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Tone Deaf

Summary:

Curly and Jimmy are no exception to the stresses of finals week, burying exhausted faces in textbooks and cramming studying hours. Their bags are heavier than usual, shoulders aching from the strain of dense books and note taking supplies.

A good late night drive would do the trick of easing the stress. A favorite song they share a love for over the speakers, the top down on Curly’s old convertible, gazes that linger longer than intended when stillness befalls them.

Stars. Curly’s weak for the sight of Jimmy under starlight.

Notes:

A Gift for lovely @Jupitetly on Tumblr <3

She does all kinds of wonderful JimCurly artwork that never fails to put a little smile on my face.
Definitely go take a peek at her profile and show her work some love.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

[ University Era;PreTulpar ]

Finals; A merciless beast. Tired students dragging their feet from class to class, scratchy eyes crying for rest that hours of late study and preparation bitterly denied. Curly and Jimmy were no exception, exhausted faces buried in textbooks, sitting at shared tables in the library, or side by side in their dorm room under the yellow light of a lamp. They packed in long studying hours, shoulders aching from the strain of dense textbooks and note taking supplies.

A pair of exhausted bodies flopped down on Curly’s bed in the dim lighting, bags left on the floor before they landed on their backs against the plush comforter. The fabric scrunched beneath them, sighs of exhaustion leaving their mouths. 

Greeting them from where it was pinned above Curly’s bed, a familiar illustration of the milky way gleamed down, stars and colorful nebulas filling its expanse. He had the old thing from his bedroom back home, pinned up once again in an attempt to make their dorm room feel a little less like a musky work office. Its bright colors popped against the beige ceiling, nostalgic. They had laid beneath it side by side many times before, not limited to its time being hung in their dorm room.

“I think I might die before they’re over.” 

Curly rolled his pale eyes and shook his head. “No point in dying, we’re days from finishing finals.” 

“I dunno, sounds tempting regardless.” Jimmy shrugged, the movement of his shoulders rustling the fabric beneath his weight.

They laughed together, lighthearted in comparison to the stress that gnawed on their minds. It had been weeks since they laughed like that, the long build up before finals full of tense shoulders and long studying hours. They fell into a rhythm that benefited them both. The burdens they faced always felt less heavy when they carried them together. In the case of finals, Curly knew when to drag them both to the library to study, and Jimmy would beg the blond to take a break after he grew a headache from concentrating too long.

It reminded Curly of high school, the organic synergy that kept them tied at the hip. 

Curly rolled onto his side. “Wanna go for a drive?”

Jimmy turned just his head, raising a brow. “I just woke you up to keep you from drooling all over your book.”

“I’m not tired anymore.” Curly sat up. Hoisting his backpack into his lap, digging inside until he found his key fob. “If you don’t wanna come with, you don’t have to.” 

Feet didn’t hit the ground before Jimmy thrust himself up and snatched the keys out of his hand. “Thinking of leaving me here? That’s not very “best-friendly” of you.” 
Curly made a grab for them, but Jimmy held the keys out of reach.

“Let me drive, and I’ll come along.” 
“Since when are you setting the conditions for driving my car?”

One challenging look, and chaos ensued.

Curly shoved his hands into his chest and clambered on top of him, forcing him down onto his back against the bed. “Watch it!” Jimmy squealed, clamping the key fob between his hands, holding them tight against his chest. “Gimme the keys Jim!” Widening smiles tugged at their mouths, the muscles growing sore in their mutual amusement. It was far too late in the evening for the ruckus, but neither of them relented. If the hall manager came knocking, Curly’d worry about it then. 

Resituating himself so he was secure atop Jimmy’s stomach, he peeled fingers back from where they caged his keys. Jimmy resisted, squirming and cursing as he tried to hold tighter.“You’re gonna smother me to death fatso!”

“I’m gonna break your fingers before that happens.” Just as Curly had the upper hand, his keys shining up at him from between Jimmy’s fingers, in a quick movement Jimmy leaned forward.

The pinching of skin between sharp teeth made Curly yelp. “Ow!” He yanked his hands away, cradling them to his chest. “Now thats just unfair!”

