Chapter Text
It’s easier for Jack to go through the pictures when he gets to the studio the next morning. His eyes are still a little bit swollen, and he doesn’t know what to do about the bags under them, but at least he doesn’t feel like he’s going to start crying again when he sees how much Eric loves Gavin and Gavin loves Eric as he scrolls through.
Usually when he does shoots, Jack’ll look through all the pictures he took and pick the best ones to upload, depending on what the customer paid for. For Gavin though, Jack is glad he doesn’t have to picture favourites because if he’s being honest, he couldn’t. They’re all his favourite, showing Gavin smiling and happy, eyes crinkled when he’s wearing a costume that he especially likes. He had pulled silly faces in some of them, laughed loudly when Eric laughed and Jack sniffs loudly, realizing how special it is that he was able to capture some of those moments.
He scrolls faster, until he comes to the pictures of Eric that Gavin took and Jack spends exactly a professional amount of time going through those before he just makes sure he clicks to select all of the photos they took last night to upload, including the empty ones of the background. He thinks Gavin will like that.
The link to the website goes into blank email when they’re all done. Jack carefully types the email address into the TO box, and puts GAVIN’S PICTURES in the subject line. He taps his fingers on the keyboard without hitting any keys once he’s in the body part of the email, trying to decide what to write. He’s got a template that he normally uses to send out the links, but nothing about this shoot has been normal.
Hey Eric! , he starts, but he never uses exclamation points so he quickly backspaces and puts a comma.
Here’s the link to Gavin’s photos , Jack continues. Duh, he thinks but doesn’t backspace. They turned out great- I hope he likes them! Jack frowns at the screen. Is a smiley face too much? He types one. And then erases it. And then retypes it, chewing on his lip as he stares at the email and wills himself not to start crying at the thought of pictures being what Eric has to remember Gavin.
Jack jumps when there’s a knock on the closed door and he realises that it’s already after 10 and he should’ve unlocked the door like five minutes ago. She waves when she sees she has Jack’s attention, her other hand going to support her back. Jack stands, but before he goes to unlock the door, he types out Best, Jack and hits send. He hurries to unlock the door and welcomes Meghan in so he can officially starting his day.
There’s nothing in Jack’s inbox when he finishes the shoot, and nothing shows up during the day either, despite Jack noticing the has been link being used to download the photos. Jack shouldn’t have expected anything—he’s never been overly invested in getting a reply back from customers before— but he can’t help the twinge of disappointment that pulls in his stomach anyways.
- - -
Winter melts into Spring and Jack thinks about getting his winter tires taken off, for an entire month and a half before he actually gets it done. It snows the day after anyways and everyone Jack talks to hears about it, until the snow stays away for good and Jack starts booking more outdoor shoots since his equipment won’t freeze. He takes to closing early on days he’s spent driving around to different locations, tired from all the time spent in traffic and working with mother nature to get the shots he wants.
He’s just locked the door after doing a big prom shoot on a Tuesday afternoon when there’s a knocking on the glass. Jack turns around to see a small face in the window, grinning and waving frantically. It takes Jack a second to place Gavin without a tube under his nose and fluffy blond curls sticking up around his head like a halo. Jack blinks.
“Hi, Mr. Jack, do you remember me?” Gavin shouts and that’s when Jack knows he’s not imaging anything.
He knows his jaw drops and he knows that Gavin keeps talking through the glass, can see his mouth moving, but Jack can’t get past Gavin being here. Jack stares at Gavin, at the lack of bruises under bright eyes and the baby fat in his cheeks that he didn’t have before and the excitement that he can’t contain, until a hand runs through Gavin’s hair and Gavin twists to look up at Eric. He doesn’t have bags under his eyes either, and in facts looks well rested and well. Jack’s mouth goes dry. Eric smiles widely when he makes eye contact with Jack and gently pulls Gavin away from where he’s still pressed against the door. It takes Jack a beat of staring at Eric before he realizes he should unlock and open the door.
“Hi,” Jack says, once he’s opened it and stepped back to let them in. Gavin’s in the middle of a story that Jack missed the beginning of, but that’s okay, Jack’s happy to listen to sweeping timbre of Gavin’s voice, whatever he’s saying. It’s so different from the rough voice of the sick little boy that Jack remembers Gavin being, and he’s so, so glad for the change.
“Gav, breathe,” Eric says, interrupting Gavin. “Give Mr. Jack a chance to answer.” Gavin sucks in a more dramatic breath, causing both Jack and Eric to look at each other and smile.
“So do you like it, Mr. Jack?” Gavin asks, blinking up at Jack.
Jack blinks back, realizing that he completely lost the train of Gavin’s monologue in between reflecting how much stronger he looks now. “Er, what?” he asks. He looks to Eric who’s grinning down at Gavin. He taps Gavin with the box that Jack’s just noticed Eric has been holding this whole time.
“Both hands Gavin,” Eric warns, carding a hand through Gavin’s curls. Nodding, Gavin takes the box carefully and offers it to Jack.
