bakerstreet | Wrapped up in you

[Info on journal. Perne is certainly more likely to be the prickly one, so it would be amusing to have her be sweet and endearing toward another. Can also very much play the other side getting the special treatment, too.]

[ It sort of figures that on the first day off he's had in over a week, he's got beta business to attend to. Not that he minds, of course; after all that they've been through, and all Keegan has forgiven, when the man says jump the only thing Jay will ask is how high. But still, he was sort of looking forward to kicking up his feet in his flat and avoiding the world and all that lived in it for a full twenty-four hours. But Keegan needed a favor, so. Here he is.

In retrospect the task itself should have raised some red flags. Could you drop off this package for me? It seemed innocuous enough, but the location was very specific. Someone from the oighreachd was going to pick it up, he'd said. They'd meet him at the park, on the bench by the boat dock by the pond, near the ice cream shop, at 4:00. It was roundly suspicious, really. He should have questioned it — but it was Keegan. The man didn't have a conniving bone in his body.

At least, so he'd thought. Now, as he sits here on the bench with phone in hand, looking up just in time to meet eyes with an equally confused looking Eliot, he is realizing he may have seriously underestimated his alpha. He stares. ]

...You've got to be kidding me.

[ Normally, Eliot has quite a good sense of these things. Keegan had been so concerned, however, that he hardly questioned it when his husband begged Eliot to drop off the letter specifically at this place. Doing so anywhere else would mean that it wouldn't be delivered in time, he'd earnestly said. The sidhe bought it hook, line, and sinker.

Nose wrinkling, El looks up and down the path with a sigh. ]

... There isn't actually a post box here, is there?

Does it look like there's a post box here?

[ Duped, fully and utterly, he leans back into the bench with a groan, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Good God, he couldn't even remember when he'd last been suckered so easily. Without uncovering his eyes, he gestures to the box beside him. ]

He told me someone from the clan was going to pick this up. Which I am now very sure they aren't.

[ It's not an empty box, though; it certainly has weight. Dragging his hand down his face, he peers at the package with a suspicious frown before finally pulling it over and peeling the tape off to open it up. Inside he finds half a loaf of wheat bread, and a zip-lock bag of what looks to be barley and halved grapes. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he looks to Eliot, and then to the letter in his hand. ]

[ Eliot rolls his eyes before sitting down on the bench next to the lycan, the opened box carefully placed between them. He does miss the warmth of the other man's skin, if he's honest with himself, but... he tries very hard to be anything but honest when Jayprakash is involved. Neither of them has made the attempt to reconnect, to find where they stand after... everything, and it's better that way. El has spent the better part of three months reminding himself of that.

Opening the letter, his eyes skim over his husband's handwriting, eyebrows rising progressively higher as he reaches the end of the letter. By the end, all he can do is hold it out to Jay with disbelief, stunned speechless by the letter's contents. ]

...Well.

[ The longer Eliot takes to read, the more concerning it gets. The silence only worsens the matter; when the sidhe is at a loss for words, the situation is very grave indeed. Frowning, he takes the letter and reads it aloud. ]

"Dear Eliot and Jay, sorry to have to trick you but it was the only way to get you two doofuses together without you both digging your heels in about it. I know you two have been avoiding each other because you feel like it's the right thing to do — but I think it's important you reconnect properly after everything that happened. I think—"

[ He pauses, staring at the words. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he continues: ]

..."I think the world of both of you. And I have absolute faith in your dedication to our pack, our relationship, and our happiness. But pretending you don't have feelings for each other is just plain silly. Which is why I had to get you two out on this date."

[ Again he looks to Eliot, incredulous, before finishing the letter. ]

"I've made a reservation at Berners Tavern for 6:00, which is listen on VisitLondon.com as one of the best places to have dinner on a first date. Since you have 2 hours to kill, I've packed some snacks for you to feed the ducks. Apparently white bread is bad for them but wheat is okay, and barley and grapes are their favorites, so I packed those too. You should also get ice cream and go for a walk and talk a lot. I expect you to tell me all about your date when you get home, Eliot. Jay, you can even have a sleepover if you want, though you don't have to. Have a great time and send me lots of cute pictures. I love you both very much. Love, Keegan. P.S., if you try to get out of it I'll be really, really sad. So have fun."