“Oh, so there’s rules now?” Jimmy smirked, stuffing the keys in his pocket and using his now free hands to push on Curly’s chest. He didn’t really budge other than sitting up straighter, still cradling his sore fingers. Their shoulders rose and fell with exertion, eyes full of light sentiment. “Fine. You can drive us back.” 

“See? Not so hard, is it?”

———

With the top down and music turned up, they drove along dark streets, winding through the city's internal structure until they found a ruddy path that led away from the bustle.

The song playing as they pulled onto roads lined with thick trees held an unintentional memory within it. They had shared the sound through a cheap pair of gas station earbuds a dozen times. The beat itself catchy, the lyrics more depressing than the melody led on. Even then, it felt as if it was written just for them. Curly thought so anyway, regardless of how Jimmy would’ve scoffed at the idea, and maybe even told him that was a “gay thing to say”.

Even then, Curly couldn’t say he was completely wrong about that. His heart relentlessly reacted when the other would sing the familiar words as the tune filled the space between them.

Tonight was no different, a bored look on Jimmy as he turned to the window and in an unpracticed voice sang along to the catchy tune, a pale glimmer of an occasional street light passing over his sharp features. Curly’s cheeks hurt, sore from smiling as the minutes ticked onward. He wished he wasn’t driving so fast. He’d be able to hear the subtle rasp of them as they left Jimmy’s lips. It wasn’t really singing so much as it was saying the words while trying to follow the tune, yet it endeared him the same. It was vulnerable. A glance into a carefree version of Jimmy he didn’t always get to see.

Curly didn’t dare tell him that though. He knew it would be the last time he heard it if he did.

“Are we stopping here?” 
Jimmy watched with a raised eyebrow as Curly tugged the gear shift into park. 

“Yeah. Pretty isn’t it?”

Turning the music low enough to hear the crickets again, their eyes turned to the valley beneath where the car stilled. While it wasn’t much of a hill, just elevated enough to see the bustling city beyond, its lights beaming back at them. 

The sound of Jimmy’s seatbelt being undone made Curly turn back to look at him. His eyes were soft, the dim light of the dashboard and the city beyond reflecting against their dark backdrop. A strange sense of familiarity whispered in his ear. A mutter of déjà vu, like stepping into a dusty memory for the first time. He didn’t let it linger though, not when Jimmy let out a sigh and shifted in his seat. “It all seems smaller from up here. No more exams. No more payments or long work hours…” His voice dragged out, a drawl familiar to Curly on the rare chance Jimmy made an attempt to reminisce “Strange, all of it.”

Curly set his hands in his lap, tearing his eyes from the side of Jimmy’s face to the mentioned sight. “Feels less intimidating this way, doesn’t it? Manageable even.” 

“Easy for you to say.” Jimmy scoffed. “Everything goes your way.” That made Curly laugh, though it faded before he could sound truly amused. “Maybe it feels that way to you. I wish I was half as optimistic as you are about my own circumstances.” 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jimmy huffed a puff of air through his nose, basking in the starry sky over their heads.

Curly caught his lip in his teeth, chewing as the soft tune of bugs and the scratched CD playing through the stereo harmonized. Something about the banter came easily, regardless of the contents of it. The normalcy making the silence soft as it settled once more. 

“Hey, Curls.”
“Hm?”
“You’re gonna make your lip bleed chewing on it like that.”

Curly’s face burned hot under Jimmy’s full attention, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed just enough to emphasize the words as they left his mouth. “Whats on your mind?”

“You.” 

If his face was heating before it was boiling now, reddening in the soft light cast by the dashboard. The word tumbled out before he could so much as think, much less try to recover. He was a masochist wasn’t he? Allowing something like that to come out without so much of a thought. 

“What?” Jimmy’s eyes hardened, brows furrowing as he scrutinized Curly. “I-I’m glad you’re here, on campus…with me.” Where was he going? On the train to humiliation station, supposedly. Tears gathered in his ducts, embarrassment flooding the corners of his eyes.

