressed their mouths together.

The fireworks show continued overhead, but a greater explosion was happening in Jamie's mind.

He'd dreamed of this, planned this exact moment for weeks, well maybe not exactly how it was supposed to go, he was supposed to have confessed first, but still, his dreams would never compare to being in the moment.

Luke kissed him back with a desperation Jamie didn't even know he had. His hands were soon under his chin, angling his face up so their lips were never apart. Jamie wished he could bring his hands up too, he wanted to run his fingers under Luke's jaw and over his chest and pull him so very, very close, and he soon cursed his decision of choosing the roof, where he needed both hands to keep his balance.

His first kiss, and Jamie never wanted it to end. It felt like a dream. The fireworks filled the sky with shimmering colors that cast them both in a godly light. Luke's body was warm right next to him, warmer than the now cooling night around him, and his lips were soft and chapped from all that time spent chewing off the skin when stressed. It was such a stunning realization, all these little quirks that made Luke who he was, that Jamie knew of previously, but could now experience in a new way, that he almost forgot to breathe. He didn't want it to end. But his need for air betrayed him.

Jamie gasped, and that must have pulled Luke out of whatever trance he was in, because he stopped closing in. They both panted, faces still breaths apart. Jamie stared into his eyes, and this time Luke stared back, mouth agape. His eyes were wide and dark. Disbelieving? Hopeful? His expression seemed so open, so genuine and cute that Jamie had to bite his lip from trying something again.

“Jamie,” Luke whispered, or maybe Jamie imagined it, because his hammering heart and the screeches of the rockets made it near impossible to hear anything.

Jamie opened his mouth without thinking. “Luke, I think I love you.”

His confession was all warbled and came out much too quiet, because Luke just continued staring at him in shock. His gaze dropped from Jamie's eyes to his lips and something stirred in Jamie's gut.

Jamie's head hurt. He thought it was going to explode along with the next firework. Say something, Luke, he thought, Please.

It only took him a second too long to realize Luke was trembling. Luke looked up at him and nervously said, “I want to get down from here.”

#nev writes #the jamie and luke show #oc writing #writing #my writing #writeblr #tehe :3 #best scene to write about them. makes my heart hammer yk #im going to be writing a bunch of scenes then piecing them together so get ready for that!!

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lu-undy · 4 years

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Chapter 35 - SBT

Here it is!

"Oh, hey there, M, wasn't it?"

Mundy nodded at the waitress.

"Yeah."

As soon as he had entered the diner, she had recognised him and welcomed him.

"You've missed L, he was there for lunch with Perle, but he's gone now."

"Ah, I see, but I wasn't lookin' for him. And I don't want to bother him when he's with Pearl. Just wanted some coffee, is all."

"Sure, take a seat."

Mundy went to the table where him and L had some pancakes the other day, L's usual table.

"Would you like anything else with your coffee?"

"Uh… Guess a croissant will do."

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute!"

"Thanks, mate."

And in a minute indeed Victoria was back with not one, but two cups of coffee.

"D'you mind if I take a break with you?" She asked.

"Nah, go ahead." Mundy gestured for her to take a seat and she did, opposite him. "So uh…" He resumed but hesitated. "He came here with Pearl?"

"Yeah, he takes her for lunch here."

"Ah, right… So, you've seen her?"

"Yeah, I did, a few times already. Quite the character she has, eh." Victoria answered.

"What d'you mean?"

"She's always on the defensive with people. The only one she tolerates and is in fact fond of, is L."

"Really?"

"Yeah… She can even be aggressive about it."

Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"But eh," Victoria went on. "I guess it will pass when she grows older."

"She's younger than him?"

"Oh yeah, infinitely younger!" Victoria answered and Mundy blushed.

"Right…" He continued sipping on his coffee.

"How long have you known L for?" Victoria asked.

"Uh… Quite a bit I guess, but not too long, can't really remember."

"Oh, so you didn't know him before he came to Australia?"

"Nah." Mundy answered.

"And you work together?" Victoria asked.

"Y-yeah, well, we have to." Mundy answered.

"You don't want it?"

