15. And there were... Two beds?

Summary: And there were- Two beds...? A spin on the one bed trope with mildly OOC fluff and all that.

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Reverse tropes got me thinking on something tihihi

The ao3 curse™ got to me and I went through traumatic event™ while writing this so it's a liiiittle messy, mb chat

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They had only paid a night in advance, which concerned the staff after about a week. Upon finding out that the two had gambled the majority of their money and were essentially squating in the room; they were immediately kicked out. Now, in the early morning, they were checking into the next best motel. With the last of their cash scraped together, they booked two nights ahead. Dave made the reservation as Jack hoisted their bags, which contained more liquor than clothing, up the stairs.

Their room was on the second floor, nearly all the way to the back. Dave followed him with a key in hand, unlocking the door for him. Jack stepped inside and threw their bags to the floor, looking around the room. Much to his surprise, and in contrast to their last room; there were two beds. He glanced towards Dave, who was typically in charge of choosing the layout of their rooms, which had always been a single bed up until now.

He couldn't imagine Dave had gotten tired of him, if the past week was anything to go by. There was hardly a night where they wouldn't end up in each other's arms, mumbling soft conversation until either fell asleep. Jack hadn't realized how accustomed he'd become to it until he saw the separate beds. Maybe it was the only one available, he considered, because it was statistically impossible for all the previous times they shared a bed to have been coincidental. Dave's posture didn't give him anything to work with either, grabbing one of their bags to throw it on the bed closest by and zipping it open.

Attempting to shake the thought, Jack followed and grabbed the other bag they'd brought. Not that it mattered much, though; they hadn't taken clothing on their trip and anything they bought was shared between them. Matter of fact, he was almost certain that he was wearing one of Dave's shirts as of this moment; it was just a little too long on him and had the smell of Dave's fragrance to it. He'd become concerningly attached to his companion, Jack thought to himself while he retrieved a bottle of corner store whiskey and vodka from his bag. Then again, how could he not with the sweet things Dave muttered to him in the smaller hours of the day, when he thought Jack was asleep.

He'd gotten really good at that; pretending to sleep while he listened to the things Dave whispered to him under the presumption that he couldn't hear. Their mutual conversations already had a tendency to take a sweeter turn when both were exhausted, but he'd never presumed that Dave had such adoration in his soul. The only reason he hadn't said anything about it yet was because he feared for the consequences, specifically the scenario in which Dave stopped doing so. Because while, yes; it was conflicting sometimes; it was also the most love he'd ever experienced. He just wished he could say something in return, rather than listen with a flushed face. At that moment, the thought raised within him: what if Dave had somehow figured he was faking, and that was the reason?

"Hey-"

The idea was so worrisome to him, that he finally felt inclined to ask. He hated to admit it, but he liked being showered with affection for once in his life, especially after having convinced himself he was unlovable for years.

"-What's with the beds?"

He continued unpacking his designated bag, trying his hardest to appear casual despite feeling Dave's gaze land on him.

"What's with them, old sport?"

Dave narrowed his eyes at him, genuinely enquiring. What Jack didn't know was that Dave was entirely oblivious to his game of play pretend, and didn't suspect a thing in regards to Jack's possible feelings towards him, whatever those even were to begin with. Jack shrugged his shoulders, running out of things for his eyes to land on, instead meeting Dave's gaze.

"There's two."

He concluded, gesturing to the two single beds in their room, separated by a shared nightstand in between them.

"Why yes, old sport, very observant of you!"

Jack couldn't tell if the man's enthusiastic tone was genuine or sarcastic, and he responded almost immediately:

"Why?"

Dave swallowed, and in the brief second of silence he saw some underlying emotion that spoke vaguely of disappointment.

"Well- Yes, why not? You said I was an uneasy sleeper..."

Now it was Jack's turn to stand there with a confused expression, narrowing his eyes deep in thought. They drank and smoked so much that the majority of memories became a blur, but he made a realization just before he was about to inquire Dave again. Just this morning, when he'd woken up to him sitting on the edge of their bed, he had joked that Dave slept restlessly. It was a response to him stating that he still felt exhausted after waking up, which made sense to Jack when he took in account that Dave could toss and turn as if his soul was always awake.