[ He lowers the letter, equally stunned. The resounding silence that follows is finally broken when Jay asks: ]

Did he just end that with a guilt trip?

[ He glances the other man sidelong as he reads the letter, fingers tapping the arm of the park bench apprehensively. Well-meaning though the gesture may be, surely... It just isn't like Jayprakash to be pushed into something he doesn't want to do. Committing murder should have been proof enough of that. And "going on a date with my alpha's husband" definitely... seems like something he wouldn't want to do.

He smiles too quickly at the other man's disbelief, laughing lightly as he adds: ]

He isn't even trying to pretend otherwise, is he?

[ A beat. This should be something Eliot doesn't want, either. He clears his throat in an attempt to disperse any awkwardness. It doesn't work. ]

Keegan should know better than to set himself up for disappointment.

[ There really is no making this not awkward, is there? Exhaling through his nose, he folds the letter back up again, shaking his head. ]

He's a hell of a lot more bull-headed than he likes to let on.

[ Uncomfortable, he sets his eyes forward, not quite able to glance in Eliot's direction. He's both grateful and resentful for the box that sits between them, aching for the man's skin no less now than he has in the last few weeks. It's that ache that helped get them in trouble, isn't it? Which is why he's continued to resist it, even after being given his alpha's reassurance several times that he understands it. Approves of it, even. But Jay doesn't want this. Shouldn't want this. Had very much hoped he'd never want this again, that he'd realize when all the misery was over that he'd just been caught up in the whirlwind of tragedy and high emotions and nothing more.

But he still dreams of Eliot at night. And now that the man can finally smile again, that ache has only grown stronger, become a deep and endless fondness that weighs on him like an iron ball.

Realizing that he's been quiet for some time, leg bouncing restlessly with anxiety, he draws in a breath. Not far off, a gaggle of ducks makes their way into the pond. His lips purse together. ]

I... guess it would be pretty inconsiderate of us not to humor his little setup. He only presses this hard when something really matters to him. And it seems a shame not to take advantage of the weather.

[ He pauses, then adds with some discomfort: ]

If... If you're amenable, that is.

Yeah?

[ The smile he graces Jay with now is a great deal more hopeful than he means it to be. It shouldn't be, but Eliot has a longstanding difficulty denying himself the things he wants. He'd managed to thus far only by avoiding the other man almost entirely, but the crumpling of Jay's resolve seems to affect his own as well. ]

I mean, yeah, of course. Like you said, it's a sunny day in London. It would be a shame not to. And, um. I hear that Berners Tavern is quite good, as well, though I haven't been myself...

[ God damn that smile. He glances over without meaning to, taking it in and feeling himself crumple under it. It will be very inconvenient indeed if Eliot ever realizes just how susceptible he is to such a genuine, heartfelt expression. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away when he realizes his own smile has crept up on him, small and impossibly fond. ]

I'm not much for restaurants, but... Keegan did his research, obviously. So I'm sure it's something we'll like.

[ Fuck all, this has him much more off-kilter than he likes to be. He pushes his hair back from his face, reaching into the box to take out the bag of wheat bread. Despite himself, he huffs out a laugh. ]

Can you imagine how long he sat huddled over his laptop, sixteen tabs open about the best things to throw at ducks?

[ He covers his eyes with his hands, groaning loudly. ]

I absolutely can, and I'll bet you a tenner that he has a notebook page full of things he gathered from internet forums about ducks. It's like the guinea pigs all over again--which I still haven't forgiven you for. I've lost an entire office to them! Not my office, of course, but an office!

[ Jay scoffs, his raised eyebrows devoid of sympathy. ]

You've got three bedrooms and two offices; I'm sure somehow you'll recover from the devastating loss. And last I checked, I got him the first one because somebody suggested he'd take to it. You've only yourself to blame for that Instagram account of his. Which he quizzes me on to make sure I've kept up with, by the way. So thanks for that.

