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bittysvalentines · 5 years

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I’ll Talk Bromance (if I can get it)

From: @leftwinglibrarian

To: @redneterp

Rating: Teen. Tags - Holsom, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Valentine's Day, canon-typical language

A message to your recipient - Happy Valentine's Day @redneterp! I loved getting your request, because it was almost exactly like the one I'd submitted! I felt like the world just needs more Holsom content, so that's what I went with. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for giving me the chance to write something for this pairing I love so much!

“HOLSTER? ARE YOU WEARING A TIE OR ..” Ransom’s query is cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Shit. CAN ONE OF YOU GUYS GET THAT?”

Apparently not, if the repeated ringing interspersed with door knocking is any indication. Ransom would grab it but he’s still standing there shirtless, which seems OK for the Haus but somehow not for Haus 2.0. Maybe this is the moment he achieves actual adulthood, he muses to himself as he grabs a dark red V-neck sweater from his drawer and pulls it on as he heads to the door.

“On my way, just one sec!” he calls out to the maniac who seems intent on knocking down their door.

He finally gets his sweater on, muttering under his breath about the uselessness of his roommates. Honestly, what is the point of living with four other people? Can’t one of them help out a guy who doesn’t want to answer the door half naked? Though to be fair, Shitty and Lardo aren’t home, because they are spending the holiday at a romantic B&B in Rockport. They both made a big deal about how they were staying “ironically” but Rans and Holster aren’t buying it. And their other roommate spends all of her time either out of the house or holed up in her room, so Rans hasn’t actually seen her in … well, it’s been a while. And Holster …

Holster is standing at the front door holding a bouquet of red roses and a giant heart-shaped box of chocolates.

“What the hell Holtzy?”

“And a Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well, Justin. May I come in?”

“Dude, you live here. What are you doing?”

“I am being a gentleman and picking up my date,” Holster says, brushing past him. “Are you ready?”

“Again, why are you picking me up? WE LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER.”

“Bro, can’t a bro do bromance right and pick up his Brolentine’s Day date in style?”

“Brolentine’s????”

“OK, I concede that ‘Galentine’s’ works better, but I feel like you are focusing too much on the details here and missing the spirit of this holiday. Are you ready for the most Bromantic evening of your life?”

“Sure Leslie Knope,” Ransom says with a smile, glancing down at his outfit. “If you think this is OK? Wasn’t sure how dressed up we needed to get.”

“Looks great, I’m about the same,” Holster says, gesturing down to his dark jeans and a navy blue half-zip sweater. “I’m gonna grab a vase for these while you get your shoes on.”

“Wait, are we doing gifts now? Hang on,” Ransom jogs back to his room. Holster may think he’s gone all out, but two can play at this game.

Which … it started out as a game, but it’s gotten a little intense, or at least it feels that way to Ransom. It had all started a few weeks ago when the group chat started talking about Valentine’s Day. That’s when Shitty had brought up their “ironic” V-Day plans, and Jack was being super cagey, so chances are he’s got something pretty epic planned. Ransom and Holster were the only ones without real plans, since he and March had finally called it quits a few months ago after trying the long-distance thing. Holster hasn’t really dated anyone more than casually for, well ... he’s always been more into hookups than relationships. But then so has Ransom, since the breakup, so who is he to talk?

The team had resorted to those chirps that have started to make Ransom blush a bit, about how the two of them are soulmates and will have an epic Palentine’s Day, etc. And of course they had to do it when Holster had just been on a “How I Met Your Mother” kick that lead to him posting at least 17 different “Challenge Accepted” memes. That combined with his always ardent love for Leslie Knope was enough to get Holster swearing that this was going to be the most epic Galentine’s Day - or, apparently, Brolentine’s - either of them had ever experienced.

Somehow the evening had morphed from beer, pizza and Mario Kart to actual PLANS, with Holster taking on dinner and Rans in charge of the activity. Of course Shitty’s encouragement to “fuck heteronormativity, two bros can celebrate their love” had only upped the ante, and now Holster was picking him up even though they still live together and bringing him gifts … At least Holster won’t win that one.

Ransom returns to the living room where Holster has managed to find something to serve as a vase and hands him a red gift bag, complete with heart-covered tissue paper.

“Rans, are these HIS AND HIS BOXER BRIEFS? ‘Swawesome. We are totes wearing these and doing some snuggling later.”

“Sure bro, of course,” Ransom says, ducking to tie his shoe and hide his blush. That was of course what he’d been planning when he ordered them, but hearing Holster say it, well. It’s just A LOT.

Honestly, ALL of Ransoms feelings about Holster have been a lot lately. He’s always thought his best friend was handsome and funny and talented and basically just the best person ever, but since things started going south with March, those feelings have somehow morphed into something more. He finds himself noticing how Holster’s singing in the shower sets the tone for his day, or how much he misses living in each other’s pockets now that they have separate bedrooms and work in different departments at the consulting firm. Or how perfect Holster’s arms and shoulders are and wondering what they’d feel like boxing him in against the bed as Holster looms over him. And that’s not how you are supposed to feel about your best bro. So Ransom will endure this night of flowers and chocolates and fake hand holding, and he’ll stay chill, and their friendship will be fine.

He stands up to find Holster holding the door.

“My lord, your chariot awaits.”

That earns an eye roll from Ransom as he heads to the door to grab the bag full of cold weather gear he’s packed for their activity, but he lets Holster hold the door and they pile into the car, headed out for the mystery dinner Holster has planned.

Turns out Holster did a pretty damn good job. He might end up winning this thing. Not that there is an actual winner or anything, but fondue was a boss choice. Anything that features the words “beer cheese” is going to be amazing. But served with a nice Chianti, because they are grownups and this is romantic. Still, turns out beer cheese is incredible on pretty much everything, from apples to shrimp to steak tips to the piece of baguette Holster is holding out to him across the table.

“Oh my God, Rans, you have to try this. This is my new favorite combination of carbs and cheese. It is the best thing in my life besides your smiling face.”

“Whoa, dramatic much, Holtz? Besides, you say that about pretty much every combination of carbs and cheese,” Ransom jokes, trying not to let Holster’s hyperbolic talk set his heart racing. He is your best friend, that’s IT.

“I really mean it this time. And if you don’t shut the fuck up and eat it right now and allow even one precious drop of this delicious perfection to escape I will never forgive you.”

They exchange a smile with their eyes as Ransom opens his mouth and allows Holster to feed him, because bromance. He starts to chew and can’t help but let out a moan. He’s already so full but he’s going to have to eat at least a full loaf of bread now because that was fucking delicious.

