Oh, The Places You'll Go

H.O.U.S.E Call

Notes: Written for oxoniensis' Porn Battle. Prompt: friendship


Several beers in Jack knows S.A.R.A.H's looking at him funny, probably has googly eyeballs where he can't see them. That'd be about right.

"That's what this is really about?" Zoe'd asked. "Henry ... leaving?"

Well, duh. Those three little dots bother Jack the most because they say 'he's your best friend, Jack,' and 'you need him,' and 'knowing you won't be able to call him up to bitch about Stark, ask for help in solving Eureka's stupid-assed crimes, or just shoot the shit, is killing you slowly, one brain-cell at a time.' Man, that's some wordy punctuation.

He hates this. Right now there's only one person he wants to talk to about it, only one he can talk to and he's dialed Henry's number before his alcohol-dulled brain gets a chance to catch up and tell him he's being dumb. And dangerous.

"Don't go," he blurts out the second Henry picks up.

"To where? Café Diem? It's lunch time." Jack can hear the smile in Henry's voice but he's not letting him deflect so easily. Jack's a sheriff, he's mostly good at pursuing a line of inquiry. Course, most times he's interrogating suspects he's had slightly less to drink.

"Yeah, no, Henry, don't go. Don't leave. I ..." Jack stops. What's he supposed to say next? Last night I dreamed about watching your car disappear down the road and woke to a pounding heart? Um, no.

"Jack, look, I'm sorry." Serious now, Henry's voice drops into the centre of Jack's head, like it lives there. Absently Jack lays one hand over his groin. His dick twitches. Nothing unusual there, it just likes being touched. "This isn't about you, it's something I have to do. Eureka, it's ... I'll miss you."

If Jack had said that last part he would have turned it into a question, but with Henry it's true statements all the way. It must be the swell of affection between friends those three words inspires causing the echoing swell in Jack's dick. He squeezes it a little; it's like giving himself a hug, that's all.

"You don't have to miss me if you don't go," Jack says, with impeccable logic. Even Henry can't fault that. "C'mon, Henry, Eureka's not that bad. Okay, Stark scored top asshole points at asshole university but there's a whole lot more than that." He slips his hand under his bathrobe. S.A.R.A.H has the AC on high.

"We've got, um, the best coffee this side of ... somewhere they make really great coffee, and there's all the cool stuff at Global that doesn't kill people or turn them into freaks or … yeah, forget that. There're your friends, Jo and Vincent and Taggart and everyone needs a Fargo to poke fun at." For a few moments all he can hear is Henry breathing, deep and measured. He isn't even surprised when he finds he's stroking himself through the thin cotton of his shorts.

"And you." It's still not a question.

"Yeah," says Jack. "And me." His fingers steal through the slit in his boxers, finding his dick, hot and heavy now and he's so very glad he's drunk because this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to him and he lives in Eureka. He grips himself, holding steady, waiting for Henry's voice, biting his lip.

"Jack, I already told you, I'm not leaving you. There are things called phones, buddy. In point of fact you're using one now." The hint of a smile is back and Jack fucks his fist to the sound of it, rolling his hips.

"I can even help you set up a webcam so you still get to see my handsome face." Jack thinks of Henry watching what he is doing and has to speed up, reaching down to touch his balls. He can't stop a gasp escaping.

"Jack? You okay there?"

Jack squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, nearly dislodging the phone. He should stop, now, but he doesn't. "'m a little drunk here, Henry. Just. Keep talking."

"Sure," says Henry and does.

Jack doesn't know if he comes when Henry is describing the vacation he's wants to take in Baja or debating researching at MIT or Cambridge or when he's telling Jack it's okay, he gets it, it's good, he just knows that when he puts the phone down his head is buzzing and his hand is sticky and his world is irrevocably changed in a way he has no idea how to deal with. But it's cool, he thinks, because the last time he'd said, "Don't leave," Henry'd said, "Don't know." Jack can work with that.


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