New Years:

“You swear to god we’re not going to have a repeat of last year…”

“Are you sure I’m not an atheist?” Connor smirked, avoiding the promise and taking an sip of his champagne.

“Look just…” Tully heaved a sigh and gulped his beer, with considerably less decorum than Connor and his flute of champagne. It wasn’t expensive champagne, only a few dollars more than the box of beer, but it felt like an exotic indulgence, and he enjoyed it only on certain occasions, though while he wished that Tully might have shared it with him (it would have certainly made the mood) he equally had to admit that it would have seemed very out of character for Tully, stretched out on the couch as though he’d been partially deboned, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, with one heel firmly planted on one of the socks he’d pried off. He was wearing blue jeans that were at the verge of tearing through at the knees, and which had some colorful stains from his attempts to repair the duplex, and his ever present button down shirt (this one was light pumpkin orange) was rolled up past his elbows. “…Never mind.” He finished, when he swallowed his beer.

Tully had slightly long toes, which Connor thought was sort of endearing in an unusual way, though last time he’d mentioned this, Tully had worn shoes and socks for a week, in August.

Connor himself considered his own toes sort of normal and un-endearing, and Tully didn’t give a damn about them anyway, unless they were peering around the corner of the bathroom door, in which case they were usually getting yelled at for invasion of privacy.

“…I swear to god that guy is secretly a terminator robot or something.” Tully added, a conversational Non-Sequitur as he pointed the neck of his bottle at the television, and the announcer with the microphone who was discussing the glittering ball that was being prepped to drop for the New Year.

“I don’t see it.” Con noted. “…I’m thinking more like an android. Like on that TV show. With marginally better hair.”

“You –like- his hair?” Tully demanded, shooting him an incredulous look. “He looks like he’s wearing road kill!”

“Only because he’s got too much product in.”

“See I think that’s argument for him being a terminator… it’s not product it’s liquid metal or whatever… that’s why it won’t move in gale force winds… why am I even having this conversation?” Tully shot Connor a sidelong look and took another gulp of his beer. It was his second, and he had a slight flush across his cheekbones from it.

“Because you love me, Teddy Bear?” Connor asked, tone spritely as he flashed a smile and took another delicate sip of champagne. It was dry and sweet, polar opposite of Tully’s beer, which he could smell at close range. He was half tempted to grab the brown bottle and take a drink himself, though he wasn’t fond of the taste, and it would only make Tully storm off and get a new one.

“Pft. Like a proctologist.” Tully growled. He always seemed pleasantly oblivious to the way his casual turn of phrase could hit like a Mack Truck doing 80. Hope must have sprung eternal, though, because he was still here.

“Don’t be that way, Teddy Bear!” He coaxed, elbowing his partner and grinning. “Hey, do you think the pizza will get here before or after the ball drops?”

“If it’s after we can accuse him of being a year late. Don’t call me TeddyBear!” Tully growled, elbowing back, a bit sloppily and harder than he’d meant to.

“Mm. That’s a fun one. Do you think they’d give us a free pizza?”

“Mm…Probably not unless he was actually over the thirty minute mark. You didn’t order all veggies did you?” Tully stretched languidly, blinking a little blearily as the gesture made the bottle in his grip slosh quietly, though the contents were sufficiently low that none of the bitter, hoppy smelling brew spilled out.

Connor sighed, rubbing the spot on his ribs where Tully’s elbow had dug in.

“You know you should be more careful with your cholesterol… neither one of us is getting any younger.” He pointed out, shooting Tully a wry look. He was in good shape, but you could still see the trace signs of being thirty around the edges. It wasn’t possible any longer to mistake him for a particularly mature teenager, either of them.

“…Oh God… you got that tofu veggie thing again didn’t you?” Tully groaned, going completely limp in a parody of death from tofu consumption, until the bottle slipped out of his hand and dropped behind the couch with a glassy ‘thunk’. He swore, prying himself up on one leg and leaning over the couch to look, fishing around to catch it.