Mundy raised his eyes to Victoria, behind his yellow tinted glasses, and looked away. He chose not to answer. Victoria let the silence weigh, thinking that he would find it awkward and end up answering, but no. Mundy just wouldn't say anything.

"He didn't want it." She said and he jerked his head up to look her in the eyes.

"Did he say that?" Mundy asked.

"Yep." Victoria sipped on her coffee. "Said both of you and especially him didn't want to work together."

Mundy lowered his head.

"Guess he's right…"

"But then, I think that he's changed his mind."

When the words hit Mundy's head, he raised his head again and faced Victoria.

"He never said it like that but…" She bobbed her head left and right. "You can kind of see it."

"See what?" He asked.

"You two get along well." She answered and he blushed.

"Yeah, well, we have to work together so…"

"So that doesn't necessarily imply that you should get along." She said. "Look here at the diner, I'm stuck with some folks I don't really get along with sometimes, but eh, bills aren't going to pay themselves."

"Hm. S'ppose so. And uh… Where did you see that we got along? We spend most of our time arguing!" Mundy said.

"You shared pancakes." Victoria answered.

"Yeah, and?"

"I serve that man his lunch almost everyday of the week. Never have I seen him share a dessert with anyone."

"Oh, c'mon, he must do it with Pearl from time to time, doesn't he?"

Victoria shook his head.

"Nope, he doesn't. And even before Pearl's time, he never shared pancakes with me or anyone else."

Mundy held on to that information dearly. His mind ran wild and free, replaying the movie of that afternoon, sharing the pancakes with the Frenchman… Hm, there was something comforting about it.

"Hey, Sir!"

The child's voice pulled Mundy out of his daydream. The little boy had entered the diner and ran to Mundy's table.

"You're M, Sir?"

"Yeah."

Victoria watched the exchange.

"Can you come, please? We got sent to get you somewhere."

"We?" Victoria asked, looking around but seeing only one child.

"Yeah, sure." Mundy said, he looked at Victoria. "You don't mind? Work's calling."

"Uh… Sure?" She answered, confused that work was coming in the form of a little kid.

Mundy paid what he owed and exited the diner, following the child.

"Where do I need to go?" He asked.

"Just follow me." The boy answered.

"Oh, so it's not far." He said.

"Nah, just around the corner… Here."

They stepped in an alley and the rest of the group of little boys was there.

"So, what d'you have for me, boys?" Mundy asked.

"This box. It comes from Richard."

The tallest of the children came forward with a large, yet relatively thin box.

"Oh… Ok… Well, thanks a lot."

"See ya!"

The kids ran away from the alley and Mundy went back to the van. He drove away such that Victoria wouldn't see anything and parked again. He hopped at the back of his van and sat down on the old, worn out couch, putting the box on his lap. It was made of glossy white paper and wrapped with a dark blue satin knot.

"Yep, only bloke posh enough to send me something like that is Richard or L… No that L’s gonna send me anythin’..."

Mundy pulled on the knot and the satin ribbon came loose. He opened the lid and frowned.

"What the hell…?"

-- Queen Victoria --

"Good evening, Sir. The usual?"

"Yes, please."

"Including the coffee?"

"Yeah, please."

"Certainly."

The waiter disappeared and Mundy looked around. There were more and more people around him, the dining area was filling up and the chatter around him floated in the air. It wasn't too loud, thank God, and was just enough to tell him that indeed, he wasn't the only one to make an effort and wear a suit on Saturday.

And what a suit…?

He had never worn anything like it before. It didn't feel tight, neither did Mundy feel strangled by it, or uncomfortably restrained. No, it had been easy to put on, soft against his skin and when he had seen himself on the reflection of the Queen Victoria's windows, as he entered, he didn't recognise himself. That was what that box sent by Richard contained.

The suit was beige, with a white shirt and brown bowtie. The vest and trousers were perfectly cut for him. Well, they were custom-made…!

Something he didn't understand though, was why Richard would send him an extra suit? He was expecting the one for Duchemin's ball, but not this. Hm.

His dessert and coffee landed in front of him.

"Ah, thanks."

He started digging in, although his mind was very much still on the suit.

