Work Text:
Rocky Beach, 1968
The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do.
Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.
"I believe," Jupiter Jones said, "I am in need of assistance."
Bob Andrews looked up from his typewriter. "You're stuck?"
"It's just," Jupiter said, hesitating, "this part about how Elizabeth would have been able to see Mr Darcy's heartfelt delight if she saw his eyes."
"Mmm. What's confusing about that?"
"I was wondering why Austen chose to say "encounter his eyes" rather than looking at his whole face or observing his whole body language. Perhaps "his countenance" would be fitting."
"Well," Bob replied, "they say the eyes are the window to our soul, Jupe."
The First Investigator looked thoughtful and leaned back in his chair.
It was evening in the Headquarters, and the investigators were doing an English assignment for school. They chose to do it in their detective firm's secret space, since there were relatives visiting the Jones family home. Jupiter would rather focus on the task rather than being roped into a few hours of banter.
Mrs. Ridley, their English teacher, had asked the class to choose one of Jane Austen's books and present their insights to the class, and pair up. Pete immediately paired with his girlfriend Kelly—no doubt for an opportunity to meet her more, and Bob paired with Jupiter.
Jupiter was secretly glad as Bob was the best in the subject. Bob's expertise in research and typing also proved to be handy in crafting their report.
"You could argue that it's simply Austen's literary style," Bob continued. "As in, that's just how she writes... but I think that's it. When you meet someone's gaze, you see their entire emotion. That's what's being expressed here. Subtleties, Jupe. Sometimes you don't need to describe everything precisely."
"Alright," Jupiter nodded, writing what Bob had said.
Bob stared at Jupiter and grinned. "I know that look. You're trying to make sense of it but it's neither something scientific nor something you've experienced yourself, so it's hard for you to be confident in what you write."
"Great deduction, Bob," Jupiter looked pleased. "Perhaps we should name you Third Investigator instead of Records and Research."
Bob shook his head. "I like my job. You said it yourself that modern investigation requires intensive research and methodical archiving. Besides, imagine us calling each other "First", "Second", and "Third". Comical, don't you think? I much prefer our current arrangement."
"Sounds good to me, Records," Jupiter nodded. There was something about Bob's sensibility that he really enjoyed. Of course, their trio was incomplete without Pete Crenshaw, and their athletic friend would instantly brighten up their day no matter what. But there was something about Bob's presence that Jupiter would prefer to have, especially when his brain was searching for a calm clarity.
Simple conversations like this.
"You read a great deal, Jupe," Bob said. "Maybe you just need to read more romantic novels to familiarize yourself with how subtleties work in a narrative."
"It's not really something up my alley…"
"Either that, or get real life experience," Bob teased. "Go and date someone. You can be pretty charming when you want to. Remember the girl who wanted to be your pen pal?"
"I'd rather not," Jupiter answered solemnly. "That's just one girl. And I didn't even know that she liked me that way."
Bob laughed. "I guess the next girl has to speak her intentions more directly to you."
"I shouldn't expect the girl to approach me in the first place," Jupiter remarked. "My aunt said it's the gentleman who needs to initiate."
"Not necessarily," Bob shrugged. "Liz said she liked me first."
"But it didn't work out."
"Ouch," Bob dramatically held one hand to his chest. "Way to remind me of my most painful heartbreak, Jones."
"You mean your only heartbreak," Jupiter said offhandedly. "And then you became Rocky Beach Central School's number one heartbreaker."
"Hey now!" Bob exclaimed. "I was just being nice to those girls. If they thought bringing them out to dinner, and being helpful, and listening to their problems is showing interest… wait, I see it now."
Jupiter poked him with a pen. Bob retaliated by squeezing Jupiter's cheeks. Jupiter tried to tickle him but Bob expected that, and instead poked Jupiter's waist and he yelped. This went back and forth until they were a bundle of giggles.
"That's enough," Bob laughed. "You're silly, Jupe."
"You started it," Jupiter let out a small laugh. "We really ought to go back to our paper."
"Agreed."
They worked diligently for a while. The clock ticked, filling the space with a dampened noise they barely noticed. They could hear Blackbeard croaking from Jupiter's workshop, just outside the Headquarters. It was a pleasant evening in the spring.
"Maybe it doesn't need to be an experience with girls…" Bob suddenly said.
"What do you mean?" Jupiter asked.
"We could practice here. With each other. Say, face me please, Jupe."
Jupiter complied, curious. It was a rare moment where he wasn't in charge, but he was somehow alright with Bob taking the lead at times.
