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The winds were bad that day, bad enough that Jack almost insisted on not going. Won’t be easy to learn with it like this, he’d told you.
You’d just smiled, because you knew that damn smile would always win him over. The world could be falling apart, and Jack Krauser would still pause just to have one quick look at that smile. Good thing I’ve got you to teach me, then, you told him, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he caved. Always did when it came to you.
The last few months with you had been . . . well, they’d hadn’t been perfect, but they’d been damn good. Jack had long ago resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn’t have anyone. His life was dedicated to his service, nothing more. It was simple. Easy.
And then you’d waltzed in and knocked that simplicity right on its ass.
For months he’d been amazed by how you managed to keep surprising him, from the way you’d never backed down from insisting you wanted to be with him, to the ease with which you spoke to him. The fire of your spirit, and the tender way you’d wind your arms around him when he woke in the night, helping him forget the faces waiting for him in the dark. None of it was what he’d expected. He hadn’t thought a civilian would understand . . . but you had been patient with him. Gentle when he needed it, firm when it was necessary. Ready to listen when he spoke of what troubled him, or to simply be there for him, even if silence was all he could offer. He’d warned you at the beginning that he wasn’t used to this - to having someone. You’d just smiled and told him to take his time.
Nearly everything you did surprised him . . . just like when your eyes lit up at the mention of his skill with a bow.
After all you’d done for him, archery lessons were the least he could give you in return.
That was how the two of you ended up in a field, the wind whipping at you both, making autumn leaves dance through crisp air. And honestly, he should have known, even then, that something was up.
The fact that you’d gotten your own bow should have been a dead giveaway.
You’d presented it to him the night before, a simple recurve, old but well made. Perfectly suited to you, just your size and with a draw strength that you could manage. Simple and effective. Not at all like the heavy-duty compound that Jack was used to using. When he’d asked you where you’d gotten it, you’d just smiled that same, knowing smile. Told you, I want you to give me some pointers. That was all you’d said, and hell would freeze over before he refused you.
So, he set up a target about twenty feet away from where you now stood, but he’d paused when he looked back and saw you standing there, your bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows strapped to a belt on your waist. You held the weapon like you’d been born with a bow in your hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He should have known . . . but he was a bit too busy staring at you to make the connection, because damn did you look good.
It made him all too pleased to step into your space, warding off the cold wind and guiding you into the proper stance - side-face, your bow in front of you and an arrow nocked on the string. His hands were on you because that’s where they belonged, showing you from his own mastery of the craft how to shoot. It was every cliché moment in those movies as he instructed you on how to shoot, all while keeping his arms around you, and he was happy to indulge in that cliché. What had you done to Major Jack Krauser that made him want to indulge in such a thing? He didn’t know, but he didn’t care much then, either. Especially with the way your focus was more on him than any of the pointers he was giving you.
“You’ll never shoot straight if you don’t pay attention,” Krauser leaned in to murmur the words in your ear, grinning all the while.
You just grinned at him again, turning your head towards him a bit, still holding the bow out in front of you. “I’m paying attention, I promise.” He didn’t believe you one bit - and didn’t mind it, either.
“Hm, guess we’ll see. Elbow up-” he reached his hand around your back, lifting the arm that would draw the bowstring back. “Now . . .” he went on, still keeping his lips by your ear, moving his other hand. His fingers brushed along your lips, relishing in the way they nearly parted for him, the way they curled into a smile. He traced the line until his fingertips rested at the corner of your mouth, the one closest to the bow’s string. “For a recurve, you pull it back to here,” he told you, and you nodded, keeping the bow straight up and down as you pulled the string back.
God, you had no right to look like that with a weapon in your hand, the wind playing with your jacket and making you look like a damn action movie hero. Jack had to take a moment to admire it, to hum in your ear again as he nodded.
“Good.” He stepped back from you, albeit reluctantly, because you were here to learn, after all. At least, that was what you said you wanted to do. “Just take a few shots,” he told you. “Aim at the center of the target and adjust- where do you think you’re going?” His voice was equal parts amusement and confusion as you turned on your heel and just . . . walked away.
You didn’t even answer him as you put another ten feet between you and the target. Then another. And another. More and more distance until, if Krauser was guessing right, you were at least a hundred feet from the target.
And once you stopped there, you turned but didn’t draw. Not yet.
He shouldn’t have been surprised when you turned your head to look at him and that smile was back. “Come on,” you tilted your head, beckoning him towards you. “Can’t draw with someone down-range.”