"Ladies and gentlemen…!"

Mundy stopped eating sharp and raised his head. He knew the show would really start now.

"The one and only, the great Lulu!"

People applauded in the audience and the volume was louder than for the previous show.

"Ah…" Mundy sighed in delight and relief when Lulu appeared, through the red curtains and walked to the microphone. He was a sight to behold, that man, in his pastel blue suit and beige bowtie. He looked like an ang-

"No, bloody hell…" Mundy shook his head.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lulu started. "Thank you again for the letters, I appreciate the kind words and would like to reiterate my thanks."

A wave of applause rolled in the audience.

"Secondly, I took the liberty of changing tonight's song."

Mundy leaned back. He didn't care what the man sang, he knew that whatever it would be, it would get to him. Lulu went to the piano and started playing at the same time as the violins.

And when he started singing, Mundy got flushed and blushed, the singer was closing his eyes, the movement of his eyebrows betrayed what burnt inside him, the meaning of the lyrics that Mundy barely got. And the hunter stared at the artist, at his sensitivity, how openly he was sharing what he had inside without being judged or without fear of people looking at him differently for whatever he was saying.

That was a luxury that Mundy couldn't afford.

He squinted, all slouched on his seat, resting his jaw on his palm with his elbow on the table. The lights in the dining area were low but the spotlight on Lulu shone bright, even his hair was shining, a bit like silk.

Gosh…

Lulu's lips were a hairwidth away from the microphone and Mundy sighed on his seat. He was jealous of that silver steel, cold microphone… Oh he wished. He wished he could be the one those words, whatever their meaning, were sung to. He wished he could have someone he could hold against him now, he wished he could be held, he wished he could find again what it meant to live and not survive, he wished…

He wished killing Duchemin didn't mean to be tracked and his days counted down as a certain and imminent death would take him away. He wished he could stay alive after all this, just… At least to hear Lulu again, but this time, without feeling like those concerts, those moments of peace were more and more rare as his own fingers were closing on Duchemin's throat.

Nah, Mundy as always could but wish. He had spent his life doing that. Wishing. Wishing to get out of school, wishing for his parents to give him a sibling, wishing to get a bit of money to help them out, wishing he could live like a proper adult, far from them, but knowing that it was tearing him apart, wishing his father could make the effort and understand him, wishing that he could have been there to help them, to save them. And now, wishing he could over-live, live beyond his final stop.

And why?

For those silver eyes, hidden behind a veiled curtain of long, black eyelashes, for that slim, hooked nose, in the middle of masculine cheeks, the cheekbones jutting just slightly, just what they should, a well defined jaw, a smooth jawline. And then there were two thin lips, the most delicate lips in the world, and no doubt the softest; lips from which the sounds of an exquisite agony came out, the delicious pain and luxury of thinking about one's own feelings, as if one didn't have any other problems in the world but the waves and storms in his own insides...

Mundy's tired eyes blinked slowly and his eyelids fell halfway through his irises. The waves inside him were rolling and softly crashing on the shore. His insides were warm, the flickering flame of Lulu's voice was so powerful.

"Je suis un homo,

[I am a man-oh/homo]

Comme ils disent."

[As they say.]

Gosh. Mundy straightened his back in a flash, splaying his hands flat on the table. He might have understood that sentence. Oh my God, he just might! Ha, listening to that Solitude song on loop in the van made him pick up a few words and expressions.

But how on Earth was Lulu able to sing that? Where did he get that courage, that foolishness, that madness from? If Mundy had understood well, he had just admitted to… liking men. Not only that, Mundy already knew of that, nah, he had sung that in a room that could hardly be more full of people.

Mundy looked left and right. And what kind of people? Only the respectable, the custom-made suits, the dresses with matching hats, the expensive make-up and even more wealthy style of life…

And yet, Lulu had just sang it. He said it powerfully, yelled it in the room for everyone to hear loud and clear. No, no, no, the more Mundy thought it, the more certain he became. Yes! Yes, he had just said that! Mundy's French from his days at school were very poor rudiments now, but he remembered it. Je suis means I am. Je suis un homo then surely meant… It meant…

Mundy looked again left and right, his head twisting and turning. People's faces were still watching the singer and the performance as if nothing had just happened. Was he the only one to have understood that? Was he the only one who had cared about the lyrics and actually tried to understand? Why was no one offended? Why was no one caring? Why was no one making a scandal right there and then, and leaving the place slamming the door?