"Your eyes," Bob began, "hide mysteries and questions, conundrums like no other. Like onyxes from a faraway land. Dark pearls from the depths of the ocean."
"Bob, what—?"
"Truly so," Bob continued wholeheartedly. "How I wish to wake up to your gaze, at each dawn, for the rest of my life."
Jupiter gaped, then realized that Bob was practicing the art of romance writing on him.
"Oh," Jupiter said, unsure. "It's an exercise."
Bob grinned. "You looked surprised."
Jupiter averted his gaze. "I'm just not used to hearing such things about myself. I know you just said it for the sake of our assignment, but—"
"Oh I mean it, Jupe," Bob countered. "It's an exercise, but everything I said was true. You have really pretty eyes. Like a deer."
Jupiter didn't know what to say.
"And I really could see the range of your emotions from your gaze alone," Bob stated, a grin on his face. "That was interesting. So…"
Bob took off his glasses and set it carefully on the table. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let his eyes adjust to the slightly blurred sight. Then he turned to Jupiter.
"Your turn. Describe my eyes."
Jupiter looked incredulous.
"Look at me carefully and describe my eyes," Bob repeated, more firmly this time.
"Alright," Jupiter nodded. "Your eyes are blue."
Bob waited.
"That's it? Come on, Jupe."
"Such color occurs due to the lack of pigment at the front layer of the iris, called the stroma—"
"Poetic, Jupiter. Not scientific. Use your experience, analogies, comparisons if you want."
Jupiter sighed. This time he really looked. The blue was more striking than he thought. Bob's eyes are usually hidden behind his glasses, but like this… it's like…
"A summer sky," Jupiter began. He cleared his throat. "Your eyes are like the summer sky… where the birds chirp and the petals blossom. That's… what your eyes remind me of?"
Bob nodded. "What else?"
"You gaze at me like waves crashing upon the ocean," Jupiter continued. "A constellation of wonder that pierces into my soul."
"Woah," Bob blinked, slightly surprised. "I'm flattered. See, you can do it when you put your mind into it."
Jupiter gave a small smile. Somehow he felt nervous.
He observed Bob's face again. He'd known his friend since they were six, so there were a lot of things he'd realized he'd taken for granted. Bob's radiant eyes were usually unnoticed behind his spectacles, but like this… Jupiter realized why some of the girls at school would whisper among themselves when Bob took his glasses off to clean it.
Bob Andrews was really handsome. That was the conclusion that Jupiter had made. He thought about his two best friends. People would usually notice Pete first. He had those typical attractive attributes, and you could believe that he stepped out of a surf magazine.
But with Bob… the more he looked, the more he wanted to keep looking. Narrow nose, thoughtful eyes, sharp jawline, soft pink lips… Jupiter suddenly felt heat creeping up his cheeks and looked elsewhere.
What was that?
Jupiter didn't have time to process his thoughts and was again caught by surprise when he felt Bob's hand on his.
"Next experiment," Bob said calmly. "Sense of touch. Describe how my hand feels."
Jupiter took a sharp breath and squeezed Bob's hand unconsciously. Bob smiled and squeezed back. "You okay, Jupe?"
"Yes," Jupiter said abruptly. His heart rate went up. Words didn't come to him as easily as usual.
What was happening? It's not like he never held Bob's hand before! How about that time he helped Bob up from a ditch? And another time Bob grabbed him from a car that ran the traffic light?
This was different though. Bob Andrews, gently holding his hand, smiling, eyes fixed on him.
"It's, uh… your hand is softer than I thought?" Jupiter mumbled. "Like… like a velvet couch."
Jupiter suddenly felt stupid. Velvet couch? Really? What's romantic about that?
And yet it was the one thing he could honestly say, amidst the unfamiliar chaos in his mind.
It felt nice. Really nice.
He wondered if Bob felt the same way.
Bob held Jupiter's hand for a few seconds longer than he had intended. It felt comfortable. Jupiter's hand was rough from all the work in the salvage yard, but there was a certain warmth about it. His own fingers, more used to typing, writing shorthand, and pushing the buttons of a camera shutter, felt at home while intertwined with Jupiter's.
Bob let out a small smile.
"I could kiss you right now just so you know what it feels like."
Jupiter froze. "…Excuse me?"
Bob smirked, but his eyes were searching Jupiter's gaze. "You said an investigator must always be open to new experiences."
"I—that's not what I…" Jupiter blinked a few times, surprised. He was actually considering it. His heart beat faster, and his face felt really hot. Bob must have noticed how red he had become.
"Come on, Jupe," Bob laughed. "I promise I'll be gentle."
