Chapter Text
Chapter 3
Simon and Jack returned to the conference suite to find Winston Deavor talking and shaking heroes hands as they gradually began taking their seats.
Winston’s eyes lit up when he spotted Simon walking in.
“Gazerbeam!” he called as he began walking up to Simon and Jack. Winston reached out and shook Simon’s hand with an enthusiastic smile, “It’s an honor, truly. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.”
Jack stood off to the side watching the interaction. From the CEO’s demeanor even Jack could tell the man was a Gazerbeam fan. Of course, Simon handled the praise with the usual dignified humility. After Winston finished his greeting, Simon looked at Jack and motioned that they should take their seats at the table. The other heroes having taken their seats quieted down as Mr. Deavor took his position at the head of the table.
The rest of the conference went just as Jack expected. Winston covered the next steps DevTech would be taking as the new heroes division got up and running. When the session finally ended, Jack was more than ready to go home. He stood up and stretched. Simon who had been next to him stood up with him.
“I suppose you’re going to head home now?” Simon asked.
“I have to, Si. I’ve got work in like two hours.”
Simon’s face portrayed a look of sympathy, “Will you be alright? I know you mentioned you hadn't slept.”
“I’ll be fine, I’ll just risk my cardiac health and chug an energy drink every three hours or something.”
Simon raised a concerned eyebrow.
“Sorry to interrupt," Winston said as he approached the two, “Jack, I heard from Rick you had some reservations about coming back.”
Jack nodded, “Yeah I did. But if you don’t mind Mr. Deavor, I’ve got work I need to get ready for, so if we could maybe do this another time…”
Winston’s eyes widened, “Oh yes of course. Here..” Winston reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Jack. “... this is my card. Please feel free to reach out to me whenever you’re available and we can set something up.”
“Sure, ‘preciate it. As for my way home, do I need to get a taxi or something? I didn’t exactly drive myself here.”
“Ah, yes that’s right. Mr. Kim was in charge of transport so let me call him.”
Winston took out his phone and tapped on the screen a few times before putting it up to his ear. It only rang once before Winston started talking.
“You’ll text me when you get home?” Simon asked.
Jack chuckled a little and folded his arms.
“Cute. You gonna ask me to share my location with you too?”
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
Jack whipped his head to the side to look at Simon who was gazing down. Winston got off the phone and re-entered the conversation before Jack could comment.
“Jack, if you head to the elevators and go to the parking garage, there is a car waiting for you.”
Jack nodded, relieved. “Well then, I’ll go ahead and go now.”
“Of course,” Winston replied, “ it was a pleasure to have you Jack.”
Jack gave one last look to Simon before turning and heading straight for the elevators.
Thankfully there was one already on the 60th floor, which cut down Jack’s wait time. Once inside, Jack glanced over the wall of 75 buttons and hit the one that had a “G” on it.
Jack let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, finally releasing the cordial facade. He was proud of himself, he’d played nice today. The old him would have probably subtracted from the population twice over and been in a straight jacket by now.
The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. Jack looked at the cement parking garage and saw the blacked out Chevrolet parked nearby waiting for him. One of the guys who had brought him here was leaning against the car.
“Mr. Hart, glad to have you back.”
Jack rolled his eyes and quickly walked to the car pulling the back door open.
“Yeah sure,” he snapped, sliding in, “Just take me back.”
As the driver began driving the car up the winding exit, the man sitting next to Jack handed him a set of keys. His keys.
Jack took them and glared at the man, “do I want to ask why you had these?”
“You left in a hurry and didn’t lock your doors.”
“Gee, and who’s fault would that be?” Jack replied as he imagined how gratifying it would feel to smack the man, “I know you have my knife too.”
The man smiled and pulled out the butcher knife handing it to Jack. Setting the knife in his lap, Jack leaned his head against the car window and closed his eyes.
In twenty five minutes, the Chevrolet parked in front of Jack’s home. With a mumbled thanks, Jack got out and headed inside. The first thing Jack did was change into an extra set of scrubs. The next was to fall into his bed and pull out his phone. Jack searched up a specific name and began typing out a text.
