Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 Jack woke up with a headache from whatever the hell he drank the night before, and a sharp pain in his spine. Even the thousand-thread-count bedsheets couldn't soften the pain enough. And he really just wanted to go back to sleep, never wake up, and live in dreamland. But with the responsibilities of his children, he needed to get up. So as soon as he moved, he hissed out, keeping in a bundle of swears while he lifted himself up. His spine ached even more. He blinked tiredly, looking around the blurry room. His vision always took a second to adjust, whether it was dark or not, and the sun shined through the drapes.

 He got up from the bed, in socks, boxers and a t-shirt, and walked over to the bathroom. All he needed to do was pop his painkillers, take whatever else he needed, brush his teeth and get dressed. Today was--what day was it again? Monday? Likely. So he also needed to take John Jr. to school, get Caroline to Kindergarten, and take care of Patrick at the same time. He would definitely need coffee.

  He unscrewed the bottle carrying his painkillers and took the recommended dosage dry, since he had gotten so used to it that he didn't always need water, even if it helped. He took a look in the mirror; messy, red-brown hair, bloodshot brown eyes, and he could tell a stubble was about to start growing. But that morning he didn't really feel like shaving, it'd take too long, and he still needed to get the kids to school. With a sigh, he splashed water on his face, took the rest of his pills, and didn't look in the mirror anymore. It'd just lower his self-esteem and he desperately needed coffee.

  The outfit for the day was a simple blue, striped button-up, khaki pants, and running shoes. The true 'I'm-depressed' look for him. Besides, he had nobody to look pretty for. With a spray of cologne on himself, deodorant, and one last thought of why he couldn't go back to bed, Jack made his way to the bedroom door and opened it. 

 The air of the hallway hit him and he walked downstairs, not surprised to see his three little children sitting in the kitchen and waiting for him. John Jr., who wore an outfit nearly identical to his father's, sat in his chair. Caroline had on a cute dark red dress and a small little bow in her hair, looking like a little angel, and the small Mary Janes made her even cuter. Patrick was in John's arms, in a small purple t-shirt, shorts and soft fabric shoes. When Jack appeared, John smiled widely. "Papa!"

 "Hey, little man. You ready for school? Got your backpack all ready?" Jack said, a smile appearing on his face. Even tired, even sleep-deprived, his children could make him smile.

  "Mhm! Pencils, erasers, ...all the other stuff I don't remember." John finished slowly, and he got up from his chair to hand Patrick to his father. Jack took Patrick gently, the baby cooing happily and pawing at his father's face. He smiled even wider. He kissed the baby's cheek, walking over to the baby couch seat (It costed over two-hundred dollars. Still likely not worth it, but also worth it at the same time.) and putting Patrick inside of it before going over to the coffee machine. He needed at least one cup today: all trips to the school sucked. Every. Single. Time. 

 The children talked while he made the coffee, putting in his own words once or twice, and when the coffee finished he took a sip and looked at the time on the stove.

 7:54AM.

 ...Shit. To get from Primary School to Kindergarten in six minutes with a baby... He'd have to cut corners.

 With one massive gulp-down of the coffee, he put the mug down and grabbed John's small hand. "Alright, come on, Caroline, get your bag." he said hastily. Caroline waddled over to her red backpack, and Patrick's coo from the couch seat reminded him oh shit he'd need to carry a baby at the same time fuck--so he quickly ran from the couch to the front door again to pick Patrick up. John already had his backpack in his own hands, so he watched his father act like a madman.

 Jack opened the front door with one hand, putting the keys in his pocket, and walked down the front stairs to his slightly banged up red car. Though he could just get money from his bank account, he didn't feel like it, and Bitches-Love-Me-2000 was too hard to get rid of me. John and Caroline were right behind him. 

 "We can do it, Papa, don't worry." John reassured once he noticed his father's panic.

 "Thanks, baby, but I'm not too sure about that." Jack muttered quickly under his breath and opened the back car doors. John climbed in and Jack helped his daughter into the car too, setting up the special seat, and slipping into the front himself and closing the door. He buckled Patrick in, and within the next ten seconds, they were off, on the verge of speeding.

 Luckily, both schools the kids attended would allow all parents five extra minutes. Therefore, even though he needed to rush still, he didn't need to rush too much.

 Once they made it to the Primary School, he rushed John to the front, giving him a kiss on the cheek and telling him, "Bye, sweetie, you'll do great." before running right back into the car. He must've looked nuts to the other parents there, but he didn't care. As long as his kid got in there on time or close to on time, he didn't care one bit. Caroline still had to get to kindergarten. With a look at the time he noticed he was already over time by a minute.

 Groaning, Jack sped down the street again, yet still very cautious of his baby, and reached the kindergarten within three minutes. He let Caroline out, taking a minute to breathe in and out, and walked with Caroline to the entrance of the building.

 "You'll do amazing, hon." he kissed her on the cheek. "Now let's go." he led Caroline through the doors, and the main teacher there, Mr. Polk, smiled in his face.

 "Just a little bit late. Hello, Caroline." he nodded down to the little girl, who waved back. Polk was a good guy. Caroline had told him so. Attentive, caring, and somehow always took care of the problems that most would've ignored. Then, he looked back up to Jack. "You look like you need a coffee."

 "Trust me, I do." Jack grumbled, but the conversation slightly lifted his spirits. 

 "Ah, I understand, my own kids have taught me that being late to things like this is fairly normal. Will you be back early? I can take care of Caroline if you'll be late." Polk asked.

 Jack didn't really know, and so he shrugged. "Depends. But I need to get back to my baby, I'll see you later, Polk." he gave Polk a smile, got one in return, and walked out of the building and retreated back into his car.

 He gave Patrick a small little pat on the head. "Well buddy, guess it's just me and you now huh?" he said. Patrick smiled and giggled loudly, and his eyes only drew Jack in. This was worth it in the end. It really was. To see his children's eyes light up, to see them smile, and laugh, Jack wouldn't have traded it for a single thing. Even the spine pain relaxed a bit each time one of the kids smiled.

 This was worth it.

-

 Until, well, he was getting groceries in the nearby store with Patrick and got a phone call. He pulled it out instantly--he wasn't letting anyone hear his ringtone--and answered the unfamiliar number.

 "Hello?" he said, furrowing his eyebrows, and stopping the cart. Patrick cocked his head confused at the way the red cart stopped abruptly, and why his Papa looked confused and a bit ticked off.

 "Hello, is this Mr. Kennedy?"

 "Yes?" 

 "I'm calling because we need you to come down to the school, John Jr. got in a fight with another kid. We just need you to go in the Principal's Office."

 That was a certain surprise. John was a good kid, and he never really got in trouble, always did his assignments on time and got good grades. So to hear his boy getting into a fight not only spiked the paternal instincts in him, but also spiked the confusion. His irritation withered away as well.

 "Oh. Do you know why?"

 "He won't talk. He said he wants you to be here with him." the person on the other end replied, and Jack sighed.

 "Alright."

 So paying for the groceries, buckling Patrick up, and doing his own seatbelt with the groceries in the back, Jack only thought one word.

 Fuck.

-

 It turned out that, as Jack sped-walked to the Principal's Office with Patrick in his hands, a voice was already trying to talk to John. Not deep, but not very high. The voice sounded masculine, and pretty aged, but not like an eighty-year-old. 

 When he opened the door to the office, a face turned to him. And a very-fucking-tall figure did as well.

 A black beard and short side-swept hair. Kind eyes. Eyebags. Very skinny frame, and slightly hollow cheeks. White button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbows, black slacks and polished brown shoes. Holy fuck.

 What. The. Fuck.

 Jack was not looking for another partner, alright? He wasn't. He was just fine being a single tired dad and raising three children all by himself. He could do it. Ever since Patrick was born, just almost, almost a year ago, he'd been doing it just fine. Sure, with some ups and downs, but he was able to do it. 

 But holy Christ this guy was pretty hot. But he had to be with someone, right? Right?

 "Hello. I'm the Principal, Abraham Lincoln." the guy held a massive hand out, and Jack's brain blanked for a second. But then he swallowed.

 "I can't shake your hand, sorry. Holding a baby." he said and chuckled awkwardly, lightly propping Patrick up a bit. Lincoln's eyebrows rose just a bit, and he nodded, smiling, understanding. Jack usually got a dirty look for it. But this guy he just met, didn't judge him, and Jack didn't want to say how good that felt.

 "I understand." then he cleared his throat. "Now, your son got into a fight. And he won't tell me why. Can you coax it out of him?" 

 Jack turned to the boy in the chair, who looked up worriedly. Another boy sat in another chair too, a band-aid on his cheek. And then next to him stood a slightly shorter boy, with a bruise on his arm. "John, please, tell me what happened, if you will." he said. He had to use the firm tone parents used with their kids, even if he didn't feel like it. Because obviously his son must've won that fight.

 "He was bullying Willie, Papa! I couldn't let him do that." John Jr. said with a frown and those big, glistening eyes looked up at him, and he instantly lost all firmness. He wanted to ask his boy if he won--but right in front of the principal likely wouldn't end well. He'd look like a bad dad, 100%.

 "Why didn't you call a teacher? Someone?" Jack said, furrowing his eyebrows.

 "Well--they just--they wouldn't 'a done it right! I needed 'ta show him he couldn't get away with that." John responded, crossing his arms. And Jack couldn't fault him.

 Jack, with a sigh, looked back at Lincoln. "I'm still very sorry. Will I need to do anything to make up for this?" 

 "Oh, no. I mean, I'd probably try and tell your son it's not the best option to nearly break another boy's nose, but other than that no. But you'll need to take him home now instead of letting him go about the school day." Lincoln explained, and the fact he didn't need to do any signing of any documents made Jack want to sigh. So it wasn't that bad, alright. He could totally treat John to ice-cream after this. 

 "Alright, thank you." he turned to John again. "Come on, let's go."

 "Wait, Papa," John hopped out of the chair and instantly grabbed his pant-leg. "I wanted to ask if--if Willie could stay the night Friday, I really like him, and I want to show him all of my toys!" the boy sounded very enthusiastic. He didn't have many friends over the years, so if Jack said no, it'd likely make him cry.

 And who is Jack to say no to his kid?

 With a sigh, Jack responded, "Fine. I'll have to ask his parents, then."

 "Oh, I'm Willie's father." Lincoln suddenly budged in and what?

 It made sense, though. Obviously a guy like him would have a kid, or multiple. He was hot and looked fairly strong. Even while lankier than a damn twig. Jack looked between Lincoln and his own son, for a minute, wondering if this was really a good idea, before he sighed deeper than he had the entire month. He could assume what kid was what, now, since the kid with a bruise on his arm shared the same eyes as the principal. 

 "So is that a yes, to them having a sleepover? I'll make sure they're safe, and stuff. I won't let them get into anything dangerous." Jack said. He didn't know what type of parent Lincoln was.

 "It is a yes. I'll still have work, but mainly just light paperwork, so I'll be able to arrive on time to both drop Willie off and pick him up. Unless he stays the night. Do you need my number?" Lincoln then immediately reached for his pocket, and Jack shook his head.

 "No, I'll just trust you." he said, half-joking, half-serious. He would trust any guy who looked like that.

 "Then I'll see you Friday. Have a great day." Lincoln said, and then with a nod to each other, and a smile, Jack walked with his son out of the building hand-in-hand. As soon as they reached the outside and got into the car, he put Patrick in his seat, buckled him up, and turned to John Jr.

 "So, ice-cream?"

 "Ice-cream!" John Jr. cheered so loud that a nearby person looked over. 

 Jack just laughed.

-

 When Jack got ready for bed, and slipped under the covers, he thought for a second. His son would be having a sleepover with the principal's son, whose father was super fucking hot and not too much taller or shorter than him. Who he also wanted to sleep with.

 Well shit.

Chapter Text

 What Jack does not expect, when he wakes up with a hell of an ache in his neck, is a new email. He usually didn’t get any. Other than grades, or important things like events or tests, he didn’t get emails. So with his coffee cup in hand, Jack sat down, clicked the email, and put on his reading glasses. It's from... It's from Lincoln.

 Well then...

Jack,

 I'm very sorry, really, but I may not be able to pick William up. I was aiming to do so, but something has come up and I won't be able to. Just let him stay overnight, if that works for you. He won't mind and neither will I. Hopefully, John Jr. won't mind either.

 Again, I'm very sorry!

 Best of luck,

 Abraham Lincoln.

 ...So that put a screw in Jack's plans. Originally he was going to get Lincoln to pick the kid up and then he'd start trying to find a job. His family, no matter how fucked up, had a lot of money. But he wouldn't live off of it. He wanted to have some independence, some sort of thing to keep him away from all of it. He wanted to actually work. But with the extra child he'd be watching over, that definitely wouldn't work. He can't try to find a job while making sure a kid doesn't kill himself.

 He sighs and takes a large drink from his coffee mug clicking out of the window.

 It's the way Caroline's voice shrieked from upstairs that nearly made him drop it. 

 "DAD THERE'S A SPIDER!"

 Jack instantly got up and sped to the stairs, leaning forwards, "How big is it honey?" he said, sipping again.

 "THAT DOESN'T MATTER JUST GET UP HERE!" she broke out into a loud scream. Jack grabbed a paper towel roll from the kitchen--after putting his coffee down of course--and trudged up the stairs like a soldier ready for battle. Obviously he didn't like spiders either. But if it wasn't big then fine, he'd kill it, but if it was a big one then he was calling someone. He was not dealing with that alone. Jackie would help... probably.

 "I'm coming, Caroline!"

 When Jack finally reached the top of the stairs, he turned into Caroline's room, and she had John Jr. behind her with Patrick in her arms. On the wall in front of them was a fairly decently sized spider, warm brown in its color, and still. 

 Alright, so Jack wasn't scared but he was just... it was a spider, alright? He took one step forward in front of the kids, slowly pulling out his phone from his pocket and blindly dialing whoever appears third on the list. He never went first or second, only third. Third time is the charm. The spider's legs moved once, and he almost dialed back, but then the phone was answered and he puts it up to his ear.

 "Jackie if I die you're in my will."

 "Jack, what do you mean, what are you even talking about." Jackie's calming voice came from the other side, and his shoulders slacked regardless of the fact he was about to die.

 "Spider. There's a spider, Jackie. I'm not built for this. Not to mention--" he cuts himself off, because not only do the kids not know, but Jackie shouldn't.

 Jackie sighed, "Just hit it, Jack. I'm not coming over because there's a spider." she said, but he knew that if he wanted her over, she would get her shoes on, get her bag and Spider-Shooting-Nerf-Gun and come over to deal with it. But he also didn't want to bother her, so he took one more step forward. He hesitated but hit it. It fell and he began to bash it into the floor. Each hit, and he was sure it may be dead, beat it into the ground.

 "It's dead," he whispered into the phone. The kids were cheering behind him.

 "Good. Now, I can tell you have something to tell me." A shuffle came from the other side and he turned to the kids, breathing quite heavily.

 "If it necromances, tell me."

 Then he walked out of the room and down the stairs, placing the towel roll on the counter and picking the coffee back up. He sipped at it and leaned on the cold marble. "I just--I--John got into a fight, and holy shit Jackie the Principal--have I showed you him yet?" Jack didn't even know if he had shown Jackie, and yet, he also did not know if he has a picture of the guy or not. Maybe he had Facebook? But Jack also wasn't about to stalk the man.

 "No. What, is the principal super hot?" Jackie's tone was teasing now.

 "I mean, yes," Jack stammered, "and it one hundred percent is not going to end well for me. His kid is coming over to have a sleepover, Jackie. I'll have to see this guy really soon." he put the coffee down to run a hand through his hair to reduce some of his stress. It was like he was 15 again and talking to his brother as he's about to go on a date with Jackie. Nervous. A bit sweaty, maybe. But times had changed, and now it was about a guy who's probably much older than him and has kids. 

 "Well that's actually a good thing, more interaction the merrier."

 Jack groaned. "You're not helping."

 "But I'm talking to you, and I'm listening, so technically I am." another shuffle. "Come on Jack, don't be nervous. It's just another crush--how bad can it go? Besides, the quicker you guys bond, the quicker you can know if he's into you."

 "But I want to keep it light, Jackie, not bombard him. Do I just go up to him and say 'hey, want to fuck'? Before you think I'm that dumb, that was rhetorical." Jack sipped at his coffee again once he picked it back up. Jackie lightly giggled on the other side of the phone speaker.

 "I'm sure it was," Jackie paused, "Jack, what if it... well. You know. Goes well?"

 He hadn't thought of that.

 If it did go well. If. He'd have a partner, something he hadn't had in a minute. Not seriously. And what if Lincoln--should he call him Abraham?--wasn't even into men? Too likely. But what if he was? Jack and he would have a good time, maybe get coffee together, stay up together and talk, cuddle, read. Watch things. More than that, but Jack was not interested in falling into a delusion that might never be crafted.

 "I don't... I don't know, Jackie, he--he has kids. Plural. He's slept with a woman before, and I don't even know if he's looking for someone else." he was muttering in the end. 

 "Well if he is, then you might just be in luck, Camelot." the nickname Jackie used had him snickering, a smile gracing his face even through the stress he was under.

 "I'm not too sure, Jackie. What if he's a serial killer?" he asked playfully, the good mood infectious. Jackie had always had that effect; able to make him happy within in an instant. No matter how stressed he was, or upset, she could make a small smile appear and it all grew from there. Maybe that was one of the reasons he fell in love with her. Just maybe.

 "Well I have to go now, don't do anything stupid, Jacquelyn. If he's an asshole I'll let you pummel him with nerf darts, alright?"

 "Alright, Camelot." then the line cut and he put his phone back into his pocket, taking the last few sips of his coffee. He put it in the sink and took a deep breath. He could do this, of course he could. He closed his eyes.

 You've got this, Jack.

 He had this.

-

 Categorically he did not have this. When Lincoln had pulled up (in a Lincoln, which he found pretty funny), he had come in black pants that 100% accentuated his ass, and a black button-up that seemed a little too small to not accentuate his chest as well. Jack was not one to stare, not entirely, well, alright, a little bit, but he could barely tear his eyes away.

 But with his kid hand-in-hand, Lincoln just looked even more irresistible. As soon as he was face to face with Jack, he smiled. "Thanks for not canceling on either of us, Willie would be mighty upset," he said.

 "Ah, no big deal really." Jack crossed his arms, "I couldn't do that to you, or uh..." ... he definitely was not calling a kid a synonym for a dick. "William. Just couldn't, I'd feel a bit bad." he put on his own smile to hide how nervous he was.

 Lincoln's smile only grew, and his heart did a summersault. Practically punched the air. He looked down at the toddler to his side.

 "You ready, buddy?" he asked, and he did it so easily, so practiced, that Jack couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. He usually had to think of his words, not say them on demand. But Lincoln also looked much more experienced, so that'd be why. Regardless, the toddler nodded, and he looked back up at Jack. "I guess we're ready."

 He let them in and he instantly remembered oh shit, he didn't clean the fucking mug.

 Jack, internally swearing, bit his lip to keep them all in and smiled. "Yeah... yeah. Uh--are there, any, uhm," he waited until Will--he'll just call him Will--saw John Jr. and ran over to him. "allergies I should worry about?" he wanted to make sure he didn't kill the kid with peanuts or anything similar. Hell: allergies to certain fabric, say the fabric of Jack's couch, and he'd be fucked.

 "Ah, no. Thankfully. Just don't let him have too much sugar."

 Lincoln patted his shoulder twice, firmly. It nearly made Jack jump. "I'll see you tomorrow. You got this." then he left and Jack was stranded in his own home with four kids.

 Great.

-

 "William, don't jump on the couch." he groaned. Only, say, ten minutes in, and Will had already started jumping on the couch. John, ever the follower in antics, started doing it too. Caroline watched on with a lollipop in her mouth and Patrick was asleep upstairs already.

 "Come on, Mr. Kennedy! It's fun!" Will cheered out, falling onto the couch cushion, laughing while John still jumped. 

 "Yeah, but having a broken skull won't be," Jack said. John stopped jumping and peered over the couch like he was a spy, except the giggling come from him utterly ruined any 'discretion' he was trying to achieve.

 John suddenly piped up, "Can we go to my room? We can play superheroes!" he looked over to Will and the other boy only nodded in agreement. 

 The two toddlers rushed off the couch and up the stairs clumsily, while Jack blinked tiredly and checked his phone. Twelve minutes. And he had to do this until the kids went to bed. He looked at Caroline, who merely looked back contently. A lollipop and she was good to go. As long as they did not wake up Patrick, Jack likely had this. ...Maybe. 

 He climbed up the stairs and the shrieking cheer of the two boys was immediate. He puffed out a chuckle, smiling, and opened the bedroom door.

 Will had on one of John's superhero eye masks, with a blanket around his shoulders loosely tied. John had a foam sword, his own eye mask, and a polka-dotted blanket resting on his shoulders instead of tied.

 "You'll never win, Mr. Evil!" John shouted, aiming the sword threateningly at Will, who just laughed on top of the bed. He bounced up once, shooting his hand out and making a 'pew!' sound.

 "I'll win, and I'll destroy your city!"

 John ran to the edge and knocked Will over with a slash to the legs. Will fell over, a bit forced, and dramatically bounced up and down for a second. He got up one moment after, 'shooting' John in the face. John turned his head and made an 'AUGH!' sound. Jack watched on in the doorway with a smile. As long as they didn't break anything, or break each other's bones, then it would all go smoothly.

 John got up on the bed and began to repeatedly hit Will with the foam sword. Softly, not hard. John knew what 'too hard' meant, and he would obviously stop if his new friend said so. Will tried to defend with his hands, but after two handfuls of hits, he fell back entirely on the bed and made a very loud death sound, more of a scream-groan. Jack could only stifle his laughter.

 "I AM VICTORIOUS!" John screamed, throwing his arms up, flopping on top of Will. 

 "Oof! Get off of me!" Will pushed him onto the floor with a whine.

 John tore his eye mask off and looked up at the doorway--and saw his father, with his arms crossed, happily watching the two play. "Papa!" he said, getting up and hugging the man's legs. "We're playing, you see?"

 "I see that, John." Jack ruffled the boy's hair. "I see that."

 "Hey, Pops, I got a question," John mumbled into his pant leg, and he pulled his head away, looking up with wonder.

 "And what's that, John?"

 "Can--can me and Will do this again?"

 "...I don't see why not." Jack looked over at the boy on the bed, who smiled back, a tooth gap in the middle, and he had taken off the mask while Jack talked to John Jr. He had nearly glowing eyes. And how could Jack ever say no? John cheered and got back on the bed to hug Will.

 Jack checked his phone.

 It was eleven.

 "I think it's time for you boys to go to bed."

 "Oh come on, it's only been twenty minutes!" Will whined out, and John began to whine too, and Jack instantly took back his words. Otherwise, it'd be hell.

 "Alright, alright--in bed but with TV. How's that?"

 The two boys shared a glance before nodding rapidly. He ushered them to the bathroom to get cleaned up and he took care of the toys while they did, only catching bits and pieces of their minty rambles to each other. It sounded fun, for the most part. They had only known each other for less than a week, and yet, they were already having sleepovers, and talking, and playing. Jack wondered how many more times this would happen. When he got done they got into bed, snuggled under two blankets, side by side, and he turned on the TV to Spongebob. It'd play episodes and likely other shows as well, so he wouldn't need to change the channel, and they wouldn't accidentally reboot the TV or something with the remote.

 He checked his phone while he slumped down the door with the muffled words of Squidward in his ears and emailed Lincoln.

  They're in bed. Just thought I'd let you know.

 -Jack

 An instant response.

 Perfect! Oh, and, since I feel like repaying you back, how about we get coffee together tomorrow? On me, of course. You took care of them--you don't owe me a thing.

 -Lincoln

 Jack's cheeks flushed red. A coffee date? A date? They--why, it'd only been two days! And a coffee date already? He wasn't against it. Of course not, that'd be silly. He wanted this guy. And yet, he didn't expect a date. Hell, was the guy even trying to date him or just being a friend? A good, platonic, straight friend?

 ...Sure.

 -Jack

-

 :)

 -Lincoln

 His cheeks burned uncomfortably harder.

 Well... fuck. Again.

Chapter Text

 Jack was internally freaking out. Maybe a bit more than that, but close to that. He—he wasn’t nervous is all, he’d been on plenty of dates, but he couldn’t just act like this is casual. Sure, it was a coffee date. Sure, it’s a normal date with no other intentions. At least, on Linc—does he start calling him Abraham? Abraham’s part (thinking it made him shiver), but on Jack’s part, it was more than that. So much more. He didn’t fall quickly, if at all. Sometimes it was just casual. The only other hard love that he’d had was Jackie, and they broke up. He didn’t want to love harder after that. Even with encouragement from Bobby, he could barely continue on. Speaking of…

 Bobblehead: yo, you sure you’re gonna be okay?

 He sighed and texted back a quick reply.

 Jackolantern: yeah, yeah. Ill be fine

 The only thing he got in response was a thumbs up with a heart, and he put his phone back into his pocket. The kids were off at their mother’s after he drove them there. The timing—too good. Too good. Something would go wrong. Something or someone would get in the way, and he would be left alone. Again. Maybe this was why he didn’t want to love, because it’d all go wrong. Because he wasn’t meant to love. That was what his brain told him, anyway, and he knew it was dangerous to get into that habit of always listening but God it was hard not to.