He opens his eyes to find Holster with a weird look on his face, one Ransom can’t quite interpret. It disappears instantly when Holster realizes Rans is back with him, and they continue on, scraping the bottom of the fondue pot to get every last bit of the melty cheese.

They move on to dessert, Ransom allowing Holster to feed him a brownie bite covered in chocolate and returning the favor with a bit of cheesecake. Ransom could sit here all night, eating delicious food and listening to Holster talk, using his hands to gesture wildly. Ransom probably shouldn’t find it so endearing, especially since he almost hit that waitress who was carrying a full fondue pot, but he lets himself enjoy the moment. The check has come and gone and their feet are casually touching under the table. Holster’s hair looks golden in the dim lighting of the restaurant. The Boston skyline twinkles in the background, and this truly is the best Valentine’s Day Ransom can remember spending.

He’s brought back to reality by a high-pitched squeal and someone yelling “Yes! Oh my god, Tom! Yes!” All heads in the restaurant turn to see the newly engaged couple kiss, earning cheers from the crowd. It’s enough to break the spell.

“So, you ready to head out?”

“Oh dude. I literally can’t imagine doing anything other than going home and lying around in front of the TV with my pants unbuttoned while I digest. Please tell me you aren’t making us go to one of those trampoline places or something.”

“Nope. You killed it at dinner, but now it’s my turn.”

They head to the car and bundle up, Ransom handing out hand warmers before shouldering the remaining items in the bag. He’s glad the restaurant isn’t too far away, since parking in Boston is hell on a good day, and tonight is sure to be even worse.

“Do I get to see what’s in the bag?” Holster asks as they head out to walk the few blocks. It’s cold, but not too bad, and clear — a perfect winter night.

“Nope, it would spoil the surprise,” Ransom says, pulling the bag a little tighter. “You’ll guess it soon, probably before we get there.”

He does start throwing out a few guesses as they near Boston Common (“Dude, is there some special V-Day Freedom Trail thing? Do you think I’m Jack Zimmermann?”), but it’s not until they can actually see the Frog Pond that Holster realizes what the night has in store.

“Skating? That is some next level bromance, taking it back to the place we first met. Can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”

And that … may have been exactly what Ransom was thinking, but it seems incredibly cheesy now that they’re here. He’s seriously having second thoughts about this plan. Plus the hordes of couples holding hands and the fairy lights strung through the trees are making this infinitely more romantic than any of the places they have skated. He and Holster have shared so many cellies, helmet kisses and bear hugs on the ice, but being surrounded by couples holding hands on a sheet of ice — which will always mean Holster, no matter where it might be — well, that might just be too much.

“It’s super cheesy, bro. I’m sorry. We can bail and go home and binge something, it’s fine. I just … I thought it would be funny if we came here ironically or whatever, you know?” Ransom can tell he’s not sounding convincing, especially to Holster, who knows him too well. But he’s looking around the pond instead of at Ransom, and doesn’t seem to mind the level of schmaltz surrounding them.

“Ironcially? Hell no. This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. We are totally doing this. Did you bring our skates? Because I am not putting my foot in some stanky rental.”

Ransom’s feeling reassured enough to feign shock at the very idea of getting rentals, and they lace up and pay the fee before taking to the pond, doing lazy loops that remind Justin of the early days of their friendship, lazily passing pucks back and forth as they stayed after practice talking for hours, discovering all they had in common.

It must be weighing on Holster’s mind as well, because he speaks up voice low where he’s skating too close to Ransom, hedged in by all the other couples on the ice.

“Did you ever think we’d be here? That first day we met?”

“I mean, not exactly,” and something in the air is making Ransom’s breath come a little faster and convincing him to be more vulnerable than he thinks is actually a good idea. “But I figured out pretty early on that you were someone I wanted to be a part of my life for a long time.”

“I knew. That day,” Holster says, still quiet in a way he rarely gets that lets Ransom know these moments are to be treasured. “I just like, we met and I just KNEW that you were going to be important to me.”

Ransom realizes that they’ve slowed down and are leaning into one another, so close they are breathing each other’s air. Which, it’s not like that’s anything new for them, but this feels somehow different. The frosty air seems charged, thick between them. Ransom is just starting to question whether Holster might be feeling the same, when someone slams into him from behind, sending him crashing into Holster’s strong arms. It’s only due to Holster’s height and strength that they don’t go crashing down.

“WATCH OUT, ASSHOLE!” Holster yells over his shoulder, as he helps steady Ransom. “What a dick. Can you believe that guy? You OK?”

Luckily the shove was enough to shatter the moment, and Ransom has recovered his wits along with his balance.

“Bro, I’m good. Thanks though,” he gives Holster a soft punch on the arm, shouting after him. “YOU COULD DO BETTER MISS. I MEAN REALLY, YOU COULD DO SO MUCH BETTER.”

They start skating again, laughing together, best bros once again in a sea of lovers, when Holster’s face lights up.

“Dude, you are so buying me hot chocolate.”

“Are you even serious right now? Do you realize how much chocolate we just ate?”

“Feel the bromance in the air, Justin. That calls for some fucking hot chocolate and snuggling.”

So Ransom forks over the money for hot chocolate (least he could do, after Holster shelled out big time for dinner), and they sit down on a bench, sitting close and quiet the way they normally only do at home in front of the TV or after they’ve been drinking. That’s happening less and less these days, with separate bedrooms and no kegsters to get them schwasted and keep Ransom from climbing up to the top bunk.

The cocoa is too hot to drink, and the rink is getting even more crowded, so they pack up their skates and sip as they walk back to the car, the talk going in a million directions just like it always does, able to follow one another’s mental leaps in a way that wouldn’t make sense to most people. They get in the car and and head home, but instead of pulling in the back, Holster parks out on the street.

“Can I walk you to the door?” Holster asks, turning to look at Ransom.

“Holster. YOU. LIVE. HERE.”

“I know. But can’t a bro try to treat his bro right after an epic V-Day?”

“Sure,” Ransom sighs and thunks his head back on the rest as Holster gets out of the car. “Bros for life, right?”

Holster is still playing the game and comes around to open Ransom’s door which is next level, even for him. They walk up to the door in silence, Ransom struggling to control his emotions. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck this up. He tries to shake it off and find the joviality from earlier in the evening, which he can tell is a mistake as soon as he opens his mouth. But even as he’s telling himself to shut the fuck up, he hears the words coming out.

“So, does this mean I get a goodnight kiss?” he tries for a laugh but it sounds strangled, and Holster is being silent and Holster isn’t laughing, why isn’t he laughing?