–
Simon, who was still at DevTech, felt his pocket buzz. Pulling out his phone, he looked at the notification on the screen.
Jackson Hart
Home.
Simon opened the text thread and began typing out his reply when he paused. On the text thread were smaller, dimmed words that were below Jack’s text.
Jackson Hart has started sharing his location with you.
Simon smiled.
– ☢ –
Saturday came quickly for Jack. After finishing a hellish shift running on literally no sleep, he finally got to shower and sleep for a solid 13 hours. The only upside to the past two days was the constant string of texts he and Simon had shared since the conference. The two had agreed upon today to go to the gym together, which was why Jack was now pulling up to the lawyer’s house.
He put his Porsche into park and looked at the house of Simon Paladino. The dark red brick home looked older but prestigious. It was lined with white trim on the roof, corners and around the arched double front door. The windows were elongated and had different cream brick accenting the bottoms. The front yard was just as well kept. There were a few trees and boxwoods that were landscaped to draw the eyes to the center of the home.
“Christ Simon, just how much do you make?” Jack mumbled as he tried to appraise just how much the mortgage of this place would cost.
Jack noticed one of the double front doors open. Simon emerged, dressed in comfortable gray sweats, a simple black t-shirt and carrying a water bottle. He walked up to the car with a smile when he saw Jack. As he opened the door and got into the passenger seat, Jack caught a faint hint of cologne Simon must have been wearing earlier for work. And damn. He smelt good.
“Nice house,” Jack said, putting the car in gear.
“Nice car,” Simon countered with a smile.
“Thanks. Her name is Midnight,” Jack informed nonchalantly.
Simon’s eyes rose in amusement. “Her name?”
“Yup. A sexy car like this is definitely a her,” Jack confirmed.
Simon laughed, a little happy that Jack had kept some of his weird tendencies after all this time.
As Jack pulled off from the curb, Simon’s gaze lingered on what Jack was wearing. He had on slightly baggy clothes. A black baseball cap, black sweatpants and hoodie that was just slightly oversized. Simon admitted to himself that Jack certainly looked attractive– his blonde hair peeking out from the dark cap was definitely a plus. The relaxed look took years off of him, making him look like he was in his early twenties again. But Simon was also puzzled. Why had Jack chosen such thick layers for the gym? Was he cold?
"Quick question. Have you ever ridden in a Porsche before?" Jack said, bringing the lawyer out of his analysis.
Simon blinked. "I haven't, but as I said it’s a nice car."
"It's fast too," Jack said, as a devilish grin spread across his face.
Simon opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a sudden surge as Jack floored the gas. The Porsche roared onto the highway, a dark blue blur of pure adrenaline. For a few unhinged seconds, Jack wove them in and out of the traffic while wearing a wide smile.
“Okay I’m done,” Jack announced as he slowed back down to a legal speed.
Simon, whose knuckles were white from gripping the overhead handle and the center console for dear life, slowly released his breath. He turned to Jack, a look of profound disbelief on his face.
"You are going to get us pulled over," Simon stated flatly, his voice tight with professional warning and sheer shock.
Jack threw his head back and laughed. "It’s a good thing my attorney is sitting right next to me then, isn't it?"
Simon let out a long, weary sigh that sounded less like disapproval and more like resignation. When Jack's laughter faded, they settled into a comfortable silence until they finally arrived at the gym.
Jack found a parking spot and quickly maneuvered the Porsche in. They both got out, and Jack walked to the front of the car, popping the hood. He grabbed his gym bag from the small, but surprisingly deep compartment.
"Wait, is that your... trunk?" Simon asked, slightly confused.
"Yup," Jack confirmed, throwing the bag over his shoulder. "That’s one of my baby’s unique features. The engine’s in the back, so you get a trunk up front, a 'frunk,' as some call it." He gave Simon a playful nudge. "It throws everybody off at first."
The two of them walked through the doors, causing the employee at the desk to look up.