Krauser’s pale brow pinched together, his face drawn in an incredulous expression. With the wind this bad, shooting from that range . . . but still, he did as you asked and moved to your side once more. “Ambitious of you, but-” You didn’t give him the chance to say anything more before you lifted the bow, drawing it back with a confidence Jack was floored by. Your eyes narrowed, your breathing steady as you took aim, a gust of wind sweeping through. Even that wasn’t enough to stop you as you adjusted your aim at the last second.
Then you let the arrow fly . . .
And your bravado was broken when it sunk into the side of the target on the outermost ring. “Shit,” you hissed, “ignore that one!”
And Krauser couldn’t hold in the little laugh that escaped him, because even that would have been impressive to him. But you never could resist the temptation to surprise him, could you? That was all he thought as you expertly nocked another arrow and loosed it.
This time, Krauser’s eyes went wide as the steel tip embedded itself in the target’s center. It was joined only moments later by another . . . and another. Pride curved your mouth back into a smile, and Jack was transfixed.
And he realized then that he should have put two and two together sooner; the excitement in your eyes when he mentioned archery, the bow you’d obtained that suited you perfectly, the way you held it like it was a part of you. Good thing I've got you to teach me, you'd said. As if you needed him to teach you a damn thing. He realized it as you turned to him, your quiver of twelve empty. Not even the wind had kept your arrows from hitting their mark, and all Krauser could do was stare at you like you were a sunrise.
“So?” you grinned, sauntering over to him, winding your arms around him. Trapping him against you with the bow. “Still think I wasn’t paying attention?”
His hands found their way to your hips and Krauser just shook his head, scoffing. “I think you dragged me out here to show off, that’s what I think.” His attempt at sounding annoyed fell short, and you knew it.
“Not true,” you insisted, leaning your face towards his, and god did he love the way your lips brushed his. “It was also an excuse to do something you like. I mean . . . and to get your arms around me.”
What the hell had he done to deserve someone like you? That was the thought that hit him like a flashbang, leaving you as the only clear thing he saw. And if you were the only thing left in the world to him, there was only one thing to do. He pulled you the rest of the way, his mouth meeting yours fully. He relished the sound of your laugh, muffled by the kiss. In the way your lips moved against him, familiar and welcome in a way he’d never thought to experience. He’d had partners in the past, but nothing like this; no one like you.
Because there was no one like you in all the world.
“I fuckin’ love you.”
The words were rough and spoken without warning - but that was often Krauser’s way. It wasn’t the way he’d planned to tell you. Not that he’d really planned on speaking the words just yet, but you’d hit the mark in every way. So he voiced his declaration against your lips and couldn’t help but smirk as you pulled away to look at him with wide eyes.
He’d managed to surprise you for a change.
“That a problem?” he asked, still grinning as he tightened his arms around you.
You searched his eyes, like you were looking for a sign that he was bluffing. You’d find nothing but certainty, though. “God, no! I just . . . didn’t expect you to say it so soon, that’s all. Didn’t expect you to say it . . . at all, honestly,” you admitted after a moment. He hadn’t expected it, either. But he’d known for a long time, now. He’d known in those moments when he’d wake in the morning and find you beside him in bed, catching up on the sleep you missed out on trying to bring him a few moments of peace. He knew it in the moments when your stupid jokes managed to make him laugh, despite himself. He knew it in the quiet of your company and the steadiness of your affection. Even if you hadn’t thought to expect that of him, he’d felt it for a long time.
So, as he took in your surprise, Jack just shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to be an archer. Guess we were both holding out on each other.”
A little laugh from you, and then you were leaning back in, not willing to be on uneven footing. “Well, in that case . . . I love you too.”
That wasn’t new knowledge to him, either. Even if this was the first time you’d spoken the words. “I know,” he told you, because he just did. You told him every day in actions, if not in words.
More kisses, more moments where Jack couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten here. More moments where he decided it didn’t matter. He’d dedicated his life to his service - he could be selfish and love you now.
“So,” you said when you finally parted, your eyes sparkling, the wind filling the empty space between the two of you, “wanna show me how military marksmanship measures up against a two-time archery champion?”
“Two-time, huh?” Krauser grinned, giving you a sharp smile as you offered up your challenge. “That’s cute.”
You didn’t back down, not even bristling at his words. You just tilted your head with a smirk and a raised brow. “You wanna talk trash? Or show me what you’ve got?”
His grin only widened. “Alright,” he said, releasing you. “Bring it, sweetheart.”