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Jax wasn’t quite sure what sat beneath his head. It was a soft surface, if only slightly cold. Whatever it was, he knew he wanted to stay there a while.
Too bad a familiar voice both precisely and suddenly cut through his thoughts, like a paper cut. His finger didn’t sting, but his heart did, if only a little, at having his slumber interrupted — he didn’t even remember falling asleep.
“Jax!”
Ribbit whisper-yelled as if they felt guilty for waking him up, bless their heart.
“Mm?”
“It’s nearly over, bun, wake up.”
“Huh?”
“The awards show, silly.”
Right. They were in the theater. That still didn’t answer what he was laying his head on.
“Heh, seems like I make a good pillow.”
Oh, God. Kill me now.
“No need to be embarrassed, honey. I don’t mind.”
Had he said that out loud? God, he was a mess. The frog’s sickeningly sweet nature wasn’t helping, either.
“It’s dark, I don’t think anyone saw us.” Ribbit scanned the theater, their eyes roaming over their fellow cast members scattered throughout the space. “Zooble’s too high on stupid sauce to process much of anything; Gangle’s drawing and not very discreetly staring at where Zooble’s mouth would be if they had one; Kinger brought one of his bugs and is currently feeding him…I think that’s Gregor the beetle? Strange name for a beetle, but who am I to judge?” Ribbit cleared their throat, realizing she was getting off-topic. “Where was I?”
Jax admittedly wasn’t paying attention; he was too busy noticing Ribbit’s little mannerisms. They didn’t have cuticles in the circus, but he assumed Ribbit had the habit of picking theirs in the real world, since they regularly went through the motions before remembering their lack of cuticles, or nails for that matter.
It was cute. A lot about them was cute. Actually, cute was an understatement. His heart felt like it was performing aerials without a spotter whenever they were around. He mentally facepalmed at the beat when his heart metaphorically face-planted.
His instinct to ignore his own feelings was getting weaker by the day, the blooming hope of them possibly feeling the same way overpowering it.
In any other instance, he’d believe that thought to be foolish, but God, wasn’t he already a lovesick fool?
“Oh right, Ragatha, she’s…oh s[BOINK]t.”
The ragdoll sat on the row in front of them, a knowing look on her face. Kaufmo sat adjacent to her, clicking his tongue and whispering something that sounded like ‘Unbelievable…’ under his breath.
“Ignore him, you guys look so cute!” Ragatha exclaimed, giddy. “Wish I’d brought a camera…” She mused to herself.
Jax buried his face back into the crook of Ribbit’s shoulder, ears down in utter shame. His cheeks burned, he was sure they were nearly the colour of Ragatha’s hair.
“Rags, I don’t think this is a good time…” Ribbit started.
That was all it took for Ragatha to lay off it with a wave of her hand and a whispered ‘Sorry’ like a protective mother.
In moments, her back was turned and Kaufmo sank further into his seat, leaving the pair away from view once again.
Ribbit nudged Jax’s head, her touch feather-light, lighter than his own heart which felt heavy in his chest. He wouldn’t pass the test, but she certainly would. Oh, how she’d make Anubis and Thoth proud. His own would no doubt be devoured by Ammit; Jax didn’t need a scale to figure that one out*.
*Refers to the ancient Egyptian ceremony “weighing of the heart”.
“See? They aren’t staring anymore,” Ribbit whispered. “I really didn’t mind being your pillow,” She assured. Why did she have to be so understanding? He couldn’t even be mad. If anything, he was embarrassed by his own reaction, a sentiment which Ribbit took note of without the need for words — because of course she did — and quickly made an effort to remedy.
“It’s okay, really.”
He didn’t seem convinced. Ribbit made the impulsive decision to kiss him on the forehead as quietly as she could. Ragatha and Kaufmo didn’t seem to notice. If they did, they didn’t comment on it.
Afterwards, the frog looked ready to apologize, but Jax was quick to peck their cheek as both a flustered thanks and a rare display of affection, which wasn’t as rare when it came to her, but still! She could tell it took a lot of courage, even if it would seem small. That meant a lot more than some grand gesture. To her, anyway. He didn’t seem to realize that, though, which she also took note of.
“Jax?”
“...Yeah?”
“Do that again sometime.”
“Would now be a good time?” He blurted out without giving it much thought, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth — not due to the words themselves, goodness no. He regretted it because they’d escaped the intimate confines of his mind and entered treacherous territory, the danger of rejection imminent — or rather, seeming imminent.
“...I’d like that.”
The rabbit wished he was capable of more than a feeble cheek kiss; she deserved infinitely more than that.
Infinity was out of reach, but she wasn’t. For once, he was determined to keep it that way.
