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Help! I'm quarantined with my flatmate and I think I'm falling for him

Summary:

"My flatmate keeps giving me lil kisses when he thinks I'm asleep. How do I ask him to do it when I'm awake too?"

Notes:

i am absolute trash and i hate myself my friend sends me a reddit article and i'm suddenly inspired after NINE MONTHS of not writing anything

why do i have this inspiration to write a 5k+ fanfic in two days and not the inspiration to write a 3.5k essay that's worth 70% of that module >:(

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

David is sitting on the couch when Jack comes home, still wearing his painting clothes. “You’s awake,” Jack says.

David nods. “Just woke up. How was class?”

Jack drops his bag and portfolio at the door to their shared bedroom (a one-bed was all they could afford, being broke students in New York City) and lets out a big sigh. “Chaotic. Even more than usual. I couldn’t get no work done, everyone was so tense.”

David shrugs. “It’s a pandemic, the natural thing is to be scared but we can’t let that stop us from going about our daily lives. Maybe with a little more caution than usual.”

Jack hesitates. “Hang on, how long have you been asleep?”

“A couple hours, maybe?” David replies, checking his watch.

“Shit. You ain’t seen it, then.”

“Seen what?”

“Check your email inbox. Like, right now.”

“Jackie-”

“Dave, seriously. You’s better off reading the damn thing than have me try and explain it.”

David rolls his eyes and picks up his phone from the coffee table, wondering just why Jack is so on edge. His email inbox has received five new messages since the last time he checked it this morning, and instead of marking each one read systematically he taps on the one from university administration right away. After just a few seconds of skim-reading, David shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” Jack sits down next to him, scanning his face as he reads.

“They’re cancelling classes?”

“Yep. In-person classes, at least. They’s gonna try and do as much as possible online, but I don’t see how your labs’ll work, and my criticism seminars’ll be a real hoot over Skype.” Jack pulls out a half-eaten chocolate bar from his pocket. “Race says they’s doing the same at Juilliard and the rest of the schools in the city, and Specs told me that he knows someone whose father works on the NYU board of governors, and they’s thinking about cancellin’ exams, on account of they don’t think we’ll be coming back after spring break. And according to Medda the governor’s probably gonna put the whole city on lockdown by this time next week.”

Sighing, David leans his head back on the couch. “Well, today took quite a turn,” he says. “Are the class cancellations effective immediately?”

“Nah, we still got until the end of this week.”

“Damn. I really didn’t want to go to my lab tomorrow. Six hours of watching clear solutions until they turn pink.”

Jack chuckles. “It’s your fault for studying chemistry and physics. I never understood why people would voluntarily study science or math.”

“You never understood science or math, period,” David smirks. “I had to tutor you, remember?”

“You enjoyed it,” Jack scoffs before standing up. “Imma go do a grocery run, see what essentials I can find. And by essentials I mean snacks from the dollar store to last me through quarantine.”

“Are you not going back to Medda?” David asks.

“Nah. I thought about it, but spending every day inside with my foster siblings for an indefinite amount of time sounds like hell on earth. Plus, with her theatre closing Medda can’t afford to have one more mouth to feed. She’d never say that to me, but I can’t put that pressure on her,” Jack sighs. “What about you, are you gonna go home?”

“I’ve already talked to my parents, in case something like this happened. Les is immunocompromised so we decided it’d be best if I stay here and not endanger him.”

“That’s rough, Davey. You sure you’s okay with that?”

“Yeah, I want to protect my family. Besides, I need to make sure you don’t burn the apartment down.”

Jack laughs. “That’s harsh, Dave, I’m wounded. You really don’t trust me?”

“Judging by the number of times you’ve set off the fire alarm while cooking…” David says, raising an eyebrow.

“How was I s’posed to know pasta has to be cooked with water?” Jack exclaims. “And you’re not to tell anyone about that, ‘specially not Racer ‘cause he’d kill me for sure.”

“My lips are sealed. Now go get us some quarantine snacks.” Davey shoos Jack away.

“Fine, fine. And before you ask, yes, I’ll get you some of those horrible spicy Cheetos. I don’t know why you like them so much.”

David smiles cheesily at him. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

David dozes off again once Jack leaves. He wakes up with a blanket wrapped around him and Jack humming as he cooks dinner. A bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos sits on the coffee table in front of him.

