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Scattered Daily Part 2
Well hello! This is part 2 of my fic, Scattered Daily. The first part was posted about 2 weeks ago. I hope you enjoy it!



Title: Scattered Daily Part 2 of 2
Rating: R
Pairing: Jon/Stephen
Warnings: slash and language
Summary: Jon finally calls Stephen, and goes to see him to talk things out. Stephen may not be able to let go of his anger. What will prevail...love or hate?

link to part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/tds_rps/263411.html#cutid1

Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).

Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'Viacom', any associated entites, or any copywrited material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976, and is not intended to infringe upon any copywrited material.



Jon Stewart checked his watch: 1:06 a.m. He was sitting alone in his office in the early hours of the morning, not wanting to go home and face his wife. She was most likely worried about him, wondering why he had changed in the last few months and why he always came home so late. She had already inquired about his mood swings. Jon had not given an answer; something he had gotten used to doing lately. The only things that mattered to Jon as of late were his unchangable past, and the man named Stephen Colbert. The man that consumed his every thought. The man that he had hurt so much. The man that he was in love with.

Jon Stewart was in love with Stephen Colbert. He had always been, in the back of his mind, without fully realizing it until it was too late. They were always playing around while on stage. Jon had never thought anything about it. He'd always reminded himself: It's just comedy...right?

As Jon sipped his drink and adjusted his position in his black leather chair, he wondered what Stephen had thought of those times. Had Stephen been as joking and indifferent to his own feelings as Jon, or had he been wishing for something more? Had Stephen felt the deep emotions, that he expressed to Jon, even then?

Jon pondered, and found himself selfishly hoping that Stephen had always been in love with him. Jon's gaze wandered to his telephone, placed conveniently within his reach on his desk, next to his pile of paperwork that would most likely never be done. He thought that he should call Stephen, apologize, and tell him his feelings. The younger man would most likely not accept it. Jon knew his ex-best friend well enough to realize that. And, besides that, Jon would probably yell, and they would get into an argument. Not a good idea.

Jon sighed, giving up. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. There was no way to fix this. It would never get better. He was dreaming that Stephen was there, holding onto him and never letting go...

**********

Stephen Colbert fumbled for his keys, and finally finding them, unlocked the door to his apartment. It wasn't shabby; quite kind to the eyes, actually. The decor was simple. He'd just moved in recently and there were a few paintings on the bare white walls, a few pieces of furniture, and a single lamp next to his favorite armchair. The living room led to the quaint little kitchen on the left and to a bedroom, a bathroom and a study on the right. He was actually proud for decorating and arranging it himself.

The thing that bothered Stephen about his new apartment was the cold emptiness of it. He was the only one that was ever there. And no warm smile had ever graced his lips between these cold walls. He was an empty man, given up on hope and love. The only two loves of his life, his wife and Jon, were lost to him forever. He felt so pathetic...and alone.

Stephen hung his coat up in his closet; an old habit he had picked up from his ex-wife. They had split some months ago. He recalled, as he ventured over to his kitchen, the evening that they had decided on divorce. He remembered telling his wife about his love for Jon. She was the first one he told. She didn't take it well, but Stephen was never angry about that.

After quitting the Colbert Report (he could not stand being so close to Jon after confessing his love and being turned down), Stephen easily found a job at the local newspaper. He had already climbed to the top there, but wasn't making nearly as much as he had made at the Report. Not that he gave a damn about money right now.

He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket; it was something he had started 'for his health'. Stephen looked down at the pack, and a siren went off in his head. Don't do this, it told him. Don't throw your life away. "What life?" Stephen scoffed at the siren, finding his own despair morbidly funny. He found a pack of matches in a drawer. He opened the pack of matches to find it completely empty. "Fuck you. I'll smoke every single one of these cigarettes...if I can some matches. Or a lighter."

After searching for some time, Stephen found a few matches. He lit the cigarette that was now in his hand, and gazed at it hesitantly. This wasn't the first time he'd smoked; why the hell was he becoming hesitant? He drew the cigarette up to his lips and took a deep breath. Stephen closed his eyes and for a moment, it seemed as if nothing mattered to him. And then, he was brought back to earth when the phone rang. It pierced the silence of his apartment, and he was so startled that he choked on the smoke he had just inhaled. He stumbled to the phone, still coughing, but by the time he put the headpiece to his ear he was all right.

"Hello?"

"Hi...Stephen."

Stephen knew that voice. There was no mistaking it. His heart began to race. Emotions were flooding through him that he had concentrated on repressing for so long. His cigarette dropped to the table, forgotten.

Stephen was finding it hard to breathe, and he guessed that Jon could hear him because what he said next was in a worried tone. "Stephen...a-are you alright?"

