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Jinn’s pretty sure that after all these years, he’s developed some kind of sixth sense for Jerome’s approaching presence.
Or maybe just for Jerome, in general.
It’s the only explanation for why he’s racing down the stairs before the doorbell has even rung, already knowing Jerome will be standing on the other side of the front door to his childhood home and incapable of holding back his excitement at the prospect.
He really needs to asks Jerome at some point if he thinks his premonition powers have rubbed off on Jinn somehow.
Because as he yanks on the doorknob, Jerome’s wide smile greets him like the picture-perfect imitation of a vision straight out of Jinn’s wildest dreams, the taller man crowding him back into the house with hands that slide over his waist.
“J!” Jinn whisper-yells as Jerome presses a sniff kiss against his cheek, the other man’s laugh reverberating through his chest as Jinn’s lips get captured in a brief yet lingering kiss. “My mom’s upstairs, she’s gonna see us!” he bemoans, pushing at Jerome’s shoulders with barely any strength.
Looking back at the staircase, Jerome doesn’t seem to care much that they might get caught before Jinn has any chance to explain to other people that their eternal feud has changed pace, holding Jinn tighter to his chest and leaving behind the imprint of his mouth as a memory against Jinn’s cheek.
“She won’t,” he reassures, and Jinn knows it’s probably true, yet his heart’s pounding too much for him to think rationally, Jerome’s proximity and Jerome’s eyes and Jerome’s lips not helping in the slightest.
His hand meets the wall before Jinn’s back can, keeping him from slamming against it as their lips meet again, slow and sweet in a way Jinn never pictured Jerome might be, not even in his romantic fantasies of ever ending up with the guy he’s been in love with his whole life.
Stepping back only an inch, Jerome brushes stray hairs off his forehead, and Jinn isn’t sure if he wants to kiss him again or kick Jerome’s ass for being so gentle with him.
It’s too different, too new, and no matter how much Jinn has wanted this gentleness, it’ll take time getting familiarised with.
Jerome’s pretty brown eyes, so honest now, definitely will aid in making Jinn fall even more, melting him from the inside out.
Hand trailing down, Jerome cups his face in his palm, gaze running over Jinn’s features as if he’s trying to memorise them, fingers tangling in the hairs at Jinn’s nape.
Unused to being stared at so openly, Jinn drags in a shaky breath, wondering just what Jerome sees when that expression crosses his face, as if he’s far away with his body still right here.
What do his visions tell him that he clings to Jinn like he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye?
“If you keep looking at me too much,” Jinn aims for a teasing tone, the trembling of his voice likely betraying him, “my face’s just gonna melt right off.”
Jerome blinks at him, returning from wherever his mind travelled to in the couple seconds they stand there on the foyer, his smile underlined by a sadness he isn’t telling Jinn about. “Can’t I miss my boyfriend?”
Head tilting to the side, Jinn stares deeply into his eyes, letting him keep whatever has him so worried for Jinn to himself. For now, at least, just until Jinn knows he’ll do something stupid to protect him again.
“Your what?” he mocks, hands to Jerome’s upper arms and feigning ignorance.
Jinn refuses to be held accountable for needing the reassurance, and the other man doesn’t seem to mind it one bit.
Jerome’s nose scrunches in a way that Jinn would kick himself for finding adorable only a few weeks ago yet can now allow himself to properly feel endeared by. “My boyfriend,” he stresses the word, squeezing Jinn’s waist.
“I don’t think I understand,” Jinn drawls out, needing to hear it again and again until the word repeats itself inside his mind for long enough that reality starts to feel real and not made up in his head.
Cocking an eyebrow at him, Jerome smirks like he’s scheming a way to get Jinn into his trap again, as he always has fallen into it. “Do you want me to yell?” Not waiting for a reply, he takes a deep breath, head falling back as he, too loud for the secrecy Jinn’s trying and failing to keep, starts saying, “My–”
“Shut up,” Jinn tells him, clamping a hand down on his mouth and groaning as Jerome licks his palm. “You’re the worst.”
“You love me anyway,” Jerome shrugs, leaning closer and making Jinn fall back against the wall for support.