---

At the end of the week, David says goodbye to his classmates and lecturers and buys a box of cupcakes on the way home. Jack is already sitting on the couch playing a video game, but looks over and smiles as soon as David enters the apartment. His gaze immediately lands on the box. “Is that… cake?” Jack says, pausing his game.

“I thought we should celebrate the end of the school year,” David says.

“With cupcakes from that store in Soho? Davey…”

“I know, they’re not the cheapest but they’re closing indefinitely so today was our last chance for a while.” David puts the box on the kitchen counter and opens it up.

Jack grabs a cake and is halfway through it when he speaks again. “How’re you holding up? I know you’s not awful pleased about your classes getting cancelled.”

David hums. Jack has buttercream icing on his nose and it’s adorable. “It’s disappointing, but at least we don’t have to pay next term’s tuition. I’m more worried about being stuck inside with you.”

“You take that back right now!” Jack gasps, holding a hand to his heart in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know I’m a joy to be around.”

“Tell that to your dirty laundry,” David shoots back. “Hey, you mind if I crash on the couch for a bit? My classes today really took it out of me.”

Jack frowns at him. “Y’know you don’t need to ask me, right? ‘S not your fault you’s all narcoleptic.”

David’s gaze drops to the counter. “I know, but you’re normally out at class or at the studio whenever I take a nap. Now you’re going to be in all the time and… maybe I should start napping in my bed.”

Jack lays a hand on David’s shoulder. “Hey, Davey, no. You just keep doing what you’re doing. I didn’t mind back when we were at school, or when we was roommates in first year, I don’t see no reason why I should start minding now. Just for God’s sake make sure you have a blanket, else you’s gonna wake up shivering. I ain’t turning up the heating for ya.”

“Why should I have a blanket if you’re just going to put one on me?”

Jack’s eyes widen and his joking expression drops immediately, and David wishes he could take back what he’d just said. “Well, it’d save me the trouble,” Jack replies sheepishly. “I don’t want you waking up cold and grumpy, and I also don’t want to pay more than we already do for heating.”

David gasps. “Does Jack Kelly care about me?”

Jack laughs and slides off the counter. “Shaddup,” he says, but David knows he means of course I do.

---

As it turns out, Medda’s right about the lockdown: the governor instructs everyone in the city to stay at home three days later.

For the most part, things stay much the same. Jack still gets up before David and wakes him up with a cup of coffee and the soft way he says David’s nickname. David still naps on the couch once or twice a day, but more often than not Jack makes sure he is there either when he falls asleep or when he wakes up, if not both. They hang out with Race and Spot, and Crutchie and Specs and Romeo and Albert and Elmer and the rest of their friends, but they do so over Skype. David calls his family every day to check up on them. They have frequent film nights, although David often falls asleep in the middle of them with his head resting on Jack’s shoulder. They both work still – David is able to work from home as a part-time journalist and Jack moves his art studio from the Village to their living room. It’s messy, but David doesn’t mind. He likes watching Jack paint, splashing seemingly random colours across a canvas until they gradually blend into a beautiful landscape. His face is both full of concentration and completely calm, both of which rarely happen at any other time. David often finds himself falling asleep as Jack paints, lulled by the soft jazz he likes to play while he does so.

However, there are some small but significant changes.

The first occurrence is during one of these times, when David falls asleep to Jack painting a large canvas a very dark blue, almost black. When he wakes up, he first notices the blanket on top of him, which isn’t unusual. Then he notices that he has a hand in his hair. And that the aforementioned hand is not his own.

He cracks open one eye and spots Jack’s legs propped up by the coffee table. His tablet is on his lap and he appears to be working on a digital drawing with his right hand as his left hand rakes through David’s curls.

This is new.

Not Jack working on a tablet, although David knows that he prefers traditional painting. Jack has never touched David’s hair before, except to ruffle it playfully once or twice. But this is different: instead of ruffling his curls, he’s gently, absentmindedly combing through them. And David realises that he likes it.

It’s grounding. It’s caring and intimate and he likes the feeling of Jack next to him.

And suddenly Jack notices that David’s awake because his hand stills, as if unsure whether to keep going or to pull away.

“You’re awake,” Jack points out quietly.

David hums. “That’s looks really good,” he says, nodding ever so slightly towards the canvas, which is now half-covered in colour, bright galaxies in pink, purple and blue.

“Thanks, Dave,” Jack says sincerely. He finally removes his hand from David’s hair, and David is forced to suppress a whine at the sudden lack of contact. Seriously, what has gotten into him? “It’s my last commission. Since the pandemic announcement, painting requests have totally dried up.”