 And hell, again; what if Abraham was not into men? What if he was straighter than a wooden board? Or—and he really didn’t want to guess this correctly—he was against that thing? Would say it was gross, pat him on the back, tell him something all conservatives and republicans say and make him nearly vomit in disgust. Because that was exactly how his last two ‘platonic’ outings with men had gone. Bigotry, ghost, alone.

 Always the same cycle.

 But he did not want to keep the cycle going, so he agreed to this. The timing of this was still too good, but he was almost falling over in exhaustion. The kids took long to get dressed and Patrick started crying, and then Caroline got stuck in her shirt, and it was all so fucked. He almost rescheduled out of tiredness. But that wouldn’t be a good look, nor would it be right, so he had to go anyway. And part of his heart told him that he should take this chance—pursue it more than the others. Chase it like it’s his lifeline.

 Maybe in some way, it was.

 However, he jumped when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out hastily and checked. An email.

 I’m ready to pick William up—very sorry this took a bit. Had work, and my assistant, Grant (you may’ve met him before), had to temporarily take a few days off. He’s sick. Just outside! Didn’t feel like getting out, as it is raining and, not too sure how well that’d work on a white shirt.

 It was from Lincoln, and he swallowed. Yeah—he’d met Grant. Beard, blue eyes. Right? It wasn’t possible for the guy to have two different secretaries both named Grant, and the guy had volunteered to watch his kids during after-school hours when it took him an extra hour to pick them up, so he would say yeah, he’d met him.

 Jack got up from his position on the floor against the wall and smoothed out his turtleneck. He had to look presentable and good. With a slow walk toward the door, he opened it, and saw Lincoln’s car with said man inside of it. Willi—he remembered suddenly—William jumped up and cheered, “Papa!” and then the boy was racing out, into the rain, of course with an umbrella—and to his father who still sat in the car. When he got close enough Jack watched as Abraham opened the car door and the child jumped across the passenger’s seat to hug his father.

 “Ah, hello, my boy,” Abraham said with a laugh and a smile. Jack could feel his own smile grow on his face, and a voice in the back of his mind said, You can make him laugh like that. and then he shut it down.

 “So, going to drop him off and then get coffee, that’s the plan?” Jack said, walking down the stairs—shielding himself poorly from the rain with his hand and got into the car as William scooted to the backseats and began buckling himself in. Even closer, Abraham looked unfairly hot. His eyes were smiling, and the button-up was making Jack hot in the face again. His hair looked a bit gelled, and Jack didn’t mind. After all, he gelled his hair sometimes.

 “Yeah—I just have to get him home, and his brother, Robert, my eldest, will do the rest—besides, Will wants to meet some of Robert’s friends anyway don’t you, Willie,” the man turned back to his son, who nodded with a now-fastened seatbelt. Jack did his own and adjusted himself in the seat. He wondered how many kids this guy had. Two? Three? …Four?

 The car started up and Jack ran a hand through his hair to quickly dry any rain that got in it. He did not spend twenty minutes pre-hand getting his hair in order. It was a bit chilly, but he could withstand it anyway. He had dealt with freezing temperatures, freezing water, and eventually it all added up to a numb feeling that gnawed at you without any real bite to it. A dull, toothless bite. That was what it was, and Jack didn’t really have anything to help anyway.

 Then he paused. “I just realized there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

 “Alright, quick run through. What do you want to know? I promise, I’m no serial killer.” Abraham responded, which got a snicker from Jack.

 “Favorite color?”

 “Blue. I waver between blue and black.” The wipers, on. The rain wasn’t really letting up.

 “Favorite food?”

 “Chicken fricassee, but it changes sometimes. Desert though, that’s a bit sweeter.”

 Jack laughed, “I can imagine. Favorite book?”

 Abraham didn’t answer right away. He seemed to think about it, and Jack could assume he read a lot, so he didn’t mind. He looked book-smart, and Jack liked that in a man. Someone who read often. Could chat about books. It was hard to get a good topic sometimes, so being able to talk about a book casually meant a lot.

 “I can’t really choose. I love all of the good books I’ve read, but it’s hard to choose.”

 Jack leaned back into his seat, a small ‘hm’ coming from him. He couldn’t really think of more. “Sounds like I’m dealing with a dark person then.” He said, looking ahead through the rain on the glass to see where they were going. But then he remembered—a house, of course. Of course.

 “If you consider it dark.” Abraham took one more turn and then he was slowing down to a stop. They must have been there already—interesting. Jack could barely remember the last few moments, save for the sound of Abraham’s voice. And wasn’t that a weird thing to focus on? The sound of someone’s voice. They may have been on a coffee date but it wasn’t like he had to hang on to each thing Abraham did. Abraham did a swift procedure of getting the boy out, who seemed to be focusing quite intently on their conversation, Jack noted, and at the last few moments, an older teen stepped out of the house.

 “I promise the house won’t be trashed,” the kid said, and Jack could imagine this was Robert.

 “It better not be, or it’s coming out of your weekly allowance,” Abraham said. Almost in a joking manner, but potential to be taken seriously. He leaned out of the car (no doubt getting rain on himself) and kissed the teen on the cheek. Then, he got back in the car, and shut the door gently. “I love them, I really do,” he was smiling wider, “anyway—now, which coffee shop do you frequent?”

 Jack paused, remembering the name, “Czolgosz’s Coffee Shop, I think?”

 “I go there sometimes, what’s your usual order?” Abraham asked.

 “Eh—a bit of sugar, a bit of creamer. Nothing too sweet.” Jack responded. They began driving off, and he caught himself looking at Abraham more than anything else. Dark black hair and a beard, hollowed cheeks, pretty eyes. Sophisticated. Good fashion. Jack already liked him a lot. He’d text Bobby or Jackie with a freak-out text, basically letting them know that, yeah, he liked the guy, but right now he didn’t want to seem distracted. Even if it was just a normal coffee outing and nothing more.

  He tugged at his turtleneck subtly. He didn’t want to fall this hard. But of course, after so long, with no one else he had to find somebody. Somebody to fill the hole Jackie left. The hole had been patched up, mostly. But there was always part of it that could never be sewn together like it used to be. And after so many failed attempts, it was fruitless to try again. And he’d likely get hurt. That was how it ended, with hurt and pain and shame that he thought he found somebody. Simply tricked his mind into it. But something about Abraham felt different, and he liked it.

 Maybe he could do this.

 “I hope you’re not against me liking black coffee?” Abraham said, already getting fairly close to the coffee shop. The town was quite compacted together, almost a small little community. He knew a lot of the people there vaguely, even if in a one-time meeting. If Jack thought about it, then it could’ve been within walking distance. They could’ve walked, but it was raining, and he didn’t feel like falling over the minute he tried to walk. His back decided to be a bitch for about an hour and he didn’t want to upstart it again.

 “No, not at all. It’s not my type but eh, people have their own tastes.” Jack said with a shrug. “If you liked it insanely sweet then maybe I’d judge you.”

 Abraham chuckled, “Definitely not. Robert does though, he likes it sweeter than sweet, and I can’t do anything but remind him that the more creamer we buy, the more money he’s paying for my funeral.”

 Jack didn’t take him as a dark humor man, but even if it was dark, he found it a humorous comparison. Of course, Abraham wouldn’t die any time soon—he hoped, at least—so Robert would probably have to pay a lot of money towards it. If his funeral even cost much. But, Jack didn’t feel like thinking of his interest’s funeral so soon, so he waved the thought away.

 When they reached the shop, Abraham was quick to unlock the door, and Jack made sure he had a straight way to the coffee shop to get under the umbrellas in front. With a hand over his hair (he wasn’t risking it), he bolted out of the car and must’ve looked nuts running to the coffee shop. But with Abraham behind him, they both made it with minimal rain. Abraham had more on his hair though. He was pretty tall, and Jack felt like if he was an inch or two taller, he too would’ve been wetter.

 “Eh, it’ll dry,” Abraham said to Jack’s look, and Jack nodded.

 “In that case, we should get our coffee then. Will you order or will I?”

 “I’ll order mine, you order yours, I’ll pay.”

 Jack shook his head, “Absolutely not. I’m paying. You don’t need to, besides, you asked me here and it’s only fair if I pay.” He wasn’t letting Abraham pay for their coffee. For his coffee. It was too much. To invite him out, to pick up the kids and drive them, hell, Jack felt like he needed to do something to help out. Abraham entrusted him with his kid’s care and he had a nice personality. Jack had to repay him.

 “No, I think it’s fair if I do.” Abraham countered, “You agreed and I could’ve been a killer.”

 “But you’re not,”

 “But I could’ve been. Now come on,” Abraham walked into the coffee shop regardless and Jack couldn’t help the friendly spite in his stomach. If Abraham wasn’t going to let him pay, he was going to pay anyway.

 But Jack forgot one thing.

 He didn’t like some of the workers here.

 Abraham started to talk with the barista at the front, the man himself, Czolgosz, and Jack waited until he had to speak. “Normal, medium. Just a bit of sugar and coconut creamer.” He said, and Czolgosz nodded before walking off to get the coffee. Jack looked around—a homely place. Warm lighting and dark brown walls, soft plush chairs, wooden tables. It had a few plants. It looked quite pretty, and Jack would admit that it was comfortable enough to do some work inside of. One of those days he would, but for now he wanted to just be near Abraham.

 But then he caught the eyes of one of the workers. Oswald. The other workers, baristas or cashiers or even the janitor, would call him Lucky Rabbit. His real name? Lee. His tag said so. When he met eyes with Jack, he had a darker look in his eyes than someone should. Mean. Jack suppressed a shiver—he didn’t like this guy’s stare. It was intimidating. He looked back and down at the floor. He didn’t hate the guy but Oswald gave him a bad, bad feeling. A very bad one. He found himself reaching for Abraham’s hand before he could stop himself and was very, very swift to pull back. But the slight incline to his hand from Abraham’s fingers was interesting.

 When the coffee came, both of them thanked Czolgosz. However, when told the price, he stopped Abraham from pulling out his wallet. “I’ll pay,” Jack said with a smile. Abraham watched, confused, while Jack swiped his card. He admittedly… did not carry extra change. He’d have to use an ATM or use his card, and that was it.

 Quite simply, Abraham was very confused when they stepped out of the shop (Jack pointedly ignored Oswald and whatever the hell the other’s name was. Broth? Both???). “Why’d you pay? I said I would.” He asked. He didn’t seem angry or upset, but just confused.

 “I’ll admit it was out of spite, but because I just didn’t want you to pay for everything. We have to work together, friends, right?” Jack said. Abraham thought for a second before he smiled a little and nodded.

 “I like that.” they made their way back into the car. Then, they began to drive back to Jack’s house. Though it was the weekend, Jack still needed to find a job, and Abraham likely had paperwork to do. The rain still hadn’t let up at all. It may’ve gotten worse.

 Jack took a long sip of his warm coffee. It hit the spot, right there. He loved warm coffee sometimes, especially on rainy days. Hot chocolate usually hit better, but coffee was pretty good on rainy days too. He should’ve asked for marshmallows though. That would’ve really made it better.

 They soon made it to Jack’s house and he stepped out with a hand over his head. He stepped around to Abraham’s side and the window was rolled down.

 “Thanks for the coffee, I enjoyed it, and I learned more about you. Hey, want to exchange numbers? Email is fun but I feel like it’s more convenient to text.” He said.

 Abraham smiled wider, “Sure! Let me… put my number into your phone…” Jack handed him his phone and it was a quick exchange to put his number into the phone, and Jack saw the number, and the title given. Just, ‘Abraham’. Nothing special. At least he could trust the guy not to put anything stupid. “I had fun as well, by the way.” Abraham added.

 “Good.”

 And then, with a quick lean out of the window, Abraham kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I kiss all of my friends on the cheek if they’re fine with it. You’re not against it, right? If so just tell me.”

…Jack was positively red. Very red. He could definitely tell. His cheeks must’ve been radiating heat, and he could not even tell if he was still alive or not.

 “I—no, not at all, you can do that, that’s fine,” he stammered, because he definitely was not against it. Abraham could’ve kissed him on the lips and he would’ve probably dropped his coffee out of shock. And he would’ve liked it, too. A lot.

 Abraham’s smile was beautiful as it turned into a happy grin. “Perfect. I’ll see you soon, Jack.”

 “I’ll see you soon, Abraham.”

 Then Abraham drove off and Jack went back into his house. Once he got back into the lonely, lonely place, he sipped at his coffee.

 Well that was something.

-

 Later that night, Jack was scrolling through ads online for a job. He wanted to find something good, something he could do for fun and like while getting paid. He liked business, but he liked writing. He liked animals, but Jackie could definitely hook him up with a modeling job if he even expressed one interest in it.

 He looked at the bottom listing on the seventh page.

 Help Wanted for an Animal Shelter!! $20 an hour, five days a week!!

 Washington’s Animal Shelter For Homeless And Sick Dogs

APPLY

 He blinked. Clicked.

 Maybe this could work out.

Chapter Text

 Jack would be a liar if he said he liked today. It—well—okay, he didn’t hate it. He just… didn’t like it. It’d remind him of how old he was, how everything was changing. And of course, Jackie would travel all the way across town for it.

 Now, today was his birthday, and he never got ‘excited’ for it. He always just muttered out a ‘happy birthday’ to himself in the mirror and ate whatever sugar they had in the fridge or freezer. Sometimes he’d get a ‘Happy birthday, Jack!’ from Polk if the guy remembered, or a few other people around town. He’d ignore the text from anyone other than Bobby or Jackie. And of course, Bobby would call today. He usually didn’t get time—too caught up in whatever his job required of him. But when Bobby did get time, he spent as long as he could on a call with Jack. Jack appreciated that part, and he appreciated Jackie coming over, but other than that he couldn’t care for it.

 But, of course—the kids always remembered.

 “Papa! Papa! Open the door!” John’s little voice called from behind the door, and Caroline was hyping Patrick up. The baby didn’t necessarily understand birthdays yet, as he hadn’t even had one, but if he saw his siblings get excited then maybe he’d be excited too.

 Jack rolled over in his bed and checked the time. 7 AM. Enough time to get dressed and take the kids to school, and he already knew that Jackie was waiting out in the living room. Whenever she brought them back for the week, she always made sure she saw him first before leaving. And Jack was mainly up. Mainly. Sometimes he’d have to be awoken by her pounding on the door with a Nerf gun.

 But, in spite of how tired he was and how much his back hurt, Jack smiled tiredly and got up. He put on a dark red button-up and some jeans, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. He wasn’t dead yet, and that was enough. He made sure he took his pills. If he didn’t, this would be one hell of a birthday.

 He opened the door and a small five-year-old came barreling in, hugging his legs like it was a lifeline. “Papa! Happy birthday, Papa!” the toddler shouted, almost jumping up and down. If Jack’s legs didn’t anchor him down, he was sure the kid would have been jumping. Jack smiled and put a hand on his son’s head.

 “Thanks, Johnny.”

 Caroline came in with all of the air of the elder sibling, Patrick held carefully in her arms. She couldn’t hug her father, so she gave him a side nudge.

 “Happy birthday, Dad.”

 Jack remembered that days like these, when his kids were up and happy and still there, were the only reason he still got up. Still pushed on and kept going, If he didn’t… if… he didn’t want to dwell on it, because it was too much for a time like this. Just woke up and kids surrounding him. Besides, Patrick’s small gurgle of appreciation reminded him of the nice atmosphere too. He managed to pry John Jr. off of him and walk through the doorway and into the kitchen, the light already on, and there she was: Jackie, on the couch, purse slung across her shoulder with the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

 “Happy birthday,” she said, and then, cheekily adding as she hugged him, “Bunny.”

 Jack got a laugh out of that. He told her it made no sense and yet she only winked when he asked for her to explain. He was hugging her tightly—a way to say I missed you. Even if it was only six days ago, he hugged her like this.

 “Thanks, Jackie.”

 Jackie pulled away and got something from her purse. A small chocolate cupcake with sprinkles and frosting, one small lit candle nudged into the frosting.

 “I got you this.”

 Jack could feel his smile grow wider and he blew the candle out, plucking it out of the frosting, licking the bottom and taking the cupcake from her to eat it himself. He put the candle into the trash bin and grabbed a cup of steaming coffee from the counter. She’d made it already, of course she had. She’d always been good at making coffee just right. It was what he liked about her ever since they first got together.

 When he got done eating, the kids had already clambered into the living room, in their own world. “Thanks for the cupcake and coffee.” Jack told her, blowing on the coffee lightly.

 “No problem—I figured that, since it’s your birthday, I’d do it myself.” Jackie responded, kissing his cheek and walking into the living room to entertain the kids. Jack checked his email, and noticed only one new one: from his new boss.

 George Washington <[email protected]>

  Jack.

 Since I read your resume and noticed your birthday is today, I would like to say Happy Birthday first. I would like to say secondly that I’m also giving you the day off—you start tomorrow instead. And you noted on your resume that you may have to leave work early to pick up your children, which is entirely fine by me, and you’ll only have to do those hours at some point during the weekend.

 Have a great day,

  George Washington

 Jack sighed in relief. As much as he was excited about working there, because, animals, he definitely wouldn’t do well with his mind cluttered about birthdays.

 He then checked his notifications, and it was a text. Abraham. He could already feel the strong, strong confusion. Because he really just expected the guy to ghost him, or force him to text first. He’d never been good at that. He couldn’t work up the courage if it was someone he really liked.

 Happy Birthday, Jack :) at some point, John Jr. told me, so I figured it best to tell you, as I’m sure you’ll be told again multiple times.

 And there he went: blushing like a schoolgirl. It was a simple Happy Birthday text—why the hell was he blushing so hard? He typed back a ‘Thanks’ and sent it, pushing his phone back into his pocket and walking to the living room. His shoes were in the corner near the door and the kids already looked mostly good to go for school. If he could spend a few minutes with his kids, then he would gladly do so. It wasn’t often.

 But Jackie had on a mischievous grin and he didn’t like it.

 “Caroline and John say you’ve got a boyfriend.”

 Oh God.

 “No, no,” Jack shook his head and pinched his nose bridge. “I do not. Kids, don’t tell your mother fake things.” he sipped at the coffee like it would save him from this hell. Of course, it wouldn’t, but he really wished it would.

 “But—you guys are friends, aren’t you? You like him, anyway.” Caroline said. Damn it, she was just as observant as her mother.

 “No, I do not,” Jack muttered.

 Jackie mumbled in his ear, “Last principal I dated turned out to be married already, you sure your sixty-year-old sugar daddy isn’t the same?” and Jack gently shoved her away, his cheeks burning, and sipped on the coffee again. It was too hot still and yet he found he couldn’t tell from the burning on his cheeks.

 “He isn’t sixty, don’t say that, and he isn’t a sugar daddy,” Jack had to quiet his voice down into a harsh whisper for that. But when he glanced at the kids, they were observing the carpet for absolutely no reason, as if it’d jump at them. John Jr looked ready to cause a science experiment. “he’s just a friend and we got coffee together, all right? Nothing else.” He wasn’t going to mention the cheek kiss, because it was far too early for that.

 “Nothing else? A coffee date definitely means something. Let’s not forget what you said on the phone.” Jackie was still grinning and Jack looked away, cheeks burning, coffee mug burning.

 This was already hell.

-

 All right, Abraham wasn’t freaking out, he was just—he was just nervous, all right? He was just nervous. That was why he employed his friends’ help.

Logman: guys please help

ThomasTheTrain: I mean personally you should get him lingerie

Logman: I AM NOT DOING THAT.

Washingmachine: okay, well, what’s his name?

Logman: Jack Kennedy. Well. John, F. Kennedy, but y’know.

Washingmachine: well what a coincidence. My new employee has the same name.

-

 And Abraham almost spit out his coffee.

-

Logman: WHAT!?

Washingmachine: yeah. I’d get him something casual though.

Logman: @illboxyou please help my friend you’re the only sensible married man here

ThomasTheTrain: hey what the hell

Washingmachine: no, no he’s right. …sort of. …well. …sooort of.

Illboxyou: get him a rose- no, no, get him a tie. That 100% compliments his eyes. Don’t get him a bright orange tie. If his eyes are green-gray like you’ve said, get him a dark, blue-gray tie. I’m also legally blind without my glasses so if he hates it don’t blame me

Logman: that’s not reassuring but thank you so much

Illboxyou: now im going on a personal break to talk to MY wife as the assembly just recessed, don’t bother me, this place is hell and they will rag on me if my phone goes off (if I hit Platt with a stapler would that be illegal)

ThomasTheTrain: simp (no I thought you knew this throw that bitch into hell with a stapler)

Illboxyou: redhead (thanks)

Illboxyou is offline.

ThomasTheTrain: COME ON

-

 Abraham put his phone into his pocket and checked the time. 7:35. He had… twenty-five minutes to get a specifically colored tie.

 Just great.

-

 Jack finished his coffee just as he got up. 7:40. “All right, come on, let’s get to school.” He said, and Jackie got up with him while the kids toddled to get their shoes on. He walked over to the front door and put his own on.

 “Don’t worry Jack, it’ll end well. If he’s a dick, just let me know and you’ll see.” Jackie kissed him on the cheek again and he sighed, smiling, and they shared one last look before she opened the front door to let the kids out. They left the house and Jack trailed behind them, their mother closing and locking the door. She got into the cab she had taken over (she wouldn’t use gas unless she had to or it was for the kids) and gave him one last, hopeful, optimistic look before she took off. Jack slid into Bitches-Love-Me-2000 and revved the engine up.

 “So, who’s ready for school?” he asked playfully, turning to the kids in the backseat.

 Both of them whined. Patrick giggled.

-

 What Jack doesn’t expect a single bit is Abraham, standing there in front of the school, looking quite nervous, wearing a fairly expensive-looking tie. He had a folded fabric in his hand and he was standing as straight and tall as a tree.

 Jack got John Jr. out of the car and Caroline waited patiently with Patrick. John stumbled into the school while grinning at Abraham, who returned a soft smile, and then they were both face-to-face, Jack smiling.

 “Hey.”

 “Hey. Uh,” Abraham thrust the fabric toward him, “I know I said it already but Happy Birthday. I got you a tie—pretty sure it should look good on you.”

 Jack could tell he was simply pink in the face, but he grabbed the tie gently (it looked very, very expensive) and held it close to his face. A dark, blue-gray. Perfect. Almost too perfect. But he’d leave it at Abraham knowing how to pair colors. “Thanks, Abraham. You didn’t have to get me anything.” He said.

 “But I did. I think…” Abraham turned to look inside of the school, through the glass doors. “…that Ulysses would like to meet you. I’ve told him I made a friend and, well, he also has some things to ask you concerning John’s summer.”

 When Abraham sent him a smile and nodded, before heading back inside, Jack almost told him to stay. Hell, he’d geared up his vocal cords to shout. But he watched. Just watched. And for just a few moments, he let himself revel in the fact that his crush got him something.

 Then came a bearded figure, standing shorter but bigger than Jack, a dark navy-blue short sleeve button-up, black slacks, and leather boots. His hair, combed to one side. And he had piercingly blue eyes—ones Jack wouldn’t hesitate to call pretty. But he wore a kind smile and looked very familiar—this was the man he’d seen a few times in the past, either in greeting or in a Parents’ Meeting. Grant. The man Abraham just told him about.

 Grant held a hand out, and Jack took it. He shook considerably well. “I’m Ulysses S. Grant, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 “Ah—uh, Jack Kennedy. My kid goes here.”

 “John Jr? Yeah, I know. He’s a good kid, y’know, props to you.” Grant smiled wider and Jack chuckled fondly. He liked this guy already.

 “Thanks. Does the S in your name mean anything?”

 “Nope!” Grant looked ready to tell a story, but held himself back. “I have some things to discuss with you, it’s nothing bad, if you have—”

 “Papa! We’re going to be late!”

 Jack almost entirely forgot about Caroline.

 “I’m sorry-we—could we do this later? I’ll come back later, I swear, I just need to… you understand, don’t you?” Jack said, gesturing to the car with his thumb while he began to walk backward. Grant waved it away. Literally.

 “Eh, I understand. Safe travels!”

 Jack nodded in return and was quick to get back into his car. “All right, sorry, Caroline. Let’s go.” He checked the time. 7:50.

 God save him.

-

 He’d successfully gotten Caroline to school (admittedly a little late) and was checking Patrick into a daycare. He would have to make good on his promise to come back later. If he didn’t, well, it’d be a bad look, not just to Grant but to Abraham. And Jack couldn’t, wouldn’t disappoint the man.

 He wasn’t going to do that, to either of them.

 “Hey, Happy Birthday, Jack,” Polk called before he left, and Jack looked at the man. He smiled, a way of saying his thanks. He and Polk were a bit more than acquaintances. One of these days, he’d have to ask for his number, he had a ton of book recommendations, maybe a few memes if he fished through his saved images long enough. Then he left the building and went back into Bitches-Love-Me-2000.

 So he pulled back up to the school and made sure to lock his car before he found himself back in the building. Beige walls and drawings all over, clearly made by young children. Loud noises from behind most doors, children or a teacher. He recognized only one of the voices—that’s Grant. And then said man leaves a room from a dark green door, closing it gently behind himself, a clipboard in hand and a happy smile on his face. Jack wasn’t sure he’d seen a teacher—or assistant—that happy while dealing with children.