The sentence spikes Jinn’s heartbeat, momentarily forgetting that it’s a truth acknowledged by them both now, before he relaxes, Jerome’s nose trailing over his cheek so he can whisper and I love you against Jinn’s skin.
“I never said that.” Attempting nonchalance, Jinn’s well aware that his arms wound around Jerome’s neck don’t help his case.
“I can shout my love for you if it’ll help–”
“Get out!” Jinn hisses, pushing him out the door and into the backyard, looking behind himself to make sure his mom hasn’t noticed that he’s leaving hand in hand with Jerome.
Rushing in front of his boyfriend, Jinn drops his grasp on him to fall back onto the grass, arms sprawled around him as he stares up at the sky – and a little bit at Jerome too, just because he can.
It still feels surreal, even strange if Jinn’s to be honest, that Jerome’s here with him, proclaiming himself as Jinn’s lover and courting him, no matter how silly he seems to be with it.
Jinn’s not gonna tell him, but there’s no need for the courting when he already fell for him so long ago – let Jerome work just that much harder to win a heart that’s belonged to him for as long as Jinn’s understood what being in love is supposed to mean.
Settling his bag down next to them, Jerome sits by his side, abandoning his red jacket over the grass, and Jinn would be lying if he said he doesn’t get the urge to kiss him again, and Jerome has to know that, his smirk far too telling for someone who’s known him his whole life.
“If you continue to look at me so much, my face’s gonna melt, Nong Jinn,” he parrots, the insufferable asshole, and Jinn will deck him at some point in the future, no visions needed for him to know as much, as soon as he manages to fight off the blush on his cheeks.
“You’re so full of yourself,” Jinn mumbles, knowing that he doesn’t sound half as convincing now as he did before they started dating.
“Is that one of the reasons you fell in love with me?” Jerome pokes at his cheek, smiling to himself as Jinn fails at holding back his own grin. “I’ll stop, I swear,” he holds both hands up when Jinn pretends he’ll kick him, “you’re just too cute when you’re acting like you’re mad.”
I’m not cute, Jinn wants to argue, despite knowing it’s a losing battle, but the words die in his throat the very second Jerome leans closer to him, his fingertips tender as they squeeze at the bridge of his nose.
“You’ll always be the cutest to me, Nong Jinn.” And Jerome seems to have his own sixth sense for Jinn too, knowing exactly what’s on his mind.
“Do you ever stop doing that?” Jinn blurts out without thinking it first, and damn Jerome’s ability to render him into a mess of impulsive actions each and every time.
“Doing what?” Jinn hates his confused face and hates how adorable he thinks it is and hates that he can’t hide how in love with Jerome he is, the redness of his ears clearly showing how smitten he feels right now, made even more obvious as Jerome’s expression shifts from puzzlement to smugness, eyes lit up. “Can’t I flirt with my boyfriend?” he feigns a complaint, reaching for Jinn’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “Are you shy, Jinn?”
He's moved into some sort of parallel dimension, right? It’s the sole explanation he can think of for the conundrum they’re in, Jerome shamelessly flirting with him using the worst lines possible and it not being some sort of sick joke from the universe.
“Shy, my ass,” he mutters in response, but doesn’t pull his hand away from Jerome’s, bringing their joined palms to his chest and acting as if his whole face isn’t burning from it. “It’s just weird to have you flirt with me.”
But it’s not a joke, and Jerome’s being sincere, something in Jinn’s gut compelling him to believe the earnestness with which Jerome falls more and more and doesn’t seem embarrassed by it in the slightest, only falling again and telling Jinn all about it.
His ears will burn up and Jerome won’t shut up and he supposes, out of all paths fate could’ve sent them down, this one might be the one he’s always wanted to find.
They’re still sitting in the same old backyard Jinn used to run around on as a kid, in the same old dimension where they were enemies for life and are now lovers for lifetimes.
“Well,” Jerome drawls, winking at him conspiratorially, “you better get used to it. Because it’s my new favourite thing, paired with how you look like a little kitten.”
“I’m gonna shove my foot so far up your–”
“I stand corrected,” Jerome cuts him off as Jinn sits up in a rush, looking far too amused with himself for his own good. “An angry little kitten.”
