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Jack sat down on a park bench. He set down his backpack on the empty space next to him, enjoying the sounds of distant chatter and birds chirping. He plugged his ears with earbuds and played a generic Spotify playlist.
He grabbed his sketchbook, pencil, and eraser out of one of the backpack’s pockets. He flipped to the next empty page and looked up at the scene in front of him. He sighed. The green trees stood tall underneath the bright sun rays, leaves rustling in the wind. Neatly cut grass crowded the floor below with a clear dirt path in the middle of the park. Birds chirped in the background and flew into sight from time to time, making a small smile appear on Jack’s face. He scribbled a few short lines above the sketched trees, figuring that they’d suffice as birds. (He really needed to do more animal studies.)
Soon enough, he messily sketched the view down on his sketchbook, hatching for shading and all. It wasn't his best work, but it was pretty good, considering it took him only 30 minutes. If only he had carried his watercolor set for some splashes of color. Jack sighed. It wasn’t as if this was some life-or-death situation.
He tucked his pencil behind his ear (it does actually help him keep it safe!) before shutting his sketchbook and setting it on top of his backpack. Jack rested his chin on his palm, humming along to the music that was — he had to admit — at least sort-of catchy.
He looked at the people passing by with curious eyes; you never know when inspiration may strike. A joyful woman, with graying dirty blonde hair and a beige cardigan wrapped around her baggy white shirt, laughed along with seemingly her daughter, who sported a black cropped hoodie and high-waisted jeans. A toddler with freckles all over his smiling hazel-eyed face, messy dark brown hair bouncing as he moved, ran as his clearly tired mother chased after him. He was a splitting image of her.
The toddler ran in circles, tiring his mother even further, until he spotted Jack. Something in him seemed to flip, the boy’s eyes shining, and he up to him. Jack’s eyes widened as he saw the boy running to her, but he could only sit in place. He paused the music. The toddler latched onto Jack’s leg, shooting him a big, dopey grin. He was cute, Jack had to admit. Jack ruffled his curly hair, returning the smile.
“Hi!” the boy chirped.
“Heya,” Jack softly said.
"Hi! I'm so sorry about him." The mother apologized. Her breathing was labored, and she had to bend down, resting her hands on her knees, to catch her breath momentarily.
"Oh, no, it's fine,” Jack reassured her, dismissively waving at her apology. He looked down at the boy at her leg. "Go back to you mom."
He gently pushed him towards his mother. The toddler pouted, visibly upset he couldn’t make any new friends today, but he went into his mother's arms. She picked him up, bouncing him on her hip.
"Don't do that, okay?" she murmured in his ear. He nodded into the crook of her neck. She mouthed 'thank you' to Jack, who grinned and mouthed 'no problem' back. The woman subtly waved with her free hand before she walked away, telling the boy how dangerous running to strangers was and how he could've gotten kidnapped if it were the wrong person.
Jack unpaused the music, resuming where he left off, wincing and skipping to the next song. He grabbed the notebook again and flipped to the first empty page, drawing whatever first came to mind out of complete and utter boredom.
After another peaceful 20 minutes, a bust of an all too familiar young man looked back at him. The drawn man’s eyes crinkled in delight as his mouth was curled up in a cheeky smile.
Jack sighed, soft and fond; he missed him, that was for sure.
Jack started to loosely shade in the neck when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He craned his neck, slightly startled, and was pleasantly surprised at the angular features and striking eyes of the man in front of him.
"Can I sit here?" He pointed at where his backpack sat. He was shy, hesitant. Jack couldn’t help but softly smile.
"Go ahead,” Jack nodded, taking his backpack off of the seat and setting it down at his feet. The man sat down next to him, flashing him a small grin.
He looked down at her sketchbook on her lap as she tried to cover the picture with her hands.
"Wow, that's really good. You're very talented,” he said, genuine. He smiled a smile that reached up to his eyes. "Who is it?"
"My boyfriend, actually,” Jack responded. There was no flash of ‘oh shit, this man is gay’ in the stranger’s eyes; just a pleasant blue shining in genuine interest.