“Jack! Hey man!”
“Hey Dylan,” Jack replied.
Simon noted that the two seemed pretty friendly with each other.
Just how much does Jack come here to be known by name? Simon wondered.
Dylan looked between Simon and Jack. “Brought a friend with you today? What are ya’ll planning to hit?”
“Chest and tri man,” Jack said with a grin as he scanned his membership card.
“Hell yah! Well, ya’ll have a good workout!”
“Will do!” Jack called back as he and Simon walked away and toward the locker rooms.
Once they were inside, Jack sat his bag down and pulled out his headphones. Simon glanced around at the manu lockers that lined the walls.
“Should I put my keys and wallet in a locker?” he asked.
“Nah, just put them in my bag, I’m bringing it out there with me. Here.”
Jack unzipped a side pocket of his bag and held out his hand to Simon. Simon relinquished his belongings and watched as they were secured.
“We’ll start with some dynamic stretching first– get a warm up in and then maybe the bench if it’s open,” Jack said as he stood up and slung the bag’s strap over his shoulder.
Simon nodded and followed Jack’s lead outside. Jack led Simon to an open area where it looked like other gym goers were warming up or performing body weight exercises.
Simon found himself mimicking Jack who went straight into it after setting his bag down. Jack’s movements were fluid and clearly practiced– first, slow, wide arm circles to loosen the shoulders, then transitioned to tricep arm swings, crossing his arms over his chest and stretching out his tricep muscles. Simon followed, his arms still stiff, feeling the tension across his upper back from sitting at a desk most of the time. Simon copied a few of the other warm up exercises until Jack paused and looked expectantly at him.
“You good to go?” Jack asked.
Simon nodded and watched as Jack turned and began heading in the direction of the third of the gym filled with various kinds of machinery and weights.
Jack plopped his bag down at an empty bench.
“When was the last time you benched?” Jack asked.
“Maybe a year ago?” Simon admitted, pausing as he genuinely tried to recall the last time he’s done heavy lifting.
“Jesus Simon…” Jack grumbled, “Let's start with 35’s and see how you feel.”
Simon nodded as he followed Jack and grabbed a 35 plate and slid it onto the bar.
“Spot me, would ya?” Jack said as he slid onto the padded bench and laid down. Simon nodded and stepped closer to the bar, his knees close enough to brush Jack’s hair slightly.
Jack placed his hands on the bar and looked up, which he immediately regretted. Simon was looking down at him from a suggestive angle. Jack swallowed.
God help me, he thought as he willed himself to regain focus.
The focus was weak as he proceeded to get his warm up set over with– thank god 115 lbs was light work.
Jack sat up and switched places with Simon who was also secretly unfocused. Jack looking up at him in a position they never would have been in was jarring, but for a certain reason he would never admit, he didn’t mind it. Simon laid down and placed his hands on the bar. It’d been a while since he’d benched, that was made obvious by the way he adjusted his grip several times before finally committing.
“How’s my form,” Simon breathed as he did a couple reps.
“Eh, good enough for now.”
Simon looked up to see Jack looking down at him with his arms folded and a smirk.
Simon squinted his eyes close, to combat the laser-like heat he felt accumulating.
“You good?” Jack questioned as he observed Simon’s preventative behavior.
“Yeah sorry,” Simon answered quickly as he re-racked the bar, “just got focused for a second.”
“Ahh,” Jack replied, “Yeah I guess it would be difficult to explain why a hole appeared in the ceiling.”
Not the ceiling, Simon mentally corrected, it’d be hitting you, Jack.
Simon finished his reps and sat up.
“Will you be fine if I add more weight?” Jack asked, gesturing over the rack that held various plates.
Simon nodded, “Yeah, if you want to do what you usually do, I’ll be fine.”
Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow. “If you say so.”
Simon watched as Jack came back with a 45 in both hands. After handing one to Simon, Jack slid the weight onto the bar and laid down to begin his second set.
Simon unintentionally focused on Jack’s deep, rhythmic breathing as he began.
