“Maybe I’ll drop by and get a pen”? Fuck, that was some goddamn pathetic flirting. Jason was still rolling his eyes at himself for that one. The conversation had been going well before that, he was pretty sure. But then he had to go blurt that out. The fuck was wrong with him? First hot guy who walked into his class and Jason had to go say something stupid!
“Get your shit together, Kolchek,” he said out loud. He could still salvage this. He would go to Salim’s bookstore, browse around, and offer to buy Salim coffee when he got off work.
Jason stepped in feeling confident in his plan. The bookstore wasn’t overly busy that day: a few other shoppers were browsing around or sitting in one of the chairs leafing through books. There was soft instrumental music being played throughout the store speakers. Jason idly wandered around until he found some blank journals and notebooks for sale. He grabbed one at random.
“You know what would pair great with that?” a voice asked him. He recognized the low, accented voice at once and turned to see Salim. The older man was wearing a dark green button-down shirt and black slacks, and a lanyard around his neck. Salim smiled at Jason and answered his own question: “A pen.”
“No need to be a smart-ass,” Jason scolded, though a smile tugged on his lips.
“I’m pleased to see you again, Jason,” Salim told him. “I wish I could talk longer, but I need to get back to work. Unless you need help with a purchase?”
“Got any suggestions on which notebook I should buy?”
“Depends on what you want to use it for.” Salim started picking through them, opening them so Jason could examine the pages. “These would be better for sketching. This one is for someone who needs more structure in their journaling– see how it gives you a page per day? It’s self-reflection so it should be personalized toward you.”
Jason frowned; he had no idea there were so many different options when it came to journals. He hadn’t even been that interested in buying one, but now he felt he should take another look.
“I’ll leave you to browse.” Salim took a step back.
“Hey, wait. Do you, uh….” Shit, he was fumbling again. “When do you get off work?”
“In an hour.”
“Did you want to get some coffee?” Jason asked him. Salim looked a little startled but then his face brightened in a smile.
“Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Okay, cool. Cool.” Jason watched him wander off to help another customer. Fuck yeah, I nailed that!
context: jason tries to get salim flowers, but his chaotic wingmen swoop in and it's so cute.
Although this was Jason's idea, the look of absolute delight on Nick and Zain's faces as they strolled through the streets made the man rethink all of his previous decisions.
"Oh-ho, Jason, we're gonna get the best flowers. Just you watch." Nick excitedly assured him from where he was a few steps ahead with Zain.
The youngest out of the three nodded, "Fuck yeah! " before eagerly adding, "Dad, aren't we like the best wingmen?"
Jason's gonna have a long day.
-
Yesterday, just as Jason kissed and bid Salim goodbye for work- Jason himself having the night shift while his partner had the morning shift- Zain had lingered with the American in the kitchen, awkwardly standing with a cup of tea. The elder thought nothing of it, assuming the kid was just grabbing a drink before leaving to hang out with friends as he promised days prior, but he just stays there. Was he glued to the fucking floor? It wasn't till Jason had enough of the silence and put away his own steaming cup did Zain take a sip from his slowly cooling drink.
Jason raised a brow, staring at him. "Kid, you've got a bus to catch. There sumn' you need?"
"I was just looking at you, dad," Zain said.
"Well, Zain," Jason started, "You got that exact look in your eye when I was a kid 'n too much of a pussy to ask my folks permission for sumn'. That, and you've been standin' still like medusa glared at you. So quit starin' or tell me."
That got Zain's eyes to flicker away, taking a sip from his cup to alleviate his nerves. "So, I've been thinking," He began. "baba's been doing a lot recently and hasn't had much time outside of work." Jason hummed, encouraging him to continue as he grabbed his cup again. "And I know, I know, the holidays just ended, but I wanted to give him another gift."
"You implyin' the brand new washing machine and back massager wasn't enough for that old man?" Jason gave him a questioning look. "Kid, just like Santa ain't real, money don't grow on trees."
Zain's mouth opened and his hand shot up, looking like he was going to rebut him, but then clamps his mouth shut after a moment's consideration. "Don't get me wrong, my clothes and my back? Truly at their peak, no doubt. Have you smelled our clothes recently?" He rambled, going on about the game-changing jasmine scent his apparels had now. When he prattled like that mid-conversation, he really did resemble Salim: who knew being a chatterbox was hereditary? "...But! hear me out! I have a gut feeling baba would like this."
Jason took another sip of his coffee. "My wallet's feelin' pretty peeved, kid."
"It won't cost us much, I promise," Zain paused. "at least, compared to a whole ass appliance." At Jason's unwavering stare, he mumbled the last part meekly. "...I think."
"You think? " When Zain mutters something along the lines of well, I didn't fully pay attention when I saw it on the way from school, Jason sighed. "Spit out whatever the fuck it is and I'll decide whether or not I owe you more of those Monster Munches."
"Those crisps are good." He defended, ignoring the way Jason half-heartedly rolled his eyes. "Anyways, do you know much Latin?"
Jason's serious expression said everything Zain needed to know. Of-fucking-course he didn't. Besides his iconic line which meant 'always faithful', marine training really didn't include many in-depth language lessons and neither was that subject his highest score in school. So how the fuck did they convo-hop from gifts to Latin?
Zain raised a palm to stop any sound from coming out of Jason, correctly expecting a snarky response. "Message received, sorry dad, anyways. There's this flower shop I see every time I commute to school, yeah?"
Jason scowled, "You're makin' a fuss 'bout flowers? " But when Zain gives him a stare that urges him to listen, Jason relented and motioned for him to continue.
"Y'know that phrase you and baba always reference on cards and gifts and your Romeo-and-Juliet reminiscent letters-?"
"Get to the fuckin' point, kid."
"Shut up, dad," It's Zain's turn to give him a blank stare. "I'm the one stuck proofreading both sides of my parents' love story."
Jason sucked on his tongue in an attempt to bite back an insult- the brat was right, after all. The smartassery that ran in this family astonishes him to this day. Jason quoted himself, "The sword and the shield, that it?"
Zain nodded, "Exactly! That one! And one of the flowers they're selling at the shop, yeah? It's called Gladiolus."
"I'm guessin' this is Latin for sumn' important."
Zain's cup of tea was most likely lukewarm in his hold, completely forgotten as the kid perked up. "Exactly! Gladiolus derives from the Latin word 'gladius', meaning sword, hence the flower's nickname of 'sword lily'- Also because its leaves look like blades. You might recognise it from the word 'gladiator'. Pretty cool stuff."
Jason tilted his head. "I think I know where you're goin' with this."
"Sword and shield, you and baba always say!" A smile starts to grow on Zain's face. "Baba has been missing his garden from back home, too, so I thought besides some vegetables like he used to grow, we should get him Gladiolus starts, if not seeds." Zain continued his pitch. "It is practical, visually-pleasing and meaningful- three in one!" To top it off, the kid even put aside his ignored tea to make jazz hands and a look that said am I not a genius?