“If you’re gonna start crying, do it quietly. I like this song and I don’t need you dampening it.” 
With a sharp elbow, Curly knocked Jimmy in the ribs, the pair of them joining in rambunctious laughter once again. The nerves didn’t fade with the tension, crickets and another cheap sounding pop song taking center stage in the silence.

Jimmy was smiling.

This time, it wasn’t cheeky. It was a smile Curly got from his companion so rarely he spent several long seconds gazing at it, as if he could commit it to memory before it vanished. He wanted to burn the softness of it into his brain, recall it whenever he felt the need.

“Curly.” 
“Hm?” 

Jimmy’s thumb brushed Curly’s bottom lip, the blond drawing a breath in surprise.

“Told you.” 

The pad of his fingers parted from Curly’s skin, just enough he could show him the smear of what looked to be blood. 

“…Thanks.”
“…What?” Curly blinked, his mouth still agape.
“For thinking about me.”

He leaned back and moved to pull his wrist the rest of the way back to his body, but Curly caught it.

Jimmy didn’t tug against the hold, suddenly stiffening beneath the soft pressure of Curly’s hand encircling his wrist. “I should be saying thank you. I really don’t think I would’ve made it through this semester without you.”

“…Really?” He didn’t sound convinced, maybe even a little embarrassed.

“Really.” 

Curly let Jimmy’s slim arm slip from his grasp, aiming to look away in an attempt to hide what he could of the color in his face he knew was still there as his heart twitched in his chest. It felt tight, trapped behind his ribcage as it beat.

He didn’t get the opportunity to catch his breath before Jimmy reached out and set a hand on his knee. He flinched in surprise, but when it lingered there, Curly gently laced his fingers with Jimmy’s.

They stayed like that, the song coming through the stereo softening as their sleep deprived eyes turned upward and traced paths across the stars like they could carve their own constellations into the atmosphere. 

“Can I be honest?” Almost a whisper, uncertainty riddling Curly’s tone.

“If you’re asking me if I am okay with it, I’d have to say it depends.” 

A fair comment. Curly knew Jimmy didn’t like surprises. Yet, with his face as hot as it was and his heart pounding in his ears, he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to delve right into it. As close as they were, there was still so much unresolved tension. Curly clung to it. Like he needed it to survive. Emotions long pent up and lingering behind self proclaimed protection meant to keep the peace between them.

The peace was fragile enough on its own as things were. Yet, Curly’s heart only grew in fragility the longer he went without honesty, without admittance. 

“I want to kiss you… again.” 

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. 

Curly took that as an invitation to continue. 

“Messy as… this is. I can’t lie to myself and agree with you. That it was something to just forget about.” Curly’s hand tightened on Jimmy’s. “It feels like lying to myself. Not just about that night, but about how I feel and-“

Words fell short as Jimmy pulled himself free. Curly half expected a very real shove to his shoulder, or for Jimmy to reach for the car handle and tug it open, disappearing into the night. Instead, Jimmy’s hands clamped on his shoulders. Their grip bled desperation, perhaps with the words he thought Jimmy was too afraid of saying. The very same desperation Curly felt as thoughtless admissions poured from his open mouth.

They didn’t remain there holding his shoulders, drifting beyond, passing over the collar of Curly’s shirt to press into either side of his neck.

Had the music gotten louder?
Perhaps even louder than his heartbeat as it quickened beneath Jimmy’s touch.

Jimmy’s thumb found his jawline, tracing through his facial hair, up the side of his face and back down to Curly’s bottom lip.

“Jim-“ 
“You look like you’re gonna faint.”

He wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t been this dizzy since that flight simulation test they had taken last semester. The simulation that left the blond with an upset stomach and a headache. His lips parted, but when nothing came out and their eyes met, Jimmy poked the rough pad of his thumb into his mouth. 

Curly’s brows shot up to his hairline when he felt the ridges of Jimmy’s skin against his gums. Jimmy didn’t seem to notice though, eyes trained on his finger as he brushed it against Curly’s pearly white teeth.

