#ans;jackson

"I— ….I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure he has a good reason for leaving. He wouldn’t just leave for no reason, and if he had to leave without saying a word, I’d like to think he’d find a way to let me know. …but it’s also been a couple months now, and I haven’t seen or heard from him. I don’t think I could just take him back. I think I’d need an explanation, and then time to think it over. And really, if I can’t outright say that I would, maybe he deserves someone better than me anyway."

Jackson hums a quiet acknowledgement, free hand drifting to drag through Yien’s hair. He doesn’t bother trying to explain that the cat’s probably dead, that LA streets are dangerous for strays. After all, Yien is joking. Right?

The noise that Jackson makes is somewhere between a sigh and a moan, something breathy and low and so very pleased, and as soon as his wrists are free, they lift and tangle in Yien’s bright red hair. And they stay there for the longest time, unmoving until the moment that Jackson gently pulls Yien’s head back. “Hi,” he says on a ragged breath of air, grin sedated. He can still feel Yien’s breath over his lips, and it’s a rather nice feeling, if he says so himself. “I missed you, too.”

Jackson is more than a little surprised at first, startled by the less than gentle motion, but then he's snorting, grinning, and making a face at the elder. "Pinned me," he agrees with the slightest tilt of his head. "What are you going to do now that you have me?"

His first instinct is to whine, because fuck, it's math, why is it math, but then it begins to click, the numbers add up for him, and then they don't even matter to the whole picture, and that's when Jackson's cheek flush the faintest shade of primrose. "I swear to god," he mumbles, shifting to press his forehead against Yi-en's shoulder. If he can't see the elder, then he can't be seen, either. "What if I want more than a decade's worth of hours, huh? Or am I not allowed to think ahead that far?"

Jackson jolts at the touches, startled from his studies, and he leans back and peers down at Yi-en with wide eyes before he’s laughing and tugging his fingers through the elder’s hair once more. For the time being, the textbook and his notes are forgotten. “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Jackson likes Yi-en’s kisses, but they’re a slippery slope -- one he can’t necessarily climb back up. ...then again, he doesn’t exactly want to, either. By the time Yi-en pulls away, seeming content with a job well-done Jackson is breathless and light-headed, smile so wide that it hurts. “I like the sound of that,” Jackson chuckles, arms loose where they are looped around Yi-encs waist. “My idiot. I think I can handle whatever you decide to try and throw at me. I’ve done pretty well so far, after all. And, truth be told...” Jackson leans in, lips brushing against the curve of the elder’s ear, “I really kind of like it when you purr. Especially if I’m the one making it happen.”

Jackson’s throw is spot on, and he laughs out loud as purple splashes across pristine white before dripping down to stain clothing and shoes, and also to begin puddling on the floor. Yi-en, two. Jackson, one. “Is it really that hard?” Although Jackson is already stepping back to grab another balloon, he really is curious, his eyes never straying from Yi-en’s features. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean for that to happen, you know.”