Jason chugged the last of his coffee, placed his mug in the sink, before leaning against it, weighing the idea.
Zain did tick off all the right points; Jason easily remembers both the first time he saw the Othmans' home in Iraq, even if it was brief, and a throw-away comment Salim once made about how empty the land on their lot looked; Salim's cooking was absolutely fucking spectacular already and was one of the father's go-to hobbies outside of work, wouldn't hurt to give him another hobby; and besides, flowers looked nice, right?
Jason peered out their kitchen where it overlooked the porch and their front gate; the new grass looking rather dull beside the lone tree on their yard. Perhaps this was a sign to actually put some colour on their land; make their house the home Jason strived to make it the minute he promised to love Salim as his partner and love Zain as if he were his own. Wouldn't a flower that literally meant a sword be a perfect addition to his mission?
The kid looked like he was holding his breath. Jason didn't realise he had started to mirror Zain's ecstatic smile by the time he spoke up. "Salim's got a shift that lasts from seven to seven tomorrow..." Jason started.
Normally, such a long and tiring shift would equally annoy the American as much as it irritated the Iraqi, but right now, it felt like the perfect opportunity. The man's imagination ran with it: Salim walking in tired from work, just them two at home, and he pulls out a fetching bouquet of whatever the fuck these flowers looked like. Jason considered his best friend to be more of the romantic type between them, but after imagining Salim's face lighting up at Jason, he felt like he could get behind the romanticism. What can he say? Salim's got a fuckin' amazin' smile.
"Get ready by eleven o'clock tomorrow- brunch on me, we do some errands, and we check out this flower shop you're talkin' 'bout." He finished.
Zain rejoiced a small yes! as he narrowly misses smacking his cup. He beamed at him. "We are for sure going to my favourite cafe for brunch. This is a great idea, dad, I swear."
Jason chuckled, "Yeah yeah, it better be 'cause this is coming outta my funds." He then motioned to the clock on the wall. "What time's your bus?"
"My bus-?" Zain echoed. His eyes widened and recognition dawned on his face before he whipped towards the clock. He cursed something in Arabic, suddenly dashing towards his room. "I just missed it!" As he made a commotion in his room, probably hastily grabbing his things, Jason assumes the kid didn't realise he was talking for so long. He heard another string of harsh words Jason didn't fully understand, despite being muffled by his bedroom walls.
"You've got your daddy's brains and his ramblin'. You're his spitting image, Zain!" Jason shouted, teasing.
"Daaaaad! " was Zain's whine. He finally skids out his room, his duffel bag of what Jason assumed was soccer gear hauled over his shoulder. "Give me a ride, please, I don't wanna wait another half an hour for the bus."
"You ought to know how to manage your time, kid." Jason said.
Zain groaned. "But you're my dad."
He scoffed. "'N so?"
Zain raised his eyebrows and pulled a face as if he just put the final nail in the coffin. "...You're my cool dad."
For a few moments, it's just Jason and Zain in a silent stare-off till Jason finally gives in. The American grabs Zain's abandoned cup of tea, its lingering aroma telling him it's Assam tea, and places it in the fridge should ever Zain decide he wants to make milk tea with it. Jason then made his way over to the kid, snatching his car keys in the process. "Toss me my cap."
A wide grin is back on Zain's face as he seizes Jason's cap on the coat rack, frisbee-ing it in his direction. To his pleasure, the cap's directory is perfectly straight and Jason catches it with one hand, putting it on. Jason grinned back with praise, "Good throw, kid. Y'know, if you get sick of soccer, Nick's a pretty big geek for baseball. Think you'd be a natural at it."
Zain laughed, following close behind Jason as they headed out the front door. "We should invite uncle Nick! Perhaps spend time with him before he leaves for America."
It was barely a week after New Year and Nick and the gang had visited Jason and his family in London to spend the holidays with them, meaning, his best friend would be leaving back to America in a few days. He is his best friend, and perhaps some advice from Nick would do him some good. It wouldn't hurt to get some help, right?
-
Jason definitely did not have enough sleep or coffee for this adventure.
He had slept in, coming home late due to his night shift, and just barely drifting in and out of consciousness when Salim kissed his forehead way too early in the morning. It was a blur in his memory, but he could still vaguely envision Salim's gentle eyes gazing at his sleep-drunk form, could still feel the ghost of Salim's hand as it cradled Jason's cheek, and he could still recall his lover's voice telling him to get some rest, okay? I love you, habibi, in the sweetest voice Jason has ever heard someone say to him. If Jason really wanted to, he could close his eyes and feel the whisper of Salim's lips against the base of his throat. Right now, though, he was in public, and visually getting excited over fantasizing about his lover wasn't exactly an enticing idea.
Luckily for Jason, he had woken up half an hour before he instructed Zain to get ready, but not luckily enough since Zain was still in the shower at the time. After a few minutes and a half-assed threat targeted in the bathroom's direction, the boy came out of the room with a guilty expression, saying, "What? Don't look at me like that- you're the pragmatic one. I thought you woke up earlier to shower!"
They rush to get ready before the time they promised to meet up with Nick, and that time constraint forced Jason to skip out on coffee in favour of picking up Nick from his hotel on time. After parking the car, the trio finally made their way over to the café Zain was fussing about, Jason allowing the mini-chatterbox to entertain his best friend as he closed his eyes, crossed his arms and leaned back against his side of the booth. He made sure to stay attentive, both to their conversation and the possible sound of the waiter and his coffee which he was desperate to have if he was going to spend the next few hours with the two balls of energy in front of him.
"You guys dragged me here, from my hotel room, for... flowers?" Nick asked. "What's so special about these flowers?" Jason could easily imagine his perplexed expression.
"As you know, we already got my baba a washing machine and a back massager, but! There's this flower shop I see every time I go home..."
At the beginning of Zain's Gladiolus rant, Jason decided it was the perfect time to zone out.
-
A couple of hours had passed and the group had just finished the majority of their errands: some school supplies that Zain needed, extra tools and gizmos for both future house repairs and the future garden he planned to build for Salim, and even drove a bit to show Nick the family's favourite Asian grocery since he mentioned wanting to buy him and the gang some snacks for when they travelled. As they waved goodbye to Aunty Chesa and Uncle Coco, the old Filipino couple that ran the massive store, Zain was helping Nick carry two of the five bags of snacks Nick just impulse bought.
Jason whistled low at the sight of all the bags, giving him an unimpressed comment. "Nicky, am I supposed to expect you devour all of this? By yourself?"
Zain weighed each bag as they walked off. "These are pretty heavy, uncle Nick, you must have been hungry."
"Hey!" Nick argued. "In my defence, this is for three people."
Jason gave him a look. "And did any of those three people tell you to buy you a shit ton of them wafer sticks?"