[ And then, with more wicked amusement, he adds: ]

Though for somebody who so clearly dislikes them, he's sure sent me an awful lot of candid photos of you with the little bastards on your lap while you play Candy Crush or some nonsense.

[ His nose wrinkles again. That's a low blow, sir. ]

He'll never get rid of the grubby little monsters if they aren't socialized. I'm being practical!

Yes, I'm sure that's exactly what it is.

[ Standing up, he picks up the box, tossing the bag of barley and grapes to his date with a smirk. ]

Come on then; we've got some ducks to feed. I'm sure Keegan is dying for photos already.

[ Eliot catches the bag against his torso, standing with him a moment later. ]

If there are any ducks are left to feed. I knew a lake maiden living near here who called the ducklings "pond popcorn."

[ Which is a story he has absolutely not shared with Keegan. ]

[ The lycan snorts out a chuckle, raising his eyebrows. ]

Well, she can't snack on all of them; got to leave enough to keep the supply going. That's just proper animal husbandry.

[ As they stand a little too close to one another, Jay feels himself begin to tense with unease. He resolves this by gently bumping their shoulders together. The small gesture mellows some of the anxiety that pulls at the muscles in his back. He offers a lopsided smile, then leads them on to the nearby bridge.

Beneath them, the gaggle of ducks has immediately begun to congregate; they know well what provides easy meals. Jay opens his bag, tearing a few bits from a slice of bread and tossing them over the railing as he leans against it. He purses his lips, peering at his date from the corner of his eye. ]

...New cologne?

[ The simple bumping of shoulders awakens the want for the other man's skin -- not necessarily in a carnal way, just a need to feel the warmth of his skin and the spark that happens when two people touch. Leaning over the side of the bridge, he closes the gap between them until they're lined shoulder-to-shoulder. ]

I thought I'd try something different.

[ A month ago, but he doesn't say that. ]

...And you? Is there anything new, I mean.

Mmm.

[ It's a nice smell. He does enjoy it. But he likes Eliot's smell better. The thought distracts him long enough that he doesn't notice the Kindred moving closer until their shoulders press together, giving him the barest of starts. At first he's stiff, unsure of something that was so forbidden before — but slowly he relaxes, so much so that he leans into the contact like an old street dog starved for affection. He huffs a breath. ]

Just the usual litany of nonsense. A&E is a regular adventure, I continue to act as mob doctor to the Weird, and my parents—

[ Ugh. The memory bubbles up all at once of the preceding weekend, his forehead thumping down onto his folded arms against the bridge railing. After a muffled noise of irritation, he continues: ]

Apparently, having an unwed son of 35 is my mother's official trigger into matrimonial madness. Which is ridiculous, given that Ritu's been married five years now and has already given them their oh-so-necessary grandchild, but somehow because I'm oldest that means I'm shirking my responsibility by not knocking up some sweet-tempered Bangladeshi girl after meeting her exactly once before her family goes into lifelong debt paying for a wedding that rivals a Bollywood budget.

[ He pauses, making a face. That was... a bit more than he was planning to spill out. He sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. ]

...Sorry. Monthly dinner was last weekend. Mum "just so happened" [ He does in fact provide finger quotes for this ] to bump into an old friend on the way who does matchmaking. So... Yeah. Great time.

[ Eliot smiles broadly, as he often does whenever Jay would vent about his family. His parents, rather. Not that El isn't sympathetic, it's only... so normal. Which, don't get him wrong-- he lives in the weird, revels in it. But the window into something outside of it is nice, too. ]

Didn't you know? Your mother leads a charmed life. If I didn't know better, I'd think she made a deal with one of us, in fact. Didn't she say the same thing about meeting the last girl she set you up with? What ever happened there?

[ As if he doesn't fucking know. ]

[ He groans, tilting his head to give Eliot a dirty look over his arm. ]

Really? We're going to bring that dinner up? The blind date ambush?