Ransom realizes Holster has stopped walking and he turns back to find him looking absolutely shattered. Does Holster know? Did he take this too far?

“Rans, I … I can’t do this, OK?”

“Holster, what … what do you mean? I’m sorry, OK? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that shit. I just … it was a stupid thing to say, OK?” he moves to pull Holster into a hug, and for the first time Ransom can remember, Holster pulls away.

“I didn’t realize you knew. I’m sorry. I’ll drive up to Samwell and crash there for the night, and we can figure it out tomorrow.” Holster won’t look at him, and he starts to shuffle back to the car, and he just looks so small and miserable and Holster should never feel that way and it’s Ransom who made him look like that.

“Adam, no. It was my fault, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he calls after him, grabbing Holster’s arm and turning him around so they are face to face. “I just … I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” Holster is looking at him incredulously. “Dude, I’m … Justin. I’m in love with you.”

Ransom can’t help the gasp that escapes from his lips. He feels himself sway a bit, feels the panic rise. This is what he’s been wanting for so long, including Holster’s strong arms wrapping around him, but Holster is still talking to him, soothing, holding him close but rubbing his back to calm the panic attack he can tell Ransom is trying to fight off.

“I love you, but I just can’t do this again. After we made out that time sophomore year, I just … Rans, that almost killed me. I just can’t do it again. And you deserve better than a creepy roommate who is mooning over you, so I can move out. I still want to be your friend, but I understand if you don’t want that.”

Ransom is still trying to get himself under control, and words are a struggle.

“I … I want. I wanted tonight to be real.”

“Justin … please,” and he’s cold as Holster is pulling slightly away, looking at Ransom with the saddest eyes Ransom has ever seen. “Please don’t say that when you don’t mean it. It hurts too much.”

“No, Holster … Adam, I. I’ve wanted it for a while now. It’s part of why I broke it off with March. I just … I thought it was just me.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No. No, I wouldn’t. Holster, I would never …” Ransom still can’t think of the right words to fix this, to let Holster know how he feels, so he does the only thing he can think of and pulls him into a kiss.

Holster is tense at first, surprised, but as Ransom keeps kissing him, trying to express what panic isn’t letting him say, he feels Holster relax into it, his arms sliding up to hold Ransom and opening his mouth to let the kiss deepen. Ransom is unsure how long it lasts, could be seconds, also seems like years, and they pull apart breathless, foreheads resting together, gulping down the cold air.

“So,” Holster says, still a bit breathless as his arms slide down to take Ransom’s hands in his. “You’re telling me that we have basically been pining away for each other for MONTHS now?”

“Uh, I guess so,” Ransom can feel himself beaming, panic sliding away as he lets himself realize that this moment is actually happening. “Should have told you, we missed so much time.”

“Bro, we still have time,” Holster says, pulling their joined hands up to his mouth and cupping them to his face, turning to kiss Ransom’s palm. “What do you say we turn this into a real Valentine’s Day?”

“Dude, only if we put on our matching boxers.”

“We can put them on, I’m just not promising they’ll stay on,” Holster says, wagging his eyebrows as he unlocks the door and they tumble inside, kissing as they move down the hallway.

Ransom loves him so fucking much.

“Hey Holster? I love you, too.”

“Bro. ‘Swawesome. Me too, obvs. Now, the big question … your room, or mine?”

Ransom drags Holster after him, wondering if it’s too soon to make one room “theirs.”

#holsterransom #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp

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jackson-phillips-blog · 7 years

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You Outta Know || Janton and Chase

Tagging: Jackson Phillips, Anton Mishka Morozov, Chase Olsen Setting: Jackson’s apartment, Afternoon of Tuesday, April 25th Summary: Chase comes over to check on Jackson and Mishka comes home from work. Awkwardness ensues and more than one secret gets revealed. Warnings: None

Jackson had been home for a few days and while he still wasn't feeling great--far from it actually--he definitely wasn't as miserable as he'd been at first. The limitations of his injuries still frustrated him infinitely and for as much as he appreciated Mishka's help, he still had trouble admitting that he needed it or accepting it when it was offered. It was slow going and a learning process for both of them but finally, he'd convinced his boyfriend to go back to work, that he didn't need to be watched around the clock. It was easier said than done, but eventually Mishka had left the apartment for a shift at Tall Tales and he'd gone back to sleep on the couch.

It was a little before noon when Jackson finally woke up and it didn't take long for the urge to do something hit him. But he knew he needed rest so instead, he fired off a message to Chase, asking his friend to come over. What better than time hanging with a friend, not to mention the peace of mind that his burn was healing normally? It wasn't that he'd purposely waited until Mishka was gone to invite the other man over b--okay, yes it was because on top of everything else he was still and would always be worried about being outed. Chase already suspected something and showing up to his one bedroom apartment where two men lived was hard for anyone to sell. Jackson made his way to the front door at the sound of a knock, not bothering to fight his way into a shirt. “Hey, man,” he greeted his friend before stepping back to allow him inside. “I was wonderin’ if ya got lost.”

Chase had already written out the instructions for Jackson after their conversation the other night and had left them next to a box of Thin Mints on his kitchen counter so he wouldn’t forget either thing whenever Jackson asked him to come over. Things at work were chaotic as usual, but Chase thrived off of chaos. It was much easier to throw himself into his work and put all of his focus on that than anything else. He had just gotten home and out of the shower when Jackson texted, quickly changing into clean clothes before he heads over, smiling as his friend opens the door. “Hey yourself. Sorry, I had to get changed.” The brunette says apologetically, holding up the bag he had brought with him as he steps inside, chuckling softly. “I come bearin’ cookies and instructions on how to take care of your arm. Want me to get that look over over with now? It’ll only take a minute.”

“I'm just fuckin’ with ya, Chase. Thanks for comin’ over,” Jackson said with a laugh as he pushed the door closed behind the other man. He couldn't help that his spirits lifted a little at the mention of the cookies and he nodded. “Yeah, just kick ya shoes off and come on in.” As he spoke his eyes flicked down to where his hand pointed at the line of shoes against the wall. After a second, his eyes went a little wide as he spotted a few pairs of Mishka's mixed in with his. Fuck. He hadn't even thought about that since his boyfriend has moved all his stuff in. Maybe Chase wouldn't notice though. He cleared his throat and did his best to shake it off mentally as he turned for the living room. “The couch’ll work, yeah?” Jackson asked.