Zain counted under his breath as he peered into one of the bags he was holding, piping up once he finished, "I counted six tubs. I think you wrung the store's supply pretty low."
Nick let out an annoyed sound, whining something about why am I getting ganged up on by my best friend and his kid? "Eric's always stealing from my shit, man, I'm just taking precautions- besides, Stick-O is the holy grail, and the place's a fucking bargain." was his explanation. The tallest of the three then nods towards the full bag Jason was holding in one hand, his turn to give him an accusatory glare. "What the fuck is that then?"
It was a bag of some of the sweets Zain wanted but mainly more of the tea brands and specific snacks Salim really enjoyed. Jason can explicitly envision the look of pleasant surprise Salim always gives him when he buys it; how peaceful his lover looks against the morning sun as he has his tea, and when Salim turns towards Jason, how golden hours make him look ethereal, add sparkle in those dark brown eyes that give the illusion of gold and- Jason was going to start spewing glitter and hearts if he kept thinking.
Basically, it makes Salim happy, so it makes Jason happy. Perhaps he is guilty of buying a bit more than normal, though. He looked away, feeling the tips of his ears go warm as Nick laughed, and grit out. "Jackass, can a man not do his errands in peace?"
As they neared the car, their bantering now going off about the 'appropriate snack intake', a rumbling in Jason's pocket grabs his attention. He pulled out his phone, sees the caller name, and immediately straightens up his posture as if Salim was right in front of him. He grabs Zain's attention before handing him the car keys and bag in his hand, motioning towards the boot of the car.
Zain immediately picked up on the instructions, nodding, before giving a questioning glance to Jason's phone. "It's your dad," He confirmed before accepting the call, watching as Zain started to put away the bags. "Darlin'?" Jason flat out ignored the suggestive looked Nick sent his way.
"Habibi! " was Salim's response, a smile evident in his tone. "Are you still out with Zain and Nick? Are you doing well? "
Jason can't stop the dopey grin from growing on his face, "'S great! Just finishin' some errands with'em. Aunty Chesa and Uncle Coco say hi, by the way, said the food you gave'em last time was hella masarap." Jason relayed the message, despite butchering the fuck out of the Tagalog.
There's a soft chuckle over the line. "I'll make sure to cook extra the next time we visit, then. Thank you for telling me, Jason."
Jason reassured him it was fine. "Also, how's work? Break time already?" He risks a glance behind him and at the sight of the immature expression Nick was giving him, he turned back around. He asked, "Still ought to wait till seven to see your silly face, do I?"
"Ah, yes! That's what I called to tell you- I have good news! "
"Gonna keep me at the edge of my seat, Salim, or what?" Jason can't help but grin at the excitement in his lover's voice.
"I'm getting off work early! Someone came in to take up the night shift," The man explained. "I will not need to close up shop. This is great news."
This was not great news.
Jason immediately whirled around to give Nick and Zain a panicked look which the two returned, albeit confused as to why they were panicked. "Jesus Christ, yeah, fuck, hmm-" Jason tried to say but just clamped his mouth shut. "Woah. " Holy fuck was he the shittiest liar in the world.
To his benefit, Salim mistook his stuttering as delighted stupefaction, laughing on his end of the line. "Cat got your tongue, Jason? Do I get you that excited? "
The American was so ready to self combust.
I mean, Jason thought as he sent Zain a signal with his eyes, Salim's not necessarily wrong- just excited for different reasons. Zain's brows furrowed, whispering, "What do you want me to do? "
Jason dashed over to the open boot of the car, feigning a sound of effort as if he was hauling something. "Christ almighty is your shit heavy, Nick," He pulled the phone far enough away from his face as he mouthed the words talk to your dad! in Zain's direction. He brings his phone closer once more. "Gimme a second, sweetheart, I need to put some of the bags away. Y'know, shopping bags, bags of shopping, yeah-" He gave up and shoves the phone into Zain's hands instead.
The boy gave him one last look of alarm before responding to his father in Arabic, easily slipping into a conversation about errands and taking Nick sightseeing. As Jason sighed, running a hand to rub his eyes, Nick settles beside him with a shit-eating grin.
"Don't tell me you still repeat shit when you lie. Are you that easy, Jason?"
"I am not easy, Nick," Jason argued. "not my fault you two have fuckin' magic ears."
"So you chuck the phone to your kid instead?" Nick snickered at him, rustling for one of the wafer stick tubs he bought. "Don't tell me an eighteen-year-old can fib better than yo- hey hey hey quit it!" He leaned far to his side so Jason couldn't knock the tub out of his hands, shooting him a dirty look. "Hands off, Lieutenant!"
"Fuck you." Jason replied, relenting his attack to allow his best friend to open the tub. He eyed it for a second before adding, "Actually, un-fuck you, gimme one."
"Fucking hypocrite."
Jason spat back. "Dumb lookin' boonie hat wearer."
Nick attempts to elbow Jason straight in the stomach but the man anticipates the jab, sniggering like an ass as he dodges it. "My hat stays out of this, permanent cap hair."
His best friend hands him one stick anyway despite their jesting. Jason bickered. "I ain't the one who's had a shaved head since he was twenty cause he's scared of balding yet he be lookin' like a fuckin' eg-" Jason steps to the side, narrowly missing a projectile aimed at him. He still finishes his quip with a smug grin. "Egg head."
When Zain finishes his phone call with Salim, he turns his attention back to the two men to see Jason with a wafer stick in his mouth, giggling like an asshole, while running away from Nick who was also chasing after him with his tub in one arm.
Zain shouted, "Dad! Uncle! Baba said he finishes work in an hour and invited uncle Nick to come if you're free for dinner at our place!"
That gets both of the Americans to stop dead in their tracks and Jason panics once more. An hour wasn't a long time when they had a decent drive to get to the florist, pick out what they needed, and pick Salim up from his job. The two men glanced at each other to declare a silent truce before jogging back to the car, Jason quickly swallowing the wafer stick on his way.
"Plan's moved up by like, an easy couple hours," Nick piped up, way more nonchalant than Jason was at the moment, and offered Zain a wafer stick. "no biggie, right?"
Zain gratefully takes one. "If we drive now, we can quickly grab the vegetable seeds and the flowers before baba's shift is done." And while still chewing, he tells Nick with a thumbs up that thish ish reeree yumee.
Nick pulled back to the car to put away his snack as Jason slammed the boot shut before accepting his phone from Zain. Jason hopped into the driver's side, "Get in, kid, we're goin' all fast-n-furious if we wanna get those flowers."
Zain bounds over to the backseat as Nick asked from the passenger side. "You know how to drive yet, Zain?"