David sits up and looks at Jack, who is sitting with a rare forlorn expression. “I’m sorry, Jackie. Is that why you’re doing digital art now?” He gestures towards the tablet.

“Oh, no, I jus’ wanted a break for a minute. Painting the same thing for hours on end… I don’t like when things get dull.”

“I know. That’s why you never paid attention in math.”

Jack nudges him in contempt before his expression turns thoughtful. “Wait, do you think I could do digital commissions?”

David shrugs. “It might take a bit of practice to get as good in Photoshop as you are in real life, but digital artists doing really well right now. People do commissions on Tumblr, although that’s usually for portraits. We could see about opening you a Redbubble, you could sell art prints, or notebooks, or stickers, or T-shirts! I would totally wear one of your artworks on a T-shirt.”

“You think that’d work?” Jack asks.

“I don’t see why not. You’re so talented, I’m sure people would jump at the chance to buy stuff with your art on it.”

A smile grows on Jack’s face and David’s heart sings at the fact that he caused it. “You’re a genius, Davey Jacobs. A genius and a lifesaver.”

David laughs, his face growing hot at the compliment. “What would you do without me, huh?”

“Oh, I’d be long dead. Probably engulfed in flamed during the Great Pasta Tragedy of 2019.”

“Can I watch you draw?” David asks.

“When have I ever said no to you watching me draw?” Jack scoffs. He throws his left arm around David’s shoulders and pulls him in, and David watches as Jack paints a sunset.

---

Nothing of note happens for a few days. David starts to wonder if the hand-in-hair incident was a fluke.

He really hopes it isn’t.

David is just finishing off his article for his newspaper when he feels a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him. He knows that there’s no point in trying to get any more done and closes his laptop, sliding down until he’s flat on the couch. He doesn’t bother pulling the blanket from where it’s draped over the back of the sofa. He’s been deliberately falling asleep without one because he knows that Jack will put it on him, and who’s to judge if he wants a little attention while he sleeps?

David’s already half-asleep when he hears the door open. Jack’s back from his grocery shop, but he’s too sleepy to open his eyes and greet him. He listens as Jack puts down the bags and wash his hands (for just ten seconds; David needs to remember to teach Jack how to properly wash his hands). Jack tuts and his footsteps approach David on the couch, and then David feels the weight of a blanket draped over him.

There’s a moment of silence where Jack doesn’t move away.

Then David feels Jack’s thumb brush his cheek. He tries not to flinch at the sudden contact, and then-

Are those Jack’s lips?

On his forehead?

Oh.

Oh.

Holy shit.

David realises he’s holding his breath and prays that Jack hasn’t noticed, but all too quickly the lips are gone and so is the hand and Jack’s footsteps are retreating to the bedroom. When the door closes, David finally lets out his breath.

What the hell was that?

As he slips out of consciousness, David doesn’t know whether or not he wants to remember that happening.

---

David remembers the forehead kiss when he wakes up, so it’s definitely not a dream or an exhaustion-induced hallucination. And after thinking it over, he realises that he liked it just as much as the hand-in-hair thing a few days ago.

When David was growing up, he knew that his family loved him. And he loved his family. But they were never particularly… physically affectionate. David would rarely receive hugs for no reason, and he certainly wouldn’t kiss any of them on the cheek or forehead. This stayed with him all the way through his teens and made him, well, awkward when it came to showing physical affection. When he first befriended Jack and the boys, he would stiffen up at any contact and turn bright red at the offer of a hug. He’d like to say he’s better at it now, but he’s still far less likely to initiate the physical contact. He much prefers to demonstrate his love through words.

Jack on the other hand… with the rough childhood he’s had, David’s surprised that he’s this naturally affectionate. He takes every opportunity to throw his arm around David’s shoulders and pull him in for a hug. He playfights with the boys and even kisses them on the cheek every so often. He may not be as good with words as David, but he’s certainly better with actions. Kissing David on the forehead seems like a natural move of Jack’s.

So why is David overthinking it?

Maybe it’s because Jack’s never done it to David while he’s awake. David’s seen Jack kiss Katherine on the cheek, and Crutchie, and even Race (well out of sight of Spot, though), but never him. Probably because he thinks David would hate it, with the way he flinches a little at any surprise contact. But doing it while he’s asleep – or, at least, while he believes David is asleep – it seems so intimate, so vulnerable. Like Jack’s exposing a part of himself that not even David, his best friend, sees.

And that makes David feel a little guilty that he did witness it.

