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Jack and Davey are in their kitchen. Davey is preparing dinner and Jack is sitting on the counter while pretending to help. (Jack doesn’t know shit about cooking, but he likes spending as much time with Davey as possible.)
Davey’s phone is resting on the counter next to Jack.
“Can I use your phone to play music?” Jack asks, already picking it up. “Mine’s all the way in my bag and that’s just too much work.”
Davey laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah. My password is five-two-two-five.”
“Five-two-two-five,” Jack repeats as he types the numbers in. He stares at the screen for a second. He swears he recognizes the pattern. Maybe the letters spell something? He turns off the phone. He turns it on again, but pauses at the screen that displays the numbers.
He puts in the password. Five – JKL. Two – ABC. Two – ABC. Five – JKL. He scrunches his face together as he tries to figure it out. He runs through the possible combinations.
He picks J as the first letter because it’s the best one (his name starts with it, so naturally, that makes it the best). He figures the second letter is A because vowels typically come second in words. For the third letter, he decides it’s probably not another A. Maybe a B? J-A-B-L? J-A-B-K?
Realization dawns on him. The third letter isn’t a B. It’s a C. J-A-C-K. Jack.
He smirks and turns his attention towards Davey. “David Jacobs, is my name your phone password?”
Davey’s cheeks turn pink and he smiles shyly. “Maybe?”
“Oh man, you are so in love with me,” Jack teases.
“You act as if you aren’t too!” Davey replies, a smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah, but, I’m your phone password. That’s, like, almost the same thing as being married.”
Davey laughs and stops what he was doing. He goes over to Jack, moving so he’s standing right between his legs.
“I think it’s really cute,” Jack confesses. These little things are his favorite parts of Davey. The small ways the two of them are connected are what keep him going.
Davey doesn't answer. Instead, he leans in and kisses Jack. Davey intends for it to be short, but Jack brings a hand up to Davey’s hair and they get a little occupied. Davey pulls away when he hears a timer go off.
“You’re distracting the chef!” Davey playfully swats Jack’s knee and moves back to the stove.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jack holds his hands up in surrender.
Davey goes back to cooking, Jack puts on some music, and their night continues on.
And if later, Jack changes his phone password, no one needs to know. (Three-two-eight-three. Three – DEF. Two – ABC. Eight – TUV. Three – DEF. D-A-V-E. Dave.)