1960s // jally one shots

5!

prompt : "if i asked you to stay, would you?"

...

i woke up cold. i woke up feeling empty with my arms wrapped around a pillow. my eyes slowly crept open and through the blur of my drowsiness and eye boogers i saw a vacant lump of sheets imprinted by a missing body.

i squeezed my eyelids shut and spread them back open, my vision clearing. i squinted towards the vacant spot and sighed when i realized, really, that nothing was there.

last night i fell asleep cuddled up against my boyfriend, our shirtless bodies pressed together, my hands interlaced with his over his chest, and my forehead pushed against his crown. now i wake up lathered in my sleep sweat and dallas winston's sweat that hasn't dried yet.

i sighed. sometimes he walked out early in the morning, slipping away out the window into the dark and probably to buck's place where he'd drink himself back to bed. i know this because one dawn i woke up and i saw a shadow of him slithering into a pair of wrinkled jeans and attempting to slide out the cracked window.

"wha'ya doin'?" i mumbled and he just shrugged and quickly slammed the glass down before climbing back into bed and dropping his body onto mine. he was gone the next hour.

usually when i awake all lonely, i ignore it because it was common behavior. but this time i was annoyed. annoyed that we've been seeing each other for seven months and he still felt the need to treat me like a one night stand. annoyed that he doesn't tell me when he's leaving, where he's going.

so i threw my arm across the covers and landed my wrist against the home telephone. i quickly dialed the digits of the phone for his room at buck's, the cold of the metal jerking me awake slightly more.

it rang for about thirty seconds before a raspy voice uttered a "what?" and i smiled at the familiar anti-morning-birdness.

"yeah, hey, dal. can we talk about your reoccurring habit of leaving me cold?"

"huh?"

"dallas, almost every morning i've waken up to a half full bed an' my arms huggin' air," i sighed out, my thumb and forefinger digging into the crease between my eyebrows. he was gonna act like he's been waiting until i wake up and telling me goodbye before he leaves, saying that i've just been too tired to remember.

"johnny, the hell ya talkin' about?" he groaned out. i listened as he rolled himself out of his own bed, the blankets ruffling.

"ya know what the hell i'm talkin' about. about two thirds of the time we sleep together i wake up a-fuckin'-lone." anger was bubbling in me, boiling my intestines and heating up my lungs and burning at my heart and charring against my muscles and scorching my bones. he has the audacity to lie to me, the closest thing to family he's had in a damn long time.

"gee, i won't be mad. just tell me why you're never here."

"i said i don't know what the hell youre talking about!" he hissed.

"dallas."

"god, j, you wouldn't understand!"

"i might, d," i mumbled, fidgeting with the cord, wrapping it around my finger and itching at it with my nails.

i just wanted him to explain his absence. maybe he had a good reason. maybe it wasn't because he didn't like the way i look at sunrise, my hair matted and lips caked in drool. the dullness of my eyes before the daylight hits them. the greasiness of my face before i wash it. or the sweatiness of my palms. maybe he wasn't ashamed of me. maybe it wasn't that he regretted every night we spent stuck together, glued by our clamminess. but maybe he was. maybe he was embarrassed by the way i cussed. how long i last. disappointed in me when i don't wanna do it with him, and angered at me when he doesn't want to do it with me.

"okay, j-cakes. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i keep leavin' your bed cold. but please don't take it to heart." he paused and i waited, confused at where the hell he was going with this. because, as of now, i was taking his need to be away from me very much to heart. "i just don't think it's healthy for me to be the first thing you see every morning. i think it'd be good for- for the both of us if sometimes you wake up a li'l cold. and, uh, i think- i think you needa realize that it's okay to be cold once in a while. it will be okay. it'll pass."

"the hell are you saying?" i groaned. dallas never talked like this, like he was sincerely apologetic. and he definitely wasn't making any sense. i think you needa realize that it's okay to be cold once in a while? what in the absolute fuck does that even mean? i liked waking up warm with a body burrowed into my chest.

"i'm saying if we're with each other 24/7, uh, i don't know. we might get sick of each otha or somethin'," he murmured, slightly above a whisper. he sounded vulnerable, a tiny bit weak. nothing like the usual confident, carefree dallas winston that got "wanted" ads posted on lampposts or thrown on the ground by the fuzz after he cussed at them mercilessly.

"are you- are you breaking up with me?" i muttered in shock. all the sneaking out at 5am shit was leading up to this, huh? the big breakup, right?

"god-god no. i just. i don't know. if-"

"dallas. if i asked you to stay, would you?" i interrupted, my voice a little frail. a little fearful of his answer. a little scared that he'd shout a "of course not! don't you listen! i see you too much!"

"of course! of course i would. if you wanted me to, of course i would."

"then i'm asking you to come over, and to stay the night. and to sleep with me. and to fall asleep next to me. and to wake up at a decent hour and watch me slumber until i wake up and then i want you to stay with me all of that day too."

"right. i'll be there in a- in a few."

...

oh my! this! this is! this is trash!

i really am not liking my writing right now. but i'm try!ing!

i really have so many ideas but idk how to type them out and it's harrrrd.

anyways i rewatched the first two back to the futures today and it boutta watch the third. i really forget how godly this trilogy is. and, jesus, young michael j fox! what a man!