hollow_moon | For Jag

For Jag

Their time together at his grandfather's had been lovely, and spent mostly in bed. Eventually, however, Val had been forced to return to work, and he was certain Jag would have to do the same.

"I've a lot going on in the next week, but I swear I'll call you the moment I've got it all under control," he'd promised- And he'd been true to his word, inviting Jag to join him for dinner the first chance he got.

He'd considered restaurants, but Jag wasn't much for being spoiled in Val's experience. He'd have gladly cooked a meal for the man himself, but he hadn't had a chance to pick up groceries, and they'd never be delivered on time... So he'd settled on a catered dinner at the museum. Nothing too posh, but a nice mix of South Korean cuisine that he hoped Jag would like.

Meeting at the museum meant Val could work right up until the moment Jag arrived- Something he didn't find ideal, but was certainly necessary at the moment while they switched out several of the exhibits and went through various requests to lend out certain items.

"I'll leave the back door unlocked," he'd told Jag. "Just let yourself in, I'll likely hear you coming, but if i don't I'll just be in my office."

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"Both, I suppose?" Val replied awkwardly. "Maybe I'm reading into it all wrong, but- That seems to be a common theme in any problems we have. Where we come from, where we each stand- It feels a bit silly to pretend it doesn't cause tension. You assume the people I know will- I don't know, look down on you or something? At least, I assume that's what's happening. ...Perhaps you look down on them. I'm not sure. ...And it's not something I know how to deal with. I say things, and I often fear I'm only making it worse."

"I'm Roma, in all the ways that matter," Jag answered, after a moment. "I'm busking for a living, living in a squat. I nick the odd wallet when I don't make enough. People like you - they usually do look down on me. And yeah, I look down on them right back, when they're priviledged arseholes like that." His thumb had been rhythmically stroking Val's hand, and he squeezed it now. "But you're not."

"It's something we have do deal with eventually though, Jag. If we get serious, I'll want you to meet my family. ...And surely you don't want to busk and squat forever," he added, assuming that had to be the case simply because it was no life he'd want to live himself.

"I don't know what I'll -" Jag frowned, and cut himself short. He swallowed, glanced down, then looked up at Val. "I might never want your sort of life, Val."

"I don't expect you to, but it could be a problem in the long term," Val said quietly, seeing no reason to pretend it might not be.

Jag rubbed at the back of his neck in a show of nervousness. "Yeah, well. That's long term." He would be surprised if he hadn't fucked this up long before then. He would be surprised if he hadn't fucked this up by the end of the year.

"It's something we need to be mindful of is all," Val said, though his smile seemed faded now- As though reality was slowly creeping in.

They were so different- Could this ever really work?

Jag leaned in and paused, giving Val time to pull away before pressing his lips to his in a soft, hesitant kiss. "But let's try, yeah? We'll make it work somehow." He was doing his absolute best not to fuck it up, after all.

"I'd very much like to try," Val said, chasing Jag's lips and exhaling softly.

Because honestly, he'd much rather see it go up in flames than never let it happen at all.

Relief washed through Jag as he deepened the kiss, bringing his free hand to Val's neck and pouring that relief, and his gratitude, into the kiss.

Val felt it, and he moaned softly into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Jag's hair as he pulled him closer.

Jag bit at his bottom lip, then licked his way back into Val's mouth, heat spreading like a fire through his body. "Tell me we're done talking for now?" he asked against his lips, right before kissing him again, before giving him time to answer.

Val didn't answer, he simply returned the affection, settling in closer as his hands found Jag's shoulders.

He was content not to talk any more- Not when it felt like the conversation had been taking a melancholy turn.

The conversation had been looking much too far into the future, Jag reckoned, when this was what mattered. The present. The way they felt together. The way heat curled inside him and licked at his lungs at the slide of Val's tongue against his, something just as valuable as his fire, if different. He was taking Val's lack of a verbal answer as a yes, and he moved to straddle his lap, hands cradling his face as he deepened the kiss.

Val held him, his arms wrapping around him and supporting him as he tilted his head back slightly and leaned in to return the kiss.

His movements were slower, calmer. He was having a good day, and that meant he had full control over himself, a zen like state that lingered even as his kisses grew more passionate.

"I've missed you," Jag murmured against his lips, between one increasingly heated kiss and the next. His hands slid down to Val's chest, and then down to slid them under his clothes, find skin. "I want you," he added, much the same way, unwilling to stop kissing him for longer than it would take to mutter a handful of words.

Val wanted this, he did, but again it felt like a rush towards carnal desires. yes he wanted Jag, of course he did, but he wanted to know him too. His favourite music, his favourite film- His childhood nickname, or how he preferred his coffee... His political leanings, if he ever watched Big Brother... Little things that he was certain you were supposed to talk about. Little things they often seemed to skim over.

"Jag," he sighed. "I thought we were talking... Don't have to talk about serious things, but..." He paused to kiss him again, then pushed him back slightly.

"Don't think I don't want you, I do, but I also want to know you. I want to now what you love, what you hate... What you want for Christmas? I don't know. Just everything."

Jag didn't say anything for a few seconds, then pulled his hands back to rest them on his thighs, fingers slightly curled. "Right," he stated, his breath still a little short, and he forced himself to move off Val, sitting on the couch beside him and readjusting himself in the hope of being less uncomfortable. "Sorry." He pushed a hand back through his hair, then rubbed at his nape, and glanced at Val. "I don't know what I want for Christmas."

"Don't be sorry, I was very much enjoying it," Val assured him, reaching over and resting a hand on Jag's thigh. "I just- I want to do this right. I dated a lot when I was younger, but as an adult not so much. ...I care for you though, deeply, and... I want to know you, Jag. Not just your body- wonderful and intoxicating as it is- but all of you. I can't help but feel like there's still a wall up though. Like perhaps you're not certain you want to let me in. ...You do trust me, don't you?" he asked, perhaps a touch nervously.

"With - what, me?" Jag asked, a frown on his brow, not really sure where this was coming from or how to go about answering it. "Mostly I don't trust... myself." Letting Val in all the way didn't feel like the best idea, since Jag would inevitably fuck this up.

And then again, Jag wasn't very good at letting people in as a rule. It had taken Kennick and Drina a long time to get there with him and even to this day, he sometimes held them at arm's length.

"To know you," Val explained. "I'm not- I'm not upset or anything, this isn't me starting an argument- I just sometimes feel like you're guarding yourself from me, that's all."

"What do you want to know?" Jag asked with raised eyebrows. This was an easy fix. "I'll tell you."

"Well, let's start with something small," Val suggested, relaxing now and settling in closer to Jag as he slipped an arm around the other man's shoulders, the tips of his fingers toying with the ends of his hair. "What was the first concert you ever attended?" he asked curiously.

"I snuck into a Snow Patrol concert when I was eleven," Jag answered, leaning sideways into the couch, and into the touch. But keeping his hands to himself, because he was going to behave, for once. "It was before they made it really big, but it still felt like the best evening ever. Like nothing could ever top it." It had been worth his foster parents at the time deciding he was too much trouble for them, even if he'd ended up with those bastards, next.

Val laughed softly at that, then grinned.

"Naughty," he teased. "I like them too though," he smiled.

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