To Dave, however, this had felt more like a rejection than a joke. He was clingy, he did have some self awareness in that regard, but Jack never pushed back. Always having thought that Jack was fond of the affection; the mere suggestion that he was bothersome was enough to crack his worldview. He wasn't going to address it, he barely knew how to if he tried, so this was his next resort. If Jack didn't like them being in bed together, then he would arrange for something different. It was the disappointed tone in Jack's voice which had taken him by surprise:

"Oh, I- That was meant to be a joke, you sleep fine-"

Dave internally cursed himself for not having picked up on that, assuming it more than likely had to do with the fact he'd barely been awake when Jack said that to him. He never slept for long, especially not when he could study Jack's features while he slept. He kept discovering new things each time; it was hard to stop. Just as he considered proposing to shove their beds together, Jack snapped him from his thoughts:

"Oh well, whatever- You wanna have a smoke and drink on the balcony before we hit the sack? Nothin' open at this hour anyway..."

Jack proposed, trying his hardest to hide his disappointment and distract both of them from the subject. Dave's eyes followed his finger, which pointed to a small balcony which he'd hardly registered. They would've been asleep if it wasn't for them having been kicked out of their previous motel, where they shared a bed, might he add.

Both tried to shake the thoughts; it shouldn't matter if friends slept separate, that was usually the norm anyway. Then again, their dynamic couldn't be defined as simply friendship, and they were hardly normal. Dave really wished he'd picked up on the sarcasm in Jack's voice that morning, watching him search for two glasses to pour. Failing to do so, he simply took the bottle of whiskey from their bed and headed for the balcony, Dave following suit.

It was small and had no furniture, barely big enough to harbor the two of them as they sat on the ground. Jack's shoulder was pressed against his from the lack of space, Dave tried not to pay it any mind as he shakily brought a cigarette to his lips. Jack held out a hand and was given the pack, passing the bottle to Dave in exchange. They resorted to silence to smoke their cigarettes, staring at the scenery. There was nothing interesting to see through the bars of their railing, but they were really only interested in each other anyway.

"I'll miss you, tonight-"

Jack spoke, softer than he'd wished and therefore diverting from his lighthearted intention. He nudged Dave's side, keeping his gaze fixed ahead of him. In response; he barked a nervous laugh to hide the fact he'd choked on smoke at his words, which were unusually genuine for Jack's doing. Despite his instinctual comedic reflex, his words were equally as genuine when he responded:

"Yeah-? How so sportsy?"

Jack took a swig from the whiskey, cringing at the harsh aftertaste as he felt Dave shift against him. This was awfully romantic, he thought to himself as he responded:

"I dunno, I just-"

He shrugged. Addressing things was complicated, especially if your dynamic thrived on deflective humor and lack of communication.

"I've gotten used to cuddling with you, I guess."

If Dave had a heart, it would've skipped a beat. Despite the frequency of their physical contact, they had a mutual agreement not to discuss it. It was especially odd for the otherwise stoic Jack to have been the one to insinuate it.

"Really-?"

Dave blurted, a genuine expression on his face and a falter in his voice. He looked so ridiculously touched that it was Jack laugh,shifting his tone to make the conversation more lighthearted:

"Yeah, I mean; you're lanky and boney, but you're warm-"

He was now leaning against Dave entirely, resting his head on the other's shoulder. The cigarette in Dave's hand was burning up, too afraid to move in fear of Jack possibly retreating. The idea of being wanted was foreign to Dave; all he'd ever done was try to make himself wanted, but now that he'd gotten a taste he could only crave more.

"Really old sport, that's the only reason~?"

He was digging for more; Jack knew, and he knew exactly how to corner Dave as he responded anyway:

"Maybe I like the way you talk to me, when you think I'm sleeping~?"

Said Jack, with the same playful tone Dave'd spoken with seconds earlier. He turned to him, exhaling smoke between them, watching Dave's face go pale.

"Wha- I dunno what you're talking about, old sport-"

He'd always been bad at lying to the people close to him. To authorities, cops, and whatnot, was never a problem, but to his old sport?

"Oh, come on Dave-"

It was just that his tone was always unsure, because he felt as though his dishonesty was a betrayal towards someone already dear to him. He felt as though family shouldn't lie to family; Henry had taught him that very early on.

"Oh, my oldest sport-!"

Jack continued, ensuring he sounded as dramatic as possible as he lay a hand over his heart.

"I'd give ya' the world, no, the universe! If I only could- How lucky am I to have landed a beauty like yourself-?"

