[ He says it softly, with meaning even though it's hushed. The apartment is quiet, bathed in the in-between afternoon light that says "sit" and "rest" and maybe even encourages your mouth to pull up just slightly at the corners. They stay close to one another and for a moment, Isaac takes in the feeling of Jack's pulse through his skin, the way the junction of his own thumb and forefinger remain close to his throat, palm flat on his shoulder. He's reluctant to relinquish any sort of touch on him at all.
Maybe he's just afraid he'll up and disappear again, just like that.
Gone.
He's tempted to suggest things. Maybe he's got a migraine, have a drink the kill the pain, lay him down, take a shower, watch something mindless like that dumb movie he's got on the coffee table that, according to the receipt, is a month overdue.
Instead he just pulls forward again and slides arms around him, pulling him back into the embrace with his face pressed into the pulse of his neck, feeling the way it barely flutters against his breath. It's good to have you home, the gesture says. It's good to know you aren't dead somewhere I can't help. ]
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[ He says it softly, with meaning even though it's hushed. The apartment is quiet, bathed in the in-between afternoon light that says "sit" and "rest" and maybe even encourages your mouth to pull up just slightly at the corners. They stay close to one another and for a moment, Isaac takes in the feeling of Jack's pulse through his skin, the way the junction of his own thumb and forefinger remain close to his throat, palm flat on his shoulder. He's reluctant to relinquish any sort of touch on him at all.
Maybe he's just afraid he'll up and disappear again, just like that.
Gone.
He's tempted to suggest things. Maybe he's got a migraine, have a drink the kill the pain, lay him down, take a shower, watch something mindless like that dumb movie he's got on the coffee table that, according to the receipt, is a month overdue.
Instead he just pulls forward again and slides arms around him, pulling him back into the embrace with his face pressed into the pulse of his neck, feeling the way it barely flutters against his breath. It's good to have you home, the gesture says. It's good to know you aren't dead somewhere I can't help. ]