 Grant noticed him and he approached with a smile. The clipboard was definitely thick with paper. “Jack! Jack, hey,” he adjusted the clipboard in his hands. “do you have time now?”

 “I sure do. What’d you need to tell me?” Jack shoved his hands into his pockets.

 Grant flipped the clipboard to face Jack, and it had minimal coloring, words written in Sharpie. Bullet points and zig-zagged outlines on the edge of the paper. “You see, we just wanted to know if you’d sign John up for the camp activities in summer. It’s a six-day thing, they get Sunday off. Just out in the local forest, deep enough they can explore but not too deep that we get lost. We’ll have many activities. It’s entirely free, too. This year’s donations really came in.” he smiled the entire time he explained, and Jack didn’t take too long to decide.

 If his son didn’t want to, then he’d take his signature back. But he grabbed the pen from the clipboard’s rings and scrawled his name on. “Yeah, then in that case, I’ll do it. It sounds fun. Does it go through part of the summer or the entirety?”

 “Oh, the entirety, and thank you. A few other parents signed up for it—including Abraham, a couple of his own friends, and—” then a short little child, messy, sandy-ish hair hugged Grant’s legs. “Quentin, what have we said about interrupting?” Grant bent down and ruffled the boy’s hair. He didn’t seem irritated.

 “’m sorry, Mr. Grant, I just had t’ tell you Polly n’ Archie are stagin’ a revolution in the classroom.”

 Grant was on his feet in an instant. “I’m sorry, Jack, really am, I just have to uh… interfere with that.” he sent him one last smile from behind his shoulder as he sped down the hall. “Thanks!”

 Jack gave a big grin. “No problem, Grant!”

 He checked his watch. Only 9:02. He still had a hell of a day left.

-

 It actually hadn’t gone that bad. He found that not only was Abraham definitely immune to any of his dark humor, but he enjoyed it. Of course, he said more… lighthearted jokes, and Jack didn’t mind. He never laughed too hard at them but for some reason, since it was him, he couldn’t stop. And didn’t that sound stupid? It was a crush, on a friend. Somebody who would literally never like Jack in that way at all.

 He checked his watch—6 PM, he’d have to start making dinner for the kids—and within half a second his phone buzzed. With the kids in the next room he quickly got it out of his pocket and read the Caller ID. Best Brother. Bobby, all right. Definitely Bobby. He swiped and then, “Hey Jack.” …God it felt good to hear that voice. He could already feel the smile on his face.

 “Hey, Bobby.”

 “Happy Birthday. I know I can’t be there, but… I figured I could still call.”

 Jack’s smile grew even bigger. “No, it’s fine. You calling is more than enough. How’s work been?”

 “Eh. Tough. Some of these guys… they’re politicians and they act five! I can barely get through a meeting without wanting to clunk one over the head. Some of them,” Bobby’s tone shifted from tired to friendly. “they’re not that bad, but it’s not many of them. How have you been? Jackie told me you may be uh… together with someone.” Jack groaned at that, closing his eyes. Of course, he’d have to pay Jackie in trashy movies if he wanted her to stop. Watching trashy movies with him was her favorite thing.

 “I’m not. He’s a friend, and though I wish he was more, he won’t be because he’s not into me. But I’ve gotten a job and the kids aren’t dead, so I’m doing great.” He looked through the cupboards as he talked. “He got me a tie if that means anything. Oh, and we got coffee. But other than that, life’s been as it has been. Utterly horrible.”

 Bobby was definitely smiling. “A tie? Coffee? Oh, he’s into you. Jackie told me,” a shuffle. “he has kids. Have you met any of ‘em?”

 “His youngest. I got a glimpse of more of them, got the name of one, Robert, who I can assume is the oldest. But Will… William is pretty cool.” Jack replied, having to immediately stop himself from saying Willie. He would never get over that.

 “That’s great! You know each other’s kids… got coffee… Jack, there’s really something, take the chance, man.” Bobby said. And for a minute, Jack really considered it. He could. He could just blurt it out and run into traffic or he could say it over text and never check his phone again. But that wouldn’t be fair to Abraham, would it? …No. So he’d have to take the chance and see what would happen. He didn’t want to, but he’d have to at some point.

  “…Maybe.”

 “You should, you really should,” Bobby said until an opening of a door came from his side, and he whispered into the phone quickly, “Jack, I’m really sorry. I have to go—I was not told about this meeting.”

 Jack only chuckled. “It’s fine. You do your thing, you’re a politician, man. Give my regards to Eth. It seems she’ll need it.” He joked, because he would never imagine having six kids. And they weren’t even done. He could only wonder what the next few years would be like inviting all of his little nephews and nieces into his house.

 “Oh be quiet, now bye, and have a good birthday, Jack.”

 “…you have a good night, Bobby.” He would never admit it—never—but Bobby sounded more like a brother than ever at that point. Even if Jack was older, Bobby always made sure he was all right. When Jack was at his lowest, Bobby was there. Getting him food and talking to him and encouraging him that it wasn’t worth it. And he was right, because Jack got to see his kids grow up.

 The call ended and Jack put his phone back into his pocket. He glanced at the stove clock: 6:14 PM. He would have to start dinner, as he’d paused his rummaging without noticing.

 When he finally got dinner made and sat down with the kids (Patrick in his own chair Jack built. He was not spending two hundred dollars on a goddamn chair.), he smiled at all of them. These were his kids. These were his little angels that he loved more than anything else, and he would never regret that night.

 “So, John, how do you feel about summer camp?”

  John Jr.’s smile only reinforced that thought.

 He went to bed on his birthday with a smile for the first time in five years.

Chapter Text

 Jack got up with a groan. He could already hear his alarm going off. Of course, it was his first day for his job. He liked dogs, and he liked animals in general, and so he didn’t have a bad feeling. However, it was meeting new people that he wasn’t all too excited about. Last time he had a job they gave him dirty looks when he accidentally exposed himself for being bisexual, and any older employer he’s had has been exceptionally creepy. So no—he wasn’t looking forward to it entirely, but he also wasn’t going to hate it or gloom over it.

 He got out of bed and put on the best outfit he could, to look sophisticated, yet not overly formal. A black button-up, the tie that Abraham got him, black shorts and his boots that Jackie got him for Christmas once. When they were still together. He made sure his hair was looking fine and that he put on enough cologne and matching deodorant, along with a bit of perfume for the inside of his wrists (he likes the smell okay?) and his smile was extra shiny. He pulled out his phone and opened up Jackie’s contact.

  Jackinthebox: Jackie I wont lie im sort of nervous, you think ill do good?

 The reply was instant.

 JackieButNotJackson: you’ll do fiiineeee jack, besides, what’s the worst that can happen? And you know im always able to give you a spot on the male model line. All you have to do is call my office, tell them your name, and they’ll start asking you the forum questions. Immediate acceptance. Are you wearing the tie abe got you?

 Jackinthebox: yeah, lol. Thanks for the help, Jackie.

 JackieButNotJackson: np, jack. No problem. Healthy ex’s stick together.

 Jack turned off his phone and put it back into his pocket. He straightened his tie, smiled again, and could feel the confidence glow in himself. He could do this, and nobody could stop him. He walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs, the kids already dressed. Politely, Caroline got herself and her siblings dressed, because she knew her Papa was going to do his big adult job and he needed all the help he could get. So she made sure Johnny brushed his hair and did not mess with his dinosaurs (no matter how cool the glow-in-the-dark one was), and that Patrick was put into his big baby clothes. He was getting older and Papa would have to throw him a birthday. “Hello, my dears,” Jack said, ruffling Caroline’s hair and grabbing coffee. 7:20 AM.

 “Hi, Papa.” Caroline said. She’d already finished eating.

 “Papa, why do you look so fancy?” John Jr. asked, fidgeting with a cube in his hands.

 “I have work today, buddy. I have to look presentable.” Jack replied—putting in one sugar cube for his coffee, and then another two. He’d need it.

 John Jr. smiled deviously. “For your boyfriend you mean?”

 Jack almost dropped the coffee, and he swallowed back the creamer he’d quickly slipped into his mouth when he was sure the kids wouldn’t notice. He almost choked on it. “No, John, I don’t have one.” He said, but his cheeks said a different story. John Jr. and Caroline shared a look as Patrick played with his final apple slice.

 “Mr. Lincoln is really zone-y. Maybe he’s thinkin’ ‘bout you, Papa.” John Jr. added, watching his father’s face turn even redder.

 “John, you know that’s not true. He’s probably thinking of work.” Jack said because he wanted to believe that, but part of him knew John was right. Part of him just knew his son was right. That Abraham hadn’t zoned out once during their coffee grab and yet, it would be so in-sync for a crush to make you zone out. And he’d caught himself zoning out thinking of Abraham a lot more than once. Him, and his smile, and his hair, and damn his amazing build, and his personality and laugh and eyes. So maybe Johnny was right. Maybe he was. But he couldn’t let himself fall into delusions so quickly.

 “Mhm, sure he is Papa.” Caroline piped, clicking her tongue. Jack stared at the stove. 7:23.

 “Come on, kiddos. Let’s get there early, yeah? John you’re friends with the uh… what—what’s their gang name again?”

 “The White House gang!”

 “Yeah, you want to see them right?”

 “Yeah, yeah!”

 “Then come on.”

-

 Jack made sure the kids reached school early. Patrick would be checked into daycare and he’d come to visit during his break. When he dropped John off, the toddler went dashing to the field beside the school. He had promptly crashed into the same sandy blonde kid Jack had seen before, Quentin. A dark brunette boy comes over too, soccer ball in hand, and a colored child and child with black hair approach as well. As long as John was making friends, that was all that really mattered. He smiled at the sight and waved when Quentin looked up—the kid waved back before dragging Jack’s kid off to play with them.

 He looked back to Caroline, who still sat in the back, waiting to be dropped off to her own school. “You make any friends like that?” he asked, hand on the steering wheel, one arm draped on the back of the seat.

 Caroline looked up from her small child tablet (he wasn’t going to get her a normal one so soon. He would still go to jail if a grown man touched his kid, though. That’d be worth it.) and nodded. “Patty.”

 “Patty?” Jack kicked the vehicle back into reverse, and stared at the windows of the school for a minute. No tall figure, no beautiful eyes. A bit disappointing, if he was honest. “You’ve never brought her up before. What’s she like? Is she nice? Does she share any classes with you?”

 Caroline rolled her eyes. “Papa, don’t make it weird. She’s obviously nice and we share two classes. We’re both in book club.”

 Jack chuckled, smiling widely. “All right, all right. Fine.”

 Now, to drop her off. Patrick’s giggle only reinforced he had to haul his ass into gear because twenty minutes to drop two kids off and get to work would be very, very hard.

-

 Caroline was fairly easy to drop off and that only left him with Patrick, and he had to go just slightly faster. He wasn’t going to speed through the fucking street because he had a kid in the back and he’d rather be late than risk his kid. Patrick coo-ed and giggled at the increase of speed as Jack worried his ass off, trying hard to get there on time, and when he got there, he unbuckled and got out so fast he almost tripped. “All right, come on, Patrick,” he picked the baby up and ran to the Daycare. Instead of seeing Polk he saw James Garfield, one of the other guys that worked there.

 “Hey, sorry I’m almost late,” he said, handing his kid to the man. He’d know if the guy did something wrong, because his hands would be covered in blood within ten minutes of knowing.

 “Oh, it’s fine—” and before Garfield could say anything else Jack was speeding out like a speed demon.

 He checked the time in the car.

 7:56.

 Fuck.

-

 Jack may’ve broken the speed limit and may’ve almost hit a pole but he successfully got there on time. The building looked nice, small but pretty and well-kept. It had plants and light green paint, a blue top, similar to that of a diner’s. It looked fairly cozy, if a bit homey. Welcoming. Like a family-owned business, of some sort. He got out and took a deep breath. He didn’t have enough time to calm down; he had to get in there before he came in late. He was informed on the site there was no checking in, checking out system. They’d just review the footage of the 24/7 cameras and see when you came in, when you left. That, and the last time they tried, their last worker wrote ‘Dickhead’ all over the pink slips of paper.

 He walked through the doors and was greeted with grey hair pulled back into a black hair-tie and a dark blue button-up (sleeves up), khakis, and polished shoes. He looked exactly like Jack’s boss, Washington, so he cleared his throat and smiled. “Sorry I was almost late. I can assume you’re my boss?”

 “That I am! I’m glad you’re here, please, call me Washington.” Washington came over and shook Jack’s hand firmly, which Jack liked. He liked a man with a good handshake and he wore a black rubber bracelet on his wrist. Like a casual suburban dad. “Do you want the basics?”

 “I’d like that, if you don’t mind,” Jack said, and the two men began walking down a hall and into a large room where Washington opened a gate, they stepped through, and Jack was shown a bunch of dogs in very big cages. Obviously, one for each. The vet definitely didn’t feed into the sad-small-cage-horrible-care vets like the movies did. He was glad of that, at least—he wouldn’t have to worry about hating his job and wanting to adopt all of the adorable ass pets he was looking at.

 “So, all you need to do is make sure they don’t act out and make sure they’re in good health. We care about our animals here.” Washington continued, walking over to one caged dog and letting it out. Jack knew they were well taken care of by the way the light brown, short-furred dog jumped up at the man, barking happily on its hind legs begging for a pet, looking well-fed and well-groomed. Washington was all too happy to indulge and smiled as he pet the dog. “Make sure they’re let out to roam every thirty minutes, some of them, fifteen. It’ll clarify which. They’re very active but very friendly, so you don’t need to worry about them hurting you.”

 “Good. Anything specific for any of them?” Jack stuffed his hands into his pockets and the dog was on him in an instant. Jumping, barking, sniffing. He was new and they all could tell. But he pet the dog anyway, and it wagged its tail, so that was a good sign.

 “Ah, as in special treatment? No. You can handle the dogs, I handle the cats with my co-worker, Burr.”

 Oh yes, Jack had heard about it on Facebook. The rivalry of Hamilton and Burr at the vet volunteer place he’d never managed to remember the name of. “The same Burr that the Hamilton guy fought in the parking lot and lost to?” he asked, petting the dog more and looking at the others. They were all so adorable, and he loved it here already.

 Washington chuckled. “Yes. I had to let Hamilton go unfortunately, not only because of that, but because… well. He was also getting handsy with another bi-monthly volunteer, Thomas Jefferson. I love the guy, but he’s very active. He was in the news a while back, he has a young political career, I don’t know what news channel you watch—if you watch any.”

 “Oh, I do, I heard of it.” Jack continued to talk with Washington for a bit longer before he started to do his job. He refilled the water bowls and petted every single dog (every single dog) and spent time with them. He let them out at their appropriate times and made sure they were happy.

 When he was done, he went to check on Patrick for his break.

 “Hey, little man, how are you?” he had said to his baby son when he made it, picking him up. He still smelled like a dog. Literally. But nevertheless, Patrick gurgled out a happy coo and reached for his father, who was all too happy to indulge in his boy’s request and hug him tightly. “Thanks for watching him, I have to go back to work but thanks, Garfield.” He said to Garfield who watched beside them.

 “No problem—Polk’s out so I have to take over for today.”

 Jack smiled. “Good for you, man.”

 He went back to work, reluctantly, as he really did love his son, and checked his phone. One message from Lincoln.

 Abraham: My friend told me you start work today; good luck, you got this :)

Jack’s cheeks burned hotter than a stove at that and he put his phone back into his pocket. Damn, he was in deep.

 He went about work and then picked up the kids, chatted, and made dinner. Once he was done, he kept rereading the message until he managed to fall asleep, which was pretty early. He made sure he took his pills still. All of the bending down for dogs and lifting really put a strain on his back and he took some pain medicine as well. He’d made sure he replied with a Thanks, I think I did :) to Abraham and plugged his phone in.

 Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

Chapter Text

 Jack was never one to go to office parties. They weren’t bad, necessarily. He didn’t care as much for them as normal parties. At least at normal parties, you could have alcohol and (potentially) sneak in a bit of weed. The last one he went to, someone brought cocaine, so that turned him off from them even more. Jackie would throw one every year and it’d always be like a normal party, but they still had restrictions, even if she owned the entire damn company. She couldn’t afford for her reputation to get slandered for ‘reckless management of the company’ for a little bit of hard alcohol.

 But the text from Abraham took him off guard.

 Abraham

Heyy so, I’m super sorry to ask, like, super, but, we’re throwing an office party and I’ll look like a mega loner (not to mention loser) if I go alone. Most of my friends have partners (you’ll meet them too!) and I don’t want to be the lonely one who sits in the corner. So if it’s not too much to ask, and if it is then tell me, could you come with me??? Just as a friend dw! If not that’s okay too.

 It took him an embarrassingly long time to think of an answer. His first thought was an immediate yes, an immediate ‘when’s the party’, but he didn’t want to seem too eager. And he didn’t want to say no, either. Saying no would just be a dick move, wouldn’t it? Abraham specified he’d be going as a friend, so it wouldn’t seem weird. It wouldn’t be a mix-up. They look like a couple, but they aren’t, even if Jack really wanted them to be. And even more embarrassingly, it made him smile. Wide. Like a schoolgirl being told her crush wants to bring her to a big end-of-year party. So, he typed a short, not-too-eager response.

 Jack

This is out of the blue but sure. Where’s the party?

 The immediate response made him feel good.

 Abraham

Unfortunately, like people who DON’T HAVE A BIG BUDGET, we had to clear out the gym. But it won’t be some ham-cheese-sandwich-with-water-and-non-alcoholic-drinks affair, we’ll have some wine and actual food. One of us—Sacagawea, the dear—knows how to cook and another teacher, Garfield, helped get the wines. I don’t know how many of us will attend.

Jack

Sounds great. I’ll come in a tie, is that fine? :)

 Abraham

Perfect!! Thank you so much Jack.

 Jack

Hey, no problem. The kids will have a babysitter anyways.

 Abraham

Good. I got my kids a babysitter too- their mother wanted to but she’s held up with work. See you at 9pm!! :D

 Jack could physically feel the burn on his cheeks. It was there, and it was persistent. He put his phone away and took a deep breath. Okay: an office party. This was entirely platonic and fun and not a date. Entirely not a date. He could do this. He’d gone to office parties before—how hard could this be? Admittedly then he wasn’t neck-deep in a crush but, it’s still the same premise. So he’d be fine. One-hundred-percent fine.

 At least, he hoped.

 He really fucking hoped.

 “Hey Ted, hey, listen I know this is really—and I mean really unexpected but can you watch the kids? Just for tonight. Oh my god thank you—uh, you can get here at 8:40. I’ll leave at 8:45. Just until I come back—probably 11 or 12. O-Okay thanks. Bye.”

 Work was very, very hard to focus on.

-

 Jack made sure he had on the pretty tie Abraham got him and a nice, formal yet flattering button-up. He put on his fancier dress shoes for this. Not over-the-top, thousand-dollar shoes, but more expensive than the jogging shoes he usually wears. And that would just be embarrassing. To go to some office party and wear jogging shoes with a tie? He’d be asking for someone to tell him how mismatched it was. He shaved what little stubble he had, applied deodorant and a bit of cologne, and watched out the door for Ted. Ted Kennedy, his brother, his friend. Someone he rarely saw but someone he appreciated the sight of nonetheless. He was becoming a lawyer, just as Bobby had, right before he became part of the state senate.

 And what was Jack? Just a worker at a vet. A fucking vet. His brothers were bigshots in law and politics and he was dealing with animals. He was the linear; and while it wasn’t horrible, it made him feel like it wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough to please their father, anyway. His father wanted him to go into law. His father almost demanded it once, when he was in an argument with him, over Rosemary. And he was told to become a lawyer if he ever wanted to even try to reach his father’s expectations.

 But Jack was never a people-pleaser and he won’t. He won’t go into some big stuffy job where he sits on his ass and yells at people in an assembly or a court. Too formal, too repetitive, too boring. And people go for each other’s skins. They skin the other alive, take them down to their bone marrow and leave them to rot amongst the other hundred corpses. He’d never be a corpse, and he’d never be the skinner among cattle, even when he’d be just as discardable.

 When he saw Ted’s black, shiny Oldsmobile, he looked back to the kids. John sat in a very big crewneck (Jack’s, but he stole it) and Caroline in an even bigger sweater (Once again, Jack’s, but one of his few purposely-oversized sweaters.). Patrick wore a little star-designed t-shirt and his diaper.

 “You’ll be good for Uncle Ted, right?” he asked.

 “We’ll be as good for Uncle Teddy as we are you, Papa.” Caroline responded, a smile on her tiny face. They called him Uncle Teddy—even to the man’s face—and would likely never stop. Jack sighed and opened the front door, his youngest brother standing there, wearing a black denim jacket over a dull blue t-shirt. The classic Kennedy smile was painted onto his face.

 “Jack.”

 “Come on, it’s been a bit, hug me,” Jack wouldn’t continue with such formal greetings. They were brothers, after all. He hugged his brother tightly, getting a pat on the back in return, and he shut the door while Ted got himself re-acquainted with the children.

 “Oh really? And you’ve been collecting your trains very… masterly?” Ted crisscrossed on the ground between the two eldest children as he gave a little wave to Patrick, who cooed back, happy to see the man he couldn’t really form words to just yet.

 “Yeah! Yeah! I got the sparkly green one a few days ago,” Johnny said with a beaming little grin, holding his ocean blue one at the same time. “and Caroline saw the shiny purple one in a store and we used our pocket money to get it, it was…” he looked at his sister, trailed off, as though he didn’t remember. “…was it on sale?”

 Caroline smiled. “Yes, it was.”

 John looked back to his uncle, smile still there. “It was on sale, so we bought it and showed Dad and he said we made a good choice, because he thought the s-shade of purple was pretty!” he looked at his father, who huffed out a chuckle, walking over and ruffling the boy’s hair while he made his way to the kitchen to grab the plastic-infused cookie the kids made Ted.

 “And I think it still is. Oh, the kids made you this cookie, for your inevitable visit.” Jack handed the cookie to Ted, who hesitated to take it but slowly brought it into his hands. It had small little plastic dinosaurs in it, tiny enough to eat, and colorful chocolate chips. The dinosaurs were practically one with the cookie dough. Along with the little plastic glitters, it was a key to becoming sick. But he took it out of its Ziplock and nodded approvingly.

 “It’s… beautiful.”

 Jack grinned. “Well, are y’ going to eat it? No doubt in front of the chefs who graciously made it.”

 Ted took one bite and had to hold back a gag as he chewed. The plastic definitely didn’t taste well. “It’s—” he almost threw up if the way he curled into himself said anything. “—perfect.” he swallowed part of the deathtrap and looked ready to hurl. John and Caroline cheered and hugged and Patrick clapped his hands. Jack could only revel in the fact his brother was already regretting this. Admittedly, they had their fair share of petty quarrels as kids, and it never failed to make him feel joy when his brother was put in a silly yet torturous situation.

 “I should be going now—be good,” he said, grabbing his keys and opening the front door.

 “We will!” the two kids said.

 Jack looked at Ted, who gave him the look of Never do this to me again. “And that goes for you too, Teddy Bear.”

 Ted rolled his eyes fondly, fighting back a smile, “Yeah yeah, just go.”

 Jack stepped out into the cold air and spotted Abraham’s car pulling up. He was quick to approach and get in once the door unlocked, sliding in beside that beautiful man that he still really wanted to kiss. This time, Abraham was in the turtleneck, with a knitted dark-brown sweater vest. He hated to say it, to think it, but it looked really good on him. “Hey.” He said, getting comfortable in his seat. Abraham smiled and turned the radio on to low.

 “Hey. Sorry for such short notice, I wanted to bring Mary but, she was busy.”

 “Mary? The kids’ mother?” he asked. No matter the jealousy in his chest. Obviously, Abraham didn’t seem like the type to get with someone behind his partner’s back, or get back with an ex. And besides—it was over so he didn’t have to worry. It wasn’t like he’d get with his kid’s principal anyway.

 “Oh, yeah, but of course we’re divorced. But, it was a mutual split, don’t worry, I’m not going to lay out some overtly emotional ramble on you if that’s what you think.” Abraham said, and Jack smiled softly as the jealousy seceded. He could trust the guy’s word, because it was so easy to. “And uh—the party won’t be super formal either. It’s just going to be teachers and a few others, along with any plus-ones. I’ll introduce you to three people but, the rest, not too sure. We’ll see if they want to meet you.”

 “And who’s the three people? Are you sure they’re not killers?” he asked, and Abraham laughed at that, and it was so good. He loved that. He loved him. Maybe he shouldn’t of, but something told him that he should. That this was good, and Abraham was good, and that was definitely true. Too good. Beautifully good.

 “I am, unless you include the sport of hunting to be killing. That’s Theodore’s thing. There’s Thomas, who used to work at the vet my friend runs. He’s currently writing a book but he’s a lawyer. There’s George, who runs a vet,” Jack was definitely interested in meeting ‘George’ now. “and then Theodore, who’s part of the assembly. He’s pretty progressive, and does talk politics,” Abraham gave him a very short glance but kept his eyes on the road. “I hope that doesn’t bother you. If it does I may have to text him to not bring up politics at this party.”