Jack said, poorly imitating Dave's accent as he repeated his words from the day before Back to him. He was really adding to the dramatic effect, horribly exaggerating all the while he kept his head on Dave's shoulder. Having found out Jack heard everything he said to him was embarrassing enough, but this really got under Dave's skin by the looks of it. He pleaded for Jack to shut up and forget all about it, but all he got in response was Jack repeating his own words back to him. At least he didn't look or sound bothered by it, Dave briefly thought to himself as he lay a hand over Jack's mouth.

"That's enough, old sport-"

He hissed through gritted teeth, and Jack almost would've thought he was angry if it wasn't for the deep shade of purple that coated his cheeks. He smiled from under Dave's palm, a cocky look towards him as he pressed the bottle of whiskey to the man's chest. Reluctantly, he removed his hand and sat back in his original spot, taking the liquor and allowing Jack to lean back against him. No matter how much he pretended not to; he enjoyed the rare moments where Jack showed his playful, teasing, side.

"Why? You can say those things to me while I'm awake, you know."

Maybe it was the alcohol getting to Jack, but he sounded more playful than usual. Or maybe it was getting to Dave instead, and he was imagining it. He swallowed nervously, trying to comprehend what exactly Jack must have heard, recalling all the things he said at once.

"Oh, old sport- What would I even say?"

He asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing horribly so. Jack smirked, oblivious to the deep blush on Dave's face as he stared ahead of him. He'd gotten so accustomed to Dave's behavior that he no longer felt intimidated by it, and instead enjoyed the playful ambiguity of their relationship.

"You talk about wanting to kiss me, a lot, you could always start there."

Dave stood up promptly, whiskey dangerously close to spilling out of the bottleneck. Jack stumbled to his side where he had previously leaned against Dave, stifling a laugh as he looked up at Dave. Those words were the things he only said when he was approaching exhaustion himself, and he was amazed that Jack had managed to pretend that deep into the night.

"I- You, I- I don't want to do that, you just- You have nice lips-!"

He concluded, stammering over his words as he headed back inside their room. Jack simply chuckled, watching Dave's mannerisms lose their confidence. He briefly considered he was going too quickly for Dave, but the flushed look on his face was worth it every time and it really were the consequences of his own actions. In a sense, Jack enjoyed suddenly making sharp comments, catching Dave off guard only to penetrate his mechanism of deflective humor for a split second.

"Sure, sure..."

Jack said, continuing to smoke his cigarette. He watched Dave aimlessly thrash around their room with great amusement, wondering if he'd already pressed his luck for today. It'd happened once, on their first trip, that he'd gotten Dave so riled up that he walked out the door and didn't return for an entire day. That time, he'd also learnt how easily he could get under Dave's skin if he tried:

"That's not what you said yesterday night, though."

Jack continued, flicking ash off the balcony as he watched Dave stiffen in place. He remembered exactly what the topic had been; he'd let himself go a little. Maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or maybe it was really just his feelings, but the closeness of spooning Jack simply wasn't close enough that day. He'd spoken in soft words, the way he wanted to kiss, to touch and perhaps something beyond that. This was unusually confrontational for Jack, who still had a smirk on his face as Dave flung a towel over his shoulders.

"Keep on dreaming sportsy, I'm showerin'!"

Dave spoke quickly, heading for their bathroom with a rapid pace. Jack assumed he was pushing it by now anyway, and said nothing in response. He wasn't a person for feelings or confrontations, he'd assumed Dave would be when taking his heightened emotions in consideration, but was proven wrong on instances like this. That was how they came to depend on things like their shared job and beds; things that didn't need discussion. But that wouldn't be applied tonight, Jack thought to himself as he glanced over to the separate beds.

Dave was taking awfully long, and Jack's cigarette pack was almost empty. Given he was usually asleep at this hour, he headed inside and changed into fresh boxers and a graphic tee. As he stepped into one of the beds and pulled the covers himself, he wondered what Dave was doing in their bathroom. He would hardly shower for this long, Jack knew, but he'd heard the water running for a while now. Maybe he was thinking about their prior conversation, he thought to himself, before being overtaken with the mental image of Dave rubbing one out to the thought of him. He couldn't decide if he liked it.