“You–!” Jinn exclaims, hurling towards him and sending them both sprawling down onto the grass, his hands on either side of Jerome’s head and the most detestably beautiful smile he’s ever seen plastered over Jerome’s lips.
They’ve been like this before, what feels like a whole lifetime ago, Jinn falling from a great – stop laughing, J, you asshole! – height right on top of Jerome.
All circumstances of then and now, as Jinn can hardly believe, stand in stark contrast with each other. Where he once hid his feelings close to his chest, only to be read by his own eyes when the anger subsided and he could think clearly again, now his heart lies out on the open, held by Jerome’s hands like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever found.
Brown eyes, swirling with the colours of the setting sun, stare up at him with a barrage of delight glittering in their irises, one hand curling around Jinn’s neck while the other presses on his back to bring him closer to Jerome.
“J…” he mumbles, falling into him with a lot more ease than his brain, still not entirely convinced, thinks he should. But it’s his heart that’s in control right now, lips finding Jerome’s like he has a map for them, met with the same intensity, the same desire to discover all that can be found about the other person.
In all his daydreams about what it’d be like to be with Jerome, the one thing Jinn never allowed himself to wonder over was what his kiss might feel like.
He doesn’t have to wonder in the silent recesses of his brain any longer.
Because Jerome kisses him like he flirts with him, like he’s done everything from the moment Jinn agreed to be his boyfriend - – with an openness to be Jinn’s, to understand him and mold himself to the sharp edges of Jinn that leave him breathless.
“Jinn!” his mother’s voice sounds from the front of the house, loud and approaching fast, and Jinn’s off the other man in a flash, as if he’s been electrocuted. “Jinn, where are you?”
Air comes in laboured through his mouth, hand to his chest as he tries to calm his racing heartbeat down and a shoe flying in the vague direction of Jerome as he won’t stop cackling like a madman. “I’m at the back, mae,” he calls out, shaking Jerome so he’ll quit it with the laughing.
As she appears through the gate, Jinn does his best to seem nonchalant, pointedly not looking at Jerome and his beaming smile.
“I’m going out for a bit,” his mother explains, greeting Jerome as he wai’s to the older woman. Motioning between them, she eyes them with wariness. “You two are pretty glued these days, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Jerome smirks, self-satisfaction dripping from his tone. “Jinn and I,” he throws an arm around Jinn’s shoulders, squeezing him, “are very good friends, right?” Turning to Jinn, he wiggles his brows, as if daring him to deny it.
Offering him his most sardonic expression, Jinn fakes concern. “I think the accident really fucked with your brain, J.”
“Oi!” his mother complains. “Watch your language.”
Wai’ing, he tries to elbow Jerome away, unsuccessfully. “Sorry, mae.”
Smiling to herself, Jan crosses her arms over her chest. “Try not to kill each other while I’m away, please.”
“I’ll try,” Jinn replies, waving as she walks away.
Still holding onto Jinn, Jerome winds both arms around his waist, chin to his shoulder so he can say in a low tone, “How about kissing? Will you try that too?”
Jinn bites down on his bottom lip, looking him in the eye and holding his ground at not instantly folding at the mischievous glint he sees there. “Keep that up and I’ll leave kiss-less for a week.”
“You lied to your mom,” Jerome accuses with the biggest pout to ever exist on his mouth. “You are trying to kill me.”
Thinking and thinking, and then thinking some more, Jinn leans in, pressing a quick peck to Jerome’s pouty lips and laughing as his expression morphs entirely. “Better now?”
He’s pretty sure Jerome hasn’t only become more like his future self, but also like a giant puppy, nodding excitedly in response. “Much. I’ve got something for you.” Reaching for his bag, he pulls out a small box, covered in fabric scraps just like Jinn’s old diary.
“What’s that?” Jinn points to the container with suspicion, Jerome reaching for the furrow between his browns and easing it with his thumb like he doesn’t even have to think about it.
“Cookies,” the taller man explains as Jinn can only gape at him. “I made them for you.”