 Jack shook his head. He could handle different opinions, even if he wanted to scream as they were told. “No, it’s fine. If he does, oh well. Is he the guy I’ve heard about in the papers, who threw a pen at Platt’s head once?”

 “Mhm.”

 So Abraham made friends with a lot of people—understandable. A lot of differing people. One who runs a vet, one who’s a lawyer, and the other is in the assembly. If his instincts tell him right then George is the same guy who is also his boss. That’ll certainly be weird. If a bit awkward.

 They made small talk for the rest of the drive until they made it at 9:01, and were quick to get in and through the school to the gym. He’d only been in there once. The gym teacher, John Adams, was one feisty man. His son went to the school a few blocks down—made for kids in middle school exclusively. After that it was the high school across town, so he could sense the moving that a lot of parents would be doing. Grant was the first to approach with a red solo cup of lemonade.

 “Abraham! And Jack, good to see you both,” he nodded, and they nodded right back. “fashionably a minute late, as always.”

 Abraham smiled. Like this wasn’t new to their friendship dynamic. “At least I’m not thirty minutes late because I forgot.”

 Grant flushed red in the cheeks. “I thought I told you to stop bringing that up, especially in front of Jack, who didn’t need to know that.” but regardless, he led the two to the middle of the party, where three men—and oh fuck one of them was his boss. He should’ve expected this. He should’ve entirely expected this, because it was too perfect.

 “Jack.” George—no—no his boss said first, nodding politely. They’d already shook hands before, there was no need to do it again.

 “Sir.” He nodded right back.

 The ginger one got up, around Jack’s height, and stuck a pale hand out. “Thomas Jefferson.”

 Jack shook his hand firmly, as he was always told a good handshake, a firm one, a strong one, made a good impression. “Jack Kennedy.” Then Jefferson sat back down and he had the spectacled one to greet last. Blue eyes—something Jack didn’t spot in Jefferson.

 “Theodore Roosevelt.” And then he shook the man’s hand—and damn was his grip firm. He had a smaller hand, but a powerful grip, along with a gigantic ring finger on his left hand. Jack hesitantly nodded, smiling, because he had to act like this one wasn’t the one he was specifically warned about. Then, finding a place to sit, both he and Abraham sat down and Jack picked at the ice-cold water bottle. He screwed it open.

 “So, how’s your guys’ night?”

 “Oh, it’s been great, but this guy decided to bring his wife and now it’s like a sappy shitshow with him every single time,” Jefferson leaned over and looked directly at Roosevelt who stuck his middle finger up.

 “George brought Martha and you brought a bag of candy, don’t act like you’re innocent. Grant and Harry brought their wives too.”

 Jack could only share a look with Abraham. His friends were interesting. The taller man only shrugged, as if he was used to it more than he could get used to a routine.

 Jefferson sipped at his drink and Grant turned to Jack. “So, how have you liked the town? And the job, of course.” He asked, and Jack bit his lip in thought. He liked the town and he liked the job, but it had its perks, and the guy was definitely looking for an in-depth answer.

 “Well, it’s something, I’ll tell you that. I like the town but it has one too many plastic bags floating around, a bit too much for when I take the kids out,” at that he saw a glint in Roosevelt’s eye and he knew once he was done he’d go off, “and the job’s pretty cool. I like working with animals after all, so of course it’ll be fine. I like that the dogs have big cages and a good supply of food and water—it’s important to treat animals with respect, because they’re as much a being as we are, and deserve to be treated with as much consideration as you’d give a human.”

 Roosevelt grinned big and wide. Toothily. “I entirely agree! You know, I’ve been working to clean up those bags and all of the trash in the city, like I did in the police department.” He leaned over the table and looked at Abraham. “You know how to pick them well, he has a good head that could definitely go far into politics.”

 Jack flushed, shaking his head, no matter how much he knew the guy was right, because his father had told him the same thing when he was younger. “Oh, no, I don’t plan on going into politics any time soon. You already fill that spot, and besides, it’s not really my thing.”

 “Hm,” Jefferson leaned back. “well then I have to advise you not to go into law either. It definitely won’t be your thing either, and I’m already in that spot. Only strong men know how to manage it, and the case with James was surely something.” He… Jack… Jack didn’t know how to feel about that. The emphasis on strong. He narrowed his eyes at the man. And now that he thought about it, this guy seemed oddly familiar. James… James Madison? So he did know this guy. The one who worked with Madison in a trial where their client was involved with some familial murder charge and had to be brought into court for it. He couldn’t remember if they won or not.

 This was also the same guy who had forced himself onto a fourteen-year-old, and that seemed to be why Abraham was also staring at him.

 “You’re the one who raped that fourteen-year-old.”

 He must’ve dropped the ball because soon George and Roosevelt were staring right at him. Jefferson was staring daggers into his soul. “What?” and yet, Abraham and Grant looked ready to encourage him to continue.

 “Yeah. You did.”

 Jefferson rolled his eyes. “I’m going to get a drink.”

 The ginger left and Jack drank the water slowly, watching his retreating form, orange hair ever present in the small group of people, and he really didn’t think the conversation was over. It wasn’t. It absolutely wasn’t and the guy left like a pussy. He took a deep breath and smiled at Grant. “What’s it like working with Abraham?”

 Grant jumped up. Like he didn’t expect that. He sipped at his lemonade and smiled, eyes beaming with joy. “Great! He gives me just enough work so I feel useful but not overworked, and he’s great, and nice, and the kids are nice too, and I even get my own office! The paperwork is a bit boring but, it’s really not that bad.”

 Jack was glad to hear that. Abraham didn’t seem like the type to overwork his colleagues but, you never know.

 “Good. I can imagine the kids can be a hassle sometimes?”

 “Oh, yes, though I’m glad your son behaves well. But the rest can be good or a bit under the weather in terms of behaving.” Grant took a sip of his lemonade again. “Polly’s a really good artist and the two Roosevelt boys are rarely apart, and—and Margaret plays the piano a lot. Willie reads a lot and does put little plastic bugs under my desk, but other than that he’s a sweetheart. Tricia and Julia play together all the time. Jacky Custis gives me drawings, as does your son.”

 “Really? What does he draw?” Jack could already tell Johnny drew a lot of different things.

 “Well—he draws stuff from cars to sharks, sometimes he draws the occasional cowboy, sometimes he even draws a lawyer. Or well, a guy in a suit that he labels a lawyer, sometimes he even draws you.” Grant replied, and Jack’s smile only grew. He loved that. He loved that his son could be so creative he drew sharks and cowboys and cars. Hell, even him? His kid was amazing. He always wondered what John Jr. drew at school, since he never got to see it. But now he knew, and now he knew he could trust that it was nothing bad, nothing to be concerned about.

 “It sounds great. I’m glad he’s expressing some of his expertise, bound to be Van Gogh one day,” he said, gaining a laugh from Grant and the rest of them, especially Abraham. And damn it, his cheeks felt warm again.

 The rest of the office party wasn’t so bad and he actually enjoyed it, along with the wines, and the food. There was a lot of food. The school cook, Sacagawea, a part-time author, only waved away any compliments with a smile and said, “It’s nothing.” But it was still really good, so Jack made sure he thanked her. Grant introduced him to Garfield and Adams and his own wife, Julia.

 “Julia, this is Jack. Jack, this is Julia.” He said. Jack could tell right from the start that the two were hopelessly enthralled with one another. Grant looked at his wife like she was the only person in the room, like she was his moon, his sun, and his stars, all at the same time. He wondered if he looked at Abraham that way—but it was so cute that he fought back his own smile at it. It was obviously not new to everybody else if the way nobody caught it was anything to go by.

 “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Jack shook her hand politely and found her handshake was better than he thought.

 “It’s nice to meet you too, Jack.”

 “We managed to get a babysitter, thankfully, but our kids are getting old enough to take care of the house themselves. Our Jesse has proved to be quite the leader.” Grant said, much to his wife’s amusement, as she laughed. But Jack understood the want to show off your kid’s accomplishments to the world and he knew he’d done that exact same thing more than once.

 “I’m glad to hear i—” he was cut off by Abraham shouting.

 “Jack! They have blue donkey cookies!”

 “THIS IS NOT THE PROGRESSIVE ANIMAL, CARTER.”

 “I’M SO SORRY THEODORE I SWEAR I THOUGHT IT WAS THE SAME AS THE DEMOCRATIC—"

 Jack could only apologize quickly to Julia. “I’m so sorry, I need to go check that out, as a Dem myself,” but Julia shook her head.

 “It’s fine—you go, you too, Ulyss. I can see you’re eager.”

 Grant kissed his wife on the cheek in appreciation and soon the two men were off, checking out the cookies. Roosevelt was still glaring at Carter as he bit the donkey’s head directly off, chewing slowly, staring at a petrified and very apologetic short-haired man in the corner whom Jack guessed was Carter. The blue frosting was evenly put on and it actually tasted really good, even Jefferson could admit to it. Even though Jack was still glaring at him. Abraham enjoyed them as well and he told Carter that, which Jack found nice to hear. Seeing Abraham so full of happiness was something he’d give so much for. He’d give practically anything to hear that admiring tone again—specifically to him.

 The party ended only an hour or two later and as they cleaned up, Abraham told Jack, “I’m so sorry for Thomas. You were right but he can get moody and quick, it’s really not your fault at all for his mood change.” While they collected solo cups into high towers.

 “No, it’s fine. Hell, I wanted to piss him off. He deserves to be reminded of it anyway.” Jack replied and Abraham smiled. He knew they’d reach an understanding, and Jack smiled back. It was too hard not to. He got a nod from George (the man didn’t like affection too much) and a strong side-hug from Roosevelt.

 “Why, you should visit the assembly one of these days. I am sure we’d love to have you, even if you just watched. It’d be nice to have a spectator who wasn’t a politician for once.” Roosevelt said with all of the air of a man who’d quickly warmed up to Jack, and Jack appreciated that.

 “I’ll try. Have a good night everyone.”

 He got into Abraham’s car and shut the door. “Thanks for taking me out, I enjoyed it.”

 “Oh, it was nothing. Ulysses really wanted to see you again, and I’m pretty sure it was the right call to not go alone. Hey, I should be thanking you anyway.” The car started up and began to drive. “You said yes even when no would’ve been a perfectly acceptable and fair answer.”

 Jack shook his head. “No, I couldn’t have done that to you.”

 Abraham gave him a small, but appreciative smile. “Seriously, thanks, Jack.”

 His cheeks were warm and he smiled anyway. He’d done a lot of smiling tonight, and almost all of it was because of Abraham. “No problem, Abraham.”

 When he got home (he waved goodbye to Abraham until his car turned to the next street.), he opened the door to find Ted alone, on his phone. “Oh, hey.” Ted got up. He looked drained, but efficiently less stressed from all of the bullshit work he had to do as a lawyer. “The kids went to bed just thirty minutes ago.”

 “Thanks, Ted.” He hugged his brother. “If you’re wondering, I had a good night.”

 “Mhm. With your Abe?” Ted teased, and suddenly he was flustered again.

 “He isn’t my Abe, and I call him Abraham.” Even though he really wanted Abraham to be his. Really, really did.

 “Sure. Well, have a good night, Jack. Tell Jackie I give her my regards—running an entire business must not be too easy.” Ted began to leave, taking his keys, unlocking the front door. But Jack knew that his brother was working himself tirelessly at his law firm and he wasn’t going to let him leave without telling him the same thing.

 “Yeah, well I give you my regards. Get some sleep, okay? You’re working hard and you need to take a break sometime. Don’t push yourself too hard or I’ll be there berating you like a nurse.” And then the two brothers shared a look that could only say, I love you too, you idiot.

 Jack checked his phone.

 Abraham

Once again, thanks, Jack :) you made tonight really fun.

  Jack

You’re welcome, Abraham. Goodnight.

  Abraham

Goodnight, Jack.

 Jack got ready for bed and sighed happily once he was underneath the covers.

 Office parties still weren’t as fun as normal parties, but something about Abraham being by his side made it twice as bearable, and twice as fun. And maybe he found himself even more in love with Abraham, too.

Chapter Text

 Okay, so it was not a crush. It was not love. It was not. It was simply just mild interest in someone. Someone who was also the same sex and a single parent and the parent of a kid he guided the education of. And that someone’s name was Jack, and he had beautiful, yet short reddish hair that Abraham would never admit almost made him smile. Pretty eyes that he didn’t want to look away from. A dark sense of humor that, while it was fairly different from other people he’d met, he could get used to. Considerably used to.

 So maybe it was more than mild, and maybe it was intense interest. And they’d stay friends. He was fine with that—he really was. Abraham didn’t want to ruin it. He really didn’t. This was a good thing they had going, this was fresh, fresh from all of the hell that he’d gone through. He had friends but Jack was different. Almost uncomfortably.

 In the way that he’d find himself wondering what a relationship would be like with Jack.

 Would Jack be the first to wake up? Would he make breakfast, no matter if it was complicated or not? Abraham wouldn’t care if it was or not. He’d learn how to cook if he needed. Would he rise far earlier or just a few minutes before? Would he like to cuddle on the couch in comfortable clothes and under a thick blanket, cups of warm cocoa on the table, simply enjoying one another’s presence, and enjoy decorating the house for Christmas? They’d both go shopping, Abraham enjoyed it and he knew Jack was efficient in keeping kids in line if John Jr.’s rambles said anything. Would he drink a lot? No. No, Jack didn’t seem like the type.

 But one thing he pondered on was would Jack care for the children? Jack was under no obligation to take care of Robert, or Tad, or Willie or Eddie. He never would be in the strange fantasy world Abraham made up. But would he care for them as he did his own children? Obviously, Jack was a very hands-on parent. John Jr. was a bright child who expressed himself freely, and from the little he’d heard from the boy, his elder sister was the same.

 But would Jack play with them and sing on their little karaoke nights, would Jack put the smallest ones to bed with him and read stories, would Jack help them with homework and getting dressed and personal problems? Of course, such a thing wasn’t exactly holy or heroic, but it was more than he would ever be obligated to do. Abraham… as much as he tried, it was obvious that he couldn’t do everything or be there all the time. He’d gotten full custody (not only was it the most stable as decided by the court but Mary specifically asked him to have it) but his job and paperwork always took him from it. And his side want to be a lawyer was growing more and more.

 Maybe Jack wouldn’t want to take care of the kids. Maybe Jack would leave Abraham to do it. And that would hurt, it would, but it’d be sort of understandable wouldn’t it? It’d hurt, but it’d make sense.

 More sense than Abraham’s interest in Jack, anyway.

 He didn’t seem to hear Ulysses calling his name repeatedly.

 “…raham? Abraham?” the man is shaking him gently by the shoulder, looking slightly concerned. “You still have papers and I’m not grading them for you, I did that digitally a month ago when you were out with your date.”

 And that snapped Abraham out of his trance, jumping, and his body seemingly couldn’t cool down. “It wasn’t a date, Ulysses, I mean it. It was just coffee with a friend.” He put the pen down on his desk and checked the clock. Barely 2 PM. He already wanted to go home, and hold Eddie in his arms to calm himself down from all of the stress he had.

 Ulysses, with a smile, definitely did not believe him. “Sure, sure. I totally believe you. Well,” then he adjusted the stack of papers in his arms. “I have more papers and I have good news.” He set the papers on top of the already large stack on his boss’ desk, earning a groan from the older man, who closed his eyes until he realized and processed the second part.

 “Good news?”

 “Yes, are you ready?” the smile grew to a mischievous, proud one, and Abraham could sense the potentially illegal doing.

 “I’m scared, but sure.”

 “I did a bit of digging and found out: Jack, your little interest,” Ulysses sat down in the swivel chair in front of Abraham, “is single and has expressed interest in men on his social media. That means he could be bisexual, and that means,” he leaned in, “you could have a chance.”

 Abraham looked frozen. Entirely frozen. Like an ice sculpture, never to be carved for the next two decades. But there was a massive spark of warmth and happiness in his stomach. Bees in his head, buzzing with excitement, buzzing those five last words Ulysses said. You could have a chance. You could have a chance. You could have a chance.

 And he did. He had a chance.

 He nearly forgot that his colleague basically stalked Jack’s social media. “Don’t stalk someone just because your friend likes them, Ulysses. That’s—I—” he couldn’t even find words, no matter how thankful he was that he knew that. That Jack was possibly into both. That Jack could’ve been exactly like him. “—why?” he finally decided on, his brain beginning to wrap itself around the apparent news.

 Ulysses shrugged, “I knew you liked him, and I knew you were worried he wouldn’t like you, so I decided to do a bit of research and not stalking, and found it out.” His smile never left. “I think I did the right thing, actually, besides what are friends for?” he toyed with a minuscule Rubix cube in his hand as he told Abraham.

 Abraham, no matter how much he wanted to feel ashamed of Ulysses, was still thankful nonetheless, and he sighed and shook his head. A smile was trying to claw its way onto his face. “I should’ve known you’d do this.” The smile succeeds and soon the mood is back to lighthearted and fond.

 Ulysses’ smile only grew bigger. It made his eyes shine brightly, like a child reaching triumphant victory over an adult, like someone knowing they won a debate. And Abraham couldn’t blame him.

 “You don’t have to thank me, the only way to pay me back is by marrying him and living until you’re grey on the head and taking care of fifty dogs and twenty grandchildren.” Ulysses taunted as Abraham got up and approached the office door, going to check on the children still in class (some ran later than others, there were clubs as well). He snickered out at how abysmal that sounded while Ulysses swiveled in the chair, throwing the cube in the air a few times.

 “That won’t happen, he’s not interested and I intend to stay in my own lane. He does not want seven children.” Abraham replied. He unlocked the door, but before he left, he stopped at his friends’ words.

 “You know, Willie wants to see John Jr. again. He wants to have another sleepover. He wants you to be there for it, too, really does,” Ulysses said, paused, “you’ll be with him. You can see him in his natural state, see if he is who you think. You have a chance, Abraham; you know it, and you’re not pursuing it out of fear. Don’t do that. Go for it.” he sounded so hopeful, so sincere. Genuine. Like he knew it for a fact. That he was a firm believer in that. Abraham didn’t want to disappoint him. And maybe he was right, too. Maybe Abraham did have a chance. Unlikely things could be the outcome. Not everything turns out for the worst.

 …

“I’ll keep that in mind, Ulyss. Don’t break that cube.” Then he left and walked down the hall, children’s drawings decorating the walls and partially the ceiling. Sometimes they ran out of space on the walls so they resorted to the ceiling. Sure, it did look a bit messy, but it made the kids happy to see their drawings no matter what. He wouldn’t take happiness from a child. Quietly, he approached the English classroom. Groups of bright and mainly energetic children sat on the floor and the teacher, Mr. Berkman, was in front of the drawing board.

 “Now, these,” he tapped the stick gently onto the board. “are all colors that you’ve all seen. What is this one?” Mr. Berkman pointed at red.

 Little Maria Monroe raised her hand. “Red!”

  Mr. Berkman smiled, and nodded, “Very good, Maria. What is this?” he pointed at orange.

  “Orange!” Matt Van Buren. Orange hair almost distinct, almost ironic.

 “This?”

 “Yellow!” Polly Jefferson. Hair in pigtails and wearing the new dress Thomas boasted quite proudly about.

 “And this?”

 Quentin’s hand shot up instantly. “Green! Green!” he smiled, and if you looked, you could see a gap. He was missing one of his front teeth as well as Willie was.

 Mr. Berkman pointed to a light blue. “This?”

 John Jr., quick to answer, “Blue, Mr. Be-Berkman!”

 “Yes, John. And this final color is?”

 And then sweet little Willie, Abraham’s own boy, smiled wide, obviously knowing. “Purple!” he exclaimed. He’d known the others and his father knew that, but he waited, waited until he could answer quickly enough. Abraham came strolling into the room and picked the boy up. The little cheer was infectiously adorable.

 “Yes, Purple. Very good.” He said, enjoying the happy smile on his son’s face as the rest of the children stared in awe. “Are you enjoying Mr. Berkman’s class?” in acknowledgment he sent a nod to the teacher. He always ignored the crimes because, well, he was still a really good teacher, and Abraham was in desperate need of a new teacher. The last one was trying to creep on a child and he was very quick to get rid of the guy. He didn’t want that around the children, or any child.

 “Mhm!” Willie nodded enthusiastically. “I am, Papa, really am! He’s teaching us about colors!”

 Abraham kissed his son on the cheek and observed all of the small little tots in the room. It was weirder being far taller than them than it would’ve been being normal height. But he didn’t mind it, and it seemed the kids liked him even more because of it. As Jacky Custis had put it: it made him look like a big king. And yeah, it did. “I’m glad he is, that’s what he’s being paid to do,” that got a chuckle out of the man himself. “but don’t let me distract you.” he put Willie down back onto the floor.

 “Papa, can I… can I have another sleepover with John?” Willie said, and then added hastily as if Abraham already decided on no, “He—he moved his sleepover with Quentin, so saying no now wouldn’t work, because then he could move it back but, ‘s too short notice for, for Quentin’s parents so…” he trailed off. Looked up at his father with pure hope in his eyes.

 Abraham couldn’t say no, but he couldn’t say yes. Not when John Jr. was definitely looking up at him with hope. “We’ll see, Willie. For now, just do what Mr. Berkman tells you, all right?”

 “All right, Pa.”

 He left the room and checked his phone. Nothing from Jack, but a text from Mary. He opened it up. Julia gave me a hint that you may be dating a guy named Jackkk ;)

 His cheeks burned, and he was quick to reply, No, Mary, we are just friends. Julia and her husband can play matchmaker all they want but it won’t happen.

 It took her a second, but then Mary replied with, Mhm, sureeeee. Well just be yourself and don’t act like a sociopath or a killer, k? im counting on you to give me someone to intimidate at your guys’ wedding

 WE ARE NOT GETTING MARRIED was his reply before he shut his phone off and buried his face into his hands. Mary loved to tease him over small crushes or interests in a friendly way, and it always reminded him that yes, they were on good terms. No matter the fact that she couldn’t see the kids regularly. But she asked for him to have full custody—timing wasn’t right for either of them, but it seemed best for him to take them, as she had her own things to deal with and he’d accepted that. Now that she was better she saw them as often as she could. Running a jewelry shop definitely wasn’t easy if what you were selling required 24/7 surveillance. But it’d been a while, so if God really hated him, then maybe her and Jack would meet and it’d be utter hell for him. A past love running into a current interest.

 But he went back into his office. Ulysses was filing through his top cabinets on top of a stool. He looked at Abraham and narrowed his eyes. “You never told me you read gay romance books.”

 Abraham snatched it from him in seconds. “Go.” He was hotter than the damn sun and his cheeks were scorching.

 “I can give you recommendations, you should’ve told me, me and Julia are in this book club and some of the ladies there love those book—”

 “GO.”

--

  Abraham drove home with Willie in the backseat playing with his toy figures, and the radio on low. It had started to rain a little bit, so he had to use the wipers every few seconds. He could only imagine how Jack was, maybe he was sitting at home with a cup of coffee, a book, and his kids, playing in front of him? Or he was making them early dinner, singing along to any song that came on. Laughing along and playing with them. That thought was so domestic, so comfortable and warm that he had to stop himself from falling into such a fantasy. Coming home to a fun sight like that, knowing a perfect person like Jack was waiting at home for him… it was good. It was a good one.

 “So, how have you been making friends?” he asked Willie, who perked up at the question.

 “Oh, I’ve been makin’ some. Like Quent, and John, and Jesse.” Willie said, putting the toys into his lap and looking out the window at the small raindrops drizzling down the glass. He was always fascinated by it

 “Quent? As in Quentin?”

 “Yeah! John likes ‘im too, so I like him. He’s the leader in our games.” Abraham could hear the swinging of legs in the back, almost hitting the passenger seat, but not quite. He smiled at that.

 “Well I’ve never heard anyone but you call him that. His father usually calls him Quentyquee.” Abraham said, leaving out the other one, as he found that Willie’s overdramatic gasp at that funny on its own. The boy seemed entirely surprised that such a nickname could be applied, and it was apparent he’d never heard it before, never heard his friend be called that.

 “No! He never told me and John. That’s… it makes no sense!” the little toddler shook his head.

 Abraham snickered, “Well, I think, that it does. His name is Quentin, so…”

 “Yeah but… it doesn’t sound… right,” Willie murmured. He was beginning to understand it if the way he sounded deep in thought told his father anything. He’d leave his son to ponder over it, because he had to get groceries tomorrow, and he was intent on making dinner correctly tonight. The last time he tried, he was absent in thought thinking about Jack and burnt the spaghetti. The younger ones had to eat cereal or puffs and Robert and Eddie had pizza. He pulled into the driveway and unbuckled his seatbelt, turning around to Willie.

 “Ready to head in?”

 The excited nod was enough confirmation and soon he was helping Willie out of his seat and making sure he took the toys too.

 Abraham opened the front door and put Willie down, rushing likely into the arms of Eddie, who sat on the couch with small little Tad. Robert was on the recliner until he got up and watched his father lock the door. “Nothing too eventful happen?” the teenager asked. Thirteen and already acting like a fifteen-year-old. Abraham shook his head.

 “No,” he put the keys onto the table and looked his eldest right in the eyes while he made his way to the fridge. “but you have eventful essays to do for English class.”