Mundy's eyes came back to Lulu.

"Bloody hell… He really meant…"

The singer's tears were visible. He had tried to swallow them back and keep a bit of dignity, but no. The truth he was singing split him in halves, the two halves of a tortured soul. Each half had prepared one single tear, and they now raced down his cheeks, as he screwed his eyes shut, as if that would make him disappear off of everyone's sight.

The song ended and people applauded loudly. Mundy didn't. He was paralysed on his seat, awestruck. Lulu opened his eyes and looked through the crowd. Good God, his eyes were a shade of blue that was so light under the spotlight…

"Bugger."

It seemed to Mundy that Lulu was staring in his direction. The Frenchman's eyebrow twitched, his lips parted as if he had wanted to say something in the microphone. Mundy was hanging off of his very lips, waiting for him to tell him. What was it, Lulu? J-just say it…!

The singer lowered his head, his cinder front lock of hair falling between his eyes, and he stood up, leaving the stage with a hand on his face. He didn't even thank his audience.

The lights got back on in the dining area and Mundy fell back on his chair. He exhaled in an unusually long sigh. Bloody hell, he had been holding his breath all along and didn't realise it.

"Gosh…"

It took him long minutes to get a normal and steady breath back. Mundy's eyes fell on his plate. He hadn't finished his dessert, so he got back to the chocolate cake. But he didn't feel its taste. His mind was racing. Why did Lulu change the song of tonight's show to sing that one? Why did he insist on that one? Why did he cry? Was it just something he did all the time when he sang? Mundy remembered that he had shed a tear singing about Solitude. Was it all for show? What did it all mean?

"Wait."

Mundy raised his head off his piece of cake and frowned. Why the hell did he care? Why did he feel like he should care about that man's feelings and whatever the hell was going through him? Mundy hated people and the less time he spent with them, the better. People were complicated, people lied, people were all over the place!

He finished his cake and drank his coffee but felt neither the sweetness of the first, or the bitterness of the second. He wiped his mouth on the napkin and wiped his hands. Wait, what? His hands?

Mundy looked at his hands and rubbed them together. They were sweaty…? That's new.

"Alright, alright… I'll do it."

He stood up and headed straight for where he knew Lulu would be. He went through the backstage area without being stopped by anyone. He slithered through straight to the door with the name of the man he wanted to have a chat with. He raised his hand and turned his knuckle to the door. Nothing. He couldn't knock.

Take a deep breath.

Mundy shook his head. He heard L's voice in his head. And in his great anxiety, it soothed him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and on his shut eyelids, he saw the masked man he shared pancakes with.

His fingers worked faster than his head and he knocked at the door. He heard nothing for a few seconds that felt much longer.

"Who is it?"

"Uh… I don't know if you remember me… I'm uh, I'm M."

The door opened in a flash. Lulu was livid.

"Uh, a-are you alright? You look pale." Mundy said.

The Frenchman stayed frozen for a minute or so.

"Uh, can we come in maybe?"

Lulu took a deep breath, and let his guest in. He closed the door after him.

"What brings you back here?" Lulu gulped down some water and Mundy noticed the shirt whose first button was open and the absence of bowtie.

"I uh… I wanted to ask something."

"When do you not?"

Mundy lowered his head.

"I uh… Sorry, look, you don't have to listen to me ramblin', I can just go away." He answered.

"Non. Tell me what you wish to know." Lulu motioned him to sit down on his sofa.

"What you sang today," Mundy took a seat. "Did you just say that-"

"Ah, so you understood?" Lulu interrupted and asked as he sat down. His eyes were everywhere but on the Aussie's face.

"I-I think I did. But how could you-?"

"What is this suit…?" Lulu's gloved hand hovered to Mundy's jacket, on his chest.