[ God, what a nightmare that was. His mother had truly crossed a line that night — and worst yet, had even managed to get his father on board with the matter. At least before they'd kept in their lanes: she harangued about finding a girl to settle down with, and he passive-aggressively trashed his professional life choices until it drove Jay out of the house. Now it was a goddamned free-for-all. ]

Bloody ridiculous, it is. You'd think they'd have better things to do. Grandparenting to focus on, and the like. But no: somehow they take it upon themselves in their busy lives to make time to drive me mad.

[ With a long, drawn-out sigh, he works his fingers roughly back through his hair. After a moment he glances over his arm at Eliot, brow furrowing. ]

...I haven't ever shown you a picture of my family, I don't think.

[ He hesitates. ]

Would you... like to see?

Yeah?

[ He blinks, gaping at the offer. Not a moment later, however, something wry and sweet twists at his mouth, as Eliot has the decency to look slightly abashed. ]

Christ. I mean, of course I would. It'll be nice finally having faces to put to names. You have some of your nephew, too, don't you?

[ He feels a mite self-conscious for some reason, though he's not sure why. That sweet little smile helps ease the discomfort as he huffs out a laugh, pulling his phone from his pocket. ]

"Some," yeah. More like half my memory's eaten up by Ritu spamming me with his face all the time.

[ Which he doesn't sound nearly as sour about as he tries to; Liam's a damn cute baby, he'll admit, and it's nice to see his sister gush about him. Her happiness has gotten him through some hard times. Bringing up his gallery, he flips through a few photos before finally pulling up a photo of an older couple that are presumably his parents. Looking to be in their mid to late fifties, they're exactly what one might expect. His father doesn't look nearly so tall as Jay is, but he seems a stoic and dignified man with graying hair and a full beard. Though softer around the middle, one gets the feeling he was quite a handsome fellow at Jay's age. His mother wears a brilliant smile that seems to sparkle in her eyes, dark hair worn loosely back, all high cheekbones and dark skin. ]

I don't have many of my parents; my father's a bit of a pain to get a photo of, as you can imagine. This was at Ritu's birthday which was the only reason he allowed it.

[ Moving to the next photo brings up a young and lovely woman with the sort of smile that screams trouble. Looking to be only a few inches shorter than Jay, Ritu has her mother's cheekbones and her father's jawline, sharing a similar structure to her nose as Jay. On her lap sits a chubby mess of an infant, his face smeared with cake. Jay sighs, then proceeds to bring up a good dozen or so photos of his nephew. ]

Seriously, she sends me at least two every day. It's absurd.

[ To be fair, the baby is pretty damned cute, all smiles and bright eyes. The fondness in Jay's voice is impossible to miss. ]

My brother-in-law does the stay at home dad business while she works. She just started up her own practice, actually. Been doing pretty well, I hear. Which is why I get the focus of dad's ire re: giving up on being a surgeon to instead help extract random objects out of people's arses while they look me in the eye and tell me they fell on it.

[ He considers pointing out that it wouldn't take up half his memory if he didn't save every photo to his phone, but, well, he has the excuse to get a little closer to the taller man, ostensibly to look more closely at the photos, and it'd be a shame to let that go to waste. ]

Who's to say you wouldn't be doing that in surgery? The only difference being that there, it would be cancer you'd extract rather than, say, a race car. If you ask me, race cars are more fun.

[ Not that he ever convinced someone to stick a race car up their bum. ]

[ For being the Winter Lord, Eliot can be remarkably warm. The warmth he gives off is reassuring, easing a tension in his shoulders he hadn't realized was there. Close as he is, Jay can smell his actual scent beneath the cologne. It's very difficult not to kiss him. Instead he snorts out through his nose, raising an eyebrow at the other man. ]

That is a very specific example and I want exactly zero further details on it.

[ It wouldn't be so bad, would it? This is a date, after all. Keegan specifically called it that. Hesitating only a moment, he leans in and brushes his lips against Eliot's temple in a ghost of a kiss before straightening. ]

Don't forget to throw your grape-barley at the freeloaders. I can wager with absolute certainty that Keegan'll ask how they liked it.

