6. on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair
“No, screw you, Boba Fett is definitely more awesome.” Kent’s sitting at the kitchen table, beer bottle held loosely in his fingers. They’ve been doing this for hours, since Jeff realized that after nearly two years of dating, Kent still hasn’t watched Star Wars. So they’d spent the morning pressed up against each other on the bed, peering at the screen of Jeff’s (admittedly terrible) laptop.
“He was onscreen for two minutes and got killed by a giant plant monster. Obi Wan had style–”
“He wore a canvas sack cloak.” The late afternoon sunlight streams through the kitchen window, lighting up Kent’s hair and giving him an ethereal glow. The effect of it makes the heresy he’s spouting only slightly more bearable.
“–style, I’m telling you. And he’s a Jedi, which is cooler by default.” Jeff leans forward, resting his chin on his hands.
Kent spreads his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “Fine. Fine. Because I love you, I’m not going to fight you on this bullshit talk.”
Jeff groans. “You’re such an ass.”
He smirks. “You like it, though.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Jeff doesn’t bother to curb the smile spreading across his face.
19. with no space between us
They come out on a Friday. By Saturday morning, Kent’s twitter feed is filled with a combination of supportive messages, intrusive questions, and flat out insults. The news is covering this like it’s some kind of natural disaster, and they haven’t left the house in order to avoid reporters. It’s getting a little much.
“You’d think we killed someone,” Kent remarks. They’re sitting on the couch, Kent pressed against his side, scrolling through his phone. “Oh. Jack wants to know if we want to do a couples brunch with him and Eric, really get the reporters frothing.” He looks up. “How’s Thursday?”
Jeff considers it and nods. “But like. We kind of did kill your reputation.”
Kent leans back and raises his eyebrows. “My what now?”
He makes a vague gesture with one hand. “You know, all the guys were like, ‘Oh yeah, Parser, he’s kind of a picky fucker, right?’” Jeff frowns. “There was totally a groupchat called Find Parser Love at some point.”
Kent leans back in, draping himself on Jeff’s shoulders, his weight a warm pressure. “How do you even know this?”
Jeff scratches at the back of his neck and grimaces. “I, uh, was in it? This was way back in rookie year.” He hesitates. “I kind of had a crush on you.”
He snorts. “Back in rookie year? Babe, that’s adorable.”
“We’re literally dating.” That sets Kent off, and suddenly he’s laughing so hard he collapses onto Jeff’s chest, his entire body shaking with the force of it. Jeff rests a hand on his shoulder. Finally the waves of laughter subside, and Kent lifts his head to rest his chin on Jeff’s collarbone.
“You’re such a dweeb,” he says, affection in his eyes. “Fuck, I love you.”
Jeff grins and wraps an arm around his waist. They’re going to be fine.
want one? prompt + pairing