Page 80 of We Were Never Lovers
“Nah,” Sean replied and loosened his grip so he could stroke his knuckles with his thumb. “I couldn’t bring myself to mess up that pretty face.”
Jack had laughed and Sean had tugged him in until he was wrapped around him.
He saw Jack now outside by the BBQ, half-heartedly cleaning it with a spatula, and he saw now what he hadn’t been able to see for months—the tightness in his shoulders, the tension on his face, the paleness of his skin and the shadows under his eyes. He was hit then with the memory of Jack showing him this house—their house—his smile, so sure, because he knew Sean would like it, the way that smile had widened when he showed him their bedroom, waved his hand around and mumbled about a four-poster bed for “stuff we could do,” his face bright red.
And Sean loved him. In that moment, he couldn’t remember being happier—he was moving in with his boyfriend, they were going to share a room, a bed, get a dog. It’d been early days, but he’d known it was a forever kind of love.
But they’d never talked about it again beyond that first time on the beach because Sean thought they both knew. But maybe Jack didn’t know.
He slid the door open.
“Jack,” he said.
Jack turned to him and Sean saw it in high definition then—the tightness was around Jack’s eyes, the tension was in every line of his body; he’d been so good to Sean and he’d been alone in it.
“Jack, it’s me,” Sean said and walked the few steps to him.
“Sean?” Jack asked, hopeful but unbearably unsure too.
“It’s me,” Sean said again, face splitting into a grin that felt soft too. The same soft look he’d developed only for Jack.
Jack’s face crumbled and he dropped the spatula. Sean caught him up in a hug as Jack began to shake and tears fell from his eyes.
“Ya did so good. It’s me, it’s me,” Sean murmured and gripped him tightly.
Jack pressed his face into the crook of his neck, his tears wetting Sean’s skin, his arms crushing Sean against him.
“I missed you so much,” Jack said against Sean’s throat, voice thick with tears.
Sean squeezed him as hard as he could because he didn’t have the words—now he had him back, he realised if he’d known what was there to miss, he’d have missed him too.
“It’s okay, I’m back,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of Jack’s head. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”
And Jack cried harder. Sean huffed a laugh, but he pressed more kisses to Jack’s hair, to the shell of his ear and murmured how good he was, how he took such good care of him, how Sean wasn’t going to leave.
Jack pulled back, eyes bloodshot and bleary with tears, but his smile was the real one Sean remembered.
“You said we were never lovers,” Sean said to him as he thumbed the tears away from Jack’s cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Jack replied, his hands pulling Sean close like he was afraid he would leave.
Sean smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t have believed you.”
Jack dropped his gaze and nodded.
“And that woulda hurt,” Sean slid his hand around the back of Jack’s neck and gripped him gently. “But we’re more than that, right?”
Jack looked up, eyes searching Sean’s.
“I thought so,” he said after a moment.
“Me too,” Sean breathed out. He leaned up and kissed him and it felt like coming home
They made their way inside, back into their bed, curled around each other, watching one another with legs tangled. Sean couldsmell Jack’s minty breath, saw with fascination the way his whole face had finally relaxed.
“I reckon we need to tell people,” he said.
Jack looked surprised.
