Jackson and Hakeem tidy up the kitchen while Eddie keeps Princess out of trouble, a few pieces of fruit and attention doing the trick for the time being. Jackson looks up at Eddie with a forlorn expression on his face, wallowing in his defeat at the paws of a small raccoon. “Please nevermention this again.”
Hakeem’s distraught expression echoes the statement. “Is this the kind of thing that stops people from getting their PhD?”
Jackson pats him on the back as Eddie barks a laugh at the thought. “No, Hakeem, I think you’ll be fine on that front.”
After the kitchen is cleaned up and Princess Bandit settles down for a nap, Eddie and Hakeem head out for their shifts at work. Jackson is working from home, only partially to keep an eye on the little rascal they adopted into their home.
The idle click clacking of his keyboard and the soft snores coming from Princess Bandit on top of her cat castle are the only sounds filling the apartment. Rain starts to pitter patter lightly on the terrace, the sound of droplets hitting the glass falling from a cloudy sky create a serene scene around Jackson. A feeling of melancholy washes over Jackson. He had grown accustomed to being alone for so many years, now in the quiet of his apartment his heart begins to yearn for the chaos of the morning.
He can do without the mess, the armed raccoon, or the embarrassment of being outwitted by said raccoon, but it was just so quiet without Hakeem and Eddie home. His office downtown is always filled with the hustle and bustle of people talking aloud, scurrying off to meetings with clients and Wendy stopping by to fill him in on the latest circulating gossip. When was the last time he craved the rowdiness and chaos that came with living with other people?
You remember little bat, don’t deny yourself that.
Not again. Jackson grows tired of hearing that voice whenever he feels low. Why now, after so many years of solitude does it constantly try to remind him of a past he would rather forget?
Forget them? Or what you did? How you ran.
Jackson has no energy for this ridiculousness, the voice more of a nuisance now than a source of anger. Maybe a nap would help clear his head, his movements were getting sluggish, eyes growing heavy. He considers a coffee to pick himself up, but he’s had three cups today and nothing seems to be coming from it. A quick nap, then back to work.He should be up before Hakeem and Eddie get home. Maybe he’ll take a crack at making dinner, nothing could be worse for the kitchen than this morning’s fiasco.
Jackson doesn’t bother changing out of his short sleeve polo and jeans, if he’s too comfortable the whole day would get away from him. He pulls back the covers and settles into bed, burying himself in his duvet and pillows. His eyes are so heavy, he shouldn’t be this tired but maybe it was just one of those days. He can feel his breathing even out, the weight of his blankets settling down on him, they are so warm. He let himself be engulfed by their embrace, just a quick nap is all he needs.
* * *
The sound of someone working in the kitchen, the smell of garlic and onion sauteed in butter tickles Jackson’s nose. Was Hakeem home already? Jackson thought he had to work late in the lab today. Maybe Eddie is back from the gym and took the lead on dinner. It smells so good, causing his stomach to rumble. Maybe he could give a hand with dinner, perhaps offering his service as a taste tester.
Something sparks in the back of Jackson’s mind, the smell is familiar. Was it a recipe the boys had made before? Jackson can’t put his finger on it. Then he remembers, his stomach turning at the memory as his eyes burst open. He jerks awake covered in a sheen of sweat. “No, no this isn’t real.”
Jackson looks around him as he goes to rise out of bed, this isn’t his room. It was though, just one he hadn’t been in for over sixty years. It was cramped, with exposed brick and piping. A slight draft coming in from the cracked open window, tickling his bare skin.
He realizes he isn’t wearing the shirt he had gone to bed in, and definitely isn’t wearing anything under the thin covers over his legs. The sound of someone stirring next to him catches his attention, his heart twisting at the sound. Jackson hasn’t heard that voice in decades. Resigned to knowing it would be impossible to ever hear that melodic voice again.
“Jackson? What’s wrong, babe? Bad dream?”
Don’t look over, don’t look over. He isn’t there, he isn’t there.
Jackson’s mind races, overflowing with denial. “Awe, my little bat, come here.” Gentle hands tug at Jackson’s arm, pulling him back into the small bed. Arms of lean muscle pull him into a warm chest, dark brown skin pressing into his cheek as he’s pulled tighter into an embrace he knows shouldn’t be there.
Jackson dares a peek at the man holding him close, who once held Jackson’s heart in his hands like a precious jewel. He can feel heat build up behind his eyes, a treacherous tear rolling down his cheek. Gentle brown eyes meet his, a soft smile from full pink lips meant only for him.
This isn’t real, this can’t be real.
This is the cruelest joke the world had decided to play on Jackson.
Jackson’s voice catches in his throat, the sound a quivering whisper. He can’t stop the name escaping his lips in a tremble, a name he dare not speak since that night. “Ravi.” The name is bittersweet rolling off his tongue, how he missed the sound of it coming from his mouth. “Is it really you?” He reaches out to caress the sharp jawline of the man he once loved, cheek warm to the touch, a sensation he had long ago forced himself to forget.
Ravi giggles as he guides Jackson face closer for a peck on the lips. His heart jumps in his chest, swearing he had forgotten how Ravi had felt, how he tasted, but his body seems to remember in full force. “Who else would you expect, my little bat, Judy Garland?” He pulls Jackson in closer, his embrace tightening as he nuzzles into Jackson’s neck. Jackson tightens his hold on Ravi, breathing in his scent. Ravi is really in his arms, he wants to believe that, no matter how impossible it seems.
“Jackie! Ravi! The sauce is almost done and Tony says the pasta and garlic bread isn’t far behind. Get your queer asses out of bed and set the table or you don’t get any!”
A familiar gruff voice, names he hasn’t heard in ages, the intoxicating smell of days past. Jackson doesn’t want to believe it true.
How he prays it is.
Ravi kisses Jackson’s neck, a smile forming on his lips. He sits up, letting Jackson out of his hold. He looks exactly like Jackson dared to remember.Dark brown skin, pink hair cut close to the scalp, soulful brown eyes and intoxicating lips. The shine of gold earring conduits on his pointed ears. He looks beautiful. A slender frame, the sharp v that draws Jackson’s eyes to the spot hidden by the blanket. “Coming, Vinny! Calm your ass down.” Ravi turns back to look down at Jackson, a warm smile making him melt under Ravi’s gaze. “Let’s get up, baby. You know how pissy Vinny and Tony get when they have to wait to eat.”
Jackson did know that, he spent decades trying to forget. To shield his heart from the pain of losing this, this domestic life he had spent years building. He knows this apartment, these people. He knows the sounds and smell of this life he had built with them. Jackson loved them with all his heart, and it hurt even more when they slipped away from his grasp that fateful night.
Vincent and Antonio were a lion and tiger fated mate pair, and amazing cooks. Ravi was a skilled mage, his specialty hydromancy, an aspiring journalist whose passion was researching the relation between the exiled queer communities of the human realm and those that awakened a spark of magic. He dared to remember how they would use Ravi’s magic to dance on the water of New York’s shores, under the stars and moon hidden away from human eyes. Simple illusion charms hiding their pointed ears. These were the people he built a life within the human realm for nearly two decades. His closest friends and the first love of his life.