"Oh, that? To be honest, I never asked for it but uh… I just got it."

"It suits you."

"Really?"

"Oh absolutely, please stand up for a second."

Mundy did so, not questioning anything.

"Yeah?"

"Mon Dieu…" Lulu covered his face with his hands. He was breathing heavily and lowered his head.

"A-are you alright? You seem a bit sick or something?" Mundy said, sitting back down.

"Oui, non, it's fine. This evening and the past few days were tiring. A lot of work has decided to suddenly weigh on my shoulders."

"Oh, sorry to hear that." Mundy answered.

"Well, it's not your fault, not entirely."

"Not entirely?"

"Well, I did have to prepare this show. Who do you think I do all this for?" Lulu motioned his hands around his face, his suit and everything around him.

"Ah, yeah, for folks who come to hear you, eh."

"Oui and non."

Silence fell and Mundy didn't ask the singer to explain himself.

"Can I say something else?" Mundy asked.

"May I say something else? Your grammar, unlike your style tonight, leaves a great deal to be desired." Lulu said, removing his hands from his face. He was smiling softly.

Mundy grinned back.

"Well… I'm bad with words, sorry."

"Go ahead, ask me."

"It's not really a question. I wanted to say thanks." Mundy said.

"What for?"

"For giving your tickets to the party to L."

"Ah." Lulu leaned back on his sofa. "You are welcome. So he is taking you?"

"Yeah, well," Mundy blushed. "It's for work."

"Still," Lulu answered. "I would have given actual money to see him ask you."

Mundy cleared his throat to make the embarrassment pass.

"Anyway, it is a coincidence that we know the same man."

"Yeah. A bit wild, eh?"

Lulu chuckled.

"Indeed. He talked to me about you."

"Whatever he said to you," Mundy said. "Chances are it's all wrong."

"Why?" Lulu asked.

"We uh… We came into contact a bit by chance, for business really."

"Don't you get along?" Lulu asked.

"I don't know. I think we're uh, we're doing what we need to."

"That is not his version." Lulu added.

"Yeah, well, no surprise. The bloke's arrogant and so posh."

Lulu chuckled again.

"You misunderstood me. He feels that you get along well."

"We bicker and fight all the time!" Mundy said and Lulu shrugged.

"It suits him, the way you two work." The singer said. "What about you?"

Mundy looked away and frowned.

"Hm."

"You do not wish to share?" Lulu asked.

"Don't know."

"Or maybe you do wish to share too much."

Mundy pulled the hat deeper down on his head to hide his blush.

"Yeah, well… He's uh… He's ok. We make it work." He finally said.

"Let me tell you that it is a first for him since, hm, two, three decades maybe."

"What d'you mean?"

"He always has worked solo. He hates having to rely on others because others have failed him a lot. Non, he likes to have control."

"What is his job anyway…?" Mundy asked.

"If he told you, he would have to kill you." Lulu gave him one of those mysterious smiles that punched Mundy in his guts.

"Gosh, you really sound like one another." Mundy shook his head.

"You mean the accent?"

"Not only the accent, also the way you both talk. It's the same."

"We also look alike quite a bit." Lulu added.

"Yeah, you have the same eyes and very similar overall face shape. You're about as tall as each other. L might be a bit taller."

"Non, that is his ego." Lulu smirked mockingly.

Both chuckled.

"He said you were the arrogant one." Mundy said.

"Of course he would. But non, don't believe what that man says, he is definitely more disdainful than me."

"Pfff…"

They took a second to laugh it off.

"He likes your company." The French accent sung and Mundy's ears pricked up. His head spun to Lulu in a flash.

"You have your way with people, M." Lulu continued. "You say you are bad with words but it is with your words on the letter that we met. Your words did intrigue me. And straight away, we shared some quite intimate things about each other. Non, you might be bad with words but you have some great emotional intelligence." Lulu said.

"Hm." Mundy looked away.

"And it even got to a man as cold as L. Quite the feat, really."

Mundy looked at Lulu again.

"I haven't seen that man like someone's company for… Last time it happened, he was a completely different man."Mundy and Lulu's eyes locked.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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