Che provocazione… Simon thought as he cast his gaze to the side.
Jack finished the set and sat up, releasing a heavy exhale.
Simon switched positions with Jack, and immediately regretted where his mind had wandered as he looked up at Jack.
“Jesus Simon, with all this eye contact you’re giving me, I might start thinking you like me or something,” Jack joked with a chuckle.
Simon masked his nervousness with a smile, “You’d be a lucky man to pull me,” he replied and was hit with instant regret. Why had he chosen to say that?? Why? Why? Why?
To remedy his embarrassment, Simon wondered if he should just drop all 205 lbs on his neck. Simon decided to just get this set over with, achieving as many reps as he could. He got to 7… then failed.
Jack immediately grabbed the bar and helped him re-rack it.
“Jesus, Simon…” Jack muttered.
“Sorry,” Simon replied, slightly dejected.
“Hey, no, no. You did good, it’s just been a while. You’ll be right back where you used to be in no time.” Jack attempted to encourage.
That’s not why I failed the rep, Jack, Simon wanted to say, but chose not to with better judgement.
Jack sighed and announced he’d be doing one more set before they’d move on. Simon watched as Jack grabbed another pair of 45 plates, loaded the bar and settled into the bench. He performed his reps with focused intensity and that rhythmic breathing again. Simon couldn’t help but realize Gamma Jack was still very much there, just reigned in behind the mask of a civilian pharmacist.
When Jack finished his final rep and racked the bar with a sharp, controlled clang, he immediately sat up. Simon helped Jack unload the plates and watched as Jack wiped the bench surface down to disinfect for the next person.
“Alright,” Jack said rubbing his palms together, “let’s snag that cable machine for some flys next. Come on.”
Jack grabbed his gym bag , already heading away from the bench press. Simon, whose heart was still beating a quick rhythm, nodded and followed the blonde to the opposite side of the gym.
Jack stopped at the cable machine and quickly set the pins, pulling one side of the attachment for a quick test. He then casually selected a heavy stack.
"You're up first, counselor," Jack said, stepping back from the machine. Simon walked forward, ready to adjust the weight down to a manageable level for his first set in a year, but froze as he saw the pin Jack had chosen.
That is... 90 lbs per side, Simon thought, his lawyer-brain immediately doing the mental calculation. The weight was ridiculous, especially for an isolation movement. Jack noticed his hesitation, a smirk crept onto his lips.
"Don't worry," Jack said, his voice low, "I'll spot you."
Simon's focus broke entirely. He finally backed away, deciding to watch Jack's set first.
Jack smiled, but grabbed the handles and proceeded to complete his set with a shocking control and power that made the heavy stack of weight seem like an easy warm-up.
Simon stared, suddenly wondering what Jack was hiding beneath the oversized clothes. Jack finished, and gestured for Simon to take his turn. Simon quickly knocked the weight down to a manageable number, determined to lock in and get the set done.
He started his first rep, feeling the burn instantly. His arms shook, his form started to break, and the lawyer in him screamed to stop, but the sheer, stubborn, superhuman endurance kicked in and told him he was finishing. He ground out the final reps and stumbled back from the machine, catching his breath, grateful for the crazy high endurance that always got him through a struggle– even if it was a voluntary one at the gym.
Jack stepped up and again, did his set with controlled ease. The two traded places until Jack called for the next exercise: inclined dumbbell press.
Once they were settled on an adjustable bench, Jack walked along the wall of free weights and stopped at the 75 lbs and brought back, settling into a seated position. Simon noticed the bench looked elevated by maybe between 30 or 40 degrees. Jack used his thighs to get the dumbbells up and above his head. After a pause he began his reps.
He must be insane. What could he possibly get out of being this strong as a pharmacist? Simon wondered as he watched in awe.
Jack set the weights down and stood up. Simon’s eyebrow raised as he watched Jack grab the bottom hem of his hoodie and pull it over his head.