 Robert rolled his eyes, but fondly, a smirk coming onto his face. “I know, Dad. I’ll get them done. In the meantime,” he hopped onto the stool right beside the counter. Abraham finished getting the ingredients for dinner as he did so. “what’s for dinner? Eddie’s been asking and now I’m wondering the same thing.”

 “I’d say… an attempt at sandwiches with avocado?”

 The immediate and relieved groan Robert released was enough to tell him that sounded fine. Willie and Eddie were chattering in the background, Tad interfering every few sentences to speak his own piece, like three members of a gang conversing. “Please. It’s been a while since you’ve given us avocado, and I’m fine with that.”

 “Good, because it’s what you’re getting.”

 Dinner didn’t take too long to make and when it was done, he served it, but when he sat in front of it he decided he wasn’t all too hungry. He’d eat later, or tomorrow, or ravage through the fridge and cupboards at 3 AM, it was fine. Eddie was digging into his immediately. Robert, not as fast, but he took a few bites instantly. “You’re good at sandwiches, Dad, maybe stick to those. Not spaghetti.”

 Then, Willie added, “Unless you wanna burn down the house.”

 Abraham was flustered and he knew it crept up to his entire face. “It was once, and I didn’t burn the house down. Now eat.”

 His boys laughed, and yeah, maybe it was funny.

 Just a bit.

-

 That night he read a text from Jack.

 Goodnight, Abraham. :)

 He replied with tiredness prancing across his vision.

 Goodnight, Jack. :)

 He changed Jack’s contact to Dearheart, and went to bed with a curled-up warmth in his stomach. Maybe he really did have a chance after all.

Chapter Text

 Jack was getting antsy at home. Sure, he had kids who had boundless energy, and he could get a babysitter (AKA: Ted because twenty dollars is twenty dollars) to watch them so he could go out, but he wanted to do something with the kids rather than without the kids. It’d been a while since they went somewhere together. He didn’t have the time to go to a waterpark but something like watching a movie was too routine to be exciting. Thousands of movies existed, yet John only watched the superheroes and Caroline wanted to watch nature documentaries. Patrick… well. He only enjoyed watching the popcorn pop in the microwave. Or when his father burnt it and they ate marshmallows from the bag instead.

 So when Abraham texted him—nearly frantic—he couldn’t resist putting the paperwork down (he was at work) and reading.

 Abraham

Ohm y god my omdog okay so like the kids want to go to a park and its nearby so like don’t worry and Willie also wants to see John Jr. but also he says you were very energetic and ‘sleepless’ (he meant restless) so like do you want to come??? With?? Us??? If not that’s okay! I just wanted to ask. I know what it’s like to have energy and not be able to spend it, no matter how rare :)

 Jack studied the message over and over, thinking, when his mind had been made up as soon as he read it. Yes. Of course he did. To go someplace with the man he likes and please John? It would be a win-win. For both of them. And it’d solve his problem of wanting to do something exciting, too, something with the kids that they could enjoy freely. He could do something fancy. He had more than enough money in the bank account his father set up for him. But that was money he didn’t want to use until the kids had to go off to college or university, and even then, he’d only use it for part of the tuition and use his own money for the rest.

 But then again, what if something went wrong? What if one of the kids got hurt, his or not? What if Willie fell or Caroline tripped or god forbid Patrick hit the ground? Abraham would hate him if his kids got hurt because Jack couldn’t watch them as a responsible adult would. Should. Or if they ran into an unfriendly animal? Or got lost?

 And even as he worried, he typed.

 Jack

Oh no we’d love to! Ill ask john and caroline, but they’ll likely say yes, and you’re right. Energy and not able to spend it. exactly. I have to work though, so when im done and pick up the kids, ill ask them on the drive home. And if it goes right we’ll go home, get some water and snacks, and uh… we’ll see, huh? :)

Abraham

You are entirely right. We WILL see. Thanks, Jack :D

Jack

Anytime, Abraham, anytime :)

 He put his phone into his pocket and could feel the inevitable heat on his cheeks. He was going to see Abraham in person again. They could see each other and talk. Not in texts. He’d hear that wonderful voice and see those wonderful eyes, which would be the best part of it all. It wasn’t fair that the man ended up in his dreams only a day or two ago. It wasn’t fair he was Jack’s constant thought. Because he knew only he was affected this way. Abraham didn’t like him romantically. He never would. Sure, maybe he was single and definitely open-minded, but Jack was not being an experiment nor was he going to pressure his crush into a relationship. That’d just be cruel. On both ends.

 “Jack, how’s the paperwork coming along?” came the voice of his boss from behind, and he swiveled in his chair, jumping, putting on a smile. Washington leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, a kind look on his face.

 “Uh—good, good. How’s the dogs? Are the puppies good?” Jack asked. They’d recently gotten a new litter of puppies from someone who couldn’t take care of them and the five little things needed their shots and all of their work done. It wasn’t expensive and it wasn’t complicated (well, it could be, but Washington definitely had experience) so they were already in a stable condition in their pen that Jack and another employee, Caleb, helped build. Washington told them how to build it. And, well, the puppies were cute, so he wanted to know out of his own curiosity.

 Washington smiled at the mention. “They’re good. The little retriever is the most energetic, thinking of naming it…” he paused, before his smile grew and he excitedly said, “Drunkard!”

 …

 Jack blinked. “Drunkard?”

 “Yes, Drunkard! A perfect animal name. Martha would agree. …I hope.” Washington said, putting his hands in his pockets. “…really hope, actually,” he mumbled under his breath, looking down before nodding, “Well, continue on, Jack, don’t let me disturb you!”

 Jack turned the swivel chair back to his paperwork and grabbed his mechanic pen. He clicked the inky tip back out, but his mind was stuck on two thoughts. Oh my god I’m going to see Abraham, and Who the hell names a dog Drunkard?

-

 When he successfully retrieved the kids from school and Patrick from Polk, he brought it up. John Jr.’s camp ended up giving them the day off this time, as one of the ‘leaders’ ended up tripping into a poisonous snake nest, so they’d need to wait a few days for them to recover before the kids set back out into the forest. “So, John,” Jack began, waiting at the red light that seemed persistent in lighting up when he approached, “Do you want to see Willie today?”

 John Jr. smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah!”

 “Good, because, if it’s not trouble for you, Caroline, Mr. Lincoln wanted us to go to the park with him and his family, and I decided to take all of us.”

 Caroline smiled. “I’d love to, and Patrick seems to agree with me,” she tickled her baby brother’s stomach and the baby laughed, an infectious sound that brought a smile to Jack’s face. So he didn’t need to worry about his kids saying no, good. They’d bring two water bottles and fruit snacks, along with a blanket. The grass wasn’t the cleanest. He’d also need to keep his eyes on Patrick. If he lost his baby at the park, he would have a heart attack, come back alive, scream, and likely commit mass murder in his search for his absolutely precious child, all in that order.

 “I’m glad. I was worried.” He said, and took a deep breath, moving past the red light and to their street.

 “Well don’t be, Papa, I love seein’ Willie. He’s great.” John Jr. said, swinging his legs in his seat, watching the world from outside of his window. People of all kinds, going about their way, with animals or by themselves, with another, perhaps, different shapes and sizes and colors. The world was big and different. His father had shown him, too. Every Christmas they’d take a walk around the town and watch others, and he'd tell John, “You see, everyone’s different. And that’s why you’re unique, John, Caroline. Don’t let others tell you otherwise.” and after that they’d go home and eat a bunch of peppermint dark chocolate and watch movies. Sometimes they’d even watch the tree glisten and glow like a magnificent piece of architecture. It was always something they looked forward to. Maybe a bit too much.

 “I know he is,” Jack finally managed to reach their house and pulled into the driveway, turning off the radio and taking off his seatbelt. “and I’m relieved you found a good friend, John.” He rounded the car and let John Jr. out of the car. Caroline got herself out and her father helped get Patrick out of his booster seat. “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

 Caroline shook her head, her smile growing. “You wouldn’t have to. Johnny’s too so-cial for that.” she ruffled her brother’s hair while their father fumbled with the keys. She’d been practicing words, and ‘social’ was on the list.

 Jack opened the door and the children filed in, he put Patrick in his seat on the couch and locked the door, but he didn’t take off his shoes. He just needed to change into more… casual wear. And brush his teeth. He wasn’t going around Abraham after a dog had been all over him and his clothes. That would be a death sentence for both him and his love life. “Don’t take your shoes off, we’re going out as soon as I get everything together.” He said, and once the children nodded he went upstairs and took off his jacket and long-sleeve. Sure, it was casual enough, but if he wanted to do any running and activity, a jacket in view of the sun was not the best idea.

 He scanned his closet until he found a nice, short-sleeve, sky-blue button-up. He put it on and went ahead to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and while he spit out the toothpaste he thought, I hope Abraham likes my outfit. but that was a dumb thought. Like a teenager going on his first date and worrying if he overdid it or underdid it. Obviously, if Abraham didn’t like it, it wasn’t the end of the world. Even if it’d feel like it was.

 When he got downstairs again, the kids were all on the couch and attempting to tie their legs together. “Johnny, Caroline, please stop trying to break your legs,” he said, a chuckle coming out nonetheless, and the children giggled and began to detangle themselves. Jack opened the fridge and grabbed two ice-cold water bottles, and then to the cupboard, where he kept the secret fruit snacks. The ones that actually tasted really good. They were meant to be reward-only fruit snacks, but he could splurge and bring some for Abraham’s kids too. Maybe the oldest would want fruit snacks too?

 Jack changed Patrick into a white shirt with a glittery moon (it cost a hella ton of money but he would rather get expensive glitter clothes that won’t stick everywhere than cheap glitter clothes that do) in the middle, and spotted a few dark-brown hairs on the top of the baby’s head. He could practically melt. Patrick having his mother’s hair would be a perfect balance. It… reminded him of Abraham’s hair, too. Dark.

 “Going to look like a male version of your mother, huh, buddy?”

 Patrick smiled toothlessly and reached up at his father’s face, gently touching his nose, and his cheek. Jack laughed and kissed his baby on the forehead, the laughter from Patrick being an amazing sound. They went downstairs and John and Caroline stood by the door, still in their clothes and waiting patiently.

 “Are you ready?”

 “Mhm!” both of the children nodded.

 They and Jack left the house, entered Bitches-Love-Me-2000, and Jack made sure to text Abraham before he started the engine.

 Jack

Hey Maplewood Park right??

  Abraham

Yep! Very pretty park you’ll know it when you see it ofc, though since you know the name of it, I can imagine you know where it is.

  Jack

Lol, yes I do. Be there soon!

 Jack slipped his phone back into his pocket and began to pull out of the driveway. Maplewood wasn’t far. It was actually really close, and so he was glad for that. He wouldn’t need to drive an hour. Even if he did, he’d still go because, well, it’s Abraham. The same guy he liked. At this point, at any point, really, it was far more than lust. At first, yes, it was because he hadn’t slept with anyone in months. But now? Now it would be insulting to just call it lust. He wanted something different—something he hadn’t yearned for in years. Absolute years. A decade, probably? And yet, he was driving right to it, just to see the man who’d become too much a part of his life to simply let go of. If anything ever happened… no. He wouldn’t think that at that moment. Not then.

  John Jr. laughed behind him, and suddenly, his own smile appeared, and the darkness that clouded his mind disappeared.

 That could wait. For now, he had a park to go to.

-

 When they pulled up to the park, he got the kids out first before he even attempted to do anything else. He’d already brought a knife in his pocket and bear spray. John Jr. was jumping up and down with joy at the prospect of seeing his best friend and Caroline was a bit nervous about meeting the man who’d bewitched her father, but it would go all right, she was sure. Dad would know if someone was fake or not, it was his duty as a Dad to, anyway.

 “Jack!” came from behind them, and Jack turned around to see Abraham, wearing a red t-shirt, jeans, and boots. He looked ready to do physical activity, like climbing, and Jack probably should’ve put on boots too. But damn did the guy’s arms look good. He held Patrick tighter, his worry of dropping him returning, yet he put it into the back of his mind.

 “Abraham. You uh… look good. I like your boots.” He said, and then turned his gaze to the children behind Abraham.

 The eldest had messy dark brown hair and a bored expression on his face, hands in his pockets, wearing a hoodie (which made no sense) with the sleeves rolled up and normal sneakers. The second child, shorter but taller than Willie and the youngest of the group, had on a t-shirt and a big grin. His hair was kept out of his face. Willie had on a sunflower yellow t-shirt, overalls, and running shoes. The one behind him, clinging to said overalls, wore a short-sleeved sweater and shorts with child boots. He was nervously biting his lip, but his eyes were big and round with curiosity.

 Jack put on a soft smile and nodded at them, waving at the youngest. Robert must’ve been the name of the eldest. Abraham sensed the opportunity to introduce his children, and he turned, putting a hand on Robert’s shoulder, “This is Robert.”

 “Hi,” Robert mumbled. He clearly didn’t like the attention.

 “And this, is Eddie,” Abraham ruffled the boy’s hair and Eddie giggled.

 “Hello!”

 “And my youngest,” Abraham stepped over and gently picked up the small boy who let go of Willie’s overalls in favor of his father’s shirt. “Tad. Say hello, Tad.” He looked infinitely comfortable and warm with the boy, and it was a domestic sight Jack wasn’t sure he should’ve even been seeing. He looked… relaxed. Younger. And maybe it was adorable, too. Tad waved soundlessly.

 Jack decided to introduce his children too and Caroline took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you three. This is my daughter Caroline and this is my baby son Patrick.” He said, Patrick cooing, and Caroline nodding and smiling.

 “Well hello, you two. And must I say, Patrick is a very cute baby?” Abraham complimented, earning a very happy noise from Patrick, and Jack was just relieved that it had gone well. Patrick wasn’t the biggest fan of new people but he was warming up to Abraham and his kids just fine. Jack laughed.

 “Thank you. He has his mother’s hair.”

 Then John Jr. and Willie hugged, twirling around, falling onto the grass gently. They cheered each other’s names like they had known one another since birth. It was a lighthearted sight, and soon they were setting up the blanket and putting the water bottles out. The fruit snacks would stay in Jack’s pocket—he wasn’t having any pint-sized thieves take his fruit snacks from him. Well, their fruit snacks, but not theirs yet. It made sense. He swore it made sense. Respectively, the parents both kept an eye on their youngest, Tad getting along best with Patrick, and Robert laying in the grass like a starfish without a care in the world. John Jr. and Willie played around the bushes and ran after each other, laughing all the while.

 Caroline—at some point—came up and decided to read aloud a book she brought to Robert. Obviously, the boy was zoning out, but he seemed to pay partial attention. Caroline could conduct someone’s attention if she wanted to, and Jack and Abraham spent the time talking.

 “You know, it’s been quite a while since I went to a park,” Jack said, picking at the grass and rubbing a blade between his fingers. “it’s good to do it with a friend.”

 Abraham nodded understandingly, knees up to his chest and long arms draped across them. “I get it. We go to them often, for nature and for the fresh air, but other than Ulysses I haven’t been with many others to the park in some time too.” Then, he added, “If you don’t count Theodore taking me out to go hunt.”

 Jack leaned back up. “Hunt?”

 “Yes. I tried to get into the spirit as much as he was but, well, he’s definitely different when it comes to that.” Abraham went on, a smile on his face. “I’ve never understood his eagerness to hunt or be outdoors at all times. I mean, all the time, he wants to go out and do this, or that. I don’t know if he likes it or if he needs something to keep him busy.”

 “Or it’s both,” Jack replied, “or he’s sad and copes with the outdoors.” Maybe that was a bit blunt, because Abraham winced, and he vaguely wondered if he just fucked up. But no, he didn’t.

 “I mean… I wouldn’t blame him.”

 “Why?”

 Abraham waved it away, leaning back, “It’s not my trauma to dump. He’ll tell you if he wants, but don’t pressure it out of him. That’ll do more bad than good.” He chuckled, as if he remembered a good memory. “The last time someone pressured him into drinking—which is quite rare—he got into a fight. I wouldn’t recommend giving him wine in large amounts whether he knows it’s wine or not.” Jack laughed at that and fell back into the grass, the soft hairs of nature rubbing against his cheeks and his arms.

 “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 “Papa! Come, play Princess with us!”

 Jack got up at the sound of John Jr.’s voice and wondered what ‘Princess’ was about, so he strolled over to the two children even if he was comfortable with Abraham, and found them in front of a circle of sticks. “What’s happening, you two?” he asked, getting down on his knees.

 “We want you to be the princess, and I’m going to fight Willie for you! He’s the big bad guy!” John Jr. exclaimed, pointing inside the circle of sticks, “You need to sit inside of your jail cell!”

 Jack blinked twice and could hear Eddie laughing somewhere. “A—Princess? I would be a Prince by nature, honey,” he said, but when his boy gave him puppy eyes, he sighed. “I guess I’m a princess now.” He crawled into the circle and was careful not to move the sticks. The two boys cheered out and both scrambled a few feet away from each other.

 John Jr. cleared his throat, and, “You’ll never get Princess Papa, Mr. McBadMan!”

 Jack was already regretting this and flustered. Abraham was right there and here he was, playing the role of Princess Papa.

 Willie laughed like a maniacal movie villain and the two boys began to duke it out with sticks, gently hitting the other or blocking a stick to the face or stomach or eye, jumping around each other and rolling onto the ground like a hamster to dodge a sweep of the feet. Jack simply sat in the circle that he barely fit in. John Jr. tapped Willie’s cheek and the kid went down like a bag of bricks. Jack worried that he fell a bit too hard, but Willie’s groan was overdramatic and Johnny stood over him in triumphant victory. He pointed the stick at his friend’s throat.

 “Any last words, Mr. McBadMan?”

 “Y-Yes,” Willie croaked like a chain-smoker, looking John Jr. dead in the eyes. “and that is—if I go, you go!” then he hit John Jr.’s leg and Jack’s son crumpled down too. He screeched out dramatically, and his tongue fell out of his mouth with a ‘blegh’ and he let go of the stick. Willie’s head dropped and he shut his eyes.

 …

 After a minute, Abraham came over and held a hand out to Jack. Jack took it. “I guess I’m your savior, then.” Abraham joked with a smile, and Jack laughed, his cheeks warming up further.

 “Thank you, my ever-handsome hero.” He responded, and Abraham laughed too, setting off another laugh from Jack. It died down to giggles and then Jack realized—with widened eyes and a dry mouth, suddenly—that he was still holding the guy’s hand. He pulled away. “Uh. Sorry.”

 “No, it’s fine.” Abraham hesitantly reconnected their hands and what the hell is happening is this a joke? “We can hold hands. We’re friends.”

 Ignoring his blush, Jack swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. We can.”

 After the kids got up and were both given fruit snacks, they took off for a walk into the forest, and Jack and Abraham’s hands never stopped touching. Abraham was cold. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that his hand fit perfectly with Jack’s. Bigger, sure, but comfortable. Like he could hold it forever. Like it’d work perfectly for dancing. Like it would fit perfectly on someone’s waist and Jack, no, stop that. Don’t think that now. he wasn’t going to think like that when this was perfectly normal—perfectly.

 At some point on the walk, their eyes met, and they both gave the other a bright grin. Abraham’s beautiful eyes glowed with childlike joy.

 Their hands held on tighter.

-

 When it was getting late, they put the kids in their cars, but Jack walked over to Abraham’s car before they left. “Hey. Thanks for the great time, today, I appreciated it. Your kids are wonderful.” He said, and Abraham smiled, crossing his arms.

 “It’s nothing. I love your kids, they’re all bright and just as wonderful. I’d like to do it again, if you want? Or have time, really.”

 “Oh, no, I’d—yeah, I love to,” Jack replied, a flush going to his cheeks, and it was mildly concerning as to if he was blushing in front of his crush. “Any time. Johnny has camp though, so… maybe… Sundays only?”

 “Yeah, that works for me. Have a good night, Jack.”

 “You too, Abraham.”

 Then he did something far too bold, and hugged the taller man. He smelled like nature and pinecones, comforting, perfect. Amazing. Lanky and tall, but just right. When Jack inhaled deeply, he could smell hair products too. Maybe a bit of cologne? Woody, perhaps? Sandalwood? He wasn’t going to be insane and ask what products the guy used so he kept quiet. Slowly, arms went around Jack too, and if they both inhaled deeply again, it didn’t really matter. Jack loved the smell of nature, and so he loved… this. He loved everything about this. A nice tight hug and nature and Abraham. He loved… Abraham. Yeah. That sounded right. That sounded entirely right.

 When they broke apart, Jack resisted the urge to hug him again. “Bye.” He breathed out.

 “Bye.”

 Jack walked so fast to his car that it was like he was running.

 “So, Dad, not a boyfriend?” Caroline teased smugly, John Jr. smirking like a devious little toddler. Patrick was asleep.

 “Not a boyfriend.” Jack flushed, turning on the car, the engine warming up the inside of the car and loud yet not loud enough to wake the baby. He saw John and Caroline share a look in the rearview mirror, and the flush got worse, and suddenly he was not about to tell Jackie about this because she would be even worse than Caroline. Caroline would definitely tell her mom though, that was obvious, and John would too, so really, it’d be delaying the inevitable. Oh well.

 The two children taunted and teased him the entire drive home and even as they ate. Jack was sure he hadn’t stopped blushing for hours. When he slipped his pants off and checked his phone, he saw a message saying Night, Jack. from Abraham and replied with his own Goodnight. … so maybe Not a boyfriend was disappointing but it didn’t matter.

 He changed Abraham’s name to, in a split-second decision, Soulheart, and shut his phone off.

 The dreams were only about nature. Peaceful nature.

 Maybe a bit of sandalwood in the air of the dream, too.

Chapter Text

 “Jack, you’ve been ready for fifteen minutes!” Jackie said, giggling in mirth while she watched her boyfriend try to perfect a strand of hair.

 “I know I know, but, Jackie, it—it needs to be perfect just let me,” Jack reached up and tried to swiftly turn it to the left but only ruined the part of his hair that took the longest. His jaw dropped and as clear as glass Jackie was laughing in the background. “damn it!” he tried to fix it but she walked up, a smile on her lips, and put a hand on his shoulder and gently put his hand away from his hair.

 “Honey, we need to go. Bobby has the kids and your hair—as important as it is—is not as important as being to this dinner on time,” she said. She turned around and grabbed her purse. “besides, they have a fee for being late.”

 At that, Jack pondered how long it’d take to fix his hair. And unfortunately the math worked out to them being ten minutes late. If he had to pay just because his hair messed with his sanity then he was going to crawl into a hole and die. He quickly ran a hand through his hair. It fixed part of it. As bad as it was, they didn’t have time, and they both knew it, so he grabbed his keys while she applied one last bit of lipstick to make sure it was even, and they began to walk through the front door.

 “Del—uh, Delmonico’s, that’s where we chose right?” he asked while they went down the steps. Jackie smiled.

 “Jack, you chose where we go.”

 “You’re right. I’m sorry I’m all over the place, this exam has really made me tense.” Jack apologized. He opened her car door, she slid in and he closed it to round the car himself and get in. Bitches-Love-Me-2000 was ready to go. He had been tense and zoned out lately—it wasn’t as concerning as it was fondly exasperating. But Jackie understood. She would always call and check in on him, or bring over food for him to eat considering he usually forgot. Bobby would help him too. Maybe show him a funny thing in a book or a comic. Or show him cute animals, that always relapsed his energy into a relaxed state of mind.

 Jackie just shook her head. The engine turned on with a loud revving, the smell of smoke filling the air as the tires ground against the concrete. “You have nothing to apologize for. I get it. Let’s just have a good night, okay?” she sent him a smile that made his heart flip on itself and nearly explode.

 He swallowed and laughed.

 “Yeah, okay.”

----

 “No, I’m telling you, that guy wouldn’t know a rock from a diamond,” Jack repeated to Jackie’s laughing. She held a bocce ball in one hand and her nose bridge in the other, almost shaking.

 “Y-You do know that he’s the football team captain, right? And he’s really buff?” she popped the cherry into her mouth, waiting until she swallowed it to continue, “if he heard you say that, he’d probably try to beat you up.”

 Jack scoffed and sipped at his water. “Keyword try, Jackie,”

 They continued to eat until they finished, but didn’t get up immediately. Jack would pay—he’d established that fairly quickly. But before they left he wanted to tell her something. “Jackie,” he began, watching her face contort into one of confusion. “I just wanted to say thanks for uh…” he awkwardly reached for her hand. “…thanks for sticking around. You’ve really made me the happiest guy there’s ever been. Each time we go out, or we just, talk, I feel like I’m with the best girl ever.” It was too open. It was too serious, too sincere, and he wondered if this was too deep for a simple dinner. Besides, even if they talked about getting married, she could’ve been entertaining his thoughts. And if she wasn’t all in then yeah, it would hurt, horribly, but he’d have to take it.

 Jackie, instead, had on the biggest smile he’d seen on her beautiful face. She leaned over the table—over the plates and over the lit candle—and kissed him on the mouth. “Oh, Jack, I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

 Jack smiled. “I love you too, Jackie.”

