Chapter Text
Any minute now.
He's been here for the best part of ten minutes. He's wearing a shirt; it's open and layered over a graphic tshirt, and paired with a rather scruffy pair of jeans (nobody wears a suit in this part of the city unless they want to be robbed and slash or stabbed) but it's a shirt nonetheless. He spent a record 25 minutes in the bathroom preparing himself for the exact moment which would hopefully be happing at some fucking point because it's really rather cold out here.
This is not the first time he's been on a date. He doesn't exactly have a reputation as a player, but he is by no means the Virgin Mary of the block. Hell, this isn't even the first date they've had as a couple. The nerves were there the first time they met and they don't go away.
Jermaine decides he's a mess.
The portal should be here, he thinks. Any time soon. But god, what if he got to the wrong part of the city? Or...the country? He knows the other doesn't know his way around the area, despite having been here about eight times, he could be about ten blocks away and god. He'd never know--
He's here.
He's grown to love the sound, by now. It's sort of a fizzing noise, he supposes, like metal being.....dinged??? He doesn't fucking know. But the lilac portal opens and a small figure is deposited face down on the concrete.
The first thing he notices is that Omi hasn't dressed up at all. He recognises the pants as the ones he gave him himself (shit, those things still fit? The man is tiny ) but he doesn't recognise the trainers, or the short sleeved hoodie that adorns his top half.
(Actually, he does recognise it. Wasn't it Raimundo's? He obviously grew out of it.)
Omi wastes no time in stuffing the Golden Tiger Claws into a beaten up backpack (it must be Kimiko's, it has a muddy picture of Konichiwa Bunny on it) before letting out a squeal that may have been "Jermaine!" and throwing himself into the other's arms. Jermaine's knocked back slightly by the sudden Omi catapulted towards his person and barely manages to get his arms around him, holding him up. "Hey, man. Guessin someone got eager."
The response he gets to that are a pair of legs wrapped around his waist; he supposes this means Omi does not want to be put down just yet and so he doesn't put him down, choosing instead to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. (Nothing too extravagant. He wants to ease into that. The guy's probably not even seen a naked boob.) "Missed you, boo."
Omi leans forward a little, their foreheads touch, and he's smiling in a way that Jermaine almost never sees him smile and sort of wished he did all the time. "It is alright, Jermaine. I would miss me too."
This gets a laugh; he takes the opportunity to adjust the other in his arms, getting him into a comfortable position to hold. "I see you stayed modest, man."
Omi leans back a little and takes Jermaine's shoulders in his hands. "As always."
He's not sure what happens next. At some point he starts to spin, taking a tight hold of Omi in order not to drop him, and for a while all they do is spin and laugh until Jermaine hears a window rolling down and a slur screamed in their direction.
He doesn't have time to think of a better comeback than "Yeah, yeah." and flipping the guy off, pointing his hand in the direction of the car screeching down the road, and when he turns his attention back to Omi his hand is in the same position and he's peering at it with confusion on his face.
"Oh, uh. Omi, Omi. Doll. Maybe it would be better if you...didn't do that. In the middle of the street." Jermaine puts him down and takes the offending hand gently.
"Why? What does it mean?"
"It's, uh. American Sign Language. For "fuck off and mind your own business." The hand is squeezed. "Come on, man. Got somewhere I wanna take you."
He doesn't know how, but he ends up running, Omi's hand clenched tightly in his own, and the former starts to laugh again, running with him. "Where is it? Where are we going?"
"Just wait and find out."
The wall he's sat against is cold, and it looks like it stretches up forever, though that's probably because he's sat down and he's not particularly tall to begin with. He was short when he was nine and he hasn't grown much since. He looks up for a moment then back down to his hands, and Omi comes to the conclusion that he's going to be in quite the fair amount of trouble.
He's fairly sure that they'd kill him if they found out, if they found him gone before he got home. He decides he doesn't care. He wanted to come here and enjoy himself, he's not putting anyone in danger (the threat of evil is no more for the moment) and he can look after the Wu perfectly well despite what others may say.
The him of six years ago wouldn't have dreamt of doing such a thing. He can imagine him yelling at himself. He decides he doesn't care about this either.