But not guilty enough to do a minor investigation into the phenomenon.

Because at the end of the day David is a scientist. And scientists conduct experiments to answer questions.

The question is: does Jack Kelly kiss David’s forehead when he thinks he’s asleep often?

The hypothesis is: if Jack Kelly does it frequently in the future, chances are it’s happened before.

The method is: David will pretend to be sleeping every so often over the next week while Jack is around. Jack may or may not kiss David’s forehead when he inevitably comes to cover him with a blanket. Either way, David will have his answer. And he’ll try not to be disappointed if his experiment turns out one way over the other.

---

The experiment yields good news and bad news. Which is the good news and which is the bad news depends entirely on perspective, so David decides to label them Result A and Result B.

Result A is that Jack kissed David’s forehead or cheek (once) four out of the five attempts throughout the week. An eighty percent success rate is pretty darn good for a home experiment and although a repeat really should be done, David is pretty confident that his hypothesis is true.

Result B is that the experiment has led to some… interesting realisations on David’s behalf.

David has always believed that he is straight. Sure, he has never been in a relationship before, nor has he ever desperately wanted to be in one. He just assumed that one day in his late twenties he would meet a nice Jewish girl and they would settle down and start a family, just like his parents did. But during the course of the experiment David ended up liking the forehead kisses even more, to the point where he started wishing Jack would do them while he was awake. And maybe a kiss on the lips too…

That doesn’t sound very straight.

It’s not like Jack isn’t good-looking, either. Davey would readily call him ‘handsome’, maybe even ‘attractive’ if you liked that sort of thing. And does he? He doesn’t really know. What he does know is that he’s started feeling what he could only assume are ‘butterflies’ whenever Jack smiles at him or throws his arm around his shoulders or talks about art. He originally passed it off as a feeling of close friendship, but he and Jack have been close friends for years now, why would this feeling appear just now if it weren’t… something entirely different.

And this train of thought leads David to the gut-punching realisation that he has just developed a pretty big crush on his best friend. And it’s just his luck that his first crush is guaranteed to be unrequited.

He’s eating a sandwich and feeling incredibly sorry for himself when Jack emerges from the bedroom. “You got one for me?” Jack asks playfully. His eyes widen when David pushes a plate towards him. “Y’know I was kidding, right?”

“You don’t want it?”

“No! Sure I’ll have it, I ain’t refusing free food.” He grins and takes a bite. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

David’s heart skips a beat as he immediately jumps to conclusions, picturing the worst-case scenario in his head, where Jack discovers his feelings and moves out and stops being his friend and… David tells himself to act normal. “Sure. What’s up?”

Jack scratches the back of his head, a nervous tic that David easily recognises. “Well, I noticed you’s been sleeping more than normal the last few days. Have you been feeling okay?”

David swallows. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jack frowns. “You sure? ‘Cause I’m not dumb, and I know that your narcolepsy gets worse if your mental health does. Remember senior year, when your anxiety got so bad you had to take a week off school on account of you couldn’t get out of bed?”

“I remember,” David replies, wincing. “But I’m okay, I promise.”

“I know this whole lockdown thing has been hard, and I wanted to let you know that if you need or want anything you can come to me, right? I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything.” Jack doesn’t move his gaze from David’s eyes, and David just knows his face is turning bright red.

“Yeah. Thanks, Jack. And you can tell me anything, too,” he manages to say.

“For sure. You want to watch a movie?” Jack asks.

“Okay. There’s a new tiger documentary on Netflix, it looks interesting.”

Jack frowns. “If you’s into that kind of thing. Okay, but if any tigers get hurt during it I’ll throw a fit.”

They sit close to each other on the couch as the show starts. David is overly conscious of every part of his body that’s touching Jack, and doesn’t dare move until Jack pulls him into his side. After one episode David’s already dozing off and he rests his head on Jack’s shoulder.

“If any tigers die, don’t tell me,” he murmurs.

“Sure thing, Dave,” Jack replies.

He falls asleep to the feeling of Jack’s hand absentmindedly raking through his curls.

---

“David, you have to get me out of here. I’m going crazy.”

David chuckles. “Is it really that bad?”

Katherine’s eyes are wide. David can hear the faint sound of classical music from somewhere in Katherine’s house. “You have no idea. My father is driving me up the wall with his conference calls and ‘family walks’ and baroque music.” She scowls when David laughs. “Don’t mock my pain! At least you’re still living with someone who understands you. How is Jack, anyway? I trust he hasn’t started another kitchen fire?”