“This is for you,” Gavin says, shaking it a little when Jack’s slow to take it.
“Wow, thank you,” Jack says. He looks at Eric. “You really didn’t need to.”
Eric shrugs.
“Daddy really wanted to. He said—he said making things are a way good to sa-say thank you,” Gavin says. Eric’s cheeks pink up, but he doesn’t look away from Jack. Jack feels warm as he smiles back.
“Are you gonna open it?” Gavin asks. Jack blinks.
“Should I?” he asks.
Gavin rolls his eyes. “Yes, Mr. Jack, that’s what you supposed to do with presents,” he explains. Jack snorts, but brings the box over to his desk so he open the lid without fear of dropping it.
“Gavin,” Eric warns. He gives Gavin a look before they both turn to watch Jack cut through the piece of tape on the lid. Jack smells the pie before he really takes in how perfect it looks, crust crispy and golden, with just a bit of caramelized apples peeking through the cuts in the center. Jack’s never seen such a good looking pie.
“You made this?” Jack asks Eric.
“I said I’d make you one when I had time. I wasn’t sure what kind you like, so I just made apple because everybody likes apple. I can um, make you another if you don’t like apple,” Eric says. Jack shakes his head.
“No, I like apple,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Apple’s my favourite,” Gavin says. “And so is peach, and cherry, and lime. Daddy makes the best pies, but sometimes I help him.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, he-he lets me lick the bowl.” Gavin’s hair bounces as he nods and Jack has to smile.
“This is for you too,” Eric says, holding on an envelope. Jack takes it, sliding his finger along the flap.
“I licked that too,” Gavin tells Jack proudly.
“Good job, bud,” Jack says. He pulls out a homemade card, smiling at the picture Gavin drew on the front. He feels his mouth pulls down at the corners though, when he opens it and sees a cheque written out, his name spelled out on the payee line.
“Eric,” Jack says. “I told you—”
“Jack, c’mon. Those pictures were absolutely gorgeous, worth more than you can ever imagine.”
“I said I wasn’t going to take your money, Eric” Jack says softly. He folds the cheque, baulking slightly at the directness of Eric’s stare, his eyes the colour of a perfect cup of coffee. Jack rips the cheque anyways, puts the halves on top of each other and then rips that into quarters and then eighths. Eric sighs, shaking his head.
“You’re a stubborn man, Jack.”
Jack shrugs. “You made me a pie.”
“That was no trouble.” Eric looks at Jack, chewing on his lip. “At least let us take you out for dinner too,” he says. Jack opens his mouth but gets interrupted.
“Dinner!” Gavin twists to look at his dad. “Dad, is Mr. Jack gonna come to, to dinner with us?”
“Why don’t you let him answer Gavin,” Eric says gently, poking Gavin’s nose. Gavin laughs and wrinkles his nose, grinning up at Eric. They share a smile before looking at Jack, waiting for his answer.
“I’d love to go to dinner,” he says.
Identical grins break out on Eric and Gavin’s faces.
- - -
Eleven Years Later
“Awww Gav, look at you.”
“Ohmygod.”
“Your little smile was adorable.”
“Stop it dad, please. I’m begging you.”
“It’s still pretty cute.”
Gavin swings his head to shoot a betrayed look at Jack.
“Noooo, not you too papa. I thought you were on my side,” he whines, doing a great impression of himself at five. Jack knows this because he was there, at Gavin’s fifth birthday and every one after, first invited as “Mr. Jack” because Gavin brought it up the first time the three of them shared a meal, and then because as Eric’s boyfriend, Jack got a standing invitation to all family celebrations.
“I am on your side. You were such a cute kid though,” Jack replies.
“You’re just saying that because you took the picture.” Gavin rolls his eyes, gesturing at the photo Eric stopped on as he went through the photo album Gavin gave them for their third wedding anniversary.
It’s one of the first pictures Jack took of Gavin, and though Jack has seen these pictures millions of times, has multiple copies of the pictures on multiple hard drives that have followed him through moving studios and houses, these pictures and the memories attached to them are special to Jack. In the photo, Gavin is smiling widely, despite the gauntness of his face and the tube under his nose, and he’s spread his arms out in some sort of post like he’s a superhero. He looks smaller and sicker than Jack remembers, but that might be because now Jack knows what Gavin healthy looks like. His smile hasn’t changed since that night, all teeth and nose scrunched up, just like how Eric smiles too.
“Honey, Jack could be the world’s worst photographer, and his pictures would still show that you were the cutest kid,” Eric says, continuing to flip through the photo album.
“Thanks bud,” Jack says dryly.
“I’m not saying you’re a bad photographer, I’m just saying. Our kid’s pretty cute,” Eric says, flipping to the next page.
“Yeah,” Jack agrees.
Gavin sticks out his tongue, managing to look pleased at the compliment from Eric, even as it comes with a delayed hair ruffle.
Jack loves them so much.