#punk!jack

Yes, roses were cliche and cheesy, Jack was well aware of that. Jack also didn’t care. He’d long ago given in to the fact that he was a hopeless romantic. So he bravely held out the flowers, flashing a smile.

“Hi!”

“Hey- oh. Wow.”

Well that wasn’t exactly the expression Jack had been hoping for. Were flowers that lame, or-

“You ehm… shouldn’t have.” Hikke was trying very hard not to laugh. Jack followed his gaze. The previously very pretty bouquet was no longer pretty. On the contrary. At least half the roses were snapped or missing petals or both. It made for a very pathetic bunch of flowers that looked more like it came from a trashcan after a very disappointing valentines day rather than a flower shop.

“Oh shit.”

The brunet couldn’t hold it in and laughed his ass off. “I guess they didn’t survive the trip on that black beast of yours. Come in, I’ll put them on water anyway.” He stepped aside. “Maybe they will recover? At least some of them might. Like that lone survivor over there.”

Jack followed inside, sad flowers and all, and watched as his date searched around. Hikke looked in some cupboards in the kitchen, and in a closet full of random stuff and cleaning supplies, but no large, glass, water-holding object was found. Eventually he gave up and settled for an old-looking Greek pot. Both giggled as Hikke filled it with water and tried to patch up the roses a bit. It was hopeless in every possible way, so the hopeless vase-improvisation matched nicely.

When that was settled, they were on their way. Jack helped Hikke with his helmet. Once secure, they climbed on his bike and drove downtown. Hikke had no idea where they were going - Jack hadn’t told him. He just drove them to The Northpole with the very simple reasoning that his favourite club would at least be okay with Hikke.

It was the perfect plan. He already looked forward to seeing this man loose himself to the music and float along on the flow of movement. And he would be there right alongside him. It was going to be beautiful.

They got in quicker than expected. Jack had planned to chat a bit in line with Hikke first, but Phil had bouncer duty. The big, hairy man let them cut the line.

There was a lounge area to the left, the dance floor right in front of them, and another bar to the right. On the far side was a stage with a DJ on it, flanked by huge speaker towers. The place was packed with people. They were all bouncing and dancing and waving to the beat, lost in the deafening music.

“Do you want to get a drink or dance?” Jack yelled in Hikke’s ear. The brunet motioned ‘drink’, so they took a left. Jack pointed to an empty table and yelled he’d get them something.

Hikke couldn’t believe his bad luck. He meets an actually interesting guy who, despite Hikke treating him badly as a nurse, agreed to go on a date with him. And then he takes him here, of all places. A speed-infested hive of sweaty people with music so loud it hurt. Gracious Lords above, what had he done to deserve this?

Jack returned with two cocktails and Hikke forced a smile. This was the dork that gave him flowers, after all. He’d never gotten flowers before, let alone roses. He mouthed ‘thanks’ and took a sip. It was sweet, with the distinct underlying flavour of high alcohol content. He liked it better than the dubstep the DJ switched to.

He wanted to talk to Jack like they did through text and chats. He knew they could laugh together and that Jack was really nice to talk to. But the yelling made it rather hard to have any kind of conversation besides a ‘how’s your head’ and judging other people’s outfits through expressions and gestures.

The cocktail disappeared way too fast. And then another, because Hikke asked for a refill. It was only postponing the inevitable, however.

“Let’s dance!” Jack yelled with a big smile.

How was Hikke going to talk himself out of this? He liked Jack and he didn’t want an unfortunate first date to ruin everything. But he also loathed dancing. His body just didn’t move the way he wanted it. His leg would hurt and trip him up. He’d loose his balance and bump into people or flail hopelessly. No matter what he did, he’d be awkward and self-conscious, and everyone would look at him. They wouldn’t show it, but he knew they were judging him. He hated it.

This was not going to work.

Jack got up but stopped when the brunet remained seated, frowning.

“Come on, it’ll be great! Let loose!” he yelled. Hikke shook his head, trying to come up with a way to salvage this situation. “I promise I won’t grind!” Jack joked.

After another tense moment with no replies, Jack bent close again.

“You hate it here, don’t you?”

Hikke bit his lip and nodded, giving Jack an apologetic look. He prayed Jack wouldn’t take offense, but the punk smiled sadly and shook his head. Hikke’s heart dropped. He’d ruined it.

Great job, pegleg.

The punk jerked his thumb towards the exit. They picked up their coats in silence and headed out into the evening chill. The sudden silence was deafening. All sounds were quiet compared to the intense music they just emerged from. They stood next to Jack’s bike for a moment, until Jack disturbed the quiet with an awkward cough.

“Sorry,” Jack said.

“For what?”

“I should have asked if you liked this to begin with.” The white-haired man shrugged, rattling the chain on his jacket. “I just assumed. But the night is still young! We can go somewhere else to chill? Grab a beer?”

“Nah, I’d rather just go home.” Upon Jack’s sad, defeated look, he quickly added: “We could watch a movie there!” That cheered him up all right.

A short while later, they settled on Hikke’s couch with beer, Pringles, and Netflix.

“Treasure Planet,” Jack insisted.

“What about The Lion King?”

“Jim fucking Hawking is my aesthetic man.”

Hikke laughed. “But it can’t beat Wall-E.”

“Maybe, but it’s terribly underrated.”

“So is Atlantis.”

“That guy’s pegleg should appeal to you, right?”

“I hope no-one sees me as a surrogate father figure though,” Hikke deadpanned.

“So I don’t need to call you daddy?”

“Okaaay, Treasure Planet it is!”

As the intro logos flashed by, Hikke felt Jack move and shift until there was a head on his shoulder. He snickered and lifted his arm. Unlike dancing, he did like cuddles.

One thing led to another… and one movie turned into a whole Disney marathon. They kept arguing which movies were the best, so they also end up seeing Wall-E, Brother Bear, and Brave, varying their cuddle positions over time as limbs fell asleep and muscles got sore.

While Merida’s mom was acting rather bear-like, Jack started to doze off. By the end of the movie, he was out cold.

Both men were kinda drunk, and Hikke wasn’t going to take the trouble of waking Jack up. He wouldn’t be able to drive home anyway. Instead, he untangled himself from the white-haired punk, draped a blanket over him, and called it a night.