Callum’s blood heated at a memory of the way Jack made him feel.
“When did you know you were pan?”
“I didn’t realize there was a word for it until I was in college. Until I met Verity, actually.”
“Are you attracted to them? Shit. Have you ever?” The idea of Jack having been with Verity, or Landon for that matter, was enough to threaten to send his picnic meal back into the basket.
“No!” Jack exclaimed with a raised voice. “No, kitten. Never. Not with Verity or with Landon.”
Jack pushed the basket out of the way and took Callum’s hands, pressing kisses against the tops of his knuckles and staring at him earnestly.
“How can you say it so matter of fact?” he asked. “Verity is fucking hot.”
Jack exhaled a relieved sounding laugh and smiled at him. “Verity is not my type.”
“What is your type?” he asked, feeling like his lungs were too big for his chest.
“Messy brown hair. Green eyes.” Jack licked his lips and was silent until Callum found his eyes. “Vers.”
Callum inhaled a shaking breath. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
The idea of being strung along by someone like Jack was too much to handle. It had been one thing with Ian, one thing with all the other dates he’d had that ended with misconceptions and letdowns but, God, please not with Jack.
“I’m inclined to give you anything you’d ever ask me for and you know it, so don’t act like giving you that is any different.” Jack squeezed his fingers. “Just not yet. Not right now.”
“I can live with that,” he assured Jack.
“Good. Besides, you’re stuck with me. I crossed this continent for you!” Jack let go of his fingers and stretched his arms out like he could encompass the sky in his embrace.
Without warning, Callum found himself overwhelmed by the importance of what Jack had done for him—for them. Inexplicably, it hadn’t seemed like such a big thing until this moment, but maybe it was something about the way the moon reflected off Jack’s cheeks or the way his arms looked so strong in the starlight. Jack looked at him and his eyes were fathomless galaxies ripe with a future that may have never been tangible if he hadn’t gotten so sick.
Callum launched himself across the blanket, taking Jack’s face into his hands and sealing their mouths together. He kissed Jack like it was the first time and the last time all wrapped into one, digging his fingers into Jack’s cheeks and pouring himself into his mouth, unrestrained.
When he’d had enough, he leaned back and smiled, finding Jack dazed but content.
“Show me the world now?” He breathed against Jack’s mouth.
Jack took his hand and guided them to the telescopes, situating Callum in front of him and pulling the telescope toward his face.
Callum squinted through the viewfinder, the stars looking infinitely brighter than they did to the naked eye. Jack’s chest against his back tethered him to the earth, but he felt overwhelmed by the vastness of the moment. So small and so large at once.
“What do you see?” Jack breathed into his ear.
“Stars.”
One of Jack’s hands skated its way up Callum’s stomach, fingers dancing along his chest. “What shape are they in?”
“There’s a triangle,” he answered, eyes searching out constellations he didn’t know the names of.
“Triangulum.”
“Are you just making that up?” Callum laughed, leaning into Jack’s chest.
“No, that’s its name.” Jack traced a triangle on Callum’s sternum. “There’s planets inside that constellation, galaxies even.”
“Are you serious?” Callum turned and flattened his hands against Jack’s chest, staring up at him.
“Mmnhm,” Jack confirmed. “Almost three million light years away.”