The saltiness of sweat greeted his tastebuds, a whisper of copper not far behind as the smear of blood touched the layer of saliva on his teeth. His heart pounded in his ears, melting beneath the oddly sensual touch, before the thumb relented, and a moment of expectant stillness hung between them.

It didn’t last long. They leaned as if pulled together by some hidden force, lips meeting, eyes fluttering shut in the wake of sensation.

A sound crawled up his throat, a groan caught between their mouthes as anticipation waned and all it left in its wake was the sensation of Jimmy. His hands were back on either side of Curly’s neck, pressing him closer as tension fell away beneath the warmth of Jimmy’s breath fanning over his face.

Their chests touched hearts beating in frantic tandem. Hands found purchase on fabric and skin, pulling the other closer.

He hadn’t really expected to kiss Jimmy tonight. Longed for it, asked for it even, but creeping self doubt had assured Curly he wouldn’t be getting anything tonight other than a humiliating argument.

Safe to say, this outcome was favorable.

This wasn’t just acceptance, but an enthusiastic return of desire. Jimmy not only kept the pace, but set it. Left Curly desperately playing chase to keep up as passionate hands wandered into blond curls and their mouths shifted.

The sensation of stubble against his skin made him shutter, Curly’s hands frantically evicting the fabric of his jacket to feel the planes of Jimmy’s thin frame, traveling down to grasp at boney hips. A small squeeze to the skin was all it took for Jimmy to huff a warm breath into his mouth, raw and guttural.

He smelled like he always did. Like the cigarette he had put out before they climbed into Curly’s old Ford, and a touch of earthy cologne. The scent was like coming home, a reminder that Jimmy was home. That anywhere he went, he’d always be chasing that scent, chasing the man in which the scent lingered and belonged. The scent that no doubt would linger on Curly.

The thought alone made his stomach churn, thumbs brushing tender circles on the knobs of Jimmy’s waist.

With a slow drag, Jimmy pulled away just far enough for their eyes to meet through the darkness. Their breath mingled in the gap, hot and clinging to each other’s skin as Curly leaned to press a kiss to the underside of Jimmy’s jaw.

He felt the vibration of the sound that crawled its way up Jimmy’s throat, his lips heating the cold skin where they brushed. The subtle facial hair was as rough as Jimmy was, somehow feeling more like the man he had come to know than if he was freshly shaven. He trailed open mouthed kisses down his throat, lips pressing hungrily against the skin that clung to Jimmy’s thin frame until they found his clavicle.

They shared a shiver, Jimmy’s cold fingers encapsulating Curly’s chin and pulling his head up, uniting them again. The chill of his fingers spread over his jaw and cheeks, soothing the burning under his skin, contrasting with the heat of their mouths as they enveloped each other.

The crickets continued humming, the throaty sounds they shared drowning most of the evening’s ambiance. The song on the stereo’s presence only notable once they parted again, Curly’s eyes fluttering open.

Jimmy’s own were heavy lidded, soft and dappled with the light of the stars.

His stomach twisted as he watched Jimmy’s brows furrow, processing the heat of the exchange. In his nerves, he gave his lanky sides what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

Tension relented its strict hold when instead of saying a word, Jimmy smiled. Not snarky or coy. This time, he beamed like starlight, toothier than any picture Curly had ever seen. He huffed a small sound from his nose, the corners of his lips twitching up until crooked teeth appeared.

However imperfect in theory, Curly wouldn’t have traded the sight and the warming affect it had on his body for the world.

It was all Curly could’ve asked for.

Notes:

Thank you to my lovely beta reader @ItsaPurple who has been a friend, inspiration, and co-thinker behind a lot of the headcanons found in the PreTulpar lineup. In all honesty, the only reason you get to see any of these is because of their enthusiastic support of my work since I began writing them six months ago. Now that they have an account, I can finally tag them here!

Also, thank you all for your patience with me. The last month has been very long and difficult for me, but I’ve been trying to do my part to recover.

The writing style of this one feels clunky, but I hope it’s not too noticeable. I’ve been so overstimulated it’s been difficult to write, but I’m trying. I know in order to work through the block, I gotta keep writing even if it feels bad.

Expect some more Gallows soon, thats next on the agenda.