Chapter Text
They were not always good at expressing themselves. Jonathan could never find the right words, his tongue unable to form the necessary shapes to articulate care or comfort or concern. And Edward, with his nonstop chatter and his riddles, couldn’t seem to bring himself to say what he really meant, couldn’t pose a genuine opinion or observation if it wasn’t buried beneath layer after layer of wordplay.
Both men were emotionally stunted in their own ways, bruised and broken and hardened from the harshness of life. But there was something quite like love between them. It was present in the way Jonathan lit Edward’s cigarettes, the way Edward always had a cup of coffee ready for Jonathan in the mornings. It was awkward touches and sarcastic humor and the kisses they pressed to each other’s scars, celebrating all the times the other had suffered, endured, survived.
Neither of them could conceive of verbalizing such a thing. But even without words there was always something that held the two of them together like magnets, clinging to each other as if they knew no other way to be.