The stranger nodded once more. It slightly nerved Jack — silence was deafening. It welcomed many unwanted thoughts to swirl in his head.
"So, what does he do?" The man asked, resting his hand on the back of the bench. Better than nothing. Jack rolled his shoulder.
"He's a pilot for Delta Airlines," Jack grinned, proud. "I get to see him for the first time tomorrow in like...months."
"Ah, I'm a pilot for Delta, too!”
“Really?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “So, you may know him?”
“Yes to the first question,” the man nodded, “but, to the second question, I don’t recognize him in the drawing. I honestly don’t remember almost any of the crew I flew with.”
“Oh wow,” Jack hummed.
“Yup,” the man popped the ‘p’. “But, just to try, what’s his name?”
Jack softly chuckled. "David Jacobs."
“‘Jacobs’ does ring a bell, but I’m not sure if it’s a David,” he said, crossing his legs. Jack hummed in response and averted his eyes to the clear blue sky above him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”
Jack mocked a grimace. "I dunno. That seems too private of information to me.”
The man snorted.
“But I’ll make an exception for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Jack Kelly. Now, show-and-tell. What’s your name?”
“You’re certainly something,” the stranger mused. Jack shrugged. "Hans Moonsend."
Jack momentarily paused, stunned, before doubling over. The man rolled his eyes, though fond.
“I’m sorry? Hans Moonsend? Babe, that’s the best you could do?” Jack had to wipe the literal tears threatening to spill.
"Sorry I'm not good with this roleplay shit," Davey — or Hans — scoffed. "You've always been better at this than me."
Davey crossed his arms and pouted.
"Well my mom owns a whole ass theatre. I think that has something to do with it,” Jack rolled his eyes. “But I still can't get over Hans Moonsend. What kind of name is Hans? Moonsend?"
"Hey! There's a chance someone actually has that name, and he would be absolutely offended if he heard you say that,” Davey exclaimed.
“Do you know a Hans Moonsend?” Jack inquired.
“And what if I did?” Davey fired back. The shorter only shrugged in response before emitting a small laugh. “And, hey,” Davey amended, “at least it isn’t ‘Bob’.”
"Hey, Bob Duncan is hot,” Jack mocked offense.
"I-" he couldn't even finish his sentence because he burst into laughter, Jack following soon after. "I mean...I guess...?"
"Anyways, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. You suck,” Jack stuck his tongue out. Davey shook his head in amusement.
“Schedules got changed last minute,” the brunette nonchalantly shrugged. “And I’m here now, ri—”
Davey was interrupted by a pair of lips smashing into his. It was short and sweet, but the small moment left him breathless as Jack pulled away.
"What was that for?" Davey asked, cocking up an eyebrow. But the undeniable grin on his face told Jack that he quite liked the sudden action.
"I haven't kissed my boyfriend for who knows how long, and I want to make out again," Jack half-joked, shrugging.
“I’d like that to be a private thing,” Davey rolled his eyes. Jack chuckled and leaned his head against Davey’s shoulder. Worries he didn’t know he had lifted from his shoulders. Jack sighed, but then furrowed his eyebrows as a thought crossed his mind.
"How did you find me?" Jack asked, genuinely confused.
"Find My Friends, babe."
"Oh, yeah. I should stop sharing my location with you, you stalker,” Jack joked, lightly nudging Davey’s side. Davey scoffed. "I didn't know I got downgraded to a friend. You're the worst, Hans Moonsend."
Davey groaned, "Never bring that up again."
"I'll bring it up as many times as I want," Jack booped his nose, and Davey leaned his head back to playfully bite it. Jack pouted, rubbing his finger.
— — —
The woman looked at them from afar, her son sleeping in her lap. She looked down at her boy, then up at the young man. The man looked basically like how she imagined how his son would look like when he grew up. She softly smiled at him and his boyfriend, the man who her son ran up to. They looked like a cute couple; they were definitely soulmates. She wished her son would have what they had in the near future. Something she never got to experience.
She sighed at the thought.
In her lap, her son stirred, mumbling how he wanted to go home. She nodded.
"Come on. Let's go, Hans."