feeling: unhinged. happy wip wmonday
warning: this is long-ish for a wip post (~900 words). it’s nearly half a scene of this stupid fic (fbofw, as i refer to it w/ my beta) and it’s absolutely atrociously unedited. the fic itself is about 24k and like 3/4 of the way done.
for context: jack/nico, arranged marriage au, their wedding was six months ago and they’re just figuring out how to communicate because they’re stupid (affectionate)
continue reading at your own peril but it feels good to just toss this out for rn.
Jack throws on an old university T-shirt and sweatpants and lies down on the bed in the dark, hands folded on his stomach. He thinks about Trevor’s words, about baby steps, about taking things slow and letting it unfold at its own pace.
And then he thinks, fuck that.
Before he can even think about stopping himself, he traipses out of his room and down the hall to knock at Nico’s door. In the silence following it, Jack almost lets himself regret it, almost lets himself back out and retreat back into his own room again. Then Nico responds.
“Come in,” he calls, muffled. Jack takes a deep breath and slips inside to see Nico sitting in bed—shirtless, because he’s a psychopath who doesn’t get cold in the middle of Swiss winters—the sheets pooled at his waist as he puts a book down on the bedside table. “Jack, hey, what’s up?” He sounds surprised, which is valid.
“So, I’m not going to lie,” Jack starts, conversational. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms to keep from fidgeting. “I tuned into one of your press conferences.”
Approximately fifteen different emotions flick over Nico’s face in real time before he settles on mildly mortified. “Oh, no,” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Was this the bedroom one?”
Jack grins at the reaction. “Didn’t take you to be one to air out our marital problems at an international political convention, but I suppose you learn something new every day.”
Nico peeks at him through his fingers. “Sorry if anything I said upset you.”
“No, no, that’s not— I’m not mad or anything,” Jack assures. Nico seems to relax at that, hands falling back to his sides as he awaits the rest of Jack’s reply curiously. “I just— You got something wrong, when you were talking about that.”
“Oh?” Nico scratches his chin, thoughtful. “What is it?”
“I don’t—” Jack clears his throat, shooing away the uncertainty creeping into his voice that he didn’t appreciate. “I don’t like space.”
Nico stares at him. “What?”
“I actually do really terrible when I’m alone and all my friends used to make fun of me for how clingy I am—hell my brothers still make fun of me for that, and I’ve just been having a maybe not-so-great time recently? Because I haven’t been able to—”
“Jack,” Nico says, patient but firm.
“Yes?” Jack breaths, thankful to have been cut off before he digs himself into a hole he can’t climb out of.
“Are you asking to sleep with me?”
Jack smiles, sly at the implication. “Well, I mean if you’re offering…”
“Jack…” Nico draws out his name this time, but there’s so much fondness under the irritation that Jack isn’t worried. “Just get over here.”
Jack barely resists the urge to pump his fist in delight as he closes the door behind him. If he’s being honest, he didn’t think this would be the outcome. He figured maybe Nico would agree to Jack being more touchy, even away from the cameras. Maybe a hug here, a hand hold there. Just more physical contact in their daily lives. But Nico seems to entirely miss this memo and skips straight to the part where he holds up the duvet as an invitation, and Jack’s not masochistic enough to decline.
He pads over to the right side of the bed—Jack’s usual side, the side that Nico’s left open and untouched, even the bedside table is empty there—and slips under the covers. Without waiting, he scoots all the way over and tucks himself into Nico’s side, hand on Nico’s chest and leg slung over his thighs. He had the open offer; he’s going to take it as far as Nico will let him.
This doesn’t seem to be pushing the envelope, at least not too much, because Nico just reaches over to flick off the lamp before settling down. Jack forgot that Nico’s like a human space heater, running deliciously warm and making Jack curl into him a little more, trying to forget the frigid weather that seems to permeate the walls of the palace.
Nico tilts his head so they’re facing each other, heads sharing one pillow. There’s no sign of him being at all displeased by Jack’s forwardness. “Doing better?” he asks. Jack can’t see the smile too well in the darkness, but he can hear it in Nico’s voice.
“Tons,” he admits, snuggling in a little more.
“I’m sorry if you felt like you couldn’t ask for this sooner,” Nico says. “I want you to be comfortable and happy and safe.”
“I didn’t want to break any of your boundaries,” Jack replies, suddenly very aware of how he’s stroking the soft skin across Nico’s ribs absently. Nico doesn’t object, so he doesn’t stop.
“Break my— What? By cuddling with you?” Nico snorts, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders to pull him closer. “I think my boundaries can take the hit.”
Jack laughs a little and kisses the inside of Nico’s bicep before he thinks better of it. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For this.”
There’s a soft press of lips to his forehead. “Any time. I mean it.”
Jack drifts off like that: smile on his face, husband in his arms, heartbeat steady next to his.
if you made it this far, thanks for reading. you are appreciated and i hope you have a wonderful day <3
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