“No problem, man. Anytime.” Chase replies, kicking off his shoes at Jackson’s request. “Yeah, couch is fine.” Grabbing the pair of gloves he had brought with him from the bag, he slips them on, setting everything else aside before following his friend over to where he sat. “How’s it feelin’? It’ll start gettin’ itchy as t heals, try not to scratch it too hard. You can put some plain lotion on it though if it gets too bad, just try not to overdo it otherwise the skin’ll stay wet and not heal.” The brunette murmurs as he looks Jackson’s shoulder over, being careful not to hurt his friend. “I don’t see any signs of infection - just keep puttin’ on whatever they gave ya at the hospital and bandaging it and it should heal up just fine in a couple of weeks.”

Jackson settled down on the couch and helped the slide the band of the sling out of the way so the bandages could be peeled back. “I mean, it hurts, but nothin’ like it was after it happened.” He hummed quietly in reply to show he understood the instructions and he was more than relieved to hear it looked good. Not that he didn't trust Mishka's first aid skills, but it was just good to have that reassurance from someone with medical training. “That's good to hear. Thanks, bro,” he said as he waited for everything to be shifted back like it was. “Just wish the swellin’ would go down already. I wanna take this damned thing off.” Jackson sighed at his own words though. He wasn't the type to complain this much. “Do I get my cookies now?”

“No problem. You could try putin’ ice on it a few times a day, if the pressure’s not too much.” Chase suggests as he reapplies the bandage, giving Jackson a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll grab ‘em.” Getting up, he tosses the gloves out before going back to his things, grabbing the box of cookies. “I left the instructions for ya on the table. They should be pretty self explanatory, but if ya have any questions, ya know how to reach me.” The brunette says, shrugging as he opens up the Thin Mints, offering them over to his friend. “I’m no doctor, but I’m way better than Google. Google just freaks people out, I swear.”

“Jus’ have to figure out a comfortable way to make the ice pack stay where I put it,” Jackson said. It's something he'd have to get creative with, but it would be worth it if it meant the swelling would go down faster. He shifted around on the couch when Chase disappeared, fidgeting with strap of the sling for a few seconds. He really was over the damned thing but he knew better than to risk having to wear it for longer. Jackson grinned at the cookies when they were opened and held out for him. At least this was still normal more or less. “Oh yeah, have folks thinkin’ they've got some incurable shit,” he laughed as he tugged a few cookies from the pack and bit into one. Before he could say anything else, his phone buzzed and he sat the cookies down in favor for his phone. Fuck being one-handed. Of course that minor irritation was erased once he opened the snapchat from Mishka, the picture making him angle his screen away from Chase until the time was up.

“Try a bag of frozen peas. They’re easier to bend around your shoulder than an ice pack.” The brunette replies, leaning back against the couch a bit. “You can always put the sling strap on top of the ice pack or whatever too.” Shrugging, Chase helps himself to a cookie, chewing it slowly. “Yeah, it’s crazy. I hate it when people call us thinkin’ something is terribly wrong because they’ve looked on Google and then it turns out to be somethin’ real simple.” He replies, shaking his head a bit. “You need to get that?” He asks once Jackson reaches for his phone, brows furrowing slightly as he moves his phone away - not that he was going to creep on whatever Jackson was looking at. “I can go if it’s bad time, the cookies are yours.” The EMT offers, not wanting to get in the way of anything, even though Jackson had invited him over. But Chase knew things came up all of the time, and he wasn’t gonna pick at it and start a fight. At least not with one of his friends. “Earth to Jackson, anyone in there?”

Jackson typed out a quick response to the picture before turning his screen off and tossing his phone down to the couch. “Huh? What? No, no, no,” he said with a laugh, waving Chase’s words off. He knew it had been rude to answer his phone while they were hanging out but he also knew that Mishka would have thought something was wrong if he hadn’t answered back. “Just a snap from my...friend.” Right, because that didn’t sound suspicious at all. The other man had already hinted he knew there was more to his ‘friend’ as it was. “You-uh--ya want anythin’ to drink or anythin’?” Jackson offered as he picked up one of the cookies he’d put down and took a bite.

“Mhmm.” Chase mutters in response, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Jackson was acting cagey, and it wasn’t the pain medication talking. “Nah, I’m good. Don’t trouble yourself, man. You should be restin’. EMT’s orders or whatever.” He says firmly, giving the brunette beside him a look, though he’s only half serious. He really doesn’t want anything though, pushing the sleeve of cookies back towards Jackson. “Don’t worry about me. You eat cookies and relax.”

Boy, was Beckie glad to see him again. Their relationship was purely based off of their profession, but he could tell that managing the store by herself and some newly hired employee hadn’t been easy. The second Anton had walked into work he saw how disorientated a lot of things was, but he was kind of happy for the distraction. It kept him busy for most of the shift and when his last hour was almost up he had been fairly surprised at how non-offending work was today. He had gone in expecting there to be some sort of Hell fire, alright poor choice of words considering the accident that happened recently, but he didn’t walk out of work with a permanent crease between his brows. Which, was a pretty rare thing to come by really.

As Anton walked back to Jackson’s place he texted Wade. His friend sent him that reminder about keeping Friday free and he had to reassure the Brit that he wouldn’t skip out. It wasn’t like he had a choice last time anyways- and even if he did he still wouldn’t have gone out to that art show. Not when Jackson had just gotten home and all of that. By the time he had his keys jingling in the doorknob he was smiling down at his phone. Leave it to Wade to say some stupid shit to try and ‘threaten’ him for the tenth time about not flaking out on the evening plan. “Гребаный идиот,” he muttered to himself as he unlocked the front door. “I’m back.” Anton pushed the door open and stepped inside only to toe off his shoes right away. “Beckie says hi by the way, and I have a thing on Friday to go to.” He pocketed his phone and nudged his shoes over towards the usual spot he left them but found the area occupied. Huh. Weird. Anton did a double take and frowned, but he didn’t think much of it until he went over towards the living room. “It’s an art show that Wa-”

Oh. Oh, fuck. His mouth remained open as he saw who was sitting on the couch. There was Jackson, of course, but there was also someone else that automatically made his stomach churn unpleasantly. It wasn’t because he found Chase unpleasant or anything, but it was more based off of the guilt he hadn’t gotten over. Anton pressed his lips into a thin line as he looked from one man to another. His hands flexed by his sides out of a nervous habit and he avoided eye contact for a moment. “Uh, hey.” It was said in the others’ general direction as he busied his eyes with the lily that sat by the windowsill.