Fuck 'em.

[ Give him an inch, and he'll take a mile. Or a kiss, in this case, his arm curling around the lycan's lower back as he leans up to press his mouth against the other man's, teeth grazing his lower lip as he demands entry. ]

[ You'd think after a year and a half of this troublemaker in his life he'd be more prepared for the man's impulses — and under normal circumstances, he very much is. Circumstances that do not involve a date. And kissing. And rapid escalation. Which is why he's caught totally off guard by the arm around him, the only warning he gets before cool lips capture his own. Surprise only lasts so long before months of want take over, tamping down public decency to see his lips parting to invite Eliot's tongue into his mouth, one arm wrapping around the smaller man while the other braces against the railing to better push the sidhe back into it. His hand slides up to allow his fingers to tangle into those blond locks of hair he's ached to touch, soon dominating the kiss to delve his tongue into Eliot's mouth. The taste of him is dizzying.

A cleared throat gives Jay a start, and he breaks the kiss to stand sharply upright. An older couple, wearing a hearty dose of judgement, apparently does not appreciate them blocking the path; with an awkward apology the lycan pushes himself back beside Eliot so they can pass. It's only when they've made it off the bridge that Jay works his fingers back through his hair and exhales, giving his companion a sidelong glance. ]

We are in public.

[ He attempts to use his indigence to mask the fact that he is clearly flustered and out of breath. It's not very successful. ]

[ His eyebrows rise, mischief playing at his lips. Flustered and indignant is a good look for the older man. ]

That's half the fun, isn't it?

[ Reaching out, he tugs Jay's arm, pulling him back over to press him against the railing. It isn't as though they haven't had their share of intimate moments; some would say they were even more intimate than kissing. But they were never in public, always shamefully hidden away, with self-loathing in such abundance that he nearly choked on it. It's... difficult to let go of that feeling, as much as he hates to admit it. He leans up, kissing the other man again, gently -- perhaps in small part to spite it. ]

[ Though he huffs a breath in complaint, he's unresistant to being manhandled, allowing himself to be adjusted at Eliot's leisure. His thoughts are much the same as he wrestles with those old wounds of disgust with himself, his desires, his deceitful feelings that could have cost them everything; he's unconvinced they'll ever really go away. This all feels too good to be true, really. He's not a man that feels anything but unease for when life appears to be going well for too long. And this is... more than he deserves. Eliot is more than he deserves.

But Keegan forgave him. Wants this for him. He'd like to pretend for as long as he can that that's enough.

Despite his discomfiture, Jay can't help but accept the kiss, wrapping his arms around Eliot's waist to lace his fingers together at the small of his back. Not for the first time he thinks about how well their bodies fit together. After a moment he draws his lips back, though he keeps their foreheads resting against once another. ]

You are, as always, a goddamned problem.

[ And then, in a tone that is quieter and far more vulnerable than he'd normally dare to reveal, he adds: ]

This still seems a bit mad, being like this.

[ Eliot chuffs out a laugh, dry and warm. ]

Agreed. A bit like getting away with murder, isn't it?

[ As Jay's arms wrap around him, Eliot leans into the other man, tension slowly leaving his body. Grasping the other man's shoulders, he breathes out, letting himself feel small in his arms. ]

I... I'm sorry, for everything I put you through. The position I put you in.

[ Jay blinks down at him, surprised. ]

What you put—?

[ His brows draw together, fingers tightening into the fabric of Eliot's shirt at his back. ]

Eliot, you didn't... Do you really think that?

[ But then again, is it really a surprise? Jay is no different. Eliot was lonely when his husband was away, aching for affection he'd grown accustomed to; Jay never felt as though he hadn't taken advantage of that. And after the trauma he was put through, the things Isaac did — of course he would need to feel whole and loved. Jay could have kept things platonic, but he didn't. He wasn't the one suffering. He was just the one who stood to benefit from the suffering of the man he wanted. His arms tuck a little tighter around the sidhe as he swallows thickly. ]

Nothing you did went against what I... what I wanted. What I chose to do. I made those choices knowing full well what they meant for me.