Connor gave serious debate to sticking a finger through the gaps formed by the space between the buttons on his shirt. Tully was ticklish when he was drunk, but, then again, he also flailed.

He decided to pass.

“No…I got veggie pizza with pepperoni.” He sighed, with resignation. “Though I –should- have gotten just vegetables.” He added, as Tully sank back down, making the cushions bounce slightly with his landing.

“Yeah yeah. Con… it’s New Years. We’re both going to be totally hung over, grumpy, and tired tomorrow, just like everyone else in this god forsaken city. We might as well do it having eaten something that tastes good.”

“I still think it tastes good without the pepperoni.” He protested, starting to take another drink of champagne. Somehow his glass had gotten empty. He must have drunk it without paying attention. Shrugging, he picked the bottle off of the side table and poured another glass, taking a long swallow and savoring it as he watched Tully out of the corner of his eyes.

He had an expressive mouth. Another one of those things he didn’t dare comment on, but loved to watch, taking advantage of Tully’s willful blindness to such observations.

“Yeah well, you also eat Tofu.” Tully argued, as though this were the most damning sort of comment he could make on the matter. “Hey, they’re dropping the ball.” He pointed with the bottle again, glowered at it because it was empty, and looked for another.

“Oh hey, so they are.” Connor smiled, warmly, watching more openly as the ball ticked down.

5

4

3

2…

“…You’re staring. What, you want me to sing Old Lang Sein?” Tully demanded, holding the cap of his bottle in one hand and the bottle in the other.

Connor leaned forward, throwing an arm around Tully’s shoulders, as Tully tensed, eyes widening, as Connor planted a vigorous kiss on Tully’s lips.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! The TV hailed, cheerfully.


Tully’s Version:

“…Thank’s man…” Tully growled, wiping his mouth on his arm for the fiftieth time as the neighbor from the next door building handed him a drug store bag with a economy sized bottle of mouth wash.

“You know, you really could consider spending next year at a party…” Markus sighed, raising his hoary white eyebrows at Tully. “This has happened every year since you moved in.”

“I know, but I keep waiting for him to knock it off.” Tully admitted, guiltily, eyeing Connor, who was sprawled over the couch arm, snoring quietly. The pizza had replaced the champagne bottle, though Connor hadn’t had any of it before passing out. He was a light weight with champagne.

“…My Niece wanted to call the cops you know.” Markus added, in exasperation.

“Well…thanks for not…” Tully grimaced. “Is this the one who likes shortcake or the one who likes the chocolate raspberry cake?”

“Shortcake.” Markus provided, with a hint of a smile around his lips and eyes.

“Yeah, let me go downstairs and get you guys one out of the ice box. It’ll be our treat for shaking up new years ok?”

“That sounds like a fair trade.”



Connor’s Version:

He leaned forward and kissed Tully vigorously. The combination of beer and champagne tasted poor, he wouldn’t have recommended it to anyone… but the kiss….

Tully’s lips were stubbly, he was almost always stubbly, he thought it looked manly, which was sort of silly and cowboyish in a boyish way. He loved that silly cowboy thing. He loved it more when Tully didn’t pull away, or start screaming. The touch of their lips lingered as the television announcer and the crowd cheered. They were cheering for the new year, but in a bubbly champagne haze, they might as well have been cheering for that perfect light kiss.

They separated with a light smack of parting lips, their faces still almost touching.

“You know I’ve always loved you.” Connor told him, earnestly. “The first day I saw you I said “That’s the man I was destined to fall in love with, even those stupid cowboy books and your silly toes.”

“I know…” Tully said softly, in tones that sent a thrill down Con’s spine. “Why do you think I stuck around?”

He leaned forward again, running his fingers through Connor’s hair, pressing a return kiss against him and drawing him close. It was like something in a dream…


((1549 words of total nonsense))