Jackson had been in the middle of explaining how there was nothing left on Netflix that appealed to him when the door opened so he didn’t pick up on it right away and it wasn’t until he heard Mishka’s voice that he was aware they weren’t alone. He nearly choked on his cookie, a bit of panic rising in him immediately. Was his boyfriend home early or had that much time passed without him realizing it? He blinked up at Mishka as he stepped into the living room, his eyes a little wide. Not that he’d been doing anything other than hanging out with Chase, but that wasn’t what he was worried about being caught in. “M-Mishka...D-Did you get off early?” he asked, his voice shaking way more than he wanted it to. “This is my friend Chase, the EMT that bullied me into goin’ t-to the hospital.” Jackson turned back to Chase, trying to gauge exactly what was going through his friend’s mind at the sudden arrival of another guy in his apartment. “C-Chase, this is Mishka, my fr…” Fuck it, he was already caught now. “My boyfriend.”

Chase recognizes Mishka’s voice as soon as the other male lets himself in, and suddenly everything starts to click. The way both males are refusing to make eye contact, the way they’re both stuttering - this was the friend Jackson had been talking about. “Hey. We’ve met, actually. Over at the pool.” He replies calmly with a shrug, not about to throw Mishka under the bus. Obviously the other night hadn’t been brought up yet, and he wasn’t gonna do that to Jackson. “Yeah, don’t listen to him. I was just doin’ my job.” Gesturing vaguely, Chase shakes his head, moving to his feet slowly. “Jackson, it’s fine, you don’t-” He’s halfway through telling his friend that he doesn’t owe him an explanation when the truth comes out, causing him to pause. It wasn’t that he cared if Jackson liked guys or not, because it didn’t matter to him and it really wasn’t any of his business, but the fact that he had almost hooked up with his friend’s boyfriend a few nights ago was enough to cause concern, at least for Jackson. There was obviously more to the story there, but now wasn’t the time to get into it. “Well then I have instructions for ya, Jackson asked me to write ‘em out just to be safe.” The brunette finally adds on, nodding towards the kitchen. “I can go over ‘em with ya real quick before I go.”

He didn’t actually see how surprised Jackson was, but he sure could hear it. Hell, he could probably smell it if he wanted to the same old dramatic self he always was. Except he didn’t feel like that right now. All he felt was this crippling crash of how much of a shitty person he was all at once. It was always there in the back of his mind, but he was good at just going with it. Now though? Not so much. While a part of him was pleasantly surprised that Jackson admitted their relationship out loud, he couldn’t get over the fact that these two men were friends. Just leave it to him to find the one person that was on good terms with Jackson and himself. Anton cursed himself to hell and back internally as he finally sighed, but none of the growing tension in his body was released with the heavy breath. When Anton looked back over to the pair his gaze was tired and strained. The telltale tick jumped on the corner of his jaw as he listened to what Chase said. There wasn’t a reason to freak out, alright? There really wasn’t, but he felt his stomach go cold and his throat threatened to tighten. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be grand,” he said with a crooked smile that lacked the passive happiness he had walked in with. Anton rubbed the back of his neck as he went over towards the kitchen to see where the instruction were as he tried to keep his breathing steady again. Panicking wasn’t the solution to this, it never was for any situation, but the shitty part of his mind was already spewing crap into his conscious about how terrible of a person he was and the worst part was that he didn’t deny any of it.

Jackson honestly had no idea what had possessed him to introduce Mishka as his boyfriend. It was the truth, obviously and he’d wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t ashamed of that. And Chase was his friend, right? Surely if anyone would understand, it would be the EMT. At least, that’s what he’d thought but it didn’t seem to be the case with the way Chase was suddenly trying to get out of the apartment and how he seemed to pause at the admission. Even Mishka was acting off, but Jackson hadn’t noticed it as much because panic and worry was rising in him. Had he just lost another friend? It was the main question on his mind as Mishka and Chase moved towards the kitchen, the fact that the two knew one another not really clicking in the moment. “Y-Ya don’t gotta leave, Chase,” he called after them, though his voice made it clear he was already sure he’d fucked up. Jackson didn’t even bother to move from the couch, not wanting to make himself look even more ridiculous by trying to chase the EMT down.

Chase can hear the panic in Jackson’s voice and his stomach sinks, mentally cursing at himself. “You go ahead, they’re on the table.” He mutters to Mishka before moving back towards Jackson, offering his friend a smile. “C’mon, ya don’t need me watchin’ over ya if Mishka’s here. We’re good, I promise. As long as you’re happy, Jackson...that’s all that matters to me, y’know?.” The brunette says, trying to reassure Jackson as best as he could in the moment, carefully giving the other male a one armed hug. “I’m gonna go talk to Mishka real quick, do me a favor and take a deep breath or two? Ya look like you’re about to pass out.” Chase murmurs, protective as ever. Jackson was still Jackson, and who he dated wasn’t gonna change how he saw him. Returning to the kitchen, he grabs the paper, giving it to Mishka to read over. “Alright, sorry. It shouldn’t be too hard ta follow, just make sure the bandage gets changed a coupla times a day. I checked Jackson’s arm out earlier, it looks like it’s healin’ pretty well so far.” He says, unsure whether or not he should bring up the other night or not. Mishka was already panicking, and Chase didn’t want to make it any worse. “You have any questions?”

If he wasn’t in the turmoil of staying here in the present then he probably would’ve stayed in the living room to try and smooth things out. There really, really wasn’t anything to be so freaked out about because he knew that the thing that happened between Chase and him was in the past. Things couldn’t settle at just that though. Of course it couldn’t. Anton merely leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn’t a defensive pose but rather one that was more geared towards making himself smaller. If that actually worked it’d be a damn miracle, but he knew that it’d never come true. He listened intently to what Chase said, finding the instructions a nice distraction from the constant drone that ran in the back of his mind. “No, um, not really,” he said with a fraction of a shrug as he covered his mouth with a hand. The urge to chew on the insides of his cheeks came up but he pushed past it.

“But, uh, yeah if you want to stick around then that’s fine. If you’re into Cinnamon Toast Crunch then we have a ton of that shit here too.” It was a weak attempt to keep himself out of the caverns of his mind and it didn’t much to make him feel any more positive than before. “I’m just, going to go to the bathroom for a bit, yeah?” For what reason? He had no idea, but it sure as hell didn’t have to do with taking a leek or washing his hands. Actually, a shower sounded pretty great but then his mind quickly countered that with that one time where things went to shit in said shower. Anton just continued to smile tensely as he excused himself. He made sure to smile at Jackson as he passed by, and he really hoped that his boyfriend didn’t pick up on how thin his mental state was in. Again. It was downright embarrassing at this point. He had gone several years without a single break but now he was experiencing them left and right. It was a way for his mind to tell him that he needed to quit running from shit, but he really wanted to just deny that and look the other way. Anton got to the bathroom, and instead of leaving the door cracked open like he usually did, he closed it with a soft click. His to-go reason was because of how weird it might be to leave the bathroom door open while a guest over but that wasn’t the case at all.