-

 Jack woke up with a startled gasp. Like in a movie, his brain supplied tiredly. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes and looked at the clock; thirty minutes before he usually woke up. Jackie would be taking the kids today. Maybe that… maybe that was why he dreamt of that. Of them. Of their date together, one of the last few before he proposed and, and it all… happened. He got out of bed and put on a comfortable polo shirt, taking his pills and sparing a look in the mirror. He didn’t look as bad as he did a few months ago, actually. Going out and seeing people must’ve helped.

 Seeing Abraham must’ve helped.

 At the thought of the man’s name, he remembered the smell of nature, of wood and hopeful dreaming and his cheeks warmed up. He hated how much this crush affected him. He’d had crushes before, he’d been with Jackie, but this seemed different. When he was with Jackie he felt alive. He felt energetic and happy and free. But Abraham made him feel human. Abraham made him feel normal, for a minute. Forgetting about all of the pain and the hurt, it was a chance for him to enjoy life as it was. Not chase a high that always ended with a low.

 But then his back singed with pain and he bit his lip. Even when he thought of the guy he liked, his body still said ‘fuck you’ and decided to spite him with a bit of pain. He left the bathroom and quietly opened the bedroom door. He didn’t want to wake the kids early. Jackie would be coming in less than an hour, but he had time to make coffee. He practically tip-toed down the stairs and began to make coffee. Considering how he woke up early, he would need a cup or two. Maybe three if it came down to it.

 When he managed to make himself coffee, it was the normal time for the kids to wake up, and he could hear Caroline’s door opening and then John’s. Caroline helped him get dressed most times, unless they needed help on a particular article of clothing. He felt his phone vibrate and sure enough, when he checked his phone, there was a text. From Abraham.

 Soulheart

Good morning, Jack. :)

Jack smiled and set his coffee cup down to text back a reply.

Jack

Good morning, Abraham. How’d you sleep?

Soulheart

Good. How about you? Eddie woke me up early.

Jack

Funny, I woke up early too. I slept well. I’m having coffee rn, the kids are getting up.

Soulheart

Aha, Robert’s helping Willie out of a long sleeve. He wanted to wear it but it’s too hot and it’s too big for him anyway. I guess it’s ironic we have the same wake up time, huh?

Jack

I guess.

 Jack could feel how warm his cheeks were, and he took a sip of the even-hotter coffee. He’d definitely look insane when the kids came down. In which, when they did, Caroline wore a pretty but casual outfit with her favorite pair of sparkly flats, John Jr. wore a t-shirt with shorts and sneakers, and Patrick was in a NASA onesie, holding onto her sister as she carried him down the stairs.

 “G’mornin’, Papa,” John muttered, instantly walking up and faceplanting Jack’s pant leg. Jack chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

 “Good morning, John. Take a seat, I’ll make you kids breakfast, we have some time before you’re with your mother.”

 “Already? It feels like it’s only been a day.” Caroline said.

 Jack downed his coffee and set the cup on the counter. “Well, it hasn’t been,” he grabbed plates from the cupboards and bent down—John beginning to move to the stools—to grab the bread from one of the bottom cupboards. He wanted to do something simple, but fulfilling. A sandwich, apples, and healthy yogurt should’ve done the trick. Patrick would have to have his apple mush and milk, he still couldn’t chew yet, and Jack wasn’t going to kill his own kid by giving him an apple.

 While he made breakfast the kids conversed and occasionally he put his piece in, almost burning the toasted sandwich (John liked it toasted, Caroline didn’t care) by looking away, yet successfully looking back just in time before it became a crisp. He struggled with one of the apples but managed to get it through the cutter and peel it right, checking for any stray peel on the apple before putting it on their plates. He did Patrick last. The baby was still a bit tired, after all.

 “You know what Polly told me during recess?” John Jr. began, swallowing a piece of his apple, kicking his legs carefully.

 “And what is it that she told you?”

 “She told me that her papa was hosting a party, and, wanted you to come to it.”

 Jack almost dropped the spoon he was using to feed Patrick. A party? He’d been to an office party and out to the park, what if he was going out too much? No. But what if the kids didn’t like this sudden change, all connected to Abraham? What if they didn’t like him? Of course, at the park they did. But opinions could change. And he really didn’t like Thomas Jefferson anyway. The man was a prick from what he’d seen and heard. Only the short little guy (if Facebook told him right), James Madison, could stand him, and even then, most people who knew them were betting on when he’d ‘crack’ and stop being Jefferson’s friend. Jack didn’t follow the gossip but he really wouldn’t blame anyone for snapping if they had to endure Jefferson all day long.

 But then again, Abraham might be there, and he didn’t mind the others as much. Plus, if he could stick it to Jefferson then he didn’t mind.

 “Really now?” he got more of the mush and put it up to the baby’s lips. Patrick ate it, and then he focused his attention back on John Jr. The boy nodded vigorously.

 He took a deep breath before saying, “Fine. Did Polly’s dad tell her when it was?”

 “Uh—tonight.”

 “Great.” He put the spoon down and picked up his phone.

 Jack

Yo did you know abt this party of jefferson’s?? you guys are friends, so…

Soulheart

Oh, yes. 10 tonight. I can imagine he invited you for spiteful reasons?

Jack

Yes that bastard did. Thanks for telling me the time.

He put it back down and got back to feeding Patrick. He’d just have to wait for Jackie.

-

 Jackie came knocking twenty minutes later, and after she collected the kids, he stopped her before she left. “Uh—Jackie, I… have a question.” He said. He had a hold on her arm. Not tight, but enough that it grounded her, and she turned around curiously. It was so similar to the dream and so similar to when he first asked her out, that he found himself wondering if this was all a dream too, and he’d wake up, ten years younger, and wanting Jacqueline Lee Bouvier more than anything. No Abraham having ever existed back then.

 “What, Jack?”

 “Do you ever reflect back on us? I’m only asking because I dreamt of one of our dates,” he scrambled to pull it back in, to keep it from sounding insane, “not because—I want you back, or anything. I mean you’re beautiful still but y’know, sort of, got a crush on someone else now—”

 But Jackie smiled understandingly. “I know. But, it isn’t often. Sometimes. But I know it’s over, and we both know it’s over, so I don’t think of it any longer. As long as we’ve both moved on and we’re all right with how it is now, then I have no reason to think of it. Besides,” then her smile took on a teasing look, “you want to marry John’s principal.”

 Jack’s cheeks burned. “No I don’t,” he mumbled. “Be safe, Jackie.”

 “I will, Bunny.”

 And then she left, and he was left alone thinking of how much this party was going to fucking suck.

-

 He got into his best dinner jacket with a white bowtie, and he knew that Jackie would say, You dress like you’re in Edwardian times, my dear. and he’d reply, I know. That’s the point. and then they’d laugh and continue on. But now he was single and going to some asshole’s party because he A. wanted to embarrass said man, and B. wanted to see Abraham. Abraham was the real reason. He didn’t like Jefferson, but if he knew Abraham wasn’t going, then he would’ve let go of the pettiness and stayed in and watched a movie or something.

 For the last time, he checked his phone, and then, with no new messages he headed out and slipped into Bitches-Love-Me-2000. Bitches-Love-Me-2000 had seen better days, but all that mattered was that it was still with him and still ran. He gave it a pat on the wheel before he started the engine and began to drive down the road. It was about 9:50 PM, but he figured coming early would be better than on the dot. Nobody goes to parties on the dot.

 As he drove, he thought about it. Was this too much? Was doing all of this too much? Going to a party to see some guy who probably wouldn’t be there, it was too… too in-your-face. If Abraham noticed and called him out for it—which would never happen but, still, he had anxiety about it—then his entire emotional stability would go down the drain. He hadn’t fallen this quick at all, not even with Jackie. Jackie took a month longer. But Abraham was everything already.

 It scared Jack a little.

 To care so much about a guy who already has a life, and kids… who didn’t even like you back… it was pathetic. He was pathetic for it. He should’ve just turned back and gone home and cried and watched Twilight.

 But when he got close enough to the house, he decided fuck it and went on. Jackie told him the directions. Coincidentally, she’d been to one of the Jefferson parties before, and she—to no avail—didn’t like Jefferson either. She’d looked pretty sympathetic when he explained that Jefferson invited him.

 He finally made it when he realized he almost went past the house and pulled up near a black truck. He got out and locked the door, straightened his bowtie, and peered inside of the window with squinted eyes.

 Two silhouettes, one with glasses, the other without. He took a deep breath through his nose. He could do this, it was just a simple party, and hey, maybe he’d meet some new friends.

 So then Jack walked in and was greeted by medium-volume country music, the strongest smell of alcohol he’s ever smelled in his life, and chatter all around. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around; the two figures by the window weren’t familiar. One was shorter than the other, wearing a polo t-shirt, slacks and shoes. From the back, his hair wasn’t colored. Hell, it was as if he was entirely gray. The other was taller, with wild—yet beginning to gray—red hair and a very twiggy figure, a dark red waistcoat with fucking coatflaps. He held a red solo cup and there was definitely some hard whiskey in there, Jack was sure of it. He turned and spotted someone he did recognize. Washington.

 Jack sped over and realized his boss was talking with a very short little man, hair similar but pointier than Washington’s, pale, sickly skinny features. Wearing all black. His eyes were dull but they held a cold intelligence to them. Especially when they turned to Jack.

 “This is the worker you’ve told me about?”

 Washington smiled brightly and brought Jack into a one-armed side hug. “Yep! It’s good to see you, Jack. I wasn’t sure you’d appear.”

 Jack chuckled awkwardly. “Well of course I showed. Couldn’t miss this.” He looked down at the guy. “Jack Kennedy,” he held his hand out, but the man didn’t take it. Just nodded and blinked unimpressed.

 “James Madison.”

 Jack pulled his hand back and shoved it back into his pocket. “Uh, nice to meet you. I’ve heard your name before, friends with the party host, right? Thomas Jefferson? I heard you guys worked on a case together.” He said. He wanted this to go smoothly. If he had to fist-fight then he would but he really just wanted to see if Abraham was here. If not, then he was leaving. When Madison nodded wordlessly he looked at Washington. “Well I’m going to go find Abraham. He’s here, right?”

 Washington paused before his smile grew wider. “Yeah. Don’t know where. I think the second story. He, Theo, Grant and Ben went upstairs together. Great minds do think alike.”

 Glad that Abraham was here, Jack patted Washington on the back and said, “Thanks.” Before speeding through the crowd of people to get to the stairs. It was a big house really—more like a mansion. It didn’t fit the feel of the town. But he supposed that rich people always went big or went home, and if this southern fuck lived in Virginia, he wasn’t going there. Far too much change for an aspiring lawyer who definitely fucked an underage girl.

 He maneuvered through the people upstairs and could hear that piping voice of Teddy. He walked up to the door, and twisted the knob, opening it up to see the four men sitting in a circle with their cups on chairs or random boxes. Grant looked fairly hammered, and the man he didn’t know, Ben, didn’t seem that tipsy. Abraham was thankfully sober-looking and so was Teddy.

 “I really wanted to prove I was tough to these guys, and their biggest guy challenged me to a fight. Now, I don’t think they knew I graduated from Harvard, so—”

 Jack popped in with a smile, “Harvard? I went there.”

 The entire circle looked up and Abraham smiled. It made the entire affair worth it, just to see that smile. “Jack! I’m glad to see you.” he put his cup down and enveloped Jack into a hug—one that he instantly leaned into and inhaled the perfect balance of nature and wood. He loved it, he loved that, he loved Abraham. When Abraham pulled away and led him to the circle, he sat down on a bean bag, right next to the taller man.

 “Benjamin, I wanted to introduce you to Jack. Jack, this is Benjamin Franklin. He’s the most well-known scientist in the nation.”

 Jack didn’t need to be introduced to the guy because he already knew him. He didn’t read all of those science magazines for nothing. He shook the elder hand that awaited, grinning widely, genuinely, and those eyes behind the glasses were electrifyingly intelligent and calculated. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jack. I’ve heard about you from Abraham and George, a bit from Tom, too, though it was contradictory to what those two said.” Benjamin said, and Jack felt a flush from his cheeks to his spine.

 “Thank you. it’s a very big pleasure to meet you too, Dr. Franklin.”

 Benjamin leaned back and sipped at his cup. His foot was wrapped in something, like a grocery bag, except a bit thicker.

 However, Theodore jumped at the chance to talk. “You went to Harvard? Why, that’s amazing! Did you get into any of the clubs? I enjoyed them really. Great fun.  Not all of the men there are as determined as you may think though.” He was talking quite fast and it took Jack a minute to realize what the man just said.

 But he swallowed and replied, “Hasty Pudding, Spee. A lot of swimming, too. Bit of writing if you can believe. But uh, didn’t last too long in the football team, hurt my back.”

 Theodore shook his head. “A shame really. It’s a fine good sport. I only wish I had done it, but I was busy and, well… had other things to tend to. I simply wasn’t allowed. But!” he perked up. “I taught Sunday School. And I might not’ve been the top grades-wise, but I boxed and debated, so it technically makes up for it.”

 “Boxed?” Grant said from the corner of the circle, a small slur in his speech, looking fairly drowsy.

 “Yes. Boxed.” Theodore turned to face him, and Jack sent Abraham a look that said, Your friends are insane. Abraham gently smiled and gave him the, I know. look back.

 “Do y’ wanna box sometime? I can wrestle a man to the ground, that’s got’ta be effective.” Grant sipped at his cup, smelling like whiskey and lemon.

 Theodore grinned. “I’m sure we can do that at some point when we both have time. In fact, if you sober up a bit, we can—”

 “Theodore, let’s stop trying to put one another in the hospital and just have a good time, all right?” Abraham put a hand on the man’s shoulder. Like a parent would. The two friends had a contest with their eyes before Abraham won and Theodore relented. Jack chuckled at the sight. It was like two old friends, young and spry, at some college party, one of them stopping the other from absolutely demolishing the other. But he could see it in Grant’s drunken eyes that the man could fight, and he didn’t want to get blood sprayed onto his clothes. He really didn’t.

 “Now, let’s talk about Benjamin’s dream of his wife stealing his former mistress and both of them getting together—”

 “ABRAHAM HOW ABOUT WE SWITCH THE TOPIC?”

 Jack suddenly didn’t regret going.

-

 He didn’t get to smash Jefferson over the head with a stereo (Theodore threw a stapler at him though), but he got to have a few moments alone with Abraham on the balcony. Abraham looked content and tired, while Jack’s bowtie was pretty much separate. He watched the stars in the sky and wanted to pull Abraham’s hand into his own. “I enjoyed the party.”

 “Good. I was worried you and Thomas would get into a big fight, but it seems you weren’t the one throwing a stapler at his head.”

 Jack laughed. It felt good to laugh like that. Really good. “True, that’s true.” Then he looked up at Abraham, a soft smile on his face. “You really made it special though. I wouldn’t have stayed if you weren’t here.”

 Abraham may’ve been blushing, but it must have been the lighting. It must have been. “Thanks, Jack. That means a lot to me.”

 “Well, it’s the truth, after all. I can’t lie. If you weren’t here I would’ve left immediately and let Washington deal with that emo guy.”

 Abraham laughed that time, and it was a sound Jack wanted to hear over and over again. He wanted it to be his goddamn alarm. He wanted to hear it for as long as he lived, and maybe that was a bit much, but it was the truth. “Madison’s not emo, but he surely embodies the word.”

 “Well then he is emo.”

 Both of them laughed, and Jack wondered if he did have a chance.

-

 He got home later than he thought and got into his comfortable shirt, shorts, and cat socks with little fuzzy fabric ears. He lounged on the couch—legs up on the recliner—and pulled up Abraham’s contact.

 Jack

Thanks again for making tonight fun.

Soulheart

No problem, Jack. G’night.

Jack

G’night.

He put the phone onto the table and smiled lazily at the ceiling, his hands folded together, and his heart beating as fast as the blood inside of it. He didn’t fuck it up. He didn’t mess up once tonight with Abraham, or his friends. He did it all entirely correct and Abraham was still his friend. Friend. He wanted to be lovers, really. That was all he wanted. But he could take being friends. He could take that. As long as he heard Abraham laugh again, he’d take a knife to the lungs.

 Because, as corny as it sounded, Abraham stole his breath, and he didn’t want it back.

Chapter Text

 Jack would’ve normally slept in this time, as Jackie had the kids, but due to John’s summer camp, he needed to stay an extra day. The activity they had to do was mandatory (something about attendance being short) and went to four, meaning Jack had two hours more to kill. He’d have to drive to it—so maybe that also meant more coffee. The only thing he had to look forward to was any potential interaction with Abraham and see what the activity was going to look like. If it wasn’t safe, he was going to probably stay the entire time.

 But first he needed to shut off his alarm.

 He rolled over with a groan---pills were definitely being taken right away—and shut it off, taking a minute to breathe. His back seemed insistent on hurting like a bitch today. That wasn’t unusual, but it still hurt. He got off the bed and put on a comfortable hoodie. He never wore hoodies, but he felt ready to collapse so maybe he needed it.

 Jack took his pills and managed down the stairs. It felt weird to not currently be sleeping. John would be getting up at any point now, so he made his coffee quickly. He really needed to start pre-setting this. The brew wasn’t exact but it wasn’t the worst, so he took one good sip of it to ward him off for a longer time. He looked outside. Nothing but the bright sun peering in, and trees moving through the wind. It didn’t look hot. But then again, it never looked how it felt. It could have been ninety outside and looked sixty. He could already feel the too-hot coffee burning in his stomach, and that was why he pulled out his phone to try and distract himself.

 Nothing but a text from Abraham.

 Soulheart

Good morning. I’m aware of John’s extra summer camp activity, so, maybe after you’re done dropping him off, we can go for ice cream? It’s not the hottest but I figured it’d be a nice experience. Only if you want to though!! If not, or you’re busy, that’s fine too. :)

 Jack felt his cheeks burn instantly. Getting ice cream together, huh? It wasn’t romantic but it wasn’t—no, no it was platonic, but Jack’s brain decided to imply maybe Abraham was trying to be romantic. It’s a nice thing to do with friends, just friends. They were friends. And he could say no, too, but why the hell would he? He could say he was just in it for the ice cream if he was asked why. That would work. Abraham was just a friend so he’d take that as an answer, right?

Jack

Oh no I’m able to!! I’ll drop him off pretty soon when he wakes up and after that, if YOU aren’t busy, I’ll call and we can go out. Obviously you know it ends at 4 so we have time. :)

 He swallowed back the fears that gnawed at him like hungry, starving wolves, and put his phone back into his pocket.

 Suddenly he really needed more of that coffee.

 John woke up not too much later and Jack went upstairs to get him dressed. The boy didn’t like the feeling of clothes on while he slept. Even if his clothes were either thousand-thread hand-stitched or basic fabric, it didn’t feel comfortable, and Jack literally couldn’t spend enough money to get him comfortable. Quite frankly speaking Jack didn’t mind. It gave him a glimpse into the just-woke-up thoughts of a child so young. And his eyes looked even bigger when he was tired, so he got to see his son being extra adorable, too.

 “John, how’re you feeling, bud?” he asked as he got the button-up on. They got a summer camp outfit sent just a week ago. When John saw it, he almost jumped his father’s entire existence to get the wrapped outfit from his hands. It was only upsetting when he was told he couldn’t wear it all-day. Getting the outfit dirty would cost Jack at least two hundred dollars to get another.

  John Jr. yawned, eyes glazed over with sleep, yet he rubbed his eye with his little fist. “Feel… tired.”

 “I know,” Jack smiled, getting the shoulder-sling leather fanny pack around his son’s shoulder. The outfit wasn’t complex. A dull green button-up, brown leather fanny pack around the shoulder, light grey khaki shorts with pockets, and small little ankle boots. The fiddler flat cap was optional. But since Willie and Quentin wore theirs, John wanted to complete the trio. It was more like a boy scouts outfit than anything. Jack could remember those days and it was almost ironic that his own son was already doing the same thing. “But you have camp, so you can’t stay tired.”

  John Jr. looked wide awake. “Yeah! Yeah! Camp, forgot about—can’t wait t’ do it, will they be there?”

 “Who?” Jack said. John turned around to grab his boots and hand them to his father as he sat down on the carpet. Kneeling down, Jack began to put them on.

 “Well you know! Quent, Willie, I think Polly signed up too.” the boy paused, “and uh—didn’t—maybe AJ did too. Jesse did…” he trailed off at a mumble, looking down in thought, the laces done on both boots. Jack got up and got the cap from the bed, bending down—which hurt—to put it on top of his boy’s hair. He looked like the kid from Up, and utterly adorable. He wanted to say fuck it and spend the entire day cuddling his kid if he was honest.

 “Anybody else?” he said. He brushed a bit of hair out of John’s eyes before walking to the door and grabbing his backpack that held bear spray, a sandwich and apples, apple juice, and a few other items that were required for boredom-or-stimming requirements.

 “Quentin said his brother was able to sign up too, but uh, somethin’ about his health acting funny and not knowing why … he won’t be able to come this time.”

 “…Which brother again?” Jack hated to forget this, but he really couldn’t keep track. From what John said, the kid had three, and Jack should really start checking their father’s non-political social media posts now. Between about fifty or five political posts there’s always one of a kid. He could only hope to god that it was not the one who had a pet owl.

  John giggled. “I already told you, Papa! Archie.”

 “Oh. I’ll remember this time, kiddo.” Jack said. So not the one with the pet owl. The one with the pet pony. Good to know.

 “You better. Are Caroline and Patrick still gone?” John toddled to the backpack, grabbing it and putting it around himself. “I thought they woulda returned with me.”

 Jack opened the door and let his son hastily go down the stairs. He followed after, almost missing a step, and checking his phone for anything new. Nothing. “No, unfortunately. They’re still with your mother. You’ll go back to your mother after today, too, so you’ll see them, don’t worry.” He poured out the rest of the coffee in his mug. It was cold and not right. He wasn’t going to finish it. “In the meantime, how about we start driving to the place?”

 John’s smile only beamed, and they left the house quickly. Bitches-Love-Me-2000 was waiting there patiently, sleek, and very used. It wasn’t showing but Jack definitely needed to get a new paint job done.

 They got in, Jack pulled the directions up, and they were off.

--

 John Jr. was quick to get out and run over to his friends. Jack got out slower. He observed the area; it was the beginning of a forest where they met, so behind them were miles of trees. In the distance he could see a faint stream. There were trashcans on each side of the parking lot (cars filled it up so it took him fifteen minutes to park). Parents were talking with the counselors. One of the counselors was definitely Grant. A short, faintly-orange whiskered man stood beside him, talking to another parent. It was apparent that he must’ve been a parent too. He wasn’t wearing the counselor outfit.

 Washington was a bit further away and near the end of the lot, talking to his own kid, ruffling the dark curls on the boy’s head. It was still not normal to see his boss so casual. The woods didn’t look too extreme, or dense, but enough that you had to do a bit of jumping or rolling to get really deep. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely safe or not, but it had to have been. Someone explored it anyways. The bandaids on Grant’s arms said so.

 When Jack looked to the side, he saw Jefferson—that prick—arguing quietly with a pointy-nosed red-haired man. They were about to fight by the looks of it. Another dark-haired, shorter man stood as the possible mediator between the two. And just three cars away from them were Roosevelt and a bigger man, both talking cordially.

 So Jack, ever awkward, approached Grant once he was done talking to a parent. The guy looked to be the one Jack saw at the party, with wild fading red hair and a tall lanky frame.

 “Hey. What’s the activity going to be?” he said first, shoving his hands into his pockets. Grant smiled at him.

 “Hey Jack. We’re just going to be going a bit deeper into the forest,” he turned his upper body and pointed through the forest. Jack peered in with narrowed eyes. “it’s not too dangerous—mapped it myself—and so we thought the kids could handle it. We’re going to be doing a bit of walking along the horizontal tree stumps that fell, rock-jumping across streams, the normal. It’s not too much, don’t worry, John’ll be fine.”

 Jack took a breath of relief. “That’s good. Real good. I just don’t want him getting hurt, y’know?”

 Grant chuckled, “Trust me, nobody wants their kid getting hurt. I was hesitant letting Jesse sign up. But since I’ll be there every step of the way, I decided it can’t be too bad. Robert came along with Willie, the kid had nothing to do so he went along, at Abraham’s insistence to get outside a bit more.” Then he pointed to where Robert now leaned against a tree, hands in his pockets, watching John and Willie converse.

 Jack’s smile only grew. “Yeah.” He turned his head back to Grant. “Hey, we should really get together sometime. Here, let me…” he took his phone out of his pocket. “add your number to my phone.”

 Taken off guard, Grant, whom Jack should’ve probably called Ulysses now, added his number to Jack’s phone. He had a positive look in his eyes that indicated he didn’t make friends often, and Jack really wanted to get the guy loose and happy for once. Something was dull. Somewhere, deep.

 “I’m glad we just solidified our friendship, Jack,” Ulysses said. As if this was a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence.

 “I am too. Fortunately, after this, I’m going to go see Abraham for ice cream so you may get one of us texting you.” that garnered a laugh from Ulysses, who crossed his arms.

 “Yeah, I guess. See you.”

 “See you too, man.” Jack walked off, waving goodbye to his son who happily waved back, before quickly being sucked into a game by Willie. Those two would be at each other’s weddings, he just knew it. Best friends like that didn’t come by John frequently. He felt happy for his son. To not only befriend someone, but befriend someone really nice, someone with a really nice Dad, too. That was a hella lot of luck for a kid to have—and for Jack to have.

