Work Text:
Jackie’s foot keeps “accidentally” bumping against Damien’s under the table, and Damien finally calls her out on it, asking in a shocked and appalled tone if she’s flirting with him.
“That’s the idea.” She peers above the oversized menu in front of her face, only eyes and hair from Damien’s angle. “Flirting over texts for the past five years has been fun and all, but what I really want is the IRL goopy relationship stereotypes.”
“This incudes footsie, then?” Damien hooks a finger over the top of the menu and brings it down to bring Jackie’s smiling face into full view. “Now that we’re going steady, do you think we can do some necking later? Maybe even some back-seat bingo?” Naturally, Damien says this with an over-the-top 1950s announcer voice, wiggling his eyebrows conspiratorially.
Laughing, Jackie tells Damien to shut up, but she’s blushing while she says it. She does relent and set her menu down, which allows Damien to look at her without interference. She’s bathed in golden candlelight, fidgety with excitement and nervousness. Damien can’t help but mirror her emotions, taking in her energy and giving it back to her in spades. It’s been awhile since he’s smiled this much. Because he can, because he allowed, he reaches across the table to take one of Jackie’s hands in both of his. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?”
“At least five thousand times, I think.” She squeezes Damien’s hand. “Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look?”
“Only four thousand times. You should catch up.” Damien can feel his own flush creep up from his neck to his cheeks. He doesn’t have to tamp this down, he doesn’t have to hide this. He can revel in any and every compliment that Jackie tosses at him, catch them in his heart and hold them in his chest.
Jackie takes her unoccupied hand and reaches across the table, twirling a wayward lock of Damien’s hair (red currently). “I know I’ve already said this, but I do like the red a lot.”
“There you go flirting again.” He watches as Jackie’s hand moves; she pulls at the lock playfully, lets it go, then trails her fingers down Damien’s cheeks. He shivers a little. Before, in another time, he would have shied away from this much attention. How much has he changed—to crave this touch? To ache for this affection for years?
He flew across a continent for a chance at this affection.
“Have I mentioned I love you?”
Damien’s heart seizes in his chest. He knows that Jackie has to search for courage every time she says it, and he’s proud of her every time she manages it. ”You have. A perfect amount, too.”
She wants to argue, he can tell by the way she shakes her head. “No matter how often I say it, it will never be enough.”
“You’re enough. More than.” He leans into her touch—he can, he’s allowed. It’s all perfect here in the golden glow.