The father and son share a look through the rear-view mirror. Zain had tried driving before, sure, he was at university and would find it handy to know how to drive himself to and from school. Recent driving endeavours of Jason trying to teach the kid left... unfavourable outcomes, so when Salim found out, he banned Jason from 'showing Zain the ropes' for at least a month. It was safe to say the student wouldn't do the driver's test for a while.
Jason cleared his throat. Zain feigned nonchalance, answering. "You could say that."
-
With Jason's own human encyclopedia spitting facts in the backseat, over the car ride, he has learned that the Gladiolus needed good drainage and plenty of sunlight- a bit hard to come by in a country as constantly chilly as England, but if marine training has taught him anything, it's to make do with what he's got. He deduced that he's going to somehow have to keep the soil a balance of moist yet never flooded, in full sun whenever possible. A bit ambitious, but maybe he could even make a humble greenhouse for Salim with all the space they have in their backyard.
In Zain's predictions, they were five minutes away from the flower shop. "They come in a rainbow of colours- red, yellow, purple, and more," Zain explained. He leaned over the driver's hand rest in the centre of the car to peer at Jason. "Dad, what colour do you think we should pick for baba?"
He thought about it; Salim tended to have a bit of theme for greens and earthy tones in his belongings, but he's also never fully disclosed if he's biased for any particular hue, either. To Jason, though, Salim gave him the feeling of warmer and brighter tones, if his cheery nature was anything to go by.
"Red's a classic," Nick said.
"Red might be way too cheesy. Maybe a yellow? " Jason thought out loud. "We'll worry 'bout that later. Worst comes to worst, we get every colour of seed."
Eventually, Zain tells them to stop in front of a shop with a massive expanse of flowers on the front's display, its name on a banner saying Titania's Garden. Jason thinks he's driven past it, for sure, just never took the time to stop by and check it before.
"Okay, I'm no botanist, not gonna lie to you." Nick began as the trio got out of the car. "The most intimate experience I got with flowers is whenever I visited my mum's home and she has all these coralillos- these pretty red flowers that come in like, bunches- but if my old ass nana can take care of them flowers, surely your sorry ass can, too, Jason."
"That's a wordy way to say fuck you, for one," Jason directed at Nick, then turned towards Zain, "Kid, how much time till we gotta pick up Salim?"
The boy checked his watch. "It's quarter past three." Forty-five minutes till Salim's shift was over. "Dad, are you still buying me more Monster Munches if baba likes it?"
"If Salim loves it," Jason said as they walked in the shop, a tiny bell acknowledging their entry, "I'll help you convince him to buy you a second-hand car for your birthday."
-
Jason was, for sure, going to have his work cut out for him.
A good bloke, Seb, had tended to them when the trio asked about Gladioli and the other available vegetable seeds. The assistant directed them near the front of the store where the flowers were and Jason had to admit- they were hella pretty. The Gladiolus flowers themselves, as Zain said, came in every colour of the rainbow and had a myriad of designs on them ranging from soft, transitioning gradients to stark, flamboyant patterns. These blooms would trace the blade-like leaves that shot upright and straight, almost as if the flowers were decorating swords. For a few seconds, Jason let himself stare and appreciate the flowers, hoping in the back of his mind that Salim would like them, too.
After some deliberation between him, Nick and Zain, Jason decided to get a seed mix of all the different colours, that it would spruce up their future garden lots once they bloomed in the spring. And for the bouquet to give Salim that afternoon, his eyes landed on one of the simpler Gladioli; straight green blades like the rest, but the flowers were a mix of white buds, yellow and light peach ones that had a white gradient near its edges.
He requested green wrapping for it, to which Zain praised the colour, "Sage green! Baba will like it lots." Whatever the hell sage green was. It got the boy's approval and Nick's, too, so that was a good sign.
As the assistant ran to the back with the promise of vegetable and Gladioli seeds, Jason weighed the bouquet in his hands almost awkwardly, making sure not to wrinkle its simple but elegant wrapping. The centre of the bouquet even had a bit of a custom ribbon per Zain's suggestion, the ribbon saying their iconic line, the line that inspired this whole fiasco: for you, the sword to my shield.
He had to be such a big fuckin' sap to find his heart thumping out of his chest at the thought of giving this to Salim. And even more so for vividly imagining the smile he'd get from him.
Jason was used to helping Salim and Zain, accustomed to being the family fixer or plumber or chef or whatever the hell they needed him to be- he would do it in a heartbeat. What he couldn't say with his shitty eloquence with words, he'd express it in action. Perhaps, one could consider the garden, and maybe even the mini greenhouse, a practical gift for the whole family, just like the new washing machine and the back massager. But, as Jason fiddled with the embroidered ribbon, his cheeks slowly getting warmer by the minute, he found himself oddly nervous.
How happy could a bunch of flowers make Salim, anyway? Jason's pragmatic brain supplied.
Somewhere else though, something much softer and much kinder answered back, 'Course he'd be happy- it's because it's you. As long as it's you.
Jason decided he liked that second thought much more.
"Apologies for the wait!" Seb reappeared from the back, a crate that held an assortment of different seeds in his arms. "Some of the seeds have a knack for hiding, apparently."
Seeing that they spent long enough in the store, Jason had ushered Zain and Nick away to warm up the car, Nick offering to carry the crate while Zain took the car keys and the bouquet. Jason shouted after him, "Watch the damn flowers, kid!"
Just as the American was paying, the assistant piped up once with a teasing smile. "Quite romantic, man, buying your special someone vegetable seeds."
Jason let out a small laugh. "'N who says this is for my special someone?"
They shrugged. "Just a guess, if that ribbon hinted at anything. Seems quite romantic to me."
Jason pocketed his wallet and paused at the door of the shop to look behind him, "This your way of makin' me leave a good review?"
"Eh, that's one interpretation," They said before giving Jason an encouraging look. "Ease up, man, I bet whoever you're gifting this too will love it, especially since you're doing all this effort for them. When words don't work," They motioned towards the store's vast selection, "flowers can do it for you."
Jason tipped his cap towards the assistant one last time before walking out.
-
Outside the flower shop, Jason's pleased to see Zain had already started the engine and Nick was manoeuvring around the shopping in the boot of the car. When the American slides into the driver's seat, a small poke on the shoulder from Zain grabs his attention. He sent him a questioning look, watching as the kid seemed to contemplate his words.
"Uhh, thank you, dad, for listening to my suggestion," Zain said after a few seconds of fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie. "not going to lie, I was a bit scared you would shoot the idea down."
Jason immediately shifted in his seat so that he was facing the backseats as much as he could from the driver's spot, his expression serious. "Kiddo, why would I shoot you down?"
Zain grimaced. "Just, you know, thought you would find it silly. I was a bit worried you would ignore what I said, since I talk, then I keep talking-" He explained, "I know- I'm overthinking it, you already told me-"
The elder playfully nudges him in the arm to stop him from going on, and when Zain looks up, Jason's there offering a small smile. "You talk a lot, okay, and? What did I tell you?"