Jackson had slumped back against the couch, prepared to accept the fact that Chase was walking out because of what he’d just admitted to, but he sat up again quickly when the other man turned back to him. Honestly, he was a bit surprised by what his friend said, having fully expected...well the exact opposite of acceptance. He couldn’t find his words in the moment, so instead he just nodded and pressed back into the half hug slightly, shifting back when Chase moved towards the kitchen. It took a moment, but he truly couldn’t recall a time when he’d gotten that reaction when coming out to anyone that he wasn’t getting naked with. Jackson settled back onto the couch, doing his best to breathe as Chase had said. He heard the pair talking in the kitchen and a few moments later, Mishka was passing him and heading off to the bathroom. The smile seemed a little...tight, but he didn’t think much into it just yet.

“Mishka...” Chase sighs, running his fingers through his hair slowly. “You don’t have to go anywhere, this is your place too.” If anyone should leave, it should be him, but Mishka has already disappeared down the hall and Chase is left in the kitchen staring at the space where the other man once was. Sighing, he sticks the instructions on the fridge with a magnet before walking back towards Jackson slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew he had to come clean about the kiss, especially now that Mishka walked off. “Hey...I gotta tell ya somethin’, okay? An’ I’m not sayin’ it because I want to make things weird or cause any trouble, but because we’re friends and you should know.” Chase says slowly, letting out a breath slowly. “I don’t know how long you guys have been together or anythin’...but the other night I ran into Mishka at a club and we went back to my place. We kissed a little, but that’s it, I swear. He started panicking an’ I got him a car to take him home.” The brunette explains, his eyes trained on the floor. “You know I never woulda done anythin’ if I knew about you two...I’d never wanna hurt ya like that, Jackson.”

Jackson had half expected Chase to head out of the apartment, but when the other man reappeared a few moments after Mishka passed by he just assumed his boyfriend had somehow convinced him to stay. His mouth had opened to make a comment on just that when the EMT spoke up first. And the way he was acting...The mannerisms plus the words were enough to make Jackson freeze before the other even finished speaking. Of course he knew about Mishka going out and picking someone up because his boyfriend had admitted to as much. But he’d never said the person he’d nearly had a drunk hook-up with was his best friend. The confession caught him completely by surprise and for a moment he just...sat there, not sure what to do or say.

Finally, Jackson’s brain seemed to kick back in and he shook his head over at Chase. “I-It’s not your fault, Chase. Ya didn’t know,” he said as he looked over at his friend. And that was the truth. He’d made sure to be so paranoid and secretive about Mishka and whatever they were that there was no way he could expect Chase or anyone to just know how he felt. Not to mention the fact that nothing was official until the day after this...encounter had happened. It still didn’t mean he was thrilled about the revelation, but Jackson knew that at the end of the day, the blame rested squarely on his own shoulders. “Thanks for tellin’ me though.”

“I’m still sorry.” Chase mumbles, forcing himself to meet Jackson’s eyes with his after a few moments. He had wanted Mishka to be the one who was honest with Jackson, but he also hadn’t wanted to lie any longer. Jackson was easily his best friend in Atlanta, and he never wanted to hurt him or make things weird between them. “I didn’t wanna be the one to tell ya, but...I didn’t wanna keep it from ya either.” He adds on, sighing heavily. “Look, you should talk to Mishka. We’ll hang out again soon, okay? I promise. But I should get goin’.” Giving Jackson a small smile, Chase heads towards the door, slipping his shoes back on. “I left the instructions on the fridge for you two. Don’t eat all of the cookies in one sittin’, yeah?” He jokes, chuckling softly as he lets himself out, heading back home.

Jackson would admit that maybe the news hadn’t been the easiest to hear, but he was doing his best with it. He just had to keep reminding himself that he and Mishka hadn’t been together and Chase hadn’t known. Still, he couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped a little and his face fell when his friend continued to apologize and shuffled to leave. He wanted to stop him, but at the same time, he knew Chase was right. He needed to talk to Mishka and there was a good chance that the EMT needed to get out himself. “Alright, yeah. Thanks like I said and I’ll see ya later,” he called as he watched Chase slip out the door. He sat on the couch for a few minutes longer, taking deep breaths and trying to figure out exactly how to talk about this with his boyfriend. Finally, Jackson pulled himself up from his seat and padded towards the bathroom. “Mishka? Baby?” he called out as he knocked on the door lightly. “Is everythin’ alright?”

The only question he had running through his mind right now was how he had gotten so weak. Since when did he let this side of him speak up and actually beat him down? He had always been cynical- at least ever since he had learned what sarcasm was and self deprivation, but it had never.. Hurt like this before. Then again, a lot of things hadn’t happened before since he was usually gone and out of any relationship that actually made him feel something. Maybe the reason was because he only had himself to look out for. He had to force himself to be somewhat calloused person he is today because he didn’t have anyone to fall back on, and now that he could he wasn’t sure how to accept it completely. It was new, everything was too new, and it was a moment of weakness that his self loathing self didn’t’ hesitate to jump on.

Anton honestly didn’t hear what Chase and Jackson talked about. He was more focused on taking deep breaths, holding it in and then releasing it. Most of the time he could avoid an episode by controlling how tense his body was. Right now though? It was a little bit more of a struggle than how it usually was. His hands clutched the edge of the sink as he closed his eyes. All he needed to do was just to breathe and it’ll be fine. He didn’t know that Chase was Jackson’s friend. Hell, he didn’t even know that they knew each other, and he tried his best to beat the guilt out of him. Yet, it was easier said than done. The moment he heard a knock on the door he gripped the sink even harder. His knuckles bled white and he cursed at himself for shaking a little. How could anyone want to deal with you? He honestly didn’t know. And yet here you are, still here about three seconds away from crying. Again. Yeah, yeah he was but he still couldn’t bring himself to just barge out and leave town. There wasn’t a single hint of want to do that anymore. He was just stuck in a rut and he didn’t know what to do. Anton ignored the way he winced from the pet name and made sure to suck in a really deep breath this time. “Um.” Amazing, really intelligent there. He couldn’t push another word out as he tried to mentally coach himself into letting go of the sink so he could at least stand upright.