Simon’s jaw nearly dropped at the view he was suddenly presented with. Beneath the hoodie Jack had been wearing a spandex dri fit top that hugged his body in the most flattering way. Simon had to constantly look away to break off the charging lasers he could feel about to shoot off, which would give away exactly where he was staring.
“Santo cielo…” Simon mumbled, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry?” Jack questioned.
“Oh nothing,” Simon played off.
Jack laid back down and finished his set before giving his seat up to Simon.
Of course, Sime barely registered the weight Jack had been suggesting for him, his mind was still stubbornly fixed on the view Jack had so graciously provided. Simon attempted to reign himself in and get into the zone, but the image of the tight dark top that revealed the muscular silhouette Jack had been hiding had been burned into his mind.
Simon pushed the dumbbells up, his eyes kept attempting to catch a glance to the side, where Jack was standing.
Focus Paladino, you’re here to work out, he chastised himself, but to his dismay he was weak to the view that kept replaying in his mind.
His chest burned, the lactic acid hitting him faster than it should have, Simon suddenly remembered to breathe. His focus wasn't on the weight, it was on the sheer absurdity of the situation. Him straining under dumbbells while a casually jacked, single nuclear pharmacist stood inches away observing him.
Simon gritted his teeth and pushed through the final, shaky reps, finishing the set on pure adrenaline and desperation to look competent. He sat up and set the dumbbells down with a clatter. As he stood up his mind was reeling as it refused to focus on anything else besides the pharmacist that was currently taking a seat prepared for another set.
After Jack finished, he stood up and carried the weights back to their spot and racked them with a thud. With the chest portion of their workout complete, Jack wiped down the adjustable bench with some spray and a towel.
“Triceps next,” Jack announced, “Let’s do some overhead pushdowns. They're great for isolating the muscle.”
Simon, still breathing hard and desperately trying to regain his composure, simply nodded and followed.
Jack stopped at an open cable machine and set his bag down. Simon watched as Jack attached the Tricep Rope and adjusted the pin on the weight stack. Jack took a couple steps, facing outward.
Simon observed as Jack kept his back neutral, and his elbows steady. The exercise looked easy as he watched Jack complete his set.
Simon traded places with Jack and traded positions. What he thought was easy was much more difficult than he realized. Simon knew the weight was heavy but he felt like he needed to utilize his whole body just to do a single rep.
“Hey Simon,” Jack began, “Your elbows are flaring. Do you mind if I just– I need to adjust your grip a little. Is that okay?” Jack asked hesitantly.
Simon nods and relinquishes the weight back to its resting state.
Carefully, Jack stepped closed behind him and placed a firm, but gentle hand on the small of Simon’s back. Jack’s other hand reached up to Simon’s elbow and flattened out acting like a barrier.
“Try again, but keep your elbows steady. Don’t move my hand back,” Jack instructed.
Jack’s hand placement had Simon out of his goddamn mind. Jack was well beyond the boundaries of personal space and was looking at Simon with beautiful hazel green eyes.
Simon’s focus was completely short circuited. The world narrowed to the sudden overwhelming heat of Jack’s hand firmly pressing into his back. Simon felt the heat of Jack’s chest against his back, leaning in to anchor Simon’s form.
I can’t do this, Simon thought to himself clearly distracted by Jack’s close proximity.
“Simon,” Jack said with an amused tone, “Try moving the weight. Please.”
Simon cursed himself as he knew Jack had totally seen his hesitation. Simon immediately tried to redeem himself and go straight into a rep.
“Nice!” Jack complimented as he stepped back, “I think you got it. Just keep your back straight and elbows steady.”
Simon just nodded, trying to desperately focus on the weight instead of the lingering ghost of Jack’s touch on his arms.
The two switched places several times before Jack finally called it.
“Alright, that's good for the heavy stuff. Let’s cool down with some static stretches,” Jack announced.
Simon, who could already feel his muscles begin to protest, followed Jack without a second thought.
Jack led them away from the machines to a quiet corner near a open area that was clearly designed for stretching and pilates. Simon watched as Jack didn't bother with a mat, just simply sitting down on the polished floor and extending one leg, then folding the other inward for a modified half butterfly stretch.