"That you would listen to me no matter what?" was Zain's slow response.
Jason's mouth pulls into a grin, reaching up to ruffle Zain's hair which gets a complaint out of him. "Atta' boy." He pulls his hand back to make a fist. "What else do I always say? 'Bout bein' faithful?"
Zain fist bumps him with a grin of his own. "Semper fucking fi."
"Oorah! "
The father and son jump at the sound of Nick's excited shout as he slides into the passenger seat, a cheeky grin on his face. "I heard semper fi, did I miss something?"
Zain laughed as he put his seatbelt on and Jason shook his head, ignoring Nick's question of what? What did I do?
For a brief moment, Jason's nerves eased.
-
Oh-fuckin'-Christ-almighty were the nerves back. They had just parked the car and were waiting a couple of metres down the street from the bookstore Salim worked at, Salim having called them to say he was just doing some last-minute clean-up.
"Dad, you could wear nothing and baba would still love you," Zain said after Jason fussed about his apparel.
Nick chimed in. "Bet your ass he'd want nothing on you." Jason flicks Nick's arm. "Ow!"
It really didn't help that Zain was edging his best friend on, continuing, "Baba likes dad's ass."
"Clearly!" Nick agreed, rubbing the spot on his arm, "Salim even made Jason your dad. Jason out of all peo..."
Jason groaned, bouquet in one hand as he rubbed at his face, too distracted to notice the way his best friend trailed off and was staring at something past him. "Okay, sergeant, shut the fuck up or 'm gonna shove that boonie hat of yours so far up yo-"
With no comment at all, Nick grabbed Zain's arm and yanked the confused boy into a nearby coffee shop, the man giving Jason one last cheeky grin and thumbs up before scurrying away with him. Did my best friend just kidnap my son?
A string of curses are at the tip of Jason's tongue as he turns around, trying to see whatever the fuck Nick ran away for-
There, rounding the corner of the street was no other than Salim, his favourite green scarf wrapped snuggly around his neck, his coat buttoned to the top and his work bag hanging off one shoulder. Dark brown eyes search the storefronts then eventually catch the man's eyes and Jason's trying to hide the bouquet behind him and holy motherfucking shi-
Salim's face, even from a fair distance away, is so clear in Jason's vision. Vaguely, he can see the puffs of breath in the winter air, the small dust of blush adorning his cheeks and nose from the cold and the smile he's been imagining the moment he left for work in the morning. It's the fond call of his name that gets him to snap out of his trance.
"Jason!"
The American gulped, trying to even his breathing as he watched Salim wave at him. "Shit, Salim, hey, uhh, didn't see you there...?"
Jason was abso-fuckin-lutely stupefied. Great start.
The Iraqi stops right in front of him, leaving very little room between them and that just worsens the heat on Jason's face, making him glance away. Salim's eyes glance down to Jason's hidden hands but just smiles with a raised brow. "You got something there for me, habibi?" And as he tries to manoeuvre around Jason, he steps to the side, hiding the bouquet. The action makes Salim chuckle. "Allah, what in the world are you trying to hide from me?"
Salim moved again and so does Jason. It's almost comedic. Salim full-on laughs this time. "Jason, show me what's in your hands."
Deciding to fuck it, fuck you too, Nick, for ditching me here, Jason pushes the Gladioli bouquet into Salim's arms. The man lets out a startled noise and Jason turns his body away, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.
Salim blinked at the bouquet in his hands. "Jason... Did you get this," He turns it around in his hands, observing it. "for me?"
"These, uhh, Gladiolus flowers Zain mentioned, said the name meant sword, so- I just, you mentioned wantin' a garden then- I thought-" Jason just shut himself up. He wasn't as fancy or as concise as Salim was with words. He exhaled a shaky breath. "...yeah, they're for you."
"Jason, look at me," Salim called him, but Jason's stubborn and is still staring at the side. He can hear the smile in Salim's voice as he repeated himself, "Jason!"
Jason relented, scowling, "Okay, geez, what-"
When he turns his head, suddenly, Salim's right there waiting for him with his lips against his. Jason's real grateful that he wasn't holding the bouquet, cause if he was, he would've dropped it at the way his mind blanked. Jason's eyes are still open when Salim pulls away, a soft expression just as Jason imagined yesterday on his face. His smile looked even more stunning than he envisioned him.
The bouquet is held in one arm as the other cups Jason's face. The action makes Jason's arms shoot up to settle on Salim's hips, pulling them even closer as he stares at Salim's lips for one beat more before diving in again, this time, closing his eyes and kissing him hard. Salim tilts his head to accommodate and a small sound of appreciation makes itself known, enticing Jason to kiss him even more-
Jason almost whines- but he won't tell him that- when Salim pulls back, just far enough to smile at him, caressing his cheek gently. Salim says, "Thank you very much for the flowers." Jason's glad he practised his Arabic with Zain and Salim for nights on end, thus allowing him to make out pieces of what Salim was saying. "They are beautiful, almost as beautiful as you, habibi."
Jason scoffed at the 'beautiful' part but eyed Salim's lips again. "Can I get another kiss as thanks?"
Salim's laugh is deep and rumbling and fond and everything else Jason loves. "As much as you want."
Jason only gets a chaste kiss in before a booming cheer erupts to their side, startling the couple.
"Fuck yeah, Salim! Go get that dick!" Nick hollered, cupping his hands to make himself even louder. "Nice smooth talk, Jason!"
Zain walked out beside him, a tray of drinks in his hand. His greeting wasn't as loud, but equally enthusiastic, "Uncle Nick and I got some drinks! Keep us warm before we start dinner!"
Salim lets out a bark of laughter and Jason groaned, but his lips twitch upward despite it all.
Now, both in their garden and on their tables, you'll be sure to find hints of the Gladioli adorning the household. Plus, one of Jason's newest favourite pieces in the house is the vase that Zain painted an intricate shield onto, assuring them every day that wherever the sword stands, its shield is sure to follow.
-
the art that i made that inspired this fic :D --> gladiolus
Salim felt his heart skip a nervous beat as the twin doors opened for him. He straightened his back and forced his feet to move forward. The foyer was quiet and he kept his eyes forward so he wouldn’t have to see the gouges in the tiled floor or the broken furniture that had gathered dust. The village’s stories of the cursed one’s anger had prepared him for this but it still made him tremble.
“I have come for the life of my son,” he spoke out loud. “Please let him go and take me instead.” He waited, keeping his breathing slow and measured. After a moment Zain came running out from a side room.
[Baba!] he cried. He threw himself at his father. [Baba!] Salim pushed his son back and swept over the boy’s body. He saw no cuts or bruises, no signs of any torture.
[Allah be praised, you’re okay.]
[Baba, please don’t do this. There has to be some other way.]