He'd nearly drifted off to sleep when Dave finally returned, hot steam pooling from the bathroom behind him. Jack pretended to be asleep, although he was unsure if Dave would buy into it this time around. For the next five minutes or so, he listened to Dave trash around, before he heard the creaking of another bed. He'd expected Dave not to crawl in with him, sure, but he hadn't expected the absolute dead silence that followed for the next ten minutes. Feeling unnerved; Jack reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, which usually helped him get to sleep.

Although he couldn't see through the dark room, Dave turned to face him as he watched the ashes of his cigarette burn bright in the darkness. He should say something, he convinced himself as he silently watched Jack smoke. They'd gone long enough with teasing games like these, which never actually lead them any further. That, and he felt awfully alone in the single bed. He coughed, his voice croaking to life loudly in contrast to the surroundings:

"Did you mean what you said, sportsy?"

"Mean what?"

Jack's answer was immediate, suggesting that he was likely also waiting for either of them to speak up.

"About, sayin' stuff when you're awake as well-"

"Yeah- Hell, I'd like you to-"

Jack's answer was immediate again, and while neither of their eyes were adjusted to the darkness enough to see it; they were staring directly at each other. Silence embraced them again, an odd experience in contrast to the week before. Jack tried to recall a night where they hadn't held conversation before either of them drifted to sleep or he pretended to, but failed to do so.

"Well-"

Dave's voice broke the silence, unusually loud in contrast to the nights where only a whisper would suffice.

"I've really enjoyed our time together, old sport-"

It hardly compared to all the sweet words he'd whispered to Jack while he thought he slept, but it was a start; they were talking.

"So have I... Aside from the time I threw up for, like, an hour-"

Jack exhaled smoke, attempting to recall fragmented memories from a night where he went particularly bad. Drugs were a relief by default, but he had overstepped his limit in that dimly lit pub. Dave barked a laugh, amused at the memory despite that fact he genuinely feared for Jack's life in that moment.

"We should do something else sometime, aside from the alcohol and all..."

Dave thought out loud, a reminiscing tone evident in his voice. He stared at the ceiling, and Jack somehow felt his gaze shift away.

"Like what?"

He asked Dave.

"Dunno sportsy- Something rich snobs do, like- Golf-?"

"I'd rather be hunched over that toilet again than ever set foot on a golf course."

"Oh come on! Wouldn't it be nice old sport?"

Jack barked a mocking laugh, pressing the butt of his cigarette to his nightstand as he lay on his side to face Dave. The idea of golf was ridiculous; them, standing amidst rich men in their painfully white polo's? Dave's mind truly worked in wondrous ways.

"What could possibly be nice about golf?"

He inquired, genuinely curious as to what Dave's vision was at this point.

"Well, maybe not golf, then, but- Just doing things together..."

"Things?"

Jack shot back, retrieving another cigarette from his scarce stash. Even when they had their own bed, they'd still find a way to hold conversation.

"Things normal people do, old sport! Like, barbecuing or something-"

"Going on a picnic?"

Jack added, and Dave took the bait:

"Yeah, like going on dates!"

"I think you meant things normal couples do."

Dave went silent, abysmally so. He considered them partners, in all fairness. He realized he'd never develop anything with anyone the way he had with Jack, and so he began to treat it as such. He knew he'd never dare to make the confession himself, so he instead danced the line between platonic and romantic around Jack as much as he could. And Jack didn't say anything; he was much the same, and was happy to stay in their situationship as long as he was ensured affection.

"Yeah, I- I guess-"

His voice showed his nerves. He wasn't used to Jack addressing when he verbally expressed anything remotely romantic, and now he didn't know what to say in response. His thoughts about what words to use next vanished abruptly as he heard Jack shift in his bed, hearing the floorboards creak under his weight.

"Can I come over?"

Jack asked, but he already knew the answer as he stood up:

"Yes."

Dave responded immediately, shifting to one side of his bed. It was new for Jack to insinuate this; it was usually him, who crawled up against his back in bed. And yet, here he stood; in a loose shirt and his boxers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he lifted the sheets to Dave's bed. It showed that he wanted to be alongside Dave just as much as the purple man wanted to be with him, and that there really was no way of telling what they were at this point.

"Normal couples, huh-?"

Jack murmured, as he buried his face against Dave's chest, hiding under the sheets up until his nose. The comment didn't startle Dave anymore as he hugged his arms around Jack, feeling one of his legs hook around his own. It was so familiar that it was immediately comforting, feeling Jack's hand rest on his back as he lay his chin on his head.