His gloved hands reached to cup both her cheeks. His warm thumbs caressed her gelid skin, gaze wandering over her face, committing every minuscule detail to memory and, as it finally came to a stop, meeting hers, he found infinity in the gleam of her eyes, in the pale freckles which adorned her bewitching face. God, he felt as if he was under a spell. His thumb had wandered too, landing right over her bottom lip out of its own accord. His eyes joined his thumb in adoring her lips.
“Can I?”
Goodness gracious, that was too far. Too fast. Great, he’d ruined it already. Maybe there was time to apologize or flee the circus. He could gather his things and live in a small tent over by the lake like a weirdo. Maybe that’d make things less awkward. It’d be better for everyone…except his back, of course, sleeping bags aren’t very comfortable, but all that mattered to him was not making her uncomfortable. Yeah, he could do that! He could—
“Please.”
Say what now?
“You sure?”
She blinked slowly. The rabbit was messing with her, right? He couldn’t possibly be serious.
“Why wouldn’t I be, bun-bun?”
“I dunno,” He murmured sheepishly.
The frog was sure they’d never seen him this nervous. Sure, he was usually more nervous than usual around them (considering he was usually never nervous at all, far from it), but it seemed to have reached its peak, practically radiating from him in waves, like violent ones crashing repeatedly on the shore.
“Bun, look at me.”
When had he looked away? Infinity was overwhelming by nature, it getting to be too much wasn’t unexpected by any means. Still, he felt like he should’ve been stronger than that, held onto her gaze for longer. Where had his confidence gone? He really was a mess.
Soon enough, he got out of his own head and his eyes shamefully met hers once again. He wondered why she waited patiently. That seemed exactly like what she would do, yet it felt unexpected every time, since he couldn’t bring himself to be accustomed to it.
He’d already gotten attached; that was merely his pitiful attempt at keeping some semblance of dignity. Jax was sure he’d turn into a clingy bastard if he let himself get used to her alluring sweetness. Nope. Not happening. Not in a million years. His thumb left her bottom lip, both palms cupping her jaw instead.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. You know that, right?” Ribbit started, cradling his hands in hers, pressing them closer to either side of her face.
The rabbit felt his heart metaphorically face-plant again, then promptly get up and bang itself against the nearest wall, like he wanted to do with his own head at the moment. How could he even have considered pushing her away?
Jax scrambled to hold her closer; they just let him. Before he knew it, their mouths were inches apart. The infinity of the universe itself held its breath, his infinity didn’t. Her breathing was calm. Strategically so, like she was being mindful not to freak him out further.
Piercing silence followed, though her comforting presence softened the blow, leading it to feel more like a paper cut than one from a knife.
Ribbit only continued their spiel once they sensed he’d settled down.
“But…if you’re still up for it…”
The silence felt heavier than ever, though her words, her touch, they were all feather-light, cutting through the harsh waves of doubt as if they were paper.
He inched closer until the distance was closed at last.
His teeth were still firmly clamped shut, but Ribbit didn’t seem to mind.
The kiss felt both hellish and heavenly, all at once, his heart still sat heavy in his chest while hers was light, pure, almost angelical.
Goodness, he’d endure a thousand stabs to the chest if it meant getting one of her paper cuts, feeling her cool skin on his, experiencing infinity itself on his lips and always finding it in the brightness of her eyes.
His only shone when they met hers, like a natural satellite meeting the sun. The sun is cold in the grand scheme of things, after all. He’d take glacial sunshine over torrid snow any day.
By some miracle of thermodynamics, both their lips felt lukewarm once they parted.
For once, the piercing silence felt lighter and so did his heart, worries melting away, or rather, freezing and thawing off in one clean motion.
The first kiss left him both hungry for more and terrified of what would happen if more was to come. The former won out; he pulled them in again, seeing no resistance from the frog. Once he pulled back, he regained his voice.
“Ribs?”
“Yeah, Bun-Bun?”
He pecked their cheek again. Somehow, that one felt more intimate than the rest.
“Was it, y’know…how you hoped it would be?”
“Nah, it was better. Infinitely better.”
He steadied himself on her shoulder before his heart could face-plant again. She really did make a great pillow.
“Mm…how long ‘til it’s over, again?”
“Eager to get rid of me, huh?”
That made the rabbit practically jump in alarm, only now realizing how he must’ve come off. Moments like these made him resent Ribbit’s absurd abilities of getting his guard down without much effort.
“Wha– no, that’s not what I meant…”
Luckily, they read him like a book.
“I know, Bun. It’s alright. It’ll still be, like, 10 minutes,” They assured while ushering his head back into its now-familiar spot: buried in the crook of their neck.
Perhaps he’d get to stay there a while after all. This was decidedly heaven.