[It will be all right,] Salim soothed him. He pushed his son back more toward the still open doors. [They promised me you’ll get home safely. I love you, Zain.]
[Baba, no!] But he had already crossed the threshold. The doors closed, cutting Salim off from his son. He closed his eyes and let out a breath. He could bear this for Zain’s sake.
He could hear noise behind him but didn’t turn around yet. The noise grew louder, something bounding down the stairs in great leaps. A soft thud as the cursed one landed, then snuffling as it smelled the air.
“NICKY!!” The word was more of a roar than a human yell.
“What is it?” another voice responded.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“He’s the one who volunteered to stay. The one whose son we caught a few days ago.”
“He’s from the village?” the first voice confirmed. “Fuck, Nicky, he’s one of them.” This had to be the cursed one speaking. The voice carried a strange accent to it, and so much rage. Salim still did not dare to turn around. “Just tie him up,” the cursed one snarled. “I don’t want to fuckin’ deal with him.”
“Jason, he came here voluntarily,” the voice belonging to Nicky reminded the cursed one. Salim twitched hearing the name. Jason? It was such an ordinary name for the cursed one. “He’s not hostile.”
“Yeah, right. Tie him up.” The footsteps retreated and it was only when he heard a door slam that Salim finally turned around. The one called Nicky was standing nearby. He was human once like the cursed one, but he had been changed. His skin was more like wax now, his eyes flickering like firelight. When he expelled a frustrated sigh a puff of smoke escaped his lips.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. He pulled on some thick gloves and pulled Salim’s hands behind his back.
“I knew what I was doing when I agreed to come here.”
“Did you?” Nicky bound Salim’s wrists together and tugged to make sure the rope held firm. “Because I’m not sure. Your son is safe, but you’ll never see him again.”
“I understand,” Salim assured the strange wax man.
“You’re a brave man.” Nicky gently pushed him to start walking forward. “You’re going to need that.”
(a/n: I love doing fairy tale re-tellings and Beauty & the Beast is one of my favorites. Hope you like this!)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 10/10
Fandom: The Dark Pictures: House of Ashes (Video Game)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Jason Kolchek/Salim Othman, Nick Kay/Eric King/Rachel King
Characters: Salim Othman, Jason Kolchek, Eric King, Nick Kay, Rachel King, Dar Basri, Kurum (Dark Pictures), Original Characters, Zain Othman
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Jason is gonna get force fed some character development, Character Development, Everyone Is Alive, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Occasional fluff, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Period Typical Attitudes, it’s the early 2000s and Jason is Mr Big Patriot over here, He gets better, Salim also references some bigoted attitudes as well, Period Typical Bigotry, Getting Together, First Kiss, First Time
Summary:
In a game of choices, one was left out.
Let’s add it back in, shall we?
(AKA: The fic where Salim decides to ally with the Americans a few chapters ahead of schedule)
context: salim loves telling those he cherishes 'i love you'. and even though people like zain and jason aren't as vocal as he is, they show love in their own way. domestic fluff ensues.
They had just finished washing the dishes when the father and son decide to head in for the night.
"Zain! " Salim called out.
His boy had been on his way to his room, presumably to study for the exam he had the day after if not sleep. Zain turned around, answering in Arabic. "Yes, baba? "
"You'll do amazing tomorrow, I know it," Salim assured him, having just listened to his son grumble about his school's workload over dinner. A small smile made its way onto Salim's face as he said, "get some rest. I love you."
Zain's arms went up to stretch, yawning, before turning back around. "Thank you, baba. Sweet dreams."
At his place leaning against the kitchen doorframe, Salim crosses his arms and calls out again, this time with a teasing lilt to his voice. "Zain,"
The boy mentioned doesn't even turn around this time, his only indication of acknowledgement being a sleepy hum. It's only when his dad repeats his name twice does he actually pause at the doorway of his room. "Yes? "
Salim can already anticipate his son's reaction. "I love you." And when Zain groans, anticipating where his dad was going with this, Salim's smile turns into a smirk.
Salim repeated himself. "I love you, Zain."
"You just told me to get some rest."
"I did, yes," Salim agreed. "But I also said I love you."
"Baba," Zain whined, "I have an exam tomorrow. I need sleep."
Salim would be a hypocrite if he said he didn't find amusement in Zain's growing exasperation. Call him a dad, but his boy's tired glare only spurred him on further. Teenager temper, as entertaining as always. "You will sleep, after you say it back. I love you."
At the sight of his dad mockingly mouthing the words I love you to him from the start of the hallway, as if Zain was an infant all over again and was motivating his son to say his first words, Zain looked about done. "You are dreadful, baba."
Salim bit back a snort. "Say you love me back, Zain."
Zain's quick with his "No."
"Yes, you will."
"No, I won't." Zain grimaced. "That's the fifth time you said it."
Salim's determined. "Make it six; I love you, Zain."
Frustrated, Zain sighed. "Will you let me go if I say it back? "
The man's demeanour immediately perked up, triumph evident in his expression. There's a playful glint in his eye as he feigns consideration, staring to the side as if he was mulling it over. "Hmm, maybe. If you say it back, I will consider..." But at Zain's protest of baba! Salim's facade instantly crumbles, laughing as he opens up his arms in invitation. "If you don't wish to say it back, give me a hug."
Although he was muttering something about you do this every time, baba, Zain makes his way over to Salim regardless. Once he embraces him, deadweight in his hold, Salim laughs again at the instant change in behaviour. His boy has always been a hugger. "Okay, done. Can I go sleep now? " is Zain's muffled question, head slumped against his dad's shoulder.
He presses a kiss to the crown of his head before nodding, satisfaction plastered all over his smile. He chuckled softly. "I love you very much, too, my boy." Zain begins another incoherent rant against his shoulder, most likely complaining a mix about his dad and his upcoming exam, yet despite his apparent dislike, he wraps his arms snuggly around his dad like always. It's a warmth that Salim cherishes dearly and it makes him hug him tighter.
Zain was absolutely right, though- Salim does do this every time. Even in Salim's own rebellious days and the epochs of his life when he was far less compliant with any and every order given to him, he had always expressed himself through words. From immersing himself in his books as a kid and later redeveloping his love for text and learning after wishing to be a good role model for Zain, portraying his love and his mind with words was his go-to. The words I love you just always fell easily off his tongue: never once regretting how often he told his loved ones how he felt.
Zain tended to call this habit embarrassing, perhaps a bit of a flashback from Salim shouting it on the few days he dropped his son off at school. His primary or high school days were equally unsafe from his dad's wrath.
Salim liked to call it endearing and, well, maybe a little funny.