He leaned forward, slowly sinking his chest toward his thigh. Simon watched, vaguely impressed by the stretch, until Jack reached an impressive depth. Jack's head touched his knee– not with effort, but with a serene, casual ease. Simon was already attempting the same stretch, bracing himself for the inevitable tug in his hamstring. He could barely get his torso past a 45-degree angle.
Jack then moved to a seated, single-leg forward fold. He reached past his toes and, instead of pulling gently, he rested his chin on his shin. His back was flat, his hips were perfectly square, and his whole body seemed to melt into the pose. It was unnervingly graceful.
Simon watched, his own effortful stretch abandoned. The flexibility was beyond what he could ever achieve. It was something honed, something almost unnatural. Simon remembered the power of Gamma Jack, but this was a different kind of strength, a disciplined pliability.
How does he do that? Simon wondered, noticing the sculpted lines of Jack’s back and shoulders,, as he held the impossible stretch. It was a detail Simon’s mind cataloged instantly. Simon shook his head slightly, a small, involuntary smile tugging at his lips. He needed to get back to stretching, or he was never going to live this down.
The stretching complete, Jack stood up with an easy grace that showcased his flexibility. Simon, still hunched over his own struggling attempt at a hamstring stretch, groaned and slowly straightened.
“Alright, I think that’s good for today,” Jack said as he picked up his bag.
Simon nodded, wincing a little as he stood. Together they walked back to the locker rooms. Once inside, Jack headed straight for the sinks, scrubbing his hands with meticulous, almost frantic care. The lab had instilled in hims a deep repulsion to the germs of public places, and touching the communal bench press bar and weights only magnified the impulse.
Jack returned to the main area, toweling his hands dry when he noticed Simon focused on a fogged glass door with white signage spelling out “SAUNA.”
“You want to go in?” Jack asked, trying to guess what Simon might be thinking
Simon turned his gaze to Jack with a hesitant look on his face.
“I was, actually.”
Jack smirked, “Then head on in, but we’re only doing ten minutes, otherwise I may overheat and pass out.”
Simon’s face brightened. “Ten minutes is perfect, thanks Jack.”
Jack’s heart sank in sympathy at the gratitude Simon voiced. Simon held the door open as Jack followed him into the cedar-lined room. A wave of intense dry heat hit them. Thankfully, they were the only two in the sauna. Jack had been bracing himself for the god awful sight of several pale, sweaty, over-weight older men.
The two settled across from each other on a bench. The silence between them was immediately thicker than the dry, hot air. Jack watched as Simon’s chest rose and fell in a slow, deep rhythm as he leaned back letting the heat do its job. Jack followed the outline of Simon’s chest up to his hair which had already succumbed to the humidity, curling into a tight texture.
After Jack double checked that there were no cameras, he finally broke the silence.
“How is the hero work going?” he finally asked.
Simon considered the question for a moment before answering.
“It won’t be an easy balance that’s for sure,” Simon chuckled, “But that’s why my firm came in. We outlined a system for heroes so that their scope of practice was clearly drawn out, Jack.”
Simon made eye contact with Jack then quickly looked back down at his folded hands.“ The whole system is better than what it was, Jack. DevTech has modeled it’s heroes division after that of our other first responders.”
Simon looked up at Jack to see him leaning forward in an expectant pose with his fingers interlaced.
Simon read this as a good thing, and let an enthusiastic smile grace his lips.
“The training will be nothing like the old days, Jack. Think tactical training, search and rescue, and drills that focus on each of our strengths.”
“So the same as first responders?” Jack asked with a slight smile.
“Exactly,” Simon replied, a beat of silence passed between them before Simon spoke up again, “Are you sure you don’t want to come back as Gamma Jack?”
Jack sighed, glancing at his phone to see how much of the ten minutes they had left.