Jupiter scoffed and looked away. "I'm not a girl…"
"I know," Bob touched Jupiter's cheek, tilting his face back. "It's just an experiment. This stays between us."
Between us.
Jupiter's heart made a tiny jump. Why was that exciting? Something only between him and Bob—even Pete wouldn't know?
Bob's finger brushed over Jupiter's lips, and before they both realized, Bob leaned in.
Jupiter didn't back away.
Their lips met.
For a moment, it was as though words and deductions ceased to exist.
Soft. Warm. The faint scent of paper and old books. A whiff of wood and metal from the workshop. Bob's cologne. Jupiter's shampoo. The slight tentativeness in Bob's fingers, brushing over Jupiter's knuckle. Bob's lips were careful, as though he would be ready to pull away the moment Jupiter reacted negatively.
But Jupiter didn't.
So Bob shifted slightly, pressing just a fraction closer.
Jupiter took a shaky breath. Logic failed to explain why this felt right. But that was it—a feeling. All he knew was that he wanted to be with Bob right here.
When Bob drew back, it was reluctant. He watched Jupiter's reaction, observing any sign of distress.
Jupiter blinked a few times, lips slightly trembling. His logical mind trying to catch up with what had just happened.
"Well…?" Bob asked softly. "Wanna describe that?"
Jupiter opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Bob thought it was adorable, the way the confident First Investigator was completely speechless after a kiss.
After a kiss with him.
"It was…" Jupiter began, but he stopped.
Bob's smile widened, amused. "Hmm. It seems that we need more data."
"Wait—"
Bob didn't wait. He leaned in again, capturing Jupiter's lips, this time with a heightened degree of urgency. As if he was desperate to feel him again.
Jupiter could feel Bob deepening the kiss, and, surprising himself, he responded. His hand moved to the back of Bob's head, running through his hair and resting on the back of his neck.
A small sound escaped Bob's throat, and Jupiter whimpered in response.
If there was a line between a mere experiment and whatever this was, they had long crossed it.
The kiss grew more intense and dangerous—until the need for air broke them apart.
They hovered there for a moment, breaths uneven. Eyes frantically searching each other's faces. What have they done? What to do next? What should they say?
Neither of them moved. For a long minute they just sat there and stared at each other.
Until a voice suddenly called from outside.
"Jupiter Jones!! Where on earth are you?? Your cousin said he saw you in the yard!"
They both jerked apart, as if struck by lightning.
Bob hurriedly put his glasses back on. Jupiter grabbed the microphone which connected to the salvage yard.
"I'll be there soon, Aunt Mathilda!"
Heavy footsteps passed by the Headquarters, followed by Aunt Mathilda's muttering to herself.
The two investigators listened until the footsteps subsided and let out a deep sigh.
Bob fidgeted with his shirt button. Jupiter stared at the file cabinet and drummed his fingers on the table.
"I should, uh," Bob finally said. "Go home for supper now. We can continue this another day?"
"Continue...?" Jupiter's eyes widened.
Bob realized. "I mean the paper. The Austen essay. We're almost finished with it."
"Of course," Jupiter said quickly. Cheeks pink from whatever he thought Bob meant. "Naturally. We need to practice the presentation as well."
"Right," Bob said, gathering his items and standing up. Jupiter did the same thing.
They went out of the Headquarters through Easy Three, after being sure that no one was watching. Their shoulders brushed slightly as they walked through Jupiter's workshop and out to the yard. Blackbeard was sleeping in its cage, unaware of the whole roller-coaster that had just happened.
The sun was setting, painting the sky with a beautiful hue of orange over the lively blue. Jupiter remembered how he'd described Bob's eyes—like the summer sky. He gazed at his companion, who was observing the sky with a faraway look in his eyes. Under the golden ray, Bob looked really good. Jupiter's heart skipped a beat again, causing him to be angry at himself for all this nonsense.
Bob got onto his bicycle. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Same time?"
"Sounds good," Jupiter said quietly, looking at the ground. He thought Bob would just leave like usual. But he saw that the bicycle wasn't moving.
"Jupiter. Look at me."
That caught him off guard. Jupiter looked up, eyes meeting Bob's. It was as if a new wave of clarity hit him, when Bob's gaze seemed to calm all the turmoil in his heart. At that moment, Bob's expression answered everything.
Bob smiled softly. "See you tomorrow."
Jupiter nodded. "…Yes."
Bob rode his bicycle out of the yard, and Jupiter watched his back as he left.
Sometimes words could wait.
They both knew that this might be the start of something new between them.
Between them.