Title: Love Steals Us From Loneliness Author: xxuc_love Fandom and Pairing: Whose Line RPS; Chip Esten/Jeff Davis [THEIR LOVE HAS CORRESPONDING LETTERS~!!!221ONE! *fangirls*] Rating: PG-13 Prompt: #5, Fluff (intimate) Warnings: Fluff, with a smige of angst. Notes: for pomegranate_red because I promised her C/J fic. Unbeta'd. Summary: (futurefic) The turning of seasons brings a change of feelings. My anger is a form of madness So I'd rather have hope than sadness You said something stupid like Love steals us from loneliness ~*~ The first thing that Chip notices when he steps outside his door, is that it’s fucking freezing. “I told you to put on another jacket, you asshole,” Jeff huffs, his arms crossed in front of his chest as they begin their walk down the street, snow crunching underneath them as they strolled down the sidewalk. “It’s a pretty long way to go. Are you sure you don’t want to go back?” “It’s not that cold,” he replies stubbornly, stuffing his bare hands in the pocket of his jeans. Jeff smirks and murmurs something under his breath. Something that sounds remarkably like “fucking liar,” or something to that degree. Chip smiles anyway, even though the cold is trying to force the corners of his mouth to stay in place; he grins brightly. It’s been awhile since the Green Screen show ended and the cast seemingly went their separate ways. Drew had announced that he wouldn’t be able to do anymore Improv-All Stars performances, and it appeared kind of silly to try and do it without him. They had tried to keep in close contact, but through the years, only Jeff and Chip were talking regularly. Every once in a while, Brad would give Jeff or Ryan a call, but it never went anywhere. And apart from a few commercials and movie appearances, Colin seemed to have fallen off of the face of the earth. It was hard, all of them splitting apart like that, Jeff thinks as he walks silently down the street with Chip, who was staring at the ground complacently and walking fast, so that Jeff often had to start jogging to keep up with him. The third time this happens, he slows his walking and slips a hand into Chips pocket, lacing their fingers inside of the denim as Chip tries to wrench it away. “Are you trying to get us in the National Inquirer?” Chip exclaims, but Jeff just smiles and grabs him by the hem of his jeans, leading him to a secluded part of the end of the street hidden from view by a thicket of trees. He backs Chip up into the dark red bark and moves in slowly, his hands traveling up the shorter man’s torso, playing with the thin lacing of his shirt as they create a trail up to his shoulders. Their mouths fuse in the darkness, the only source of heat created by the friction of skin against denim against more skin and more denim, and Chip lets out a lungful of air through his nostrils in a keening groan; he pulls back suddenly and smacks the back of his head against the bark. His eyes meet a stark coal-gray as they end their trail up smooth, pale skin, and his mouth curls into a sheepish smile. It’s lost immediately as Jeff speaks again. “Isn’t it nice to know that no matter what, you’re not alone?” By the tensing in his pitch, and the iridescent sway playing at the front of his eyes, Chip can tell this is not something that he has thought up suddenly. It’s a question he has been contemplating since his last goodbyes. And as the dusky blue color of his shirt fades and gets worn down by the receding sun’s rays, he holds Jeff shaking and barely composed in his arms, and for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “You’re lonely?” He asks uncertainly, his lips and cheeks painted red and swollen but for entirely different reasons. It’s not only because Jeff is breathing unevenly and uncomfortably into the curve of his ear, but for the simple fact that he hasn’t heard from anyone either. They have seemed to evanesce from sight and sound, without as little as a whisper of a goodbye. Jeff takes a moment before answering. And when he does it’s in a broken sob, so faint and so inaudible that it seemed silly to call it a sob at all. “Lonely, but not alone.” It doesn’t seem worth it to challenge the statement, so it hangs in the air and wraps around the two men gently; a cradling blanket against the wind and a shield of warmth to them both. The intimate gesture is noted, folded, put away, and forgotten by them both, as a source of convenience. As awkward as things have gotten, Chip thinks that one more incident like this would be the end of them both, and by the looks of Jeff now, it’s the last thing he’d ever want. They walk silently and contentedly back as the sun ends it voyage across the sky. The snow around them defrosts as the tepid winds caress their skin. And as they get back to the house, they’re holding hands again. ~*~