Jackson waited silently on the other side of the door, doing his best not to fidget. The silence from Mishka was not a good sign. Then again, he didn’t hear sobbing so maybe the lack of sound was better than he thought. His shoulder began to ache out of nowhere and he shifted in his sling, the pain coming from how tense he was. Tense? When had that happened? Honestly, he thought he was handling all this fairly well considering it had come out of nowhere. Sure anger was simmering somewhere under the surface and definitely jealously, but all that was easily missed because of the guilt and the sense that this was all his fault. He should have manned up and handled things differently and then the opportunity for what had happened would never have presented itself.

Jackson’s ear pressed against the door at the mumble, hoping to hear more, but that seemed to be all Mishka had to say in the moment and it worried him. “Mishka, I’m coming in,” he announced as his hand went down to the doorknob. A turn proved the door was unlocked and he pushed it open slowly, wanting to give his boyfriend plenty of time to see him coming. He let out a sigh at the sight of the other man, gripping the sink and looking a bit pale. Immediately, he crossed over, shifting behind Mishka as a hand came up to rub over his arm. “Hey, are you alright, darlin’?”

This had to be the nth time he’s had to tell himself that he’s overreacting but it still didn’t do anything to calm himself down. He heard the door open but he didn’t look over. His eyes stayed closed until he felt his arm get touched. Anton didn’t flinch and he honestly didn’t understand why he even thought that’d be a reaction in the first place. There was a response lodged in his throat but he couldn’t seem to push it out at the moment. So he just proceeded to breathe normally until he felt his throat loosen some. “He tell you?” He asked, voice slightly hoarse from how strained he had been up until this point. There was an awful gnawing sensation in the bottom of his gut from a lot of different reasons that were mashed together, but he tried to keep himself as casual as he could afford to. If Jackson was mad then he wouldn’t be surprised. Actually, he’d be more surprised if he wasn’t mad.

Jackson knew his boyfriend enough to know his tells, knew that he was close to a panic attack and that tears were threatening just from the way his muscles tensed and how his voice seemed almost forced out. His hand continued to soothe over Mishka’s arm as it made it’s way down to close over one of the other’s own that was still gripping the sink with white knuckles. He tugged at the fingers lightly, trying to loosen the hold. “Yeah. He told me he was the guy ya went home with last week,” he answered, his voice calm and maybe even a little softer than normal. Jackson didn’t bother to add in the rest of the details Chase had given them, even if there had been few. Maybe that was for the best because honestly, anymore of a play-by-play would have put an image in his head he wasn’t sure he could handle. It had happened, Mishka and Chase had done whatever they’d done, there was no way around it. And a part of him knew he had no right to be upset about something that had happened in the past before he had a say, so he was doing his best to hold onto that. “But that don’t answer my question. I asked if you were okay, baby boy.”

He couldn’t even try and hold his breath as he waited for an answer since he had to keep breathing unless he wanted to really fall into another break. Just hearing those words come out of Jackson’s mouth sounded so wrong, but he couldn’t help but feel even more sick than before. It took him a few seconds but his fingers started to uncurl from the the hold he had on the sink. Anton opened his eyes a little, just enough to see the physical progress he was making. “Okay enough,” he said after swallowing thickly. Yeah, he was always okay enough. This would pass- it always did eventually and he was honestly so tired of falling in and out of this.

Jackson was patient as he felt Mishka’s fingers slipping away from the sink slowly and he twisted his own in with his boyfriend’s digits lightly. While he had to admit he hated to see the other man like this, it was getting easier for him to know just what to do for him when it happened. He pressed his body against his boyfriend a little more solidly and his chin dropped to rest on Mishka’s shoulder as he tried to catch his gaze in the mirror. “I’m right here with ya, babe. He’s gone, just so ya know. I-I’m sorry I didn’t know and I wouldn’t a’ had him over if I’d have…” His head shook lightly against Mishka’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

It was slightly humorous, in his own shitty reasoning of course, that he felt this bad about what happened. He had gone from sleeping with whoever almost every other night to this single person. The same man that kept easing him out of the current distressed state he was in. He still didn’t understand how Jackson could be this patient and not be fed up with how he acted. The feeling of his boyfriend pressed against him helped. Another deep breath was taken in and he let his eyes close again just so he could try and kick out the shitty feelings and thoughts that had almost dictated his mind. “Not your fault.” It really wasn’t and he wanted to elaborate more on that but he’d get to that later when he could say more than just a few words. “Don’t need to be sorry.” He was the one that should be apologizing but he didn’t want to say that while he couldn’t see. As scary as it could be, he felt like Jackson deserved more than just some half assed apology. His body slowly relaxed as he felt more grounded and stable. The next breath he took ended in a sigh as he opened his eyes all the way. He couldn’t help but look at their reflection. Wow, he looked like shit and he had been just fine a few minutes ago. Actually, that wasn’t true. He always had some sort of facade on whenever he was outside, but whenever he was here, at home, he let all of that fall away. So this was him. The real him and he still wanted to be scared of how open he was being but he let himself ignore it just so he could relax fully. “I’m sorry.” He had said it before but he still meant it through and through.

Jackson had honestly never found himself in such a situation. His boyfriend--of course that being a new situation for him in and of itself--and his best friend having a history together, however brief it was. He knew that he wasn’t willing to let something like a few kisses ruin either relationship and he could only hope the other two men would feel the same. He kept so few people close, relationships were hard to come by for him so the thought of losing any of the ones he had was not something he wanted to dwell on. He shook his head again at the apologies, catching Mishka’s gaze in the mirror finally and holding it as he moved to press his lips lightly against his boyfriend’s neck. “Everybody’s sorry,” he said, his tone almost sounding light as he shifted back to keep from trapping his boyfriend against the counter more. “But it happened and it can’t be taken back. So everybody’s sorry and that’s good. It’s over though, right? You’re not...interested in Chase, are ya? B-Because if you are, then…”

The urge to just melt into Jackson’s hold was tempting but before he could he felt the other pull back slightly. Then a look of surprise slapped the worried guilt off of his face a second later. It probably looked comical with how wide his eyes went but he craned his head around so he could stare at Jackson face to face. “There’s no fucking way I am,” he said with more strength than he had felt ever since he got back home. “You’re the only one I’m interested in- I only did that because I was fucking drunk and being really fucking stupid and honestly.. I was thinking about you the whole time. It’s the only way I could’ve done it and then I-” And then he went into a full on panic attack and just the thought made him suck in a sharp breath, but he didn’t fall apart again. “And then I panicked and got really sick but I swear I cleaned the toilet after.” It was jarring to go from only being able to say a few words to talking like a madman, but he couldn’t help it.