"Of course I'm fine, Jon. I'm just fine. Everything's fine. So don't sound so fucking worried," Stephen whispered into the phone, his voice challenging.

Jon just wasn't giving up. "I need to talk to you,"

Stephen was surprised by how sincere Jon's voice sounded. His icy heart was already beginning to melt as he answered, "What about?" in a less frustrated tone.

"About...uh...can I...can I please come over and talk to you...i-in person?"

Stephen sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and sat down on a stool in the kitchen. "Truthfully, do you think I should let you, after how much you've hurt me?" He was truthfully asking the question because he wasn't even sure of his own decisions anymore. If Jon were to...do anything... he didn't know if he would be able to resist. He was still in love with the man, after all. Through all of his pain, he was still so fucking in love with Jon Stewart.

There was a pause. "In all truth? No...I don't really think I deserve it. But I have to try, Stephen. I miss you...please let me explain everything..."

"Don't pull that shit! You were the one that turned me down when..." Stephen trailed off, and he thought. If Jon came over, everything would either get worse or get better. And he suddenly found that he was willing to take a gamble. "Alright. Do you know the way to my apartment?"

"Yeah, I do. Uh...one more thing...."

"Hm?"

"You sound terrible, Stephen. I know you don't sleep a lot, but...really...you need to get more rest."

"Maybe I was trying to get to sleep when you called me, Miracle Man? It's waaay past my bedtime, after all."

"Oh...yeah, it's really late...I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I couldn't sleep either." He paused. "But this doesn't mean I'm forgiving you, Jon."

"I know. See you soon, Stephen."

Stephen hung up the phone. He looked down and noticed his cigarette. It was already burnt down. He ground it into his ash tray, and stood up. What could he do with himself until Jon arrived? He was in his work clothes, suit and tie, and his hair was probably fine. Should he clean up the place? No, it was spotless already...besides, Jon didn't care. And Stephen knew that he wouldn't care, even if Jon cared.

Stephen ended up sitting down in his armchair. The journalist tapped his fingers on the leather arms of the chair, and crossed his legs. He uncrossed his legs. He crossed them again. He sighed, and tried to focus; to clear his crowded head. But he was just so damn nervous. Jon wasn't even there, and yet he was already affecting the self-confident man in ways that no one else in the world could.

Finally, Stephen heard a knock at the door. He stood up and walked over to it. There was no doubt that it was Jon, so he took a deep breath and opened the door. If there was anything Stephen was expecting, it was NOT an incredibly cute looking Jon, wearing his best suit, with a dozen beautiful red roses held out in front of him. But that was what he saw. Stephen was speechless for a few moments while Jon stood awkwardly on the welcome mat in front of Stephen’s apartment door, not feeling very welcome at all.

“Stephen, just take the damn flowers.” Jon finally said, regretting his last-minute decision to get them. Stephen took the flowers and could not hold back a little smile, which he did not mean for Jon to see, but which Jon saw, and suddenly he did not regret bringing the flowers.

“Come in.” Stephen said. He looked at the flowers with mixed feelings as Jon entered and took off his shoes. “You can sit down somewhere while I deal with these roses.”

Jon sat down in a chair that was facing Stephen’s armchair, and watched the man walk into his kitchen. He opened a cupboard and took out a simple glass vase, which he filled with water and set the roses into gently.

Stephen joined Jon in the living room. As he sat down, he took a cigarette and a match out of his pocket. He lit the cigarette and took a drag, Jon staring, shocked, the whole time. “What the hell is that? You don’t smoke.”

“Recently picked it up for my health,” Stephen said maliciously, taking another drag while staring at the older man, as if he was challenging him. Jon had no control over what Stephen did or didn’t do with his life. He exhaled and gently set his cigarette down in the nearby ashtray. It always seemed to be near him when he needed it.

“Put it out. That’s bad for you,” Jon scolded. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

Stephen considered. He looked at Jon. How dare he get worried? He was about to say something nasty and sarcastic, but then thought better of it. The younger man took one last drag of his cigarette before grinding it into the ashtray, looking defeated. “Happy?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

There was silence for a few moments before Stephen spoke. “I’m wondering what the hell you’ve come here to say. What do you think you can do?”

Jon thought. He hadn’t considered exactly what he would say. He decided that he probably should have. But he hadn’t, so he spoke the first thing that came into his head. “Stephen, I don’t know if you can forgive me. You have every right to be angry right now-”

“Damn skippy,” Stephen agreed

“Please…don’t interrupt me.” Jon told Stephen. He continued. “When you first came into my office and told me…your feelings…I had no idea what to do. I did really respect you for being so…so…forward…and confident…But, back then my marriage was still together and I didn’t want to hurt that. I couldn’t leave my family, but I couldn’t bring myself to say “no” either…you see, I the back of my head, I’ve always had a bit of a crush on you. Then I decided that I just couldn’t hurt my family…Do you understand so far?”