Blinking up at him, Jinn flexes his fingers in the fabric of his pants. “Why?”
The lid falls open, revealing an assortment of sweets that look delicious, yet Jinn still isn’t sure if he should reach for one. “Because you like cookies?” Jerome utters, sounding slightly confused.
“But why did you make them?” Jinn hopes it isn’t obvious that he’s leaning closer into Jerome’s space just so their arms will bump together and then reminds himself that he doesn't have to hide it, not when Jerome does the same to him.
“Because you’re my boyfriend?” Not when they’re dating, his brain recalls from the haze.
The word boyfriend hangs heavily between them every time Jerome says it, like Jinn’s just been brought back to reality after daydreaming more than he should.
He still can’t say it out loud himself, as if this new phase of whatever crazy relationship they’ve got going on for years on end will simply disappear if Jinn acknowledges it for too long.
Jerome won’t let him forget, though, not if he has any say on it.
“I wanted to make something for you,” Jerome adds on as Jinn remains silent. “I know omelettes aren’t my greatest strength in the kitchen. I know you hate cooking, so I decided to learn it for you.”
Jinn lifts a hand to his forehead, pretending to be seeking for a fever they both know isn’t there. “Who are you?”
Taking a hold of Jinn’s wrist as it presses to his cheek, Jerome rests a small kiss against the skin of his palm, not letting him go far when Jinn gets too embarrassed by it to handle the butterflies batting up a storm of wings in his stomach. “Your boyfriend, Nong Jinn. I know I’m really cool, you don’t have to be so amazed.”
“Asshole,” he hisses, smile shining through.
The insults seem to fuel Jerome even more now that he’s in a relationship with Jinn than it did when they were still fighting, and how they fuelled him when Jinn thought all they’d ever have was enmity. “Love you too, brat. Here,” he holds up a cookie covered, somewhat appetisingly, in red icing, and cocks his head to the side as Jinn doesn’t comply to his request. “No, it’s not a joke, and it’s not a prank, and I really did make these, and no, I’m not taking the piss out of you.”
Giggles fall unbidden from Jinn’s lips. “Really covering all the bases.”
“I’ve known you my whole life, Jinn.” Suddenly, Jerome sounds a lot more serious, more mature, like the future version of him is speaking through his mouth, and Jinn can see, even in a glimpse, why they might end up together in a decade. “I know you don’t really trust what we have yet, but I want you to. I hope you will.”
“I’m trying to,” Jinn responds softly, fingers rounding Jerome’s hand to bring the cookie to his mouth, strawberry sweetness exploding on his tongue at the first bite. “Keep courting me and I might get used to being spoiled soon.”
“Ah,” Jerome breaks out in the widest grin the universe has ever witnesses, thumb brushing away crumbs from the corner of Jinn’s lips, “so you do like me courting you!”
Jinn shuts that down immediately, keeping Jerome’s hand right where it is and knowing his pointed look is a lot less effective when he clings to the taller man as much as he’s clung to. “That’s not what I said.”
It does nothing to dim the brightness of Jerome’s joy, the sun envious of how shinny he is right now, sitting on the grass of Jinn’s backyard like he belongs here, holding Jinn close like they belong together. “But it’s going to be how I interpret it, so…”
“Ugh,” Jinn groans to himself, not letting him move away for even a second, “you’re insufferable.”
The red cookie disappears, a green one taking its place between Jerome’s fingers, the minty flavour as delicious as the strawberry one, and Jinn will have to admit that he’s done a great job out of courting him this time. “Something tells me you don’t really mind it all that much.”
“And what is it?” Lips pursed, Jinn tries with all his might not to fall into the trap of Jerome’s flirtations, a lost cause the very second Jerome leans in to capture him into a kiss, not sweet like when they first saw each other today, or quick like tiny pecks rained onto his face.
This kiss is unhurried, time sprawling around them like a tapestry of who they were in the past and who they could be in the future, coalesced into who they are now, in this present where Jerome kisses Jinn like it’s the thing he wants most, to keep him close and know that Jinn, as he always has been, as he always will be, is right here, in front of him.