[ Just as he'd known what it meant to tell his raging, broken alpha what he'd done immediately after stealing his kill. It's undeniable that, if Eliot hadn't stepped in, he would be dead. He rests his cheek against the man's temple. ]

I... never thanked you, I realize. For saving my life. It spared Keegan a path he didn't deserve to be sent on.

[ Which, to him, matters more than him not being beaten to death. Because despite how things have gone, he still isn't entirely sure he didn't deserve to die that day. ]

[ Brow similarly drawn, he leans against the other man's collarbone. ]

I couldn't very well let you die. What it would have done to Keegan aside, you deserve better than that.

[ His lips thin as he hesitates. ]

Christ, Florence. I should be the one to thank you. You've saved my life how many times, now? Earlier that day, even. And then you went on trial for the death of the one who...

You've done so much for me.

[ A little huff of breath escapes him. Florence. An irksome nickname, originally given to rankle him; now, after the tension of these last few months, hearing Eliot finally use it again gives him a rush of unexpected relief. His head turns to allow him to bury his face into Eliot's hair. ]

Nothing more than you deserve. I wish I could have done more.

[ If only he'd listened to his gut about Isaac... but he's been down that road dozens of times. He knows better than to follow it; there's no victory in the place it leads. His arms tighten around the kindred's waist. It's utterly mad, thinking about where they started — the disgust and loathing he harbored for the spoiled son of a monster — to the now, where he counts his limited blessings just to hold this man in his arms for even a moment. He closes his eyes. ]

...You know, I think it was the day I gave you my key that I knew I was in trouble.

Hm. Clearly an oversight on your part, seeing as I don't need it to get in your flat.

[ The smile he presses into the other man's shoulder, however, gives him away. ]

[ He chuckles against Eliot's hair, kneading at his lower back with affection. ]

No. But giving it to you meant I wanted you there.

[ Which, at the time, he refused to think of that way. He was just being helpful, that's all; looking out for a man that was trying to do things right for a change. It was grudging, he said, and not hopeful in the way he now knew it to be. Leaning back, he brings a hand up to brush Eliot's hair back before cupping his cheek, stroking it with his thumb. ]

I don't— I know that we've had a great deal happen since we've known each other, and high stress situations can certainly make feelings that might normally be lukewarm seem far more intense, so things tend to fall flat once the world's stopped going pear-shaped, but I—

[ —still love you, is what he wants to say, but he can't. He's afraid to. What if it's just him? What if Keegan withdraws his support and a weight like that is left between them all over again? What if it doesn't work out? So instead he bites his lip, side-stepping as much as he can while still seeking what he needs to know. ]

Is it all right if I still... If I care about you just as much as I'd done before?

I certainly hope so. Contrary to popular belief, I don't go about snogging just anyone these days.

[ Reaching up to hold Jay's wrist, he gently presses a kiss against the man's palm. ]

My feelings haven't changed, either. Not to say I didn't give it my damnedest. For some time, actually. Giving you up just never seemed to take.

[ God, he feels ridiculous, but his heart nearly skips a beat. It's been years since he felt like this, and even then it was moments of infatuation or obsession that burned away in a matter of months or weeks. Now, he finds himself giddy like he hasn't been since he was younger than Keegan, his smile wide and lopsided. ]

Well, I'd... I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed. Especially now, with Keegan just...

[ He huffs out a breath, resting his forehead against Eliot's, still in a bit of a daze from... everything, really. This. What he's been forgiven for. What he's been given. His alpha was within his right to see him banished at best and killed at worst; not only did he accept Jay back into his pack with open arms, he then gave him the one thing in the world he didn't deserve to have. ]

He's too good for us.

[ Reaching between them, he takes the bag of barley and grapes from Eliot, leaning down enough to graze his teeth against the curve of the sidhe's ear as he draws away. ]

Which is why we need to feed these damned ducks and send him a picture of some ducklings for good measure.

Ugh!