 However, as he got into the car, he checked his phone once more, spotting a text from Jackie.

JackieButNotJackson

Would this fit Patrick for his birthday????? I showed it to him and he giggled so I think im getting it either way

 She sent a picture of a definitely-too-expensive baby onesie, a teddy bear symbol in the middle with the custom text of I give Uncle Teddy hell but I’m cute underneath. It was obviously thousands of dollars, custom-made, and by whom, Jack assumed one of the best designers in the country. The baby blue color of its body would look pretty cute on Patrick, too. And besides, five grand wasn’t too much, anyways.

Jackinthebox

It’d fit. Get it 100% it’s not that much so his birthday won’t put us in debt lol

JackieButNotJackson

Please, NOTHING could put you in debt. You, or your father.

Jackinthebox

Okay point taken. Going to see Abraham so don’t you dare blow my phone up I will turn this thing off instantly

JackieButNotJackson

Lol going on a date with your boyfriend means I wont call you at all. I wouldn’t want to interrupt you guys. Have funnn

Jackinthebox

Omg its not a date

 Jack shoved his phone back into his pocket with a new warmth in his cheeks, holding back a scream, holding the wheel tighter. Jackie may’ve revealed exactly what he wanted with Abraham—a real date—but that didn’t mean she needed to know. But now she was likely giggling and smiling smugly, like she knew exactly how he was reacting. She did. But then he had to pull his phone back out because fuck, he forgot to text Abraham as well.

 Jack

Heyyy I just dropped John off. You free?

He immediately regretted the extra y’s.

Soulheart

mhm! Just got done doing some work. It’s never ending, I swear.

Jack chuckled.

Jack

I get it. wanna meet at the park, get ice cream, take a walk around the block? Or we can do some of that paperwork together.

Soulheart

I appreciate the offer but I cant trust that you wont draw inappropriate things on Jefferson’s files. But that works! We can loop back to the park a few minutes before you need to get John. I’ll need to collect Will and Robert, as much as I trust Ulysses with the kids, he’ll have to bring Jesse to his own house, so would it be fine if I rode with you? my own car is in the lot so…

Jack

Oh that works! I don’t mind if you ride with me at all. Did you walk to the school from the lot? It’s a long walk. And I would never do something such as drawing on some asshole’s files, of course not!

Soulheart

Eh, you get used to it. And I like to think you would. At least you didn’t hit him with a stapler though.

Jack

Haha, yeah. Ill drive to the park now :)

Soulheart

Alright. Ill walk. See you in a few :)

Jack

see ya :)

Jack was basically giggling and smiling like a schoolgirl as he put his phone back into his pocket.

 He flipped the car mirror out and began to tweak his hair, needing each strand to be perfect. It had to be—he wasn’t going to go see his crush with fucked up hair. There was no way in the seven rings of hell that he would see anyone with messed up hair. That was a death sentence. No matter what anyone else said it was a damn death sentence to go and see someone with messy, fucked hair. The one time he did it the photo was everywhere until Bobby threatened the right person and it went away. Bobby still didn’t know Jack knew, though.

 He definitely didn’t care that he was doing this right in front of his mirror. Definitely.

 …Yeah he shouldn’t have.

 He fixed his hair enough that it looked, personally, presentable, and drove off, heading to the nearest park possible. It was the last one they went to. Maplewood, as big as it was, had benches and a small little ice cream shop at some part of it. They had tens of different flavors and other items, like macaroons, pastries, and a few drinks. It was basically a sweets shop than anything. He would always get the Oreo flavor.

 When he pulled up, he got out of his car and walked the distance from the start of the park to the middle, where a circle of benches awaited, all underneath massive trees. The park was beautiful on all sides. In the distance he could see where he and Abraham had spent a part of the day with the kids. He rolled his sleeves up—even if it was shady he wasn’t going to die of heat strokes—and his eyes finally landed on Abraham, sitting yet still tall, one leg folded over the other and looking up at the trees that had one or two bird nests inside of them.

 “Abraham!”

 Jack walked over, watching a beautiful smile bloom on Abraham’s face.

 “Jack.”

 “How’s your day been?” Jack asked, sitting beside Abraham, already feeling jittery and beyond happy. He was with Abraham. This was all he wanted. All he needed. To hear the man’s voice say his name and see him was everything to Jack.

 “It’s been as good as it can be. I’ve been texting my friends since I woke up, apparently ever since we last talked—less than a day ago—one of them burnt breakfast and started a fire, the other is on the edge of his seat out of worry, and the other got bit by a dog for assuming all dogs were nice off bat.”

 Jack laughed. He could vaguely wonder who was who, but he didn’t need to guess the last one. “Yeah, I’ve done that last one before.”

 “I can imagine,” Abraham said, still smiling, hell, even a bit wider now, “let’s go see what flavors they have in store, huh?”

 Both of them got up and wandered over to the ice cream shop, a small little thing with a couple, Rutherford and Lucy, running it. Their weekly special was usually a variation of lemonade and an on-sale flavor of ice cream to go with it. If it called for it, the ice cream was swapped out for a donut flavor. When they got Rutherford’s attention, he asked, “What would you two like?”

 “I’ll get the lemonade sherbet ice cream. Jack?” Abraham looked over to Jack, who was studying the menu on the side very intently, and who almost didn’t hear the man. He took a deep breath before answering.

 “I’ll get the dark chocolate with fudge bits.”

 Rutherford nodded and went to the back of the truck to get it. Jack, who had studied the menu like it was a scientific experiment about to explode, did the math and put a fifty on the windowsill. Abraham stared at him as if he was crazy. “…You do know it can’t be more than fifteen dollars at most, right?”

 “I know. Just as a tip, y’know?”

 “…more than thirty-five dollars as a tip is different.”

 “No. Not really. I could pay more if that’s not enough, though—?” and then as Jack reached for his wallet again, Abraham put a hand on his wrist, and for a moment, Jack felt electricity flowing through his veins than warm blood. It was a thousand degrees all over.

 “No, no—I meant different as in it’s very generous,” Abraham said, sounding shocked. “It’s… a good thing. But don’t be too generous. You don’t want to go broke.”

 “Fifty dollars won’t make me broke, Abraham.” Jack smiled cheekily while Abraham let go. Abraham playfully rolled his eyes with a fond grin crossing his features. If he reminded Jack of a portrait that he’d like to stare at forever, then that was Jack’s own business. Because damn did it make his eyes look even better.

 When they got their ice cream and Rutherford tried to give him change, Jack refused, and without another word other than ‘Have a good day’, the two walked away with their cones in hand. “You really didn’t need to do that,” Abraham commented. He licked at his cone and his face briefly soured.

 “I know, but…” Jack shrugged mid-lick, “I just want to help people.”

 “That’s nice of you, Jack. Really is.” Abraham smiled. And then he linked his arms with Jack. Now it was well over a million degrees, because Jack’s cheeks were boiling hot, and he almost choked on the cold ice cream in his mouth even while it melted. Holy hell. Holy shit. He was linking arms with his crush. His crush was linking arms with him. There must be absolutely no God left because this was insane. This was—this was unimaginable. He must have been dreaming.

 He almost stumbled over himself as they kept walking.

 “T-Thanks.” He stammered, licking his ice cream again to attempt to cool himself down.

 “You don’t have to thank me considering it’s true,” Abraham said. He was looking at the scenery of the park, the trees big, beautiful, full of life. Maybe if he looked long enough he wouldn’t notice Jack being a goddamn cherry. And yeah, the trees were pretty. Pretty and lively. They were obviously in the best shape they would be for the year—when the winter would come, they’d all die, and it’d look more like a cemetery instead of a beautiful city park.

 They made more conversation while they walked and both got a few laughs out of the other. It was a friendly thing. No strings attached. Jack finished his ice cream first, and Abraham, when asked why he wasn’t eating it quicker as it was melting, said, “Oh—I’m not hungry anymore. Do you want the rest?” and Jack hesitantly took it. It was obvious Abraham was hungry. That he still wanted to eat. His eyes showed emotions the man didn’t want to have, and Jack took that in. It haunted him for a minute.

 He would have to keep an eye on Abraham’s eating. He would need to. Because he was just a worried friend. That was it.

 --

 Somewhere along the way, Jack and Abraham encountered an old high school friend. Lyndon B. Johnson. The kid who fucked just about every girl in the school, harassed every girl in the school, and was now somehow married and still had a career regardless of all of the harassment. Jack never liked him truthfully. He tolerated the guy. Not because he wanted to, but because beating the guy’s lights out would definitely get him on the school’s newspaper and his father wouldn’t have liked that.

 “Jack. How’s it going with you now? Still married to Jackie?” Lyndon asked with a grin. Ah yes, Jackie. When Jack found out the asshole was being weird to her, he almost sent a long-ass email threatening the man to stay away or he’d break his spine. Jackie persuaded him not to. To this day he still regretted it.

 “We’re divorced. Mutually.”

 Lyndon’s grin took on a thoughtful look, and Jack was close to punching him.

 “I see.”

 “How about you and Lady Bird?” Jack asked, a sickly sweet tone to his words. He didn’t support all of the affairs, and damn it, he wished he would have convinced Lady Bird to leave him.

 “We’re good, we’re good,” Lyndon said uninterestedly. He looked at Abraham. “Lyndon B. Johnson. What’s your name?” he held out a hand, and Abraham reluctantly took it. The southerner was already not in Abraham’s good graces and Jack could sense it like a hound dog.

 “Abraham Lincoln.”

 “Lincoln, Lincoln… I’ve heard that last name before.”

 And if Lyndon didn’t sense Abraham’s awkwardness or his uncomfortable stance, then he was a fucking idiot. And Lyndon didn’t sense it at all.

 They conversed stiffly and awkwardly for a bit until Lyndon began to enquire about Abraham’s own ex. He asked if Abraham was married, Abraham said divorced on good terms, and it went from there. At some point Lyndon started taking it in the worst way possible. “Huh. Is she hot?”

 Abraham promptly punched Lyndon in the face.

 Lyndon fell like a fucking stick and was likely unconscious. It was only unfortunate he didn’t hit his head hard enough to die on the pavement.

 “Sorry, I punched him.”

 “That’s okay.” Because it was more than okay. “It’s a good thing, actually. Never liked that son of a bitch.” Jack added, and Abraham sighed in relief.

 “Good. Let’s continue our walk.” And so they did. Jack would never admit it, but he was beyond impressed and glad Abraham punched Lyndon. If he couldn’t, then Abraham could, and it looked like Abraham had more than enough strength to fight a bear. So maybe it was even better that he did it and not Jack. (But Jack still really wanted to punch Lyndon. Someday he would. He swore.)

--

 When they were done, and things were over, he drove him and Abraham to the campsite again, where children waited for their parents. The sun was already beginning to set. Even if it was summer, it seemed likely to rain, and that was beyond unusual. Willie instantly ran over to Abraham who picked him up happily. The boy already began to rant about everything they did. And Jack knew he’d get his own version, because John came in like a bullet train. “Papa! Papa! It was so fun!”

 Jack picked him up, propping him with an arm underneath. “Oh yeah? What did you do?”

 “Mr. Grant showed us how to walk along a tree stump steadily, a-and Mr. Berkman showed us how to get pebbles to skip on water! It took me a few tries but Quentin helped me. Willie did a super cool one—he did a bunch at once!” John explained while his father got him into the car.

 Jack could feel a warm smile appear on his face. “That sounds great.”

 “It was! And I can’t wait t’ tell Mama and Caroline and Patrick,” John said, smiling as wide as he could, practically bouncing in his seat out of excitement. It was obviously he wasn’t tired. His hat was held tightly in his hands, and Jack slid into the car only seconds later, closing the door and staring the car already.

 “I can imagine they’ll be really interested, Johnny. I know I am. Can you tell me more?”

 “Uh, well I don’t remember much, but—”

 John Jr. continued as they drove home. Mid-drive it began to rain as Jack predicted, so he started using the windshield wipers. John got distracted once or twice by the raindrops running down the glass but Jack got him back on track with his story by asking, “And then what?”. It always worked. They seemed to have a good time; the kids learned how to make friendship bracelets of all intricate designs, and Grant only fell into the water once. It was shallow so he got up by himself. But his face was dripping wet and covered in mud at the bottom of the river, so they all enjoyed a laugh out of that. Jack could imagine that Ulysses wasn’t laughing as much though.

 “It sounds like you had a good time,” Jack said once they pulled into the driveway. He then got out of the car and opened John’s while blocking his hair with one hand. John Jr. got out happily, and his father envied him for one moment, because he had a hat, and Jack didn’t.

 They got inside fairly quickly and John was already taking off his fanny pack and his hat, Jack helped him with the boots and put them on the carpet (they were muddy as all living hell and Jack was hand-washing them. If it didn’t work out, then he guessed his kid was wearing Doc Martens to the next summer meeting.) before his son got onto the couch. Once he did he instantly asked what dinner was going to be.

 Jack sighed. “We’ll see. If I can’t find anything we’ll order food, all right, bud?”

 “All right!”

 They ended up ordering because Jack spaced out thinking about Abraham as he made chicken nuggets and they set ablaze. At least John enjoyed the take-out restaurant chicken nuggets.

--

 Jack checked his phone one last time and as he thought, there was one text from Abraham.

Soulheart

Goodnight.

Jack

Goodnight.

Jack turned over and fell asleep with a smile.

Chapter Text

 Jack’s spine hurt when he woke up, his neck was stiff, and his eye wouldn’t stop twitching. The morning wasn’t the best. Admittedly, he didn’t sleep much and should’ve probably chosen a better sleeping position. But he was beyond tired and in the moment couldn’t care less. Now though, as he sat in the school parking lot, sipping on his fourth coffee (and he wondered why his eye was twitching?), he probably should have cared a whole lot more. Even the soft expensive feeling of the chair couldn’t help.

 He took another long, long sip and sighed, staring out of the window. Pretty soon the kids would be let out of school. Jackie, ever the best friend, had volunteered to come down and relieve him of a bit of tension. Maybe take the kids out to the park or help take care of Patrick for him. While it was very tempting, Jack refused, not wanting to get Jackie involved just because he was having a bad week.

 Now he was regretting that decision. And gravely.

 He sunk lower into the chair—slouching—and that made the pain worse at the angle his spine bent, so he had to sit back up again, the pain shooting up his body like little sparks and zaps of electricity. As if he was struck with a taser. On the worst days, he could feel every nudge against his spine, every movement, hear every pop. Those were the days he could barely get up. Those were the days he debated calling Jackie while in sobs because even reaching for the phone would hurt like nothing else.

 The coffee began to run bitter on his tongue, and he took another sip, which likely wouldn’t cure it at all. He could vaguely hear the sounds of children inside of the building. It was a dreary start of a Tuesday. The rain poured down quite hard, and therefore, it was grey and gloomy outside. John Jr. didn’t want to wear a coat, but he did under the stance that if he complied, he’d get to see his friends and play with them. He looked adorable with his froggy rain boots.

 And then as the rain hit the windows, and he was aware of the pain running through his body, Jack’s mind wandered.

 He didn’t spend much time in his thoughts. It wasn’t the best when he did. Most of his thoughts were about equality and how to improve the living of everyone, since that was… very much slept on in the government (and that old fuck running it would have a field day playing with grass to entertain himself. Jack could do far better as president), but behind that, behind the debates and the cute thoughts of the kids and the pets and his interest in Abraham, were sad, sad thoughts. Ones he buried underneath the others as a means of acting as if they didn’t exist. Sometimes in college, he’d stare up at the ceiling and play dead for a few moments. Staring up at a blank ceiling, emotionless, still and just… there. There, but not there.

 He snapped himself out of that stupor while sitting in the car. But he missed that. As hollow of an activity as it was, as depressing, it was a way to let go even if it was for a minute or five.

 He didn’t get those moments anymore.

 “Come on, Quent! Come on, we need t’ see Papa so we can play quicker!” John Jr.’s sweet little voice called from outside, and Jack looked out of the window to see his kid—big coat and all—practically dragging around the boy in question with Willie following right behind. Willie had on a little bucket hat to protect his hair and Quentin wasn’t wearing a coat, instead wearing a turtleneck.

 Jack got out of the car—grabbing an umbrella first because fuck that—and smiled. “Well you see me.”

 John gasped and ran over, eyes beaming brightly with a child’s wonderous mind, and jumped up for his father to hold him. Jack got him into his arms with a grunt and adjusted the umbrella between his arm and chest. “Hey, champ,” Jack said, “how was school? Do anything fun?” he spotted Abraham in the sea of parents coming out as well, so he nodded to the man. They would talk but for now, John was Jack’s main concern. Caroline didn’t want to wait in the car so she sat at home with Patrick.

 “We finger-painted! And Quent accidentally got a bit of blue on his cheek, so I added red, and—and Willie added yellow, and we did the primary colors! We learned about all of these old guys who ran our country, too, did you know—did you know one of them has your name? He got shot!”

 …

 “Wow. That’s… awesome.” Jack said awkwardly, blinking. He knew his history, obviously he knew what John was talking about. But hearing your kid say ‘He got shot!’ so happily with a grin is a weird sight. John looked just as enthralled as Jack let on.

 “I know! And uh—” John swallowed, “we also—Willie gave out a bunch a’ stickers, so, I have a sticker.”

 “Can I see it?”

 John scrambled to pull it out of his coat, and once he did, he presented it proudly right in front of Jack’s face; it was a cute little frog sticker (huh. Fitting.) that was in the shape of a blob, yet smiling, rain pouring down onto the little thing. It fit for the weather and he had a feeling Willie knew that. “Oh. It’s really cool, John. You could put it on your backpack.”

 “No, I want to keep it so I can always have it with me.” Then John’s grin widened. “Can me and Willie and Quentin play?”

 “It’s, ‘Can Willie and Quentin and I play’, but yes.” Jack set John down onto his feet, and the little scamp ran off. Abraham walked over almost instantly with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t seem to care about the rain, or the way it soaked his shirt, or that he looked damn good covered in rain.

 “You’re really good with kids, you know that?” was the first thing Abraham said. He leaned against the car’s side and crossed his arms. His sleeves were rolled up and exposed his forearms, which Jack tried quite hard not to stare.

 He smiled and said, “Thanks. It’s just natural. You’re good with kids too, if it helps,” and Abraham’s look of joy at that was nothing short of adorable to Jack.

 “Thank you, Jack.  I really do try and it’s not the easiest having five boys and nobody to help. But John as a friend has really helped Willie. He was a friendly kid, but now it’s as if he’s entirely different.” Abraham responded. His voice took a soft, loving tone when he talked about his boy. It was obvious to everyone that he prioritized his kids over everything else. He was the dad that, if his kids were in trouble he’d be running a mile just to get there before any officers or ambulance. It was actually nice to see. Jack had a soft spot for kids, and to see somebody share that—and somebody he was into no less—was really nice to see.

 Jack chuckled. “Yeah, us Kennedy’s have that effect on people.” He joked, and Abraham gave a small laugh, an absolutely amazing grin blessing his face. It made Jack’s heart just nearly burst out of pure love for the man that went into his life like an unexpected bomb that burst on impact. He covered the dark, muted tones with bright colors, bright blues and reds and greens and purples and all of the rest. Jack loved him.

 “I know, you don’t need to tell me.”

 “Well, just in case you ever forgot.”

 They both shared another laugh and it wasn’t long before they were content with watching the kids. The other parents watched as well. He could recognize the bigger one—but he could just barely remember the one with fading orange-whiskers and eyes that were startlingly blue. In certain ways Jack could see them as dark black pits. Pits that held a good manner, but could easily turn cold and manipulative if just turned a specific way.

 “Do you know those two? I mean, I know you know him,” he pointed at Roosevelt, who was farther away, “but what about them?”

 Abraham paused for a second before he responded. “I know Taft, the one with the mustache. He’s seen with Theodore most times. I think their kids have playdates often. I…” he seemed to have trouble with the other man. “…I’ve seen him, he picks up Martin Jr., and so I can imagine his name is Martin. He’s Matty’s father. We’ve barely interacted—I never need to call Matty in for anything. I’m sure I’d recognize his voice though, we’ve had over-the-phone conferences.”

 Jack nodded along with what the man said and pieced it together in his head. That would make sense. Once or twice he’d see a red-haired kid play with John, that must have been Matty.

 “All right, makes sense. I get that. What’s the plan for you guys today?” he asked, playing with the fabric of his jeans on the inside of his pockets. He pulled the umbrella from its rightful spot and spun it in his hands as a way of doing at least something stimulating.

 Abraham shrugged, taking his eyes off of the kids to face Jack, “I’m not sure. We were going to go on a walk but it’s raining. Robert’s got some tutoring tonight, so once I get home, I’ll get him some food, he’ll go to the tutor’s house, and he’ll come back around ten. Don’t tell him,” he leaned in playfully, “but I put a tracker on his phone. You can’t be too careful.”

 Jack cracked up at that, a giggle leaving him as he could imagine doing that himself. A part of his mind whispered, He’d be a perfect parent to the kids. and he shut that part of his mind off.

 “I know what it’s like.”

 CRACK!

“AAAAHHHHHHHH!”

Their eyes shot up to the kids. It was a boy’s scream, terrified, in pain, needing help, and the only thing both of them saw was red.

 The other parents were already freaking out but Abraham looked especially haunted. Jack could only hold back a gag. There, on the wet, muddy grass, was Willie, pant leg rolled up, exposing a very deep and long gash along his leg. Blood was just about everywhere. It wouldn’t stop coming out, it wouldn’t stop, it wouldn’t stop, and Jack almost vomited. There was so much of it. Willie was screaming—shrieking—out of pain and terror. When he called out, “PAPA!”, Abraham snapped out of his trance, and he was by his son within a millisecond. Jack only watched in frozen horror. The blood was soaking into the kid’s sock and boot and the grass, now stained a dark and yet mesmerizingly disgusting red-brown. John was kneeling near Willie, fear painted on his face like a porcelain doll’s makeup.

 Quentin was pulling out a bandaid from his pocket but—realizing that wouldn’t do anything—could only hand it to Willie as a means of something to hold, something to squeeze, and Quentin’s father was quick to pick him up and away from the blood. The blood that was everywhere, that was coming from Abraham’s son, that was coming from just a kid.

 Seeing John Jr. look horrified snapped Jack from his own trance. He ran over and almost slipped, but managed to pick his child up, John’s face covered in rain and tears as they mingled into one. “We need to get him to a hospital, I don’t—” Jack stammered. He was at a loss for words. Abraham had torn off a piece of his sleeve to dab at the wound but it was pouring out blood so quick that it did virtually nothing.

 Jack found words. “—car, car, we can get into my car, c’mon—” he patted Abraham’s shoulder twice. When his eyes met Jack’s, Jack only saw two horrified, terrified, brown dots staring at him. He was pale in the face already and it was impossible to tell rain from tears. But a father’s fear was evident. A father’s fear of loss was evident. Abraham was shaking, and Jack was too.

 Abraham gently picked Willie up. The shriek of pain that came from the boy was nothing short of flinch-inducing. Quentin and Charlie were already being led back to their parents’ cars, but Theodore and Abraham shared a brief, second-long look that said, Get your son help. Don’t stop until he’s safe. and, Jack noted, a touch of… understanding, from Theodore.

 He’d ask when his crush’s kid wasn’t bleeding non-stop. They got into the car hastily, blood coating and soaking the seats, but Jack barely registered it as Bitches-Love-Me-2000 powered on. The rain was pounding harder and so was Jack’s heartbeat. Abraham got into the passenger’s seat with his son curled up in his arms. Willie’s eyes were glazed over in pain and… and soon-to-be unconsciousness. That wasn’t good.

 “I’m about to break the law,” Jack muttered under his breath and took off illegally fast. John had done his seatbelt with shaky hands. Abraham wasn’t even attempting to rip his eyes from his son. He was shaking, he was pale, and they were all soaking wet. He mumbled constant reassurances to Willie but whether it was to him or both of them or himself, the other man couldn’t tell.

 It was terrifying.

 And the thought of Willie not making it hurled Jack’s heart into a panic.

 The ride took about three minutes—Jack wasn’t sure, he was more focused on Willie living than how long it took—and they got out as quick as they could. John, though told to stay inside of the car, went with his father. He despised the hospital with its chemically smells and its nasty shots that hurt, but his friend was hurt. Willie hadn’t stopped bleeding. It may’ve slowed but it didn’t stop. Abraham was a panicked mess and could barely keep his arms steady enough to hold his boy. His pupils were dilated into small thin slits. Jack checked in within twenty seconds; it was far faster than normal but a dying kid on display for everyone to see was quite the reason to be quick. And if Willie didn’t make it, God forbid, because the staff took forever, Jack had every goddamn right to sue them.

 Willie was carted away on a stretcher but Abraham couldn’t sit still in the chair. He wanted to be there with his son, be there, and see him, be there and see him breathe for possibly the last time, but instead he had to sit in a fucking chemical-smelling chair that had an uncomfortable hard texture. Jack sat right next to him. Both of them were soaking wet. Jack, in a hurry, left the umbrella, and his hair was mussed, but he didn’t care in the moment. John sat down right by him, nervously playing with the fidget toy in his hands, breathing heavily. His friend was hurt. Abraham was lost in thought. He was shaking, his fingers were curling and uncurling rapidly, and he looked like he was on the edge of a panic attack.