They stay like that for a while, Salim allowing his son to lean against his shoulder in their embrace, mentally relishing in the fact he was still slightly taller than his son. At the rate this boy's growing, he will likely pass me by soon, is Salim's fond thought. The radio plays in the background, and Salim thinks, he doesn't need his son to tell him he loves him as often as he does. His son's love comes in the form of Zain collapsing into his dad's arms through sob-filled conversations and shaky nights; in the way Zain drapes himself over Salim's back when the latter reads something and he wanted a peek; the small pat on Salim and Jason's heads when Zain's too exhausted to talk but still wished to assure his parents he appreciated them for dinner; and like now, when Zain trusted himself completely in his dad's arms after a draining day. This was his I love you, Salim knew, and it got him through the stormiest and most turbulent of days.
It meant more than words could ever convey.
Another one of Salim's I love you's and Zain's annoyed but harmless flick on the shoulder later, he finally shows mercy to release him to let him sleep. Zain's door closes and Salim sighs, glancing at the wall clock. Nine o'clock and Jason still wasn't home.
Hours prior, at seven o'clock in the evening and Salim was contemplating what he should cook for dinner with their limited supply of ingredients, he received a text from his lover that he had to stay overtime at work. Of course, Salim would never be mad at Jason for doing so, sometimes his company truly demanded more help and even the father himself has days when he spends an obnoxious amount of hours for work, but Jason's late-night shifts have been going on throughout the whole month now. Meaning, it's been on-and-off whether or not Salim and Zain would see the American for dinner, with some days the teenager staying up a bit just to greet him with his dad when he got home. On days like this, though, Zain himself would be too tired from school and resign early, leaving Salim alone as he finds whatever activity to keep himself awake. It also didn't help when Jason came home fatigued out of his mind on said nights, forcing the older to make sure he had some form of nutrition before sleeping. If Salim's own work wasn't tiring, this inconsistent cycle of not having enough time with his family made it even more so. Salim's still surprised he hasn't stormed Jason's work to complain about it himself.
He doesn't realise he had almost dozed off on the couch till the sound of their front door opening snaps him out of his daze. Salim adjusts his robe, suppressing a yawn as he makes his way over. He tentatively called, "Jason?"
Peering out of the room, Salim doesn't deny the way his own shoulders ease at the sight of his lover at the doorway; jacket halfway off broad shoulders, his signature cap still on his head like always, and even with the signs of bags and lack of sleep under his eyes, there's a warmth and sweetness in Jason's eyes that look at Salim like he can't take his eyes off him. Always looking at him as if Salim held the world in his hands. And when that ardour gaze lands on him, it unconsciously brings a fond expression onto Salim's face. He would never get sick of seeing the way his man looked at him.
Salim's about to jest at how late it was getting before his eyes fall onto the reusable bags piling around Jason's feet which he guessed was groceries. Had he stayed out longer just to buy them?
Jason greeted him. "Salim, hey, Zain asleep already?"
Salim nodded. "Has an exam tomorrow, he was grumbling about it all night. In his words, his professor has a stick up his-" Salim omits the word ass, pretending the word was way too crude to be said.
That made Jason laugh softly, and the expression makes the man look a bit younger than he truly was. It added creases near his eyes, a smile on his face and softness to his features, and all of that made Salim stare at every detail till he could remember it eternally. "He'll smash it outta the park. He's a bright kid- definitely got that from you."
The small compliment makes Salim take a step forward to help take Jason's jacket off, arms lingering on strong arms as he does so. The action doesn't go unnoticed by the American and Salim almost forgets he was going to scold him. "Is that your way of flattering me? To stop me from giving you an earful tonight?" He asked playfully.
One of Salim's hands that lazed on the man's arm trails down till Jason intertwines their hands, shrugging his jacket off with the other. From how close they were, Salim could see their puffs of breath in the English winter air. "I mean, never said I didn't like the sound of your voice. Although, if my sweet talk's workin'..."
Salim chuckles softly at that but breaks their hold to rub at his arms, the front door of their home still open, letting the cold night air in. Jason's eyes immediately flicker down to catch it and his expression drops into a scowl. "Shit, Salim, get back inside-" Jason ushered him, haphazardly hanging his jacket on the nearby coat rack before reaching for one of the bags on the ground. "-it's cold as shit outside and all you've got is that flimsy ass robe. No wonder you're freezin'."
The man feigns offence, defending his robe, "Hey! I like this robe, it's perfectly fine." He reaches a hand towards the bags. "But here, Jason, let me help you."
Jason grabs all four bags of groceries before Salim could grab any of them, grunting at the effort, but he doesn't relent. "Fuck no. I'll carry'em, don't worry 'bout it."
Salim rolls his eyes but listens anyway, closing and locking the door after Jason. "I am far from a damsel in distress, habibi. A few shopping bags aren't going to kill me."
Out of his sight in the kitchen, Salim can hear the rustling of what he assumes is Jason putting away the groceries. Jason snarkily calls back, "Yes, darlin'! "
The man breaths out a laugh at his mockery, his previous complaints on the edge of his tongue once more. "Don't darling me, Jason, not when you come home at this hour and not even-"
Salim rounded the corner of the hallway into the kitchen, ready to keep scolding him, but let out a startled noise as Jason practically leapt at him from his peripheral vision, having hidden away to scare him. At the sight of the poor man's wide-eyed expression, Jason snickers gleefully at his success. Salim's then about to scold him for trying to jumpscare him just as firm hands grab at his waist, pulling them close into an embrace like they were a while ago. Their faces are a breath apart, Salim's hands instinctively grasping at Jason's shoulders, and the elder's thoughts seemingly sizzle out just like that.
Jason eyes Salim's lips before muttering into the air between them, "And not even what? Kiss your pretty mouth bruised?"
Salim doesn't spare another word before surging forward and he can feel Jason's delighted smile against his lips. Regardless, Jason tugs him even closer so that Salim's flush against his chest and the latter can feel his fervour in the way the younger deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side. Salim didn't care that the American's lips were slightly chapped, the man likely having faced the winter wind for too long. For those brief seconds, he forgot his exhaustion and let himself melt into his lover completely. For a moment, it was perfectly sweet.
When they pull away, light brown eyes flicker down to his lips, looking like he wants to claim them all over again. Jason's face is flushed, likely a mix from the weather and having just kissed Salim silly. From the heat of his own face, the latter assumes he doesn't look much different. Salim laughs at the sight of it, nudging their foreheads together instead.
Jason breathes out his name like it's sacred, leaving a warm feeling in Salim's chest, "Fuck, Salim, I missed your kisses."
"Just my kisses?" Salim quipped.
"Yeah, just your kisses..." Jason trailed off. "...and probably your cooking, your shitty jokes, that smokin' tight a-"
Salim's hand shoots up to smother Jason's mouth as another airy laugh leaves him. "We have been apart for less than a day, habibi." Salim said.
Jason's face scrunched up and speaks up when the hand covering his mouth cups his cheek instead, allowing him to talk. "One day too long, that's what." Jason envelopes Salim's hand with his own and kisses his lover's palm adoringly. "And, uh, to say sorry for coming late these past few weeks, I went out to grab some groceries since you've been frettin' 'bout that, not having enough for dinner and all. Even got a shit ton of them Monster Munch chips Zain fuckin' inhales."