Being unfamiliar with loving Jerome where the world can see them won’t stop Jinn from loving him with all he has, won’t hold him back from enjoying all the kisses Jerome freely gives him, as if he’ll never tire of stealing Jinn’s breath away.
Smiling against his lips, Jerome grants him a final peck before pulling away, far too proud of rendering Jinn speechless. “You taste like cookies,” he teases, nose bumping with Jinn’s.
Eyes rolling as he fights the urge to follow after Jerome and get even more kisses as a reward for enduring the dickhead he’s fallen madly in love with, Jinn reaches for his lighter, pulling out a cigarette in search for something to occupy his fingers that doesn’t involve them curling into the collar of Jerome’s shirt.
Before he can light the cigarette resting on his lips, Jerome steals his lighter, throwing it up once before leaning in to be the one to set the end of it on fire, staring intently at Jinn as the air around them sizzles with electricity.
Will Jinn ever grow used to the proximity or will each kiss they share feel like the very first?
“Did you like the cookies?” Jerome whispers into the sliver of space between them, watching Jinn puff out smoke like he has nothing he’d rather be doing than just observing Jinn exist.
Shrugging, Jinn teases, “They’re alright, I guess.”
Laughing, Jerome looks down at his lap, bringing Jinn’s hand to rest over his leg between both of his, before gazing up at him once more. “What about me?”
“What about you?” he ponders in confusion, smoke curling around them like a curtain that might protect them from reality and whatever lurks in the nightmares Jerome won’t share with him.
“Do you like me?” Asking without roundabouts, Jerome knows exactly what kind of answer he wants – and so does Jinn, still too hesitant to say out loud what they both know is true.
“What do you think?” he proposes instead, clutching Jerome’s hand as tightly as the other man clings to his.
“That you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
That’s not the answer Jinn expects, mouth hanging open as the cigarette nearly drops from his fingers. “What?” he dumbly mumbles in response, Jerome’s gaze far too soft for it to be healthy for his poor heart.
“I don’t know what kind of person I was supposed to be without these visions, but I do know that I like the person I’ve become because I love you.” It’s the sincerity that gets to Jinn each time Jerome becomes serious like this, speaking his mind in a way that’s completely different to what he’s used to from his lifelong rival. “Not just because I saw myself loving you in the future,” he adds, as if it’s important to him that Jinn knows it. “I love you now, Jinn, I mean it.”
Bringing Jerome’s hand up to his face, Jinn doesn’t look away from him, no matter how hot his cheeks are burning, taking another drag for courage as he says, “I believe you.”
Jerome’s smile makes him feel ten thousand times more red in the face, the kiss laid on his cheek sealing it. “Thank you.” When Jinn doesn’t get what he’s saying, he continues, “For trusting me just that little bit more. I’ll show you just how much I love you until you believe all of it.”
The cigarette doesn’t aid in making Jinn look cool in the slightest, not when he can feel himself tearing up in the middle of his backyard because his idiot boyfriend has no idea how many love confessions Jinn has imagined coming from his lips, none of them comparing to having the real thing in front of him.
But he doesn’t have to say a thing, Jerome wiping away a stray tear and pinching his cheek for good measure. “My boyfriend’s the cutest in the world.”
“I think my boyfriend has competition, then,” he fires back, delighted to see how Jerome’s face changes as he takes in the words, mouth falling open and eyelids blinking repeatedly.
“Did you just call me cute?” Jerome says, consternation clear in his voice, but he looks happier than Jinn has seen him all week, just from a single compliment.
“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” Jinn claims, the cigarette shortening the longer he stares at Jerome.
“P’Jinn,” he sounds close to whining, taking Jinn’s palm and fitting it under his chin. It messes with Jinn’s heart more than he’s willing to admit at the moment. “Am I not cute?”
At some point in the not-so-distant past, Jinn would’ve told him to fuck off and disappear – right now, all he can do is giggle at Jerome’s kicked puppy look. “What is wrong with you?”
“Many things,” the other points out, making Jinn pinch his chin. “It’s why you love me.”
“Maybe,” Jinn agrees, smirking when Jerome leans in closer to hear him better.
“What was that?”
