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“V… mi cielo, mi luna… I gotta ask you something real important.”
Jackie leaned in, close enough for V to smell tequila as he exhaled. His gaze, dark and intense, met V’s, pinning him in place, making his muscles tense in anticipation.
“V…” Jackie said, “...would you still love me if I was a worm?”
V blinked. He couldn't help a laugh, incredulous, barely audible over the pounding electronic beats of Lizzie’s Bar. Despite the blur of liquor in his senses, he still squirmed under Jackie's unflinching gaze.
“What? C'mon Jack, when would that ever happen?”
Jackie withdrew a few inches, lifting his glass for another sip of tequila. “It doesn't matter if it'll happen or not, V. What matters is how you answer.”
“But what kinda question is that?” V asked, gesturing in the air between them. “Who the hell would ask their input if he’d love a worm?”
Jackie's gaze returned to V’s. He shook his head, a low, gravelly laugh rumbling in his broad chest.
“You don't get it, do you, cariño? Worm or not, I'd still be me, right?” He said, motioning to himself. “Here, V, lemme demonstrate. Ask me the question.”
V pursed his lips. The shots they'd taken with some of Jackie’s Valentino chooms showed in the slight sway of Jackie's shoulders as he leaned one elbow on the counter, still watching V intently. Fuck, did he ever take his eyes off V? Even blasted off his ass, that gaze never failed to lay V bare.
After a moment of silence, V capitulated. How could he not when Jackie gave him that pleading gaze? He lifted his own whiskey, drawing a sip that coursed down his throat like wildfire.
“Alright, Jack, I'll bite,” V said, shrugging. “Would ya still love me if I was a worm?”
Jackie took one of V’s hands, enveloping it in both of his. Warmth flooded V’s skin, into his bones, seeping in as deep as the intent in Jackie's gaze.
“V, I wouldn't fuckin' care if you were a worm. Think somethin’ like that could ever stop me from loving you? You could be a worm, or a roach, for all I care.”
V blamed the flush in his cheeks on the alcohol. As much of a lie as it was, it kept him in his seat, kept his gaze on Jackie. Jackie could never lie about anything like this. Especially not when he was drunk, and fuck, V wasn't sure how someone could sound so gonk and so romantic at the same time.
“Well, fuck,” V said, a nervous laugh on his lips. “How am I gonna outdo that?”
“You don't have to, cariño. Just answer my question.” Jackie lifted V’s hand, pressing a brief kiss to the back of his palm before he leaned forward again, voice low. “Would you still love me if I was a worm, V? A little gusanito?”
V swallowed. Regardless of the truth, or every gonk comment that threatened to rise from the corners of his mind, he nodded. How could he deny Jackie? By the way he looked at V, V may as well have been his entire sky, the moon and stars persistent enough to shine through NC’s light pollution. And Jackie shone as bright as the sun at times, brilliant, lovely, and warm.
Maybe the whiskey turned V into a romantic gonk, too.
“Yeah,” he said, “I think I would. I'd let you ride around in my pocket, maybe put on a little worm-sized jacket so I can, uh…tell you apart from all the other worms.”
The olive green of Jackie's eyes brightened, almost to an impossible degree. If that look hadn't made V’s heart lift the way it did, he might've felt the embarrassment carving a hole into his chest. Jackie took V’s hand back into his own and set it on the neon countertop, brushing a thumb over V’s knuckles.
“Really?”
“You think I'd be kidding?” V laughed.
“V,” Jackie said, trailing off again as he leaned in closer, almost enough for their foreheads to touch. “Te amo.”
V needed more alcohol. What else could hope to numb his racing thoughts? It was far from the first time he'd heard words like that, but hearing them from Jackie's lips, in a deep, genuine slur, came as a world apart. This wasn't a joytoy client in the throes of passion. This was someone V loved.
And more than anything else, that terrified him.
V lifted one hand to set on Jackie's cheek, lips shifting into a small smile.
“Tell me that when you're not six shots in, Jack.”
“Oh, V, I will.”
With a laugh, V leaned in, pressing a short kiss to Jackie’s lips.
“I’ll hold you up to that.”