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Some nebulous time in the future…
Angus MacGyver was the kind of guy who was grateful for the little things.
For example, Bozer waited until Jack came back from the Kovacs mission before moving in with Leanna—well, that was how he liked to tell it anyway. In reality neither Bozer nor Leanna had been ready for that kind of commitment; Mac did his duty as a best friend by staying mum when Bozer stopped giving him rent so he could keep the lease on the apartment, and even helped him paint the walls and rip out carpet on the weekends. He also suspected that his best friend would’ve felt guilty about moving out and leaving Mac alone during what was a difficult time for the whole team.
But now that Jack was back, and the world seemed to have stopped spinning at an odd angle, Bozer was ready to take the next big step with his girl… and Mac found he had no desire to rattle around by himself in his house. Jack had been gone for long enough that he’d broken the lease on his own apartment, and instead of spending a ridiculous amount of money storing his stuff at one of those warehouse places, Mac and Desi had rented a U-Haul and emptied the place out for him one weekend. They took everything back to Mac’s house, up to and including Jack’s precious cigar box, which had now had a sealed envelope with his name on it sitting on top of it that Mac pretended not to see. He knew what kind of letter it was (if you’re reading this…), and just thinking about the circumstances in which he would’ve had to open it made him feel sick.
After they’d gotten everything from furniture to moving boxes stacked up in the living room (because after the whole giant bomb under his house incident Mac wasn’t crazy about the basement), Desi had put her hands on her hips and looked around contemplatively. “Why doesn’t Jack just move in with you when he comes back instead of renting another shitty apartment?”
The idea… had never occurred to Mac. Sure, Jack had stayed over plenty of nights after one too many beers or a mission gone awry, but the last time they’d lived together was in Afghanistan. And Mac was pretty sure that wouldn’t help him get rid of the highly inappropriate crush he’d had on his very male, very straight partner for years now. “I’m not sure Jack would be into that, Desi. Besides, Bozer’s still here.”
Desi snorted. “Yeah, and by the time Jack gets his ass back to the States, Bozer and Leanna will be doing gross couple stuff in their own place.” She punched Mac in the shoulder much more gently than she would have when they first met. “Just something to think about, boy genius.”
Mac had thought about it, and now here he was with Jack a few months later, unpacking the same boxes and putting together Jack’s bedframe in the spot where Bozer’s used to be. To say he had been surprised at how quickly Jack agreed to move in with him would be an understatement; then again, finding a place to live in Los Angeles was like looking for a needle in a haystack and it was probably the last thing Jack wanted to deal with right now. Plus, there was a small, secret part of Mac that liked the idea of having Jack close after being apart for so long, and this was a way to do that without seeming clingy.
Jack whistled, breaking Mac out of his out head. “Wow, I haven’t seen some of this stuff in years. How many t-shirts do I have?”
“Too many,” Mac said, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice even with his back turned to his partner—and it felt good to think of Jack as his partner again. Desi was an amazing operative and a complete badass, but there was no way she was ever going to replace Jack. “Good luck trying to fit them all back in your dresser.”
Jack chuckled. “I’m more concerned with whether they’re all here, hoss—never told you this, but you’re kind of a kleptomaniac.”
Yeah, because you smell good, Mac thought, swallowing back the words at the last second. He was breaking down the boxes they’d emptied so they could be recycled, and as he sliced through a strip of tape with his Swiss Army Knife, something fell out of the bottom of the box he was holding and landed by his feet. The weird thump-thump his heart did when he almost said something too close to the truth forgotten, Mac crouched down to pick up the object. “Hey, what’s this?”
“Huh?” Jack turned a little to look, one eyebrow raised. “Looks like a picture.” His gaze flicked over the remaining boxes, calculating what they’d already unpacked, and his eyes widened. “Mac, don’t—”
But Mac did. And immediately died laughing.
He’d flipped the picture over and was greeted by the sight of Jack probably fifteen years ago, the plain blue background indicating it was a shot for a CIA alias dossier. Taken from the chest up, Jack appeared to be wearing nothing but a pair of leather suspenders and his hair… his hair looked like some kind of mangy blond animal had upped and died on his head. It was much longer than Mac was used to seeing, cut almost like a mullet, and dyed so poorly Jack’s dark roots were still visible through the bleach.
Mac actually slumped to the floor with the picture clutched in both hands, laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes. He could barely talk, but managed to wheeze out, “Oh my God, Jack, what the hell is this?”
“That was a very unfortunate choice made by a government-employed stylist,” Jack replied, not so subtly trying to swipe the picture from Mac and failing miserably. His voice was tight with embarrassment, which brought out his Texas drawl. “And you need to put it back right now and pretend you never saw it.”
“Oh no, no way—are you kidding me? I have to show this to Riley,” Mac said in between gasps for air. He couldn’t stop smiling, staring at that stupid haircut and the even stupider look on a younger Jack’s face; that was why he wasn’t expecting it when Jack tackled him in an attempt to wrestle the picture away. “Hey, stop it!”
Jack grunted when Mac’s elbow caught him in the stomach but held on, batting at the picture with one hand, which Mac was now holding above his head in an attempt at keep-away. “Give it back, Mac—I promised myself that nightmare would never see the light of day again and I meant it!”
They tussled on the floor for a while, less like grown men and more like kids, and Mac couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so goddamn happy. He didn’t even mind when Jack eventually won their play-fight, rolling so he was on top of Mac, so close they were almost nose-to-nose. Forgetting why it was a terrible idea to be this close to his partner, Mac just grinned from ear-to-ear at him, the kind of dopey expression that only Jack could bring out.
Jack stared down at him, the look in those warm brown eyes transforming into a soft, liquid sort of thing Mac had never seen—and that wasn’t right, because he knew every one of Jack’s expressions. Before he had a chance to analyze it, Jack leaned down and pressed their lips together.
~***~
Jack Dalton had done a lot of stupid things, but kissing his partner—the partner he’d just gotten back, by the way—was the new reigning number one. But goddammit, he was only human, he’d been in love with the kid for years now, and seeing the look of pure sunshine on Mac’s face had broken the already crumbling infrastructure of his impulse control. Because as sappy as it sounded, Mac was Jack’s sunshine in so many ways, and to have those rays of light directed at him after so much time in the dark was too much to bear.
Mac’s lips were softer than Jack expected, and there was only a nanosecond of hesitation before his partner kissed him back. Mac’s arms wrapped around Jack’s back, inviting him to press closer, and how was he supposed to say no to that? Settling his weight on his forearms in something of a daze, Jack felt himself shiver when Mac made a pleased little sound and deepened the kiss, squeezing Jack’s hips with his thighs when their tongues met. Unfortunately breathing soon became a necessity, and Jack pulled away. He stared down at Mac with nothing short of awe, and almost forgot how to breathe with Mac grinned at him again like he had before the kiss.
“We’re idiots,” Jack decided aloud, one careful hand pushing the hair out of Mac’s eyes, bottle-blue and staring up at him with more affection than he deserved. “How long have you wanted to do that?”
“Since the Sandbox,” Mac admitted. One of his hands skated down Jack’s arm to lace their fingers together against the floor. “When you came back for me instead of going home to Texas.”
Jack shook his head, barely able to believe how blind they’d been. “That’s because Texas wasn’t home anymore, darlin’.”
He was helpless to do anything but laugh when Mac rolled them over and started kissing him again.