[ Dramatically, he turns and throws himself against the railing. Just when they were getting to the good part. It hides the equally giddy smile Eliot wears. Keegan is too good for them. Are they a them? It's only a first bloody date, but... well, he thinks he would like it to lead to another.

Still, it wouldn't do to seem too amenable. Eliot's nose wrinkles at the pond popcorn below. ]

Didn't National Geographic already take care of all that? Do an image search. He wouldn't know the difference.

[ Jay rolls his eyes, opening up the bag and tossing a small handful of the mix into the water. A gaggle of ducks immediately bum rush the floating bits, head-butting one another with furious quacking while vying for supremacy. ]

See, if you did that, you'd not only be an asshole, but you'd be missing out on a bunch of ducks trying to murder each other.

[ One duck does indeed peck the ever-loving crap out of another, shortly before chasing it clear across the pond. Jay takes out his phone and snaps a photo of the less violent gaggle, making sure to include a couple ducklings in the mix. After examining it for quality, he sends the photo off in a text, trying to ignore the nagging discomfort that rises after. Keegan asked for this, but does he know what he's getting into? Was it a test, maybe, and they've failed it by going along? Pursing his lips, he goes to stuff his phone back into his pocket — but it buzzes just as he tucks it away. Furrowing his brows, he pulls it back out, pulling up the text he received. And staring. After a moment, he tilts it to show to Eliot. ]

OMG SO CUTE ❤️❤️❤️ and ducklings!! ty i love it!!! now send me a pic of you 2 before you get back to your ddate

[ He props his chin on the heel of his hand, watching the ducks down below. Jay isn't wrong about the whole gaggle going battle royale over the grapes. Plucking a few more grapes from the bag, he tosses them at the murder ducks, giggling at the eruption of squawking that follows. It's only when the other man holds out his phone that he looks away from the chaos he's sown, mouth twisting wryly in response to the message. ]

What did I tell you? It's practically a gateway drug. Send him one picture, and before you know it, he wants the hard stuff.

[ Keegan isn't one to play games (unlike El), so he isn't worried about the other man testing the two of them, or any other such nonsense. Getting in over his head and stubbornly not saying anything about it, however? Would be classic Keegan.

With this in mind, he takes out his own phone and holds it out to take a picture, pulling Jay in close for a pose that one might with a very good friend, but isn't terribly romantic. ]

[ A bit of shuffling is required before the picture is taken. Jay doesn't quite know where to put his hands. At first his arm goes around Eliot's waist, then awkwardly retracts to move up instead, then drops entirely. He is equally concerned that Keegan will find himself fine with his mischievous little set-up up until he's faced with what it really means. Jay's already ruined so much; he doesn't want to add to the pile. Tense with a forced smile, he endures through the snap of the photo before straightening up with a sigh. ]

That should be enough to sate him for now, yeah?

[ And for a moment, Keegan doesn't reply. Unseen by the both of them, Keegan is curled in his chair, looking over his phone fondly. To be honest, he was pretty sure he was okay, but there was a nagging fear that perhaps he'd cave when he saw them — and yet all he feels when he looks at them is an overwhelming affection. He can see the tension easily in Jay's face, the way he hunches awkwardly and tries to find just the right amount of distance between himself and Eliot to maintain something respectable. His husband is more subtle. There's a casual disinterest there, a relaxation that belies the hint of worry he carries. Warmth spreads in Keegan's chest at the sight of it.

He loves his husband so very much.

A moment later, Eliot's phone pings. ]

ok now kiss!!

[ A second ping as a follow-up text comes, this one just for Eliot: ]

its alright. I'm ok! I'm happy and I want to see how happy you are too.

Wrapped up in you

kylo b̶e̶n̶ ̶s̶o̶l̶o̶ ren. STAR☆WARS. ota

Lio Fotia | Promare | M/M

Perne Archevauliere | FFXIV Non-WoL OC

Jyn Erso | Rogue One | OTA

Agent South Dakota | Red vs Blue | OTA

Cassia Andor | Rogue One | OTA

kogami shinya | psycho pass

OC

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