"What do they do...?"

Continued Jack, his voice growing lower as he settled in place. Dave rubbed slow circles over his back, feeling the rise and fall of Jack's chest while he thought about the question.

"Honestly sportsy, I couldn't tell ya-"

Jack stayed silent, inhaling deeply just to absorb Dave's scent, which reeked of cheap motel shampoo. An arm of Dave's shifted to hold his head, keeping him locked against his chest with a hand on his scalp. He'd noticed this was something Dave tended to do, some subconscious need to protect Jack even when there was no apparent danger. Jack let him, only snuggling closer as he absorbed Dave's warmth.

"Dinner dates and shared bank accounts, from what I gather-"

Dave finally continued, one of his hands still stroking Jack's back. The gentle contact was nice; the gesture was considerate.

"We've had dinner together, haven't we?"

Jack asked, trying to recall an example but failing to do so as he felt exhaustion wash over his body. He felt comfortable here, in Dave's arms, and it was taking effect on his body.

"I think a kebab in the middle of the night doesn't count, old sport-"

He huffed a laugh in response, feeling the movement of Dave's chest follow as he chuckled. For a moment he considered what to say, this was usually around the point where he would pretend to drift off to sleep and only hum in response, but he felt dubious that it would work now. Contemplating, he traced Dave's boney spine with his fingers, before speaking with a genuine voice:

"We can go on a date, a proper one, sometime-"

He could feel the way Dave's breath halted in his throat and escaped again after a solid five seconds.

"You mean it-?"

"Hmyeah, 's long as it's not golf-"

Dave laughed again, and it felt nice to hear his voice no longer straining with tension.

"What would we do then, sportsy?"

"I dunno-"

Jack was fighting the exhaustion, he hadn't struggled this much the nights before and couldn't figure out what was causing it. In his dazed mind, bordering dangerously close on falling asleep, he didn't think about the question he blurted out:

"Do you think we'll ever be able to get married?"

Dave stilled in his movement entirely, processing the question. He'd hardly dared to consider the possibility of dating, let alone marriage. Jack stirred in his arms, and he realized just how precious this moment was. Here, in a dark motel room, Jack had voluntarily headed for his bed and embraced him with a content smile. And right there, in that single bed, Dave finally felt loved.

"I don't- I don't know... Would you want to?"

He asked Jack, who hugged him impossibly closer upon hearing the question.

"Yeah- Yeah, I think I would..."

He could hear exhaustion in Jack's voice, and he seemed to ease against Dave's figure when he continued to rub circles on his back.

"A big wedding- You'll wear the dress-!"

Jack continued, sparking a laugh with Dave. It felt nice to feel his chest shake with laughter, Jack thought as he finally admitted defeat and closed his eyes. Dave came down from his laughter, speaking with an endeared voice:

"Really? Why do I gotta wear the dress old sport?"

"You'd look nice in it-"

Despite the obvious drowsiness in his voice, Jack's answer was immediate. Dave laughed again, softer this time as not to disturb Jack.

"Maybe we'll both wear dresses, then-"

He concluded with a huff, and Jack only hummed in approval. Dave could tell he was bordering on falling asleep, but could not yet find it in him to let the moment pass.

"You know- I really did mean everything I've said to ya' these past few nights."

Jack didn't respond, not verbally at least. He'd gotten so accustomed to simply listening that he could hardly think of a response, instead lightly squeezing Dave's side.

"And- About wanting to kiss you-"

He drew a breath, shaky and nervous.

"I do- I do want to do that, sometimes-"

Jack suddenly felt very awake again, listening intently with a blush on his face.

"When you do things for me, like get me dinner when I forgot to do it myself again- Or just, when you smile, I-"

He paused briefly, struggling over his words. It usually went smoother, but that was because he was under the presumption that they wouldn't mean anything to anyone aside from him. The room was quiet, filled with only the sounds of their heavy breathing until broke the silence:

"Are you listening, Jack?"

"Yes-"

The word was weak, like he'd just woken up, but he'd heard everything. Dave released a thoughtful sigh, briefly gathering his thoughts before he spoke again:

"I just want to kiss you- I look at you, and I don't see a friend but a-"

He stopped again, at a lack of words. He couldn't tell what they were, he didn't know how Jack felt and he considered calling them a couple would overstep his boundaries.

"-a partner in crime..."