“He’s fine. Honestly I think he’s happy he’s finally got complete creative freedom. No teachers judging him, he can work whenever he wants without cycling to his studio, did he tell you he’s taken up digital art?”

“I saw his post on Instagram about digital commissions. And he’s opening a Redbubble soon. It’s really exciting he’s trying out something new.”

“Yeah.” David swallows. “I, uh, actually wanted to talk to you about… a related topic.”

Katherine frowns. “Okay. You guys haven’t fallen out with each other, have you? I don’t think the universe could take such a thing.”

David rolls his eyes. “Stop it. No, we haven’t fought. Jack’s been as great as ever. But…” He takes a deep breath and lowers his voice so that he’s certain Jack won’t hear him from the living room. “I think I have feelings for him.”

Katherine blinks. “You what?”

“I think I like him. Like, as more than friends.”

A smile grows on Katherine’s face. “Okay then. So when did this happen?”

So David explains everything, about the blankets, and the hand-in-hair incident, and the forehead kiss that led to the experiment, and the realisation, and finally the kitchen conversation after the realisation. Katherine is silent for a long moment once David finishes.

“Okay,” she says finally. “So do you want my advice, or…”

“Sure, as long as the advice isn’t ‘tell him’.” Katherine pulls a face, as if to say that’s exactly my advice. “Kath…” he whines.

“Why is that such a bad idea?”

David glares at her. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he definitely doesn’t like me back? This has the potential to ruin our friendship. And I especially don’t want to make things awkward while we’re stuck in the same apartment together.”

“Why would it ruin your friendship? Jack’s bi, so it’s not like he’s going to judge you. And I think he’d rather you were honest with him. He did say he wanted you to tell him anything that was bothering you.” Katherine sighs as she realises this isn’t convincing David. “Okay. Maybe I have an inkling that Jack might feel the same way.”

That gives David pause for thought. “You do?”

“I’ve seen the way Jack looks at you. It’s kind of like how he used to look at me when we were dating, but… more. Like you’re the whole world to him.”

David takes a shaky breath. He knows he’s blushing. “You think?”

“It’s only a suspicion. But it’s enough for me to know that even if Jack doesn’t return your feelings, he won’t let them damage your friendship.”

“How should I tell him, then?” David asks. He’s well aware that hope is a dangerous thing, but one of the perks of knowing Jack Kelly for so long is that danger doesn’t scare him like it used to.

“That’s something you’re going to have to plan yourself, I’m not doing your work for you,” Katherine says bluntly. “My only advice is not to make it a big thing. Be discreet. This isn’t Hollywood.”

“Well, there go my plans of proposing to him with fireworks,” David deadpans.

---

David spends a lot of time thinking of a good way to bring the subject up. He can see why Katherine suggested not to make a big thing of it, he doesn’t want to put any pressure on Jack. So flowers or chocolate are out of the question (besides the fact that the florists are closed and chocolate isn’t really an essential, no matter what Jack says). He even thinks that having a formal conversation would be too confrontational.

So David forms a plan.

Later that day, he’s dozing on the couch when he’s awoken by the front door opening. He keeps his eyes closed as Jack puts the groceries away and pads over to the couch. The blanket is pulled over David and… Jack kisses his forehead.

Showtime.

David grunts tiredly. “Y’know, you don’t have to wait until I’m asleep to do that,” he says, his voice heavy with sleep.

He hears Jack’s breath catch and opens one eye. Jack is frozen, half bent-down as he was pulling away from David. “Davey, I… I didn’t know you was awake. Did I wake you?” he asks, voice an octave higher than usual. It’s sort of endearing.

“No,” David lies. Is Jack… blushing?

Jack slowly straightens up. “Um, I’m sorry if I’s been overstepping boundaries. I know you ain’t a fan of physical contact.”

“Well, it did surprise me at first. But I like it.”

“You do?” Jack frowns until he understands the look in David’s eyes. “Oh. You do.”

David hums in agreement.

Jack breathes in, then out. “Okay. We should talk about this. But some time when you’s not half-conscious.”

“I’m fine,” David says, despite the fact that Jack’s right: he really could use another half an hour of rest.

Jack chuckles lightly. “Go to sleep, Dave.” He ruffles David’s hair lightly and disappears into the bedroom.

David sighs. That could’ve gone better. But he’ll deal with the fallout when he’s finished his nap.