 Jack could spot a moment of need, and he reluctantly told John to go off and try to distract himself in the small play area of the hospital. He leaned into Abraham, but didn’t touch him. He didn’t know Abraham’s triggers. Was physical touch a no? “You know, you can talk about how you feel. Go for it.”

 “No, no—I—he’s… I… I can’t lose him. Too close—too close with Robert, too close with… no…” Abraham mumbled, rapid and almost connecting words together. “You know, I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t. They’re all I have. I can’t lose anyone that I love, not anymore.” And then, he inhaled, “Oh god I have to tell Mary what happened.”

 Jack grimaced. His heart wasn’t slowing down, but he could keep in the screams he wanted to release. “I’ve lost people too. I know how it feels. I know how it feels to not want to lose someone. When the sadness creeps in and you can’t, it, it won’t let go…” he creeped his hand closer to Abraham’s. “…and—you… do you want to talk about it?” he breathed, words falling off at the end. He didn’t know what to say. Nothing could make this right. Nothing. Nothing but Willie being all right. He’d known the boy for less than a year, but he already felt a parental instinct towards him.

 “…I know it sounds bad. Horrible even. But right now?” Abraham paused. “Right now I just want my mother. I want her to tell me it’s going to be fine. I want her to—” he cut himself off with a choked sob.

 “I want my mom, Jack.”

 Jack could feel his heart wither up at the tone of pure heartbreak in Abraham’s voice. “I know.” he whispered. “And I’m so sorry that you can’t have that.”

 Abraham sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes again, “And now I’m here, as my son is dying, and I’m thinking of my mother instead of my own son,” he let out a miserable laugh. “I’m pathetic.”

 “No, no you’re not,” Jack shook his head immediately. “you’re so damn brave. You’re amazing and smart. If I was you? I would’ve already collapsed and called the entire goddamn medical team in this city.” His fingers instinctively reached for Abraham’s to comfort the man, and he didn’t even notice Abraham didn’t pull back. “If it makes you feel better, my back hurts like hell, and I have to deal with that every day. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll kill me. Sometimes it hurts so much I want it to kill me, but you know what? I regret that thought right after because I have my kids to take care of.” He paused to keep in his own sob. Tears were rolling down his cheeks but he couldn’t feel them. Not for the burn of the tears that had began to dry under the new ones.

 “You can do this, Abraham. If he…” he can’t say it. “I’ll pay for all of it. I’ll do everything you want me to.”

 Abraham laughed again. Less miserable but still panicked. “Now how would that make me feel better?” his back hit the wall behind him, a deep exhale escaping from the slight impact. “Knowing you’re in pain every day isn’t going to help me. It makes me feel worse because you’re in pain every single day of your life, chronic pain, chronic illness, and I whine at a bad paper cut. You’re in horrible shape compared to me, Jack, and I feel so damn guilty that I can’t help you. You’re in physical pain; why are you helping me?”

 Jack didn’t answer right away. In fact, he couldn’t. But then he found it. He found an answer, from the depths of his mind. Pulled between all of the screaming and the thoughts of Is Willie okay?. “Because I want to, and I care about you.” more than you could ever know was left unsaid. Unspoken.

 The taller man looked down at his lap, tears still falling, along with the rain that was beginning to dry up. “I know what you just said was… meant to be inspiring but… if he does, death will sound even greater.”

 Jack instantly pulled him close and forced Abraham to look into his eyes. “No.” his own voice was wobbly, because the thought of—no. He wouldn’t lose Abraham. “You won’t do that to me, you won’t do that to Tad, Robert, or Eddie. You hear me? I will force you to live. I don’t care. Those boys will need their father in this time. Now call them and Mary, or I will.”

 Abraham’s lip quivered. “I can’t. I can’t—I won’t be able t’ talk to her. I won’t be able to stand it.”

 Jack nodded in understanding, and plucked Abraham’s phone from his pocket, opening contacts. He missed the one named Dearheart narrowly as he reached ‘M’ and called the one titled Mary.

 Ring…

Ring…

“Abraham?”

“Hello. I’m Jack, and I’m calling from Abraham’s phone for him.” Jack said. He didn’t want her to think he was a killer, or something, holding her ex for ransom. “Will—William, your son, is in the hospital, and we’re in the waiting room. I’d recommend coming if you can but if not, we will give you updates.”

 “…What happened?” Mary sounded intensely panicked instantly. Jack couldn’t blame her.

 “William was playing with my son and a few others when he presumably fell and cut his leg open, horribly. It started bleeding profusely. He was taken to the hospital immediately. We don’t know his condition, but we hope it’ll come soon.”

 Mary inhaled audibly. “I hate to say it, but I can’t make it. I will as soon as I possibly can. Thank you for telling me. Do the boys know?”

“No. Abraham will tell them as soon as we’re done talking.”

 “All right.” Mary took a deep breath, sounding on the verge of tears, “T-Thank you. Tell… Tell Abraham I love him and that this isn’t his fault, okay? He’ll need that part.”

 Jack nodded. “I will.”

 She hung up, and he almost collapsed out of relief against the wall. His back was beginning to hurt already. He sat down in the too-hard chair and took Abraham’s hand into his. If he noticed he did, then he couldn’t care. “She knows now. She said she loves you, and that this isn’t your fault.” Jack said. Abraham nodded dully. He looked partially convinced, while the other part looked ready to scream that it was and beg for forgiveness. “You need to call the boys now. Want help?”

 Abraham shook his head and stood up. His legs were unstable. “No, no. They’re my sons, I have to tell them.” He walked over to the phone and began to call. Jack processed that he was holding hands with his crush, but… it didn’t feel right to get all blushy when they were in the hospital over something dangerously important and serious. It felt good, like a step in the right direction, but… he didn’t turn red like he would have.

 When Abraham finished talking to the boys, he was teary-eyed still. “Robert—he… he sounded so worried. So small. Like he was five again.” He let out a sad chuckle at the end, eyes shining with unshed tears. He looked ready to curl in on himself. “I remember when I was like that. Worried that… that someone wouldn’t come back.” He swallowed.

 Then, he added, as a whisper, “Jack, I’m scared. And I haven’t admitted that in years.”

 Jack just hugged him. He hugged back as tight as he could. He smelled like rain, tears, blood—which was soaking into his and Jack’s clothing—, and wood. But he smelled like home.

 It didn’t take long for someone to come over. Not a Doctor, but Theodore, who came into the hospital with insistence in his eyes. He looked sobered. It was weird, different, and downright disturbingly opposite of his normal nature. When Abraham saw him, he got up, and they enveloped into a tight hug. They pulled away and Theodore looked right into Abraham’s eyes. Jack could barely make out what he said.

 “Listen. I’m so, so sorry. Quentin hasn’t stopped worrying, and once he told Archie, both of them are frazzled worse than curly hair on a hot day. Willie will be fine. If n…” he trailed off but it was obvious he was going to say ‘If not’. But he looked vaguely uncomfortable about it, as if it recalled his own horrible memories. “…he’ll be fine. He will. And, hey,” he reached into his bulky coat to pull out a stuffed lamb. It was white with fluff and two floppy little ears, two black buttons for eyes, and a pretty pink nose. It looked well mended. “Quentin wanted you to have this. You, or Willie, he didn’t specify.”

 Abraham handled the lamb with such care it was as if it was glass. He looked ready to cry again. “Thank you, Theo, really,” he sniffled, “I appreciate it. And—to know you still came in, even if…” he knew. He knew what Jack would never ask about without hesitating. “…you don’t like these places.”

 Theodore managed a smile. A tough one, but a smile. “Yeah. Tell us everything, okay? Not only because I’m worried, but Quentin and Archie are close to exploding out of worry.”

 As he turned to leave once the two said goodbye, he spared a glance at Jack and nodded. He had a… a look in his eyes. He was onto something—onto… maybe Jack’s feelings? But regardless, Jack nodded back, and Abraham sat back down. He wasn’t shaking as much, but he was still insanely worried. He was breathing just as heavy but he was tired. Horribly tired.

 “You should rest.” Jack commented.

 Abraham shook his head. “No.” he said, an agitated, but quickly draining tone to it, “I can’t. My kid is hurt, Jack. I couldn’t even if I tried. What if something happens and I’m not awake?”

 “I’ll wake you.”

 “No.”

 Jack sighed. He didn’t want to force the man to sleep, but he could tell Abraham was drained. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. “In that case,—” he cut himself off when he leaned back. A hiss escaped him when his spine rested onto the chair, immediately lunging forward. Damn, that hurt. Abraham looked over, worried.

 “Are you all right?”

 “Just some spine pain.”

 “And how can I sleep if you’re in pain.” Abraham frowned. Jack sighed. He could see the man’s point.     

 “Fair.”

 “You…” Abraham struggled, but his hand sought Jack’s, and it was a moment of particular tenderness for a father who was in panic-mode. “…you know, I appreciate you trying to help me. I mean, being able to talk about that stuff… it doesn’t come by a lot. I appreciated that. You’ve done far more today than you ever had to and you’re amazing for that, Jack, you really are.”

 Jack smiled. “Thank you, Abraham. It’s just what a friend does. I couldn’t let Will be injured, either. Hey,” he pulled out his phone. “This may seem like bad timing, but do you want to look at dark humor jokes?”

 Abraham smiled. Tired, but interested. “I’d love to.”

 For a minute they looked at dark humor, neither in the mood to laugh, but spending time with one another was enough. John came along at some point and asked about Willie. When they said they didn’t have an update, he frowned and nodded. It was worrying, though—they didn’t have an update already. They needed one. For Abraham’s sanity and Jack’s nerves, they needed an update and it had to be good or Abraham was going to break.

 So when a Doctor came over finally two hours later, Jack almost cried in relief. “He’s good to go, but it’s recommended he doesn’t walk on that leg for a minute. He doesn’t need crutches, but it’d be best if he took it easy. I’d carry him for a little. He had to get stitches, and eventually they’ll fade so you won’t see them, but it may take a year or two.”

 Abraham looked ready to start crying and screaming out of relief. Almost all of the tension drained from him, like a body being deprived of its soul essence. “Oh thank God. Thank you, Doctor, thank you—”

 “It’s nothing.” The Doctor shook his head. “Now, for the bill—”

 “I’ll pay.” Jack cut in before Abraham could. “Add it to my account.”

 “Jack—” Abraham began, but Jack shook his head. He was going to pay for this. Abraham didn’t have to be burdened by the unfairly large debt that hospitals could give you. Principal jobs weren’t the best and he knew for a damn fact Abraham didn’t have a basically trust-fund like Jack did. If he didn’t want to use the money on random things, he’d use it on something like helping a friend out.

 The Doctor licked his lips and nodded slowly. “If you can pay for it, Mr.?”

 “Mr. John F. Kennedy.”

 The Doctor’s eyebrows rose at his last name, but nodded again affirmatively. “If you can pay for it, Mr. Kennedy, then by all means, pay.”

 Jack paid for the entire bill as Abraham watched in shock, and amazement, with a hint of something else mixed in. Jack couldn’t tell what it was—was it like or was it appreciation or? Something. Something deathly similar. Whatever it was, Jack liked to see it in the man’s eyes. Willie soon came out and Abraham scooped him up impossibly gently. The boy’s leg was wrapped up with thick gauze and there was the tips of stitching poking out from underneath. It was in black stitching, a stark contrast from his skin. He cuddled into his father’s chest.

 Abraham was obviously over the moon. “Hey, Buddy, hey,” he whispered, tears almost overflowing out of happiness.

 Jack smiled at the sight and his heart warmed. John wanted to hug his friend of course, but he knew what a good, parental moment was, and he kept to his father’s side. Abraham was able to handle the call to Mary on Willie’s condition and the stitches, and he called Theodore as well, his friend’s booming voice—far louder out of relieved happiness—nearly echoing through the entire hall. Abraham laughed freely as it happened. Some people even threw glances when Theodore said ‘By George!’ fairly loud. Nobody said that anymore, but apparently he did.

 Quentin and Archie briefly said hi to Willie on the phone, followed by a smaller voice saying hi too, likely Charlie, and then they hung up. Abraham insisted to go home alone. “Jack, really, we’ll be fine. You don’t need to do anything else. Hell, that bill was tens of thousands and you still paid. You’ve done more than enough.”

 Jack shook his head. “No. Obviously you are in no shape to cook, so I will. I can bring the kids over.”

 Abraham smiled. He looked beyond appreciative, and if he could hug Jack, he would have. Willie was still in his arms.

 “Thank you. So, so much.”

 “You’re more than welcome.”

 -

 Jack drove them home—but on the way he drove to his own house to get Caroline and Patrick. Caroline was beyond confused, if a bit concerned, as to why her father took so long. When he explained—gory details aside and not mentioned—she understood entirely. They were taken to Abraham’s house and all five of them came in, soaking wet, and Abraham changed his blood-soaked and blood-crusted clothes before the rest of his kids asked.

 Jack was fairly awkward around the rest of his kids. “So… I know… it… took a while for us to get home, but we’re here now, so…” he cleared his throat as Robert stared.

 “This isn’t your home.” He mumbled. “And I thank you for helping my brother but after you make dinner, I don’t want you to just move in suddenly.”

 “No!” Jack exclaimed suddenly, shaking his head, “No, of course not, I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t intrude. Just… he’s really stressed so I figured I would.”

 Robert sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I can see it in his eyes. You can’t tell, but he’s more than stressed. He went up the stairs like a zombie; ready to collapse at any given moment. He’s like this so often I forgot it isn’t normal. Just don’t… don’t hurt him, okay? I care about him.”

 Jack swallowed. He nodded firmly. “I wouldn’t hurt him even if it’d kill me. Because hurting your father is worse than any death I could ever suffer.”

 Abraham changed—smelling much better and not of depression—and Jack made spaghetti with sauce, asparagus, and shrimp. It was complex, and took a while to make, but by the end the younger children were eating what they could and Abraham and Jack were talking. The atmosphere was still tense. Willie had to sit a certain way. So, as they had just went through a crisis earlier, they all talked pretty softly and quietly. If anything was too loud Abraham flinched. John stuck by Willie’s side the entire time, helping him get stuff from across the table. Too much stretching put stress on the injured boy’s leg.

 By the end of the night, as Jack got his tired out and entirely asleep kids into the car, he said to Abraham while the street lamp shined down on them, “I’m here if you need anything, all right? After today’s scare, I can’t imagine leaving you. You said yourself you can’t lose anyone else.”

 Abraham swallowed. “Yeah. Thank you, again, Jack.”

 Jack smiled softly. “You’re welcome.” They hugged, and if both lingered into it for longer than strictly friend-wise, that was their business.

 He barely felt like driving as he himself was drained, from emotions running wild to crying to cooking a meal, but he drove and got the kids in bed before taking a nice shower and almost collapsing on his bed. He had only gotten his boxers on with a white button-up that had half the buttons done, but he lazily plugged in his phone, and within the next twenty seconds, he was dead asleep.

 If his dreams turned to gore and blood and Willie dying, then Abraham’s smile, and him holding the boy like he hung the stars appeared, and it all went away.

Chapter Text

 It had been only three-ish days since Willie’s terrifying fall, and Jack could barely calm John’s nerves down. Every day he asked to go over and see Willie. As much as Jack wanted to himself, he had to say no. They’d wait until Monday. When Jackie came over to pick the kids up she was filled in on everything and was especially worried for Abraham. Seemingly, she sympathized with more than his son getting hurt. It was as if she knew something he didn’t.

 “Just make sure he’s eating and that he’s sleeping, all right?” she had said, and when he nodded, they stared at each other for a minute before she hugged him and went out of the door.

 Finally, Jack managed to get the guts to text Abraham.

Jack

Hey. How’s Will? if he’s good we could come over.

Abraham responded instantly.

Soulheart

He’s… better than he was at first. But please come over. Willie will enjoy John’s company and Eddie and Caroline were getting along. Patrick and Tad like each other already.

Jack

Got it. coming over soon.

Below, he posted a dark humor meme, and got a laughing emoji in response. His self-satisfied grin appeared as soon as he saw the emoji. He put his phone into his pocket and watched John eat his trail mix while Caroline took a bite of her sandwich. They had enough time to eat while Jack had enough time to get his hair right and have coffee. He definitely needed it. Especially since even during his dreams, a voice nagged, He got hurt under your watch. and he decided to ignore it.

 Besides, as long as Abraham was doing good, and as long as they’d see each other, that was fine. It was all fine.

 “Y’ ever think about why raisins are called raisins? Like, why aren’t they called… dried grapes?” John mumbled, popping an almond into his mouth. Jack smiled.

 “That’s not exactly as interesting as raisins.”

 “Yeah, but what does ‘Raisins’ mean? Was it raised? Where was it raised?”

 “In the ground,” Caroline answered, swallowing her sandwich and gently batting away Patrick’s small fingers from her sandwich.

 “Why? They don’t come from trees?”

 “Just eat your trail mix, John.” Jack interfered before it could become an hour-long debate spanning the house to the car, the car to the house, and the house to bed. That’d happen when the subject of Legos and Lego houses was brought up. He spent six hours of his day listening to them debate whether it was illegal for Lego people to live in Lego houses, and what it must’ve looked like in their perspective to be surrounded by the same material their technical skin is made out of.

 John had another handful. “I’m right, Papa.”

 “Sure, Johnny.”

-

 They drove to Caroline’s school and then John’s, the little boy kicking his feet back and forth to get rid of some of his energy. By what he had told his father, he and Quentin were going to build a big sandcastle, and get Jack to take a photo to send to their principal. If Willie couldn’t help build it, then he could see it and imagine helping. It was nice of them but when John elaborated it was their war castle in case they had to defend Princess Papa, Jack almost started sobbing out of embarrassment as the flush ran up his neck and to his cheeks. He forgot about that part of the day—the only thing he could recall was staring at Abraham.

 It didn’t take too long for John to get his backpack and hurry out of the car, running up to Quentin who excitedly dragged him over to apparently meet his older sister. Jack couldn’t help but watch them. He didn’t—he didn’t want it to happen again. Not to any of the kids. He could just stay right here and take a few minutes. Patrick was happily asleep in the back of the car. It wouldn’t be hard.

 At least that’s what he wanted to do. He pulled out and away from the school, When he looked in the back from the rearview mirror, Patrick was still asleep, and he wanted to be that peaceful for just a moment or two. Maybe three. To sleep well and happily without a care in the world, as if you have nothing else to do except eat and sleep. You get away with throwing tantrums too. Nobody can fault you for anything. Jack wanted to be that way, wanted to at least have a bit of carefree nature in his life without worrying about it crashing down. He worked hard to get where he was; so many assholes in high school and college, so many jobs being lost, the court barely believing that Jackie really wanted to civilly work it out. He worked so fucking hard and nobody and nothing was going to take it away from him.

 He turned the radio on low. Low enough to not wake Patrick but loud enough he could hear it. Chiquitita by ABBA was the first song to play, and he let it.

 Jack put Patrick into his daycare and when he spotted Polk, he waved, and got a smile and wave back. The guy was taking care of a few sleeping toddlers so any loud noise would result in a screaming fit.

 He pulled out his phone to text Abraham, considering he had nothing else to do besides sit in his car.

 Jack

What’re you doing??

Soulheart

Sitting at home playing connect-four with Eddie, lol. Wbu?

Jack

Just dropped Patrick off. Who’d you put into your spot for the day?

Soulheart

Ulysses. He likes it, it gives him something to do, and I trust him entirely. Mr. Adams volunteered but he got an email saying his son Charles punched a kid in the nose for talking bad about his sister, so he couldn’t.

Jack

Damn. Makes sense. How’s Ulysses btw?

Soulheart

Oh he’s good!! He’s beyond proud of Jesse for getting high marks on his essays. I think he enjoys the job partially because he gets to monitor his kid, too.

Jack

Lol understandable. Want more dark memes to pass the time?

Soulheart

I may not respond bc, yknow, connect-four, but I surely do. Gimme your best :)

Jack smiled softly, the little emoji making his heart flutter. He really was in love—this was fresh. He hadn’t been in love since Jackie. Jackie, who was now his closest friend. Jackie, whom he once wanted to spend his entire life with. Part of him still liked her but understood it was over. But now? Now, Abraham was the one who hung his stars and his moon. No, scratch that. Abraham hung the entire solar system over Jack’s head and all he could do was let the man so effortlessly.

 He sent a bunch of dark humor memes and jokes to Abraham, along with one or two short video clips. As he ran out of them he began to find cool space memes and sent those too. Then, in the depths of his camera roll, he found a ton of screenshots of NASA articles. He sent those as well and got a few interesting responses, ones that he immediately typed back three paragraphs to each.

 Call it nerdy, but he really liked space and NASA. The idea of going to space—to somewhere they’d never been—was infective to him. He spent hours upon hours looking up articles and watching documentaries. He even bought clothes for both himself and the kids. The Space Race was one of his favorite things to do research on when he went on a space-bender. It was so interesting. Two different powers, competing against one another, during a goddamn war. It was one of the things he planned to show the kids when they were older. For now, he could get children’s books on NASA and space and the planets.

 He was sent a photo of Eddie clapping happily as he one, and a short clip of Eddie hugging his father’s neck and kissing his cheek, with Abraham’s laugh coming right after and the video abruptly ending. He sent back ‘awww!’ with a heart emoji.

 It didn’t take long for Caroline to come back from school right after he got off of work, talking about her friend Patsy and her friend Tricia, and how they made a really cool painting together in art class. It was apparently teamwork day and the teacher—a man named Mr. Schrank—put them into trios. They decided on an abstract-looking cat that Tricia named Checkers, after her dog back home. They spent the rest of their free time in class talking about their pets. When Caroline was asked what pets she had, she said, “None.”

 So Caroline instantly began to passively bring up getting a pet. “You know, Papa, you work at a shelter.”

 “Mhm.”

 “And shelters have a bunch of doggies and kitties who need homes.”

 “Mhm.”

 “And you’d be doing a really good thing to adopt one. Tricia said her dog was very friendly to her and her sister so it’d also be good for kids to have a compan-i-on.” Caroline said matter-of-fact-ly, leaning across the car slightly to bring her voice closer to her father’s ear.

 Jack chuckled as a smile made its way onto his face. He knew exactly what she was doing, he’d tried it before himself. “You want us to adopt a dog don’t you?”

 “Well I didn’t say that, but,” Caroline paused, biting her lip, “maybe.”

 “We can adopt one when I have more free time and when you guys grow up. I can’t take care of a dog affectionately by leaving it home for hours at a time.” And even longer when I go to see Abraham. was added subconsciously in his mind. Caroline leaned back into her seat and sighed.

 “But Papa, we’d be doing a good deed! It’d keep John distracted as I watched my ‘girly’ movies as he puts it!”

 Jack chuckled. He could imagine his son’s face when he revealed that he bought the Barbie movies for himself and Caroline found them. “We wouldn’t have time. I’d love to get a dog too, honey, don’t get me wrong. I love pets. But I can’t right now. Maybe when you’re older you can get one for yourself?”

 “When?”

 “You’re eighteen is when.”

 Caroline pouted dramatically. “That’s in ten years!”

 “I know.”

  John came back not too long after, a smile bright on his face. He looked like he was beaming with energy. “Papa! We made our sandcastle!”

 Jack laughed. “Oh yeah? Let me see it then.” They got out of the car—Caroline following—and there it was. Big and strong. Not strong, really, but… it was just a sandcastle that looked like one from the movies. Quentin had his hands on his hips with a proud grin and an older but still young girl was by his side, hands behind her back with her hair in a bow pulled out of her face, watching her brother contently.

 “Ethel said it looked amazing!” Quentin exclaimed. But due to how young he was, it sounded as if he said ‘Effel’ instead of ‘Ethel’.

 “Did she? It does, after all.” Jack bent down and took a photo with his phone, making sure it was a good picture before sending it to Abraham with a, ‘For Willie.’ attached. Not too soon after did he get a text from Abraham with a photo of Willie, grinning wide, a thumbs up the obvious way of being able to tell he found it spectacular. Abraham was in shot too, grinning with his own massive thumbs up.

 “They like the sandcastle,” Jack said. Quentin and John both cheered out and hugged each other. The girl only watched with a small smile.

 “Are you the Mr. Kennedy I’ve heard about?”

 “Yes I am.”

 “Thank you for giving my brothers a friend. Archie needs all of the good news with his pain.”

 Jack nodded. “You are very welcome, little lady.”

 “Ethel, darling!”

 Ethel turned to shout to someone in the distance. “Coming, Mama!” she hurriedly said an apology before poking her brother on the shoulder, who hugged John once more before allowing himself to be taken away by Ethel.

 John hurried back into the car and Jack slipped inside, Caroline crawling in. Patrick would have to be in between them when he was picked up.

 “Are you two ready to see Willie today?”

 John broke out with the loudest cheer ever.

-

 It was a fairly quick drive from the school to the daycare to pick up Patrick, who was instantly hugging his father like a small little octopus. He was getting bigger as his birthday approached. Jackie apparently already had the onesie ordered and it was in the process of being handmade. That must’ve been why it was so expensive—and because the fabric was also from Europe and picked from thousands of other bits of fabric. Something about the durability being 0.1% higher than the others, or