Shoulders rising and falling, Jinn shakes him by his grasp on Jerome’s face. “Maybe you’re cute.” His hand falls, fingers trailing around the edge of Jerome’s shirt where it meets his forearm. “Maybe I like you. Maybe this is the best afternoon of my life, something like that.”
Jerome looks positively elated at Jinn’s admissions, holding his free hand like he never wants to let him go. “I’m gonna make you a truckload of cookies and you’ll think I’m the coolest guy in the world.”
“Please don’t,” Jinn groans, another fight he already knows he’ll lose – he doesn’t care as much about being the loser in this one, though, when tomorrow he’ll find Jerome still here, still his, in all the ways he never thought he’d have.
“Too late,” Jerome grins, picking up another cookie from the abandoned box and offering it to Jinn, the blueberry taste not quite as potent as the strawberry and mint ones, but still delicious.
Jinn munches under Jerome’s watchful gaze, battling with his blush and not quite getting to win as the taller man brushes non-existent crumbs away. “I’m gonna have to get used to this, right?”
Humming in affirmation, Jerome tangles their legs together over the grass, as if he too can’t bear to be away from Jinn for even a second, his clinginess surprising though not unwelcomed. “Cause I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Jinn bites back, the snark in his tone all pretence, not that Jerome will find out. “Hey,” he complains as soon as Jerome moves just an inch away to reach for his bag, “you’re supposed to stay.”
“Do you hear that?” Teasing, Jerome presses Jinn’s hand to his chest. “It’s my heart racing.”
Palm splayed out, Jinn shoves him, nudging him with his foot as Jerome falls back onto the grass, breathless laughter escaping him. “Why am I dating you again?”
“I’m the love of your life,” Jerome responds without a second thought, as he does to most things. “You’re the love of mine. I don’t need to see the future to know that.”
“Your ego’s too big, someone needs to kick your ass back into place,” Jinn complains, turning the words around in his brain like they’ll somehow make more sense if he analyses them for longer.
The love of his life – he doesn’t need to be reminded of it, not when it’s a certainty he’s had for years.
The love of Jerome’s life – that’s not something he’s permitted himself to think of, when Jerome seemed like he’d never look his way for long enough to see Jinn as a friend, much less as a lover.
Jerome doesn’t allow him to dwell into these deprecating thoughts, catching Jinn’s hand and fitting his fingers around his. “I joke about a lot of things, but not my love for you, Jinn.” He’s stern, not leaving room for doubt about his words. “It took me a long time to realize, and I’m sorry I made you hurt all this time. But I know that, even if we’re not together in the future, you’ll always be my first love.”
Truthfulness swims in Jerome’s brown eyes, not straying from Jinn’s face, and he hates how easily he’s brought to tears these days, but makes no motion to hold them back now.
For once, for this, he lets himself be vulnerable, to show Jerome all the emotions he’s been bottling up for all the time they’ve known each other.
Sniffling, Jinn wipes at his face with the back of his hand, Jerome rubbing his knee to comfort him. “The cutest boyfriend,” he mutters, hand tightly woven with Jinn’s.
The cigarette has reached its halfway point, not distracting Jinn from his fierce blushing for even a second. He needs Jerome to stop, or he’ll combust on the spot. “Is there a button I can press to stop the cheesiness or…”
“No,” Jerome shakes his head, nose scrunching in that way Jinn refuses to tell he finds adorable. “You’re stuck with me, P’Jinn.”
Looking down at Jerome and his halo of hair over the grass of his childhood backyard hits Jinn with a pang of nostalgia for a past that isn’t quite theirs, a future that might belong to them alone. “Have I ever not been stuck with you, Nong J?”
Jerome seems to ponder it for a moment, an expression filled with teasing before his headshake expresses the disagreement, smiling wide as Jinn mimics him.
Sitting up, he plays with Jinn’s fingers while watching him smoke for long, silent seconds, filled with nothing but a sense of peace as the sun vanishes behind the horizon, another day coming to an end.
Jinn knows the look in his eyes like the back of his hand, a vision overtaking Jerome and then abandoning him to return to the present – yet he doesn’t look troubled, a serene glaze to his brown irises, and for once, Jinn isn’t worried he’s seen something terrible.