He settled, although he felt it undermined what was really going on between them. Jack didn't give a response, he hadn't expected one to begin with, but what he especially hadn't expected was the way Jack raised from under the sheets. He retreated his arms from around Jack's waist, fearing he'd overstepped and Jack would flee his bed for just a brief second. His worries vanished again as he saw the way Jack leaned over him, supporting himself with a palm against the mattress, their faces only a few inches apart. The moment seemed to last forever, staring into each other's eyes with their mouths agape, hot breaths pooling between them.

"Sportsy, I-"

"Do you want to kiss me right now?"

"Yes-"

His voice was breathless, gasping into Jack's mouth when he connected them. It was gentle and sweet, contradictory to everything they thought they knew about each other. Dave's lips were warm, the hand that moved up to caress his cheek soothing. A moment of connection, no matter how brief, where two became one. He felt Dave's body shiver beneath him, gasping for a breath when he pulled away.

"Goodnight-"

Jack whispered, against the other's swollen lips before he retreated to his original spot against Dave's chest. A goodnight kiss, leaving him with a bittersweet aftertaste. He wrapped his arms back around Jack, hugging him close as if he feared he would leave. He'd hardly processed the fact Jack just kissed him, whispering a reply:

"Goodnight old sport-"

And for the first time during their time in Vegas, both went quiet until they inevitably fell asleep. Dave thought for a long time, about the implications and consequences of this, about what they were, but even he couldn't fight the exhaustion for much longer. Despite the rush of emotions coursing through him, Dave slept calmly that night. Jack's worry would come in the morning, beginning to softly snore.

It felt right, in the moment. The sweet tone in Dave's voice displayed genuine honesty and vulnerability, for once in his life. But now, as Jack slowly came to, still in the tight embrace of Dave's arms; he felt unsure again. He himself had no idea how to even begin to address anything said that night, and he knew Dave's wouldn't either. With the way their limbs intertwined, he couldn't do anything aside from wake Dave or stay perfectly still in his embrace, of which he chose the latter. The sun appeared behind high rise buildings, illuminating them as Jack tried to process it all in Dave's arms.

It didn't take long for the other to stir awake, grumbling and mumbling as he blinked against the bright sun. In a split second, Jack decided he would simply pretend to be asleep, again. He felt Dave shift against him, pulling a pillow under Jack's head where his arm once lay. With a hum, Dave sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Despite having his eyes closed, Jack could feel Dave's gaze land on him. What he didn't expect was the soft kiss on his forehead before Dave walked towards the bathroom, a small but meaningful gesture. It was a form of acknowledgement, in their own weird sense of the word.

As Dave locked himself in the bathroom, Jack sat against the headboard of their bed, staring numbly ahead of him. He feared for a moment that nothing would come of this, and they would simply return to normal as if the previous night hadn't happened. It, however, was short lasted as Dave exited the bathroom with his hair slicked back, his eyes immediately meeting with Jack's. He greeted the man with a quiet good morning, but he was already at the side of his bed in two quick steps. It was unusual for Dave to be so silent, and Jack looked up at him with a questioning look on his face. Dave simply stared at him with an unreadable expression, before fisting the collar of his shirt.

Dave dipped low, and Jack was briefly overcome with confusion before their lips mashed together. It wasn't half as gentle as the night before; it was much more like the Dave he knew, and by Fredbear was it a relief. He lay a hand on Dave's neck in turn, matching the intensity that coated their kiss as he let out a quiet whine from the back of his throat. Then, almost suddenly, Dave pulled away and released the grip on his shirt, turning aside to scrounge for any wearable clothing.

"Good morning sportsy."

Said Dave, flinging a shirt over his shoulder; one of the shirts that originally belonged to Jack. For a brief second Jack was startled, licking his lips dry, before he recovered himself. He considered that they wouldn't have to actually address it, if they were able to display their feelings through gestures like these. Aside from that, it was nice to see Dave with more confidence in insinuating things.

"So, what are our plans for today?"

He asked Dave, who couldn't seem to find a pair of pants. The man smirked in response, climbing back on their bed with his knees on either side of Jack's legs, a hand under his chin forcing Jack to look up at him.

"I dunno... You tell me, old sport~?"

Jack swallowed at the words, his eyes drifting to Dave's sharp canines that were just barely exposed to the sun. This was a positive development, he concluded.

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[5328 words]

*dreamy sigh* I'm going to call them a slur