“Yes.” Stephen said. He could already feel his heart forgiving Jon, but he didn’t want to. He was still hurt.

“After that, my life fell apart. And when you quit the Colbert Report, our ratings suffered-”

Stephen winced. “Goddammit. I’m so stupid. You want me to come back to the show…That’s all you’re here for...” Stephen hung his head down in misery. “You used my feelings and I fell for it? You never...felt…”

“No, Stephen,” Jon said gently, leaning forward and grasping Stephen’s hands in his own. “What you thought was right. Back then, when you told me you loved me, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I…uh, I should have told you my true feelings…” Stephen’s head slowly turned up to face Jon’s. On his face was a look of confusion.

“I love you…Stephen Colbert…” Jon finished. He kissed Stephen on the lips, so softly, that it could have been a shadow dancing past Stephen’s face.

“Jon,” Stephen whispered. “No matter how hard I try, I can never resist you.”

“Then don’t,” Jon whispered in Stephen’s ear. Stephen shuddered in anticipation. Jon ever so slightly licked his earlobe, and heard a sharp intake of breath. Stephen couldn’t wait any longer. His hands found Jon’s neck, then his face, and he pulled the man into a kiss. It was gentle and timid at first, but increased with urgency as both men realized how deep their need for each other really was. Jon’s tongue explored Stephen’s mouth as his hands explored his best friend’s upper body. Stephen let himself enjoy Jon’s kisses, not putting up a fight for dominance, and tangled his hands into silky, peppery gray hair.

Jon, his lips still locked to Stephen’s, moved to straddle Stephen’s hips in his chair for better access. He pulled the younger man’s head into his, trying to reach deeper into the cavern that tasted like nothing he had ever experienced before. Any worries that Jon might have had were thrown to the winds, and nothing mattered accept the man in front of him. Stephen broke the kiss, gasping for breath. The two just stared into each other’s eyes for the longest time. Jon grinned. “Stephen…I’m so lucky…”

Stephen raised an eyebrow suggestively. He answered Jon by grasping his tie and using it to pull the older man against him. His mouth found Jon’s neck, causing Jon to moan in pleasure. Stephen kissed his collarbone and began untying the navy blue tie that had suddenly gotten in his way. He succeeded and tossed the tie aside. He helped Jon take off his suit jacket, and then took off his own. Jon was unbuttoning Stephen’s white shirt. His hands were shaking and he was having trouble with the buttons. Stephen wasn’t helping by licking his lips and then kissing Jon’s, making it very difficult to concentrate on the buttons. Jon finally just ripped open the shirt, and tore it off of his lover, who was feeling extremely turned on.

Jon climbed further on top of Stephen, causing the back of the chair to recline so Stephen was lying down and Jon was on top of him. He ran his hands over Stephen’s flat, bare chest. The man had certainly aged well. Much better than himself, he thought, though he knew Stephen would beg to differ. He captured Stephen’s luscious lips in his own again, and it was Stephen’s turn to unbutton Jon’s shirt, which he did with ease (though he was shivering with excitement and could hardly contain himself).

Stephen’s voice was filled with desire as he discarded Jon’s shirt and anxiously moved to his belt. “Jon…”

“Wait,” Jon said, his hand stopping Stephen’s. Stephen looked up and found his head being cradled by Jon’s gentle hands. They were the only hands that he ever wanted, and Jon’s beautiful, deep eyes were the ones he wanted to gaze into for the rest of eternity.

“I need you inside me,” Stephen told him. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He’d been teased for so long, he just couldn’t-

“Please, Stephen? I don’t…I don’t think I’m ready yet…and…I, uh…I just - I just think…I want it to be special, not so quick.”

Stephen didn’t want to push Jon to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with yet. “Alright. But you’re staying here tonight.”

Jon smiled, relaxing on top of Stephen. “I hoped so.” He stroked the man’s hair as he kissed him again, and Stephen kissed back hungrily, loving the taste of his lover’s mouth. He traced a finger up the back of Jon’s thigh and then grabbed his butt, causing Jon to moan into his mouth.

“You’re…killing me…Jon.” Stephen gasped in between kisses. He ground his pelvis against Jon’s, causing more moans, and almost died in ecstasy. “Oh god, please?”

“Not yet,” Jon panted.

“Oh, Jon…you’re really…going to kill me.”

END

Sexual cliffhanger. Sorry about that.