---

David has woken up and moved from the couch to the dining room table when Jack emerges from the bedroom. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Jack replies. “What’cha working on?”

“An article on the power of art in quarantine,” David says.

“Oh really?” Jack sits down next to him. “What are you saying?”

“Well, one of my points is that my roommate is an artist and paints landscapes that provide a window to the outside when we have no access to it.”

“That’s very insightful,” Jack says bemusedly. “I kinda wish I’d came up with that.”

“Do you think I’d be able to put a couple of your paintings in it? And a link to your social media?”

“I’d do anything for some free publicity,” Jack says. His expression turns warm. “It’s really sweet that you’re writin’ about me.”

David shrugs, feeling himself blush. “I know you’ve been struggling with commissions, and a lot of other artists are too. But I think art’s just what we need right now.”

Jack smiles at him. “Look, I thinks we should talk about what happened earlier.”

David saves his work and shuts the laptop. “You’re right. I’m sorry if I took you by surprise.”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologising, Davey. I overstepped. How many times have you caught me… you know?”

David thinks for a second. “Seven, including today.”

Jack leans back in his chair. “Jesus Christ. And ya didn’t think to tell me?”

“I meant what I said earlier. I like it. And… you don’t have to wait until you think I’m asleep to kiss me.” David lifts his eyeline to look at Jack, who’s staring at him, eyes wide.

“Dave… you should think before you say stuff like that. You might give a guy the wrong idea.”

“I mean it, Jackie.” David breathes in and out. “I like you.”

Jack blinks. “Really?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, you’s Davey Jacobs. You’re smart and passionate, and you got beautiful eyes, and you’re straight…”

David raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not straight?”

“Evidently not.” David shrugs.

“You’re speakin’ the truth right now?”

“Always.” David sighs. “Why are you so hesitant to believe me?”

Jack hesitates for a moment. “Because, Dave… I’s been in love with you for years. And I told myself I’d never say a word, case I get my heart broken.”

David reaches across for Jack’s hand. “You won’t get your heart broken, Jackie.”

Jack is staring at their hands joined on the table. “We really gonna do this?”

“I’d like to,” David says. “And I think you would too. What do we have to lose?”

“We’s got a lot to lose,” Jack chuckles, but he doesn’t let go of David’s hand. “Can I kiss you, Davey? Now that you’s awake.”

In response, David leans forward, waiting for Jack to meet him halfway. Jack licks his lips and brings a hand to cup David’s cheek, and plants the softest of kisses on his other cheek. The butterflies in David’s stomach wake up and go crazy, and David has to grab onto Jack’s shirt and pull him closer. Their mouths are millimetres apart. David can feel Jack’s shallow breaths.

“You sure?” Jack whispers.

David replies by closing the distance. He’s never kissed anyone before, but he’s seen it in the countless films he and Jack have watched. Thankfully, Jack does have an idea of what he’s doing, and takes the lead, wrapping one hand around David’s waist and moving the other from his cheek to his hair, which elicits a dirty moan from David. Surprised, Jack opens his eyes and has to break the kiss to giggle.

“What?” David says, his face hot. Jack’s hand is still tangled in his curls.

Jack’s grin is strangely infectious. “You liked that, huh?” he says.

David scowls. “You dick,” he exclaims, pulling him back in and taking the lead this time. He tries licking into Jack’s mouth, and Jack lets out a high-pitched whine before he realises what he’s done. It’s David’s turn to break the kiss now as he laughs at how red Jack has turned. “See how it feels?” he says.

“I… didn’t know… that would happen,” Jack says, looking at the ground and scratching the back of his head. “Dave… that was hot.”

“Stop it,” David sputters.

“I mean it,” Jack says, leaning in again.

A little later, they’re lying on the couch, David half on top of Jack. Jack’s playing with his hair. The tiger documentary is playing in the background, but neither of them are paying much attention to it.

“Davey?”

“Yeah, Jackie?”

“This is gonna be awkward sometimes, ain’t it?”

“Definitely.”

Jack turns his head towards him. “You still sure you wanna do this?”

David smiles. He hopes it’s reassuring. “Absolutely. Are you?”

Jack beams at him. “I been dreamin’ about this for years, you really think I’s going to let some awkwardness get in the way?”

David rests his head on Jack’s chest. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Jackie.”

“Me too, Dave.” Jack leans down and presses a soft kiss on his forehead.

Once again, David falls asleep with Jack’s hand in his hair.

Notes:

i have not seen the tiger documentary on netflix don't @ me

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