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“This is a… rather unconventional place of meeting, Jack,” The voice of the manor’s resident Feaster From Afar spoke softly in the starlit night, the sound of his four tentacles so silent upon the grass that it had nearly startled Jack out of his own skin. His voice did not have that deep, rumbly grumble that it did with any other person trapped here. It was almost gentle.
Perhaps Jack was simply too deep within his own mind to notice Hastur’s approaching. Over the course of their time together, he’d grown rather attached to the god before him. It was a slow process; mostly due to their skepticism of those around them. Jack was one to distance himself, fretting that his other side could take over at any moment’s notice. Hastur was… well — complicated in his efforts to intermingle with those attempting to befriend him. Needless to say, it had taken a heap of bravery to ask Hastur to meet here.
Jack had mulled over his recent feelings over the course of a few days; and then those days had turned into weeks. Ripper, whenever given the chance, would pester Jack into confessing these emotions time and time again. ‘It was high time that you finally did this,’ Ripper would probably say.
It was at this time that Hastur took a stand beside the limber male upon dewy grass, and though he had not nearly as many facial features to show the wide variety of expressions that humans did, he appeared concerned. His eyes squinted in the way that many might frown, a clawed, bandaged hand reaching out for Jack’s own softer one. “You are unwell, are you not? Tell me of your worries.”
Jack finally turned to face the Feaster, breath catching in his throat; yet the hand clasped around his own was all too comforting. Ironic, that this monster-like creature was somewhat of a safe space for him. Jack has gone to him in some times of woe, confided in him during stressful encounters, and celebrated with him during those few times where the residents of the manor were *allowed* to be happy.
Jack finally spoke in that same, almost sorrowful voice that Hastur had grown to enjoy hearing, “Hast, I… I just wanted to talk with you for a while. Is that alright?”
The god only nodded and gestured towards the ground beneath them, first taking his own seat and then inviting Jack within one outstretched arm.
A sigh of relief was his response, the man taking comfort in Hastur’s grasp around him. It was warm, inviting. Unlike what he had first believed it to be like.
They sat in silence together for a moment, yet neither one of them felt unsettled by it. Hastur dared to slide one tentacle over Jack’s waist and pulled him close, while Jack kept a firm hold upon the other’s hand. They shared a connection, truly. Others may think it strange, and the two of them may call it inexplicable, but they were completely and utterly comfortable in each other’s presence.
The stars above them were lovely. They were not clouded by the fog of London, nor were they distant, uninteresting specks in the distance for one to ignore. They were breathtaking. These sights, in the past, would have been something that The Feaster merely thought senseless to indulge in. But here, with *him*… It’s different. The manor hasn’t given them much to enjoy, but this view was one they could both never take for granted. Hastur couldn’t help but notice how beautifully they reflected upon Jack’s pale complexion as the Brit gazed upwards, the eyes within his hood so fixated upon the one in front of him. He was transfixed. How silly, to have feelings for someone so different from himself.
“Hastur, I…— There’s so much that I can’t see. In- In terms of the future, the present, even the past. Not like you. You see so much more than I can. You’ve seen cities rise and fall, worlds be birthed and destroyed, i-it’s— I only… I’m wondering, Hastur…
Are you ever going to see you and I? Is that possible?” The desperation in his voice is pitiful, saddening. It’s as if he might break at any moment, but he doesn’t cry. He does not weep, and he does not falter. That’s how Jack has always been, and that’s what draws Hastur in.
“Hush, now. You needn’t speak.”
It was as if he already knew what Jack needed. That had been the case a thousand times before, and such a thing — Jack assumed — would always happen in the future as well.
A deep, almost choppy purr rumbled up from the god’s chest, thick tentacles pulling Jack into his lap. Hastur leaned down and nuzzled softly into Jack’s shoulder in an affectionate manner, earning a small sound of surprise from the smaller of the two. After such an outburst of joy from the Feaster had eased, he spoke.
“I am already aware, I always have been. I have grown to have a fondness for you too, Jack. I felt it from the first embrace I shared with you. I will admit that it is strange, harboring such feelings for — Well. *Anyone*…”
It was his turn to be hushed, a rather embarrassed Jack letting out a huff and leaning back into his god’s hold upon him. “I know, I know, spare me the rant and ramble if you’ll deny me mine…” There was a sense of teasing in his voice, his face bearing a rare, genuine smile. “I love you, Hastur. That’s all I truly wanted to say.”
“I love you too, Jack. Always. I’ll be here, and you’ll be alright.” Those same eyes seemed to smile right back at him, Hastur’s arms right around Jack as they finally laid back and took in the starry scene before them fully. Wherever this horrible place led them, whatever the future held for the two, they’d be sure to stay hand in hand throughout it all.