"Simon, to be honest with you, Gamma Jack is dead. When the ban happened, all of us separated. I didn't just lose my career, I lost my identity, and whatever I considered my self worth at the time. The NSA, my so-called friends, and the fans that Helen brought up the other day, weren’t there when I was at my lowest. So I built myself up into what I am. So why in God’s name would I risk the only real stability I’ve ever had, for people who never cared for me when things got hard?”
Simon was stunned, the immediate silence of the small, hot room amplifying the harshness of Jack’s words. An immediate sense of guilt filled his chest. He’d been so consumed by his own mission– getting his life back, building up his firm, and fighting for the legality of supers that he hadn’t spared a single thought for the emotional wreckage of his former friends. Simon had kept a few tabs on Gamma Jack, had known that he’d gone quiet, retreated in on himself, but he hadn’t grasped the isolation that the former hero went through.
Simon’s jaw tightened, a bitter taste flooding his mouth. Simon paused and looked at the man across from him. He had his hands folded, ankles crossed and eyes closed as he leaned back against the cedar paneling. The truth caused Simon to begin to understand the logic Jack used in declining to come back as Gamma Jack. In reality, it wasn’t about the money or 401K, it was his self preservation and what little pride he had left.
“You’re right,” Simon admitted, after a slow exhale, “I get it.”
“Do you really?’ Jack pressed.
Simon closed his eyes with a hidden sadness, “yes.”
When he finally looked at Jack, he saw a man who was desperately trying to hide away the brokenness in his eyes.
Simon realized that the old Gamma jack was a memory of the past. The current Jack in front of him was someone else, someone obsessed with protecting his peace and stability.
The two men held a silent gaze for a heavy second. Jack’s eyes portrayed a silent mask of exhaustion that refused to subside, but Simon could see there was a deeper emotion beneath the surface. One that Simon recognized. It was forgiveness.
Jack inhaled softly, clearly attempting to gloss over the heavy air that had accumulated between them.
“Ten minutes are up, Si.”
Simon followed Jack as he pushed himself off of the wooden bench and exited the sauna. Simon absentmindedly follows suit, still attempting to process the emotional debris of Jack’s honesty.
The following minutes followed in a blur for Simon. Jack had packed himself up, handed Simon’s wallet and keys back to him and led him outside into the parking lot.
Only when Simon slid himself into the passenger seat of the Porsche did he come back to reality.
Jack was already in the driver’s seat, starting the car’s engine.
The drive back to Simon’s house was mostly quiet. Jack didn’t push the speed limit this time, settling into a nearly domestic feel with Simon in the passenger seat. A few minutes later, Jack pulled up to the curb in front of Simon’s house.
Simon opened the door, but didn't get out immediately. Instead, he ducked his head down, so his gaze was level with Jacks.
“Are we going to do this again tomorrow?” Simon asked, hopeful that Jack would say yes.
Jack’s tired eyes met his. It was clear that his previous confession was weighing on him still.
“Of course,” Jack replied, "I'm not on call tomorrow, so whatever time you want to go is fine with me, counselor.”
Simon smiled as he continued to take in the view Jack unintentionally gave him.
“Good.”
“And I won’t take ‘I’m too sore’ as a response either.”
Simon smiled, he knew better than to tell Jack he felt pretty good for someone who had undergone exercises they hadn’t since the glory days.
“Sure. Whatever you say, Jack,” Simon replied.
Jack threw his back slightly with a chuckle. Jack sat there for a moment watching Simon as he made his way inside his home. After he ensured his friend was inside safely he shifted his Porsche into gear. He was genuinely happy that he and Simon had been reunited, even if it had been under less than optimal conditions.
–
The following morning, Jack woke up to the buzz of his phone at 8 am. Still groggy, he picked it up and saw that the notification was from Simon.
Simon Paladino
You are a menace. My whole upper body feels like I went toe to toe with a level 5 villain. I’m about to rename you ‘Gamma Menace’ in my contacts.
Jack let out a low chuckle that was still influenced by the heavy sleep in his voice. He typed out a reply and hit send.
Jackson Hart
We’re just getting started, counselor. Looking forward to picking you up this evening for another round.