He's sitting on a hill; it's a pretty big hill, hence the neighbourhood built on it, but he can see down from here, to endless streams of apartment blocks and the resulting light show, and he squeezes Jermaine's hand and eats more fries. He silently reminds himself to congratulate Mr Mcdonald on his revolutionary invention of whatever this was supposed to be. it tastes like salt and heart disease and he is not complaining.
Sure the other people in the restaurant had looked at them funny when they'd got there (Jermaine was carrying him on his back for some reason that Omi cannot quite place) (maybe he just likes picking him up) (he's short enough) but they hadn't stayed for long and he supposes he was giggling rather a lot. They both were, and he'd buried his face in the crook of Jermaine's shoulder and that only made him laugh more because apparently he's ticklish. Who knew.
So they sit and enjoy the view. Omi leans his head against Jermaine's shoulder and they eat fries and at some point they kiss. It's awkward and ridiculous; he's fine up until Jermaine's tongue happens and then he freaks out and falls over.
Sometimes things remind Omi of his insufficient experience with people and this is one of them.
But it's alright. Jermaine doesn't mind. And as they sit together and stare into the distance like a badly written indie teen movie, he feels kisses on his neck and he fidgets and bites his lip because this is not something even remotely familiar to him. He doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what to say and he can't say anything in this state so they stay like that for a good half hour, and Omi's not sure what Jermaine's thinking about but he himself is quite lost in his own thoughts.
Jermaine pulls away.
Omi looks behind him, tries to vocalise the question and doesn't quite get there before Jermaine says "Busted."
He hadn't noticed the wind picked up before his attention was drawn to it. Oh god, no, no, he's in so much trouble. He stays sat and stares at the sky as the familiar form of Dojo descends to the ground in front of him, the other three months perched on top of him.
If Omi knew of the word "fuck", that would, right now, be his entire being.
Raimundo speaks first. It's awkward and silent for a while, before Rai slides off Dojo's back and takes Omi by the arm. "What the hell do you think you were doing? Do you know how worried we were when we turned up to your mattress and nobody was there?" It takes him a while to notice Jermaine, and he looks back and forth between the two of them for a moment, before releasing Omi's arm. "I...guess he came to see you, then."
Jermaine fidgets. "I suppose."
"Well, uh. Have a nice rest of the day, I guess."
Omi takes this opportunity to untangle himself from Raimundo and run to Jermaine, throwing his arms around him, and before the latter can react, shoving their lips together. It's awkward yet adorable, and Omi pulls away with a smile and a "Farewell."
"You done yet?" Raimundo again. "Good. Now get on the fucking dragon, Omi."
"I have a name." Dojo protests in the background. Omi gives Jermaine a small smile before climbing onto Dojo's back, and Jermaine watches as they fly off into the distance.
Damn. He's not sure if this date went well or not.
"Well, Omi, you gotta be proud of somethin." Clay elbows him, a small smile on his face. "You got a boyfriend before Kimiko."
"That was not necessary." says Kimiko. Her protests are lost.
"I don't know." Now that he's calmed down and they're past the lecture of don't ever scare me like that again don't you dare run off like that i was so worried do you understand Raimundo is taking the situation considerably lightheartedly. Right now he's got a smartass smile on his face "If I had to pick the gay member of the team, I don't think I'd have picked Omi."
"Aw, why not, Rai?"
"Yeah, partner, you got somethin to tell us?"
"No, no! Come on!"
"You got your eye on a fella, Rai?"
Kimiko snorts. "Maybe it's Spicer."
"And that's just obscene." Raimundo pulls a face.
Omi hasn't been focusing on this conversation. He's too consumed with guilt and panic and then he turns to the rest of the group. "How is....How is Master Fung?"
It's the first time for a while that Dojo speaks. He usually concentrates more on flying. "Well, before we left, he was kinda pulling his hair out."
"He's bald though." Raimundo points out.
"Pulling his beard out, then. Need I say more. You scared him half to death with your little stunt, kid."
"I'm sorry." He stares at the ground and he can feel actual tears building and this somewhat surprises him. He prays the others don't notice but then he feels a hand on his back.
"Don't worry about it, Omi." It's Clay. "Master Fung'll understand. He was young once, right?"
Dojo snorts. "I don't know about that. Maybe somewhere in the depths of the first century."
Somehow, this does not make Omi feel better.
"I'm not entirely sure you understand the consequences your actions could have had, Omi."