He wants to ask, to know what lingers in Jerome’s mind each time a glimpse of who they’ll be in ten years hits him, but he doesn’t have to wonder too much right now.
Something tells him this premonition doesn’t look too different from what they have now.
“Do you believe in fate?” Jerome ponders, fingers brushing Jinn’s hair behind his ear.
Through the puffs of smoke, Jinn sees him in stark clarity, imperfect and beautiful and, though he won’t say it, not now, the love of Jinn’s life. “I didn’t use to,” he admits in a whisper, electricity bursting everywhere Jerome’s fingertips find him. “But I do now.”
“I didn’t, either,” Jerome confesses. “This,” he pulls out a familiar book from his bag, swinging it in front of Jinn, “changed everything in my mind.”
“My diary?” Jinn tilts his head in puzzlement.
Leaning in, Jerome flicks his finger against Jinn’s nose, pleased with the curling of Jinn’s lips at the motion. “Our feelings,” he states, sure and firm, plucking out a pencil and opening the pages to a blank one, a sketch that Jinn can’t define yet coming to life upon it.
Cigarette to his lips, Jinn takes a drag as he watches Jerome hold the brightly coloured notebook that once hid in his drawer like a prized possession. “You really like it, huh?” he teasingly asks, nudging his boyfriend with an elbow.
“Of course,” Jerome replies without missing a beat. He falls forward, pinching Jinn’s nose between his fingers with a wide grin. “It was the first to know that you love me.”
Jinn shoves him off, holding back his smile as impossible as not wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he berates, eyebrows scrunched, yet it does nothing to stop that infuriatingly handsome self-satisfied expression from painting itself all over Jerome’s face. “Focus on the parts where I called you a dickhead.”
“I like reading those too.” Jerome’s eyes are too soft for Jinn to be able to look at him head on, staring down at his lap, leg thrown over Jerome’s. “They make me remember why I should cherish you even more.” With a thumb under Jinn’s chin, he brings their gazes together, “So you won’t regret loving me ever again.”
“I don’t,” Jinn promptly replies, ears burning in embarrassment, and he can’t even blame the sun for the bright blush on his cheeks. “I mean, I–”
Jerome cuts through his stuttering, pecking Jinn’s lips with a small smile. “I know,” he appeases, “and I’m being serious. You’ve regretted it, and I don’t want it to happen again. If we ever end up not together, I just want you to think it’s good while it lasts.”
Jinn’s face will melt if Jerome continues to look at him so much, but right now he can’t find it in himself to care, leaning up to respond with a kiss of his own. “It is,” he affirms, a shyness that he associates solely with Jerome and their budding relationship flowing in his blood.
“And if it lasts forever?” There’s an underlying wish in his voice, something that feels both familiar and brand new, like living their whole lives right next to each other, like finding themselves in a love that tints everything in shades of blushy pink.
“Keep dreaming,” Jinn taunts, both a jab and a desire that what Jerome sees in his visions might be true, that in ten years this shared life will be the same, where they hug, where they kiss, where they love each other. “I’m tired,” he claims, pressing against Jerome’s side with his head on the other’s shoulder.
“Bad dreams, punk,” Jerome tells him, gently patting Jinn’s hair and smiling even broader as Jinn snuggles up to him, words undercut by a current of fondness that tells Jinn he’s probably already seen a future where they sleep side by side a thousand times.
“Fuck off, sweetheart,” Jinn mocks, arms wound around Jerome’s own.
Chuckling, Jerome fixes his posture so Jinn can properly settle against him, whispering softly, “Love you too.” And as if he can read Jinn’s mind, he adds on, “It’s always better when I get to experience it with you.”
“Who knew you could be so sappy?” Jinn mumbles, making himself more comfortable as he settles against Jerome’s shoulder.
Fixing Jinn’s hair with his pencil, Jerome smiles. “Only for you.”
There are many questions Jinn’s yet to ask – Jerome will answer them, one at a time, until they know each other inside out.
For now, he falls asleep against his boyfriend’s shoulder, a little more at home, a little more Jinn, a little more Jerome’s.