Jackson’s head spun a little with how fast Mishka seemed to turn around at his words and the sudden swing from near panicking to almost offensive had him blinking to make sure he hadn’t imagined it or the pain pills weren’t fucking with his head again. But his boyfriend was always full of surprises like that, zigging when he expected him to zag. Still, there was a part of him that was...hesitant. He was head over heels for Mishka and had been since the day he’d met him--even if he hadn’t known it then. But Chase...Surely he was better than Jackson. He was older and had more experience and...He let out a sigh, doing his best to stop the flood of his own thoughts. His head was never a good place to get stuck either. His hand came up to rest on Mishka’s chest and he forced his gaze up. “I hate it, alright. I know we weren’t official and I know nothin’ really happened...But you’re mine, Mishka. Chase is my best friend and I hate the thought of even him near ya like that but...I-I’m not mad at anybody but myself.”

Anton almost squinted his eyes at Jackson but he just stared with his brows slightly creased instead. It was nice to feel some contact again, and as much as he wanted to look down and visually reassure himself that this was as real as it felt, he held Jackson’s gaze without faltering. He reached up and covered the other’s hand with his own as he listened. It was surprising just how much he didn’t like to hear that ‘they hadn’t been official’ because there was a big part of him that was used to thinking that they were a pair. Which, again, slightly terrifying but he didn’t question it. It felt like his heart did a kickflip against his rib when he was told that he was Jackson’s, which he totally was, and then he only frowned deeper. “I am yours and I promise you that I don’t see him like that. Only reason that happened was because I was too afraid to let myself want you- to want this, but now that I have it- now that I have you you’re the only person I ever think about. Especially when it comes to kissing and that stuff, like I’m not joking when I say that you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

Jackson shifted his hand on Mishka’s chest to twine their fingers together once more and he moved to bring the back of his boyfriend’s hand up to his lips. It felt good to hear those words, a bit grounding. But he couldn’t help that he still struggled to let the weight of them settle onto him comfortably. Despite so many things, his insecurities were great no matter how much he tried to hide them. “You’re goin’ a lil’ overboard there, baby boy. My ego ain’t that big,” he said as he pressed another kiss to Mishka’s hand before letting it drop down a bit. In truth, he knew that his boyfriend was way more experienced in nearly everything regarding other people and relationships, love and sex. It was embarrassing to admit that out loud, though he was sure Mishka would find it out eventually. “Are we done hidin’ in the bathroom now? I really...wanna go sit or lay down.” Jackson hated admitting that he needed the rest, but he didn’t want to push himself like Chase had warned against.

A smile threatened to come to his lips from having his hand kissed but he kept that firm look on his face. “I’m not doing nearly as much justice as I could be,” he said stubbornly. “But you know mine’s the biggest since I’m so vain and all of that.” And oh look, there came the pessimistic and cynical side of himself again but he didn’t feel like he was being dragged down this time. Anton was back to how he normally was with statements like that and he was thankful for it. A part of him wanted to say that they weren’t hiding in the bathroom, but that was exactly what he had come in here for originally. He just nodded and waited for Jackson to take the lead since he was fine with both options.

“Do we need to whip ‘em out and measure right now?” Jackson teased. Mishka seemed to be feeling better and he definitely wanted to encourage that. What had gone down between Chase and his boyfriend wasn’t great, but it was in the past and he wanted to keep it there. Harping on it would just make everyone miserable. He offered Mishka a small smile as he turned for the door, tugging him along towards the couch. It was more comfortable lately because when he hit the bed, the urge to lay down and stretch out was strong enough to make the mountain of pillows he was exiled to more irritating than they really were. Jackson moved the box of cookies from one of the cushions before urging Mishka up as he settled down back in the spot he’d occupied before. “Are ya hungry? We can order somethin’.”

A soft snort escaped him as he followed after Jackson. “Rather whip something else out and measure,” he mumbled out loud before he could stop himself. Anton actually rolled his eyes at himself because now really wasn’t the time for that. It didn’t occur to him that his responding innuendo was what his boyfriend hinted at but he let it drop from his mind as he arranged himself on the couch. “Always hungry for something.” That he should want to have, and god he was going to bang himself upside the head with a frying pan or something. “But, nah I had lunch earlier on break but you want to order then I’ll eat too.”

Jackson was not the least bit bothered by all of Mishka’s innuendoes. If anything it just told him that his boyfriend was relaxing and feeling better. He settled down and tugged the other closer, tossing a bit of a smirk at the implications. Truth be told, sex hadn’t really been on the agenda...since before the fire. Wow, that realization hit him out of nowhere. Not that it bothered him, really, but Mishka’s teasing made more sense now, even if it wasn’t a conscious thing. “Maybe in a lil’ bit then,” he said as he moved to grab the remotes for the tv. The movement was met with a hiss of pain though because for just a moment he’d forgotten he didn’t have that other hand to use.

Anton merely smiled back tiredly as he leaned in close. It hadn’t been intentional but his lack of filter was in the negative numbers now with how scattered his head had been just a few seconds ago. “M’kay,” he mumbled back right before his eyebrows nearly flew to his hairline from the noise of pain. His hand was already lifted to, well, hover since he didn’t exactly want to reach out and touch the injured arm like he would have done instinctively. Anton leaned forward to get the remote and as he handed it to Jackson he turned towards the man to kiss him on the cheek. “What’d you have in mind?” He asked as he resumed his previous position before Jackson had tried to move.

Jackson let out a huff of frustration both at himself and the alarm on Mishka’s face. He’d get his shit together one day, but hopefully he wouldn’t be stuck like this for much longer. He accepted the remote and the kiss to his cheek soothed the irritation for the moment. Shifting around a little to get comfortable again, he clicked on the tv and began to browse through titles to see if anything caught his eye. After a moment, he settled on one of his boyfriend’s favorite movies and clicked play. “This,” he hummed out, tossing the remote to the table before he reached to tug a blanket down from the back of the couch.

He was thrilled to see what they were going to watch and it managed to pull a bigger smile from him even though he felt like he was about a minute away from falling asleep. Dealing with his emotions and mental health was a lot more tiring than any other physical exertion, but he was happy to spend this time together with Jackson. It seemed like there was always something out there to hit them over the head with bad luck so he was quick to appreciate small moments like this. They could use the rest and they were both healing. Well, it was in their own way, but it was fine. Everything was fine for now and he left it as that.

#para #para:chase #para:anton #you outta know

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