"Oh, Allah, we really need to stop feeding that boy's addiction. I swear, if it weren't for me, he'd have them for all his meals!" Salim joked. He then says a bit more seriously, "Sincerely, Jason, thank you. You must have become so tired after working for so long. To even go out of your way so late at night for us, thank you."
Jason shrugged. "'S fine. Today wasn't too shit, anyway."
Salim has a knowing look on his face as he traces Jason's jaw affectionately. "You've been doing overtime relentlessly time and time again, my love. I think it's safe to say every day is shit." And once the pad of his thumb reaches Jason's lips, he gives him a chaste kiss which the latter chases after. Salim laughed at Jason's dazed stare. "Help me put away the groceries, and maybe..." Salim's eyes droop, staring up at his partner through his eyelashes. "...I'll give you more than just a kiss."
In a heartbeat, the promise gets the American moving like a soldier with orders. "Yessir."
If Zain's love language was physical touch, Jason's was without a doubt acts of service, and perhaps gift-giving. His actions spoke louder than any of his curse words, after all.
Like tonight and many late nights prior, Jason would go out of his way to do chores or errands unprompted. He wasn't the best at conveying his thoughts verbally, he personally felt like he was a better listener, but that never stopped how exceptionally observant and attentive Jason was, especially to those he cared for. Whether one of his friends or family mentioned something they wanted weeks or months before Christmas, Jason would turn up with the perfect gift from their half-assed comment. This is certified by the crushing hug Nick gave him that Christmas day, Jason having bought them matching watches.
Jason had groaned against the smothering embrace. "Nicky, I get it- you like the gift. Get off me."
Nick's obvious delight was unscathed, very much so used to his best friend's attitude. "You're a godsend, man."
The Southern man rolled his eyes, but from his side, Salim could see the hints of a suppressed smirk tugging at his lips. "It's a watch."
"It's a cool fucking watch!" Nick argued. "If you had a matching one, it could be like our marine days- got them matching watches and tatts and everything."
Without saying a word, Jason raised his right arm and pulled his sleeve down, revealing the exact same watch he gifted him. Realising they have matching watches once more, Nick almost knocks his best friend over. Jason had thrown strings of curses of Get off me, Nick! Heavy ass motherfucker and your fuckin' hugs- and many more insults he didn't mean.
Salim thought it was extremely precious.
The former marine had even bought his past commander the wine she's been struggling to find for months and even made Zain give the 'christmas juice' to her to heighten the joke. Days later at the friends' New Years Party, Zain had practically shredded the box of his new gaming console. When Salim gave Jason an accusatory stare, Jason merely shrugged and pointed towards Rachel, calmly sipping her new wine as she watched Zain gush about how badly he's wanted the console.
Just this morning, Salim had half-heartedly complained about not having enough time to go out to the supermarket and Zain must've said something about his 'stash shortage' as he rummaged through the cupboards. Salim barely even recalled his throwaway comment till Jason had rocked up with everything they had mentioned hours ago- vegetables and halal meats for future meals, Zain's unhealthy crisps obsession, etcetera. Hell, as he was filtering through the bags, Jason had somehow found the tea Salim has been craving this past week. It didn't even sell at any of the nearby shops, Salim knew; he had tried to look around himself but came up empty-handed and mildly disappointed.
As he sets the box of tea aside on the kitchen island, very much enthusiastic to have it over breakfast tomorrow morning, Salim pipes up, "Did you drive all the way to that Asian store? The one some towns over?"
Said store was a decent ride away, but the family was a fan of it due to its large and diverse assortment. Besides how reminiscent the foods and snacks were to Salim's life in Iraq, the couple that owned the store took a liking to them, too. An old Filipino couple, Aunty Chesa and Uncle Coco, had moved to England ages before Salim's family had and established the Asian grocery as a form of livelihood. After their first encounter at the store, the two families had immediately clicked into a fun conversation. Maybe, it was something about the universal understanding of the first immigrant experience that helped them get along and empathise with their adventures in a new culture, a new world. That couple liked them so much: even offered Zain the opportunity to part-time there should ever he decide he had enough time after exam season. The boy had thanked them then and voiced to his dad that he'd love to, once he had more time in his hands. "Folks would think Zain was their grandkid!" was Jason's reaction to that.
Jason's voice shouted from the pantry, speed-running putting away their groceries. "Should've seen how fuckin' grumpy Uncle Coco was when I rocked up at closing time! Swore at me like a sailor, he did. Good thing I'm too much of a knucklehead to know a lick of Filipino."
Salim laughs at the image. "Mr Cabello means well, habibi!" He says the next part a little more quietly. "It also just happens you both share the same vocabulary, albeit in a different tongue."
"I heard that, smartass!"
Salim grinned even wider. "You love my ass."
Even though he couldn't see his lover, he had a gut feeling Jason had nodded in agreement. "Damn right I do!"
Salim snickers at the conversation. These were the nights he cherished, and although they were becoming more and more scarce with how busy they've become, their comfortable banter never failed to cheer him up. "I know I said it before-"
Jason intervenes as Salim starts. "Already told you, Salim, don't worry 'bout it."
He continues regardless. "-but I really wanted to say it again, habibi, how grateful I am for you and everything you do for Zain and me. All the love you shower us with never goes ignored..." He wanted to say more but is cut off by his own yawn, his eyes closing as he realises he must've been more tired than he thought he was. "...so, thank you again, Jason. I really do love you and everything you do."
"Don't say you love me just yet, Salim!"
The sound of glass clinking together makes Salim open his eyes. He watches as Jason leaves the pantry with a wine bottle in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. There's a cheeky smile on his lover's face. Jason admitted, "Noticed your choppy sleep recently and how shit it's been makin' work for you. Thought you'd want a glass."
Allah, this man was perfect. "Have I told you I love you?"
Jason had already put the glasses down and was opening the bottle. "Thought you'd say that."
Salim chuckled and, as Jason started to pour, he made his way over to him till he was pressed against his lover's arm. "You must be tired doing so much for me, habibi. Treating me so right. Perhaps we should get to bed..." Salim's tone drops into something sultry and his voice is right beside Jason's ear, sending a shiver down the man's spine. He can see Jason's grip on the wine bottle tighten, trembling in an effort not to shatter it. "...and if you'd like, I can return the favour, give you something sweeter than that wine."
A loud clatter and a bark of laughter from Salim later, Jason had captured his lips in a searing kiss all over again. And all throughout the night, from the moment they finished the wine and Salim found himself entangled in his sheets, Jason's bare arms encasing him and making him feel safe and adored, Salim knew: not a second passed by that Jason didn't assure him he loved him.