There are an awful lot of things Omi wants to say but he's not sure how. He feels his fists clench and anger fill him and he doesn't--
"You are angry."
Well no shit he's angry. Which is what he would think if he had any knowledge of profanity. Instead that's his general emotion.
"I understand why. And I also understand your motivations." This surprises him; Omi tilts his head as Master Fung continues. "I have been told you have...certain arrangements with Jermaine. And I am sure it is hard to maintain them when you live so far apart."
"Yes, Master. You could say that." His gaze is transferred to the floor.
Master Fung is silent for a moment, before he continues. "I do not wish to jeopardise your relationship, Omi. It is an entirely normal thing for those of your age, but disappearing in the dead of night with a highly sought after Shen Gong Wu is not the way I would suggest you go about it. Moreover, I would like to request that you no longer go alone."
And now he's angry. "Master Fung, I am perfectly capable! I am a Wudai Warrior! I can take whatever those outside the temple attempt to throw at me!--"
"You cannot dodge a bullet, Omi." And that shuts him up. He has a feeling that for once Master Fung is talking literally as opposed to metaphorics. "New York is not somewhere I would want you to be unaccompanied. You have grown and matured well, but you are still a child--"
"I am fifteen!"
"That is precisely my point. I understand that you may feel adequately experienced now, but you still have a lot of progress to make." A pause. "And the last thing I want is for anything to happen to you."
"Obviously. But it won't!"
"There is no way you can guarantee that, Omi. There is no way I can guarantee that. I do not know every time I send you out if something will go wrong. Every day--"
"Holds new possibilities, yes! But."
And he can't think of an answer to that. He just gets annoyingly teary again and then Master Fung pats his shoulder.
"I am sure Dojo would not mind accompanying you. Not to mention he is a more comfortable mode of transportation than the Golden Tiger Claws."
"I respect that, Master, but I do not wish Dojo to accompany me on my dates."
This gets a raised eyebrow. "And tell me, Omi. What is it you do on these. Dates."
Omi swallows.
"Well, um. Today, we, uh. We went for a walk, and then, um, We found a hill with a very nice view and we talked about. Things. And ate American food. And."
Master Fung is still staring at him. His eyebrow is almost in his hairline. Omi looks down and attempts to stop his face reddening.
".....Maybe we kissed a little."
"I see." And god, does he hate it when Master Fung sounds amused. "Perhaps that provides an adequate explanation for the mysterious bruise on the side of your neck, young one?"
Omi's eyes widen a little, and he reaches for the toggles on his (Raimundo's old?) hoodie, pulling the strings so that the shoulders and hood compress and cover his neck.
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
Jermaine is woken at eight o clock that night by someone knocking his door.
His name has been thwarted, and he sighs to himself as he pulls his door open and leans against it, raising an eyebrow before realising who it is and straightening himself up.
"Uh. Raimundo. Hey, man. What brings you?"
"I just wanted to talk." He doesn't sound mad, so Jermaine nods, stepping back to let the other in. "This is about Omi, right."
"How'd you guess." The reply was tinged with sarcasm. Jermaine raises his hands.
"Look, I don't know what you came to discuss, okay, but A, I'd rather die than lay a finger on him, and B, the furthest we ever got was kissing. Any more questions?"
"That's definitely reassuring." Raimundo's hands are in his pockets. "I didn't just come to ask all that, though. How long have you been, you know. Seeing each other?"
"Uh." Oh man, that's a hard one. "About...four months? We've been dating for about three."
"Wow. And he managed to keep it hidden from us all that time?"
Jermaine shrugs. "What can I say. He's resourceful."
Raimundo laughs. "Yeah, maybe that's not quite the word."
A pause.
"....I just want you to know, if you fuck this up, if you hurt him, I will jam that basketball so far into your rectal passage, they'll be extracting rubber for weeks."
Jermaine is glad he didn't bring his can of Coke with him or else he would have dropped it.
"Jesus, man."
Raimundo snorts. "It's more of a stock speech. Don't worry, I trust you. I just...feel like I need to say it."
There's something intimidating in his voice. Jermaine nods. "Uh, yeah man. Sure."
"Yeah, well, I'm glad we could talk." Raimundo gives Jermaine a smile. "I'll see you around." And with that, he's gone. Jermaine stares after him.
.....He's not entirely sure he can still say that date went well.