Chance Encounter

Breaking Point

You find yourself at my door,

Just like all those times before,

You wear your best apology,

But I was there to watch you leave

~*~

"Oh... what are you doing here?" Sock asked though he really meant was, it's not nighttime and you can't be drunk so why are you actually here? Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck standing awkwardly by the door like maybe he was regretting showing up. "It's just that you don't show up unless... you're... hungry... um, do you wanna come in for breakfast?" Wow nice save there Sowachowski, really know how to not make this completely awkward.

"Ye-yeah, sure. Breakfast sounds good actually."

"C-cool," Sock stuttered as he stepped back to let him in. Keeping his hands in his pockets to resist grabbing him and kissing him senseless Sock turned toward the kitchen and turned the stove on warming the pan as he pulled more eggs out for scrabble eggs. "How's life? Everything going okay? I haven't seen you in months."

Technically not a lie since they haven't really had a proper conversation in almost two months. Jonathan relaxed playing into his role, "Yeah, life's okay I guess. Started a new job last month, sales associate at the music store downtown, Music Surplus. You should check it out, it's really cool. Uh, how about you, how's college?"

Sock smiled as he scrabble the eggs, "Great. My professor says I've improved a lot in my writing. Says my stories are the best she's read in—shit—never mind forget I said anything. Um, college is good. Work too, I got promoted." Sock was already regretting opening his big mouth. He forgot where he was at and forgot that nighttime Jonathan is a completely different person from daytime Jonathan. If they were in a relationship it would make complete sense to talk about his writing but they weren't so he shouldn't.

"Writing? What stories do you write?"

"I said forget it," Sock punctuated as he emptied the pan into a plate for Jonathan. He handed him the plate and fork as Sock went around him to grab the TARDIS mug for coffee. I can't do this. Placing the mug on the counter he slid the cup over before walking out of the kitchen and closing himself off in the bathroom.

"I can't do this," Sock whispered as he clenched and unclenched his hands on the counter and stared at his own reflection. His eyes were wide and he could feel the prickling of tears in his eyes. He couldn't pretend everything was alright when he could feel these feelings suffocating him on the inside. The only way Sock was able to keep them at bay at night was because he had an outlet of kissing Jonathan and running his hands down his back.

Sock had nothing this time around. Pretending that nothing was happening between them, acting like he didn't know the taste of Jonathan by memory, was killing him. Sock didn't realize until today how badly he wanted their no-strings-attached to have strings. He wanted Jonathan, all of him, not just nighttime him—not just drunk Jonathan, but sober, clear-eyed Jonathan.

"Fuck," Sock said and because it seemed to help he said it again. Breathing in deeply he stood up straight pushing his shoulders back and left his sanctuary to talk to the blond who had a strong grip on his heart.

The kitchen was empty with untouched eggs resting on the counter next to the TARDIS cup.

"Fuck!"

*-*~*-*~*-*

"Wait, let me get this straight." Jojo said leaning on his couch in his old home, while his mom was away running errands, because he ran home after his small meltdown in the kitchen last week. "You're telling me after that dick pulled a dick move and left you high and dry to lick your wounds he sneaks back in and you, what, go for it. Not only is that a stupid idea on SO many levels but you agree to be his what? Drunk booty call? ...and when he finally deems to show his face in broad daylight and sober you freak and when you come out he's gone?"