Page 73 of Make the Play
“I met someone. A guy—the most incredible guy. He’s smart and kind, and he knows all tons of niche information about the most random things, so talking to him is always fun. He’s just…amazing. He also wears a suit like it’s nobody's business.”
For all the hours Jason spent thinking about this moment, whether Emerson’s reaction would be positive or negative, a non-reaction hadn’t occurred to him.
“Emmy?”
Emerson takes a deep breath, fingers tightening in Jason’s suit to the point of discomfort.
“Just so we’re clear, this guy. Is he, um?—”
“You,” Jason finishes, realizing he was maybe not quite clear enough. “It’s you, Emmy. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the day we met, and I didn’t realize what it meant until very recently, but I know now, and I’m…I’m still not sure what I am. Bisexual maybe. Or Pan. Probably Bi but I’m not sure. I just know it’s not other people, it’s you. It’s just you.”
“What’s so special about me?” Emerson asks in that way of his when he’s trying to puzzle something out that he doesn’t understand.
“Everything,” Jason answers, letting the tips of his fingers skim Emerson’s hair. It’s as soft as always, and the itch to sink his fingers into it, to pull Emerson against his body and keep him there is so damn strong. If they didn’t need to leave for the dance very soon he might try it.
“I don’t know about that,” Emerson mumbles.
“I do,” Jason counters, because while there is so much about his own sexuality he is still wildly uncertain about, his feelings for Emerson are crystal clear. “I see you, Emmy. I see your bravery and intelligence and kindness, and I like it all. You are so fucking special, and I like you. I like you so damn much it should scare me, but all I feel is excitement. Liking you feels like the moment right before a game when there’s nothing but possibility and hope.”
There’s a brief moment where Jason worries that maybe he’s been too honest, too upfront and too quick. His ex-girlfriends used to complain he was intense, and clingy, but he’s never understood it. If you like someone, aren’t you supposed to want to tell them? To spend all your time with them? He can’t imagine anything better than being allowed to be with Emerson all the time.
“Did you just compare me to football?” Emerson questions with the slightest quirk to his head.
“Uh, yes?”
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Emerson says so seriously Jason worries he’s fucked up. Then Emerson’s lips curl up on each side in one of his rare, face splitting smiles. In this moment, Jason knows Emerson isn’t like football, he’s better. He’s the best thing in the entire fucking world.
“I like football,” Jason says, unable to stop his own face from breaking out into a self-satisfied grin. He can’t help it. He’s just so goddamn happy right now. “And you. I like you very much. As a friend and also romantically. In case I didn’t make that clear before.”
“I did pick up on that,” Emerson says, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. “I—uh, me too.”
“You like football, too?” Jason teases.
“Absolutely not,” Emerson deadpans. “But I could try, for you.”
“I don’t want you to change for me, Emmy. I like you exactly like you are.”
“I like you too,” Emerson whispers. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone. Ever. I don’t even like most people, and I definitely don’t like anyone the way I like you. I want to be around you even when I want to be alone. It’s absolutely terrifying, Jason.”
“Hopefully not all scary,” Jason says, giving in to his urges to touch and soothe by letting his hand slide around the back of Emerson’s head. The reaction is instantaneous as Emerson presses into the touch ever so slightly, all the encouragement Jason needs to let his fingers sink into Emerson’s gorgeous red hair.
“I’m not sure,” Emerson answers, in that totally honest way of his. “It’s not bad but it’s…confusing.”
“Should I stop?”
“Absolutely do not stop touching me,” Emerson says, his hold on Jason’s suit damn near punishing now. “You started this.”
“I did,” Jason says, pretty sure he might never stop smiling again.
“We have to go to the dance, Jason. We’re going to be late. We can’t be late, we’ll get in trouble. And the school, oh my god, we just had a meeting with HR. What if they think we were lying and?—”
“Breathe,” Jason soothes. “Two teachers dating isn’t against the rules as long as there isn’t a power imbalance which, since we’re in different departments there isn’t. I checked this morning by the way, just to be sure. We’ll have to disclose things to HR if this goes somewhere, and I really hope it does, but we can take it one step at a time.”
Emerson’s frown deepens, but all Jason can think iscute. So fucking cute. He loves Emerson’s adorable frown. Not that he wants Emerson to worry because he’s absolutely certain they won’t get in trouble for dating, but he’s grown rather fond of Emerson’s resting frown and the way his lips—the top one just a little thinner than the bottom—turn down by default.
He wants to nibble them, wants to draw his tongue across those lips. First though, he needs to ask Emerson a very important question.
“I forgot to ask you something,” Jason says, letting his thumb stroke over the shell of Emerson’s ear. Even that is cute. He’s not sure he’s ever found anyone as attractive as he does Emerson, the sight of all his pale skin and long limbs, the line of his exposed throat and the tousle of red hair. He’s absolutely fucking gorgeous, and Jason might not have any idea how to please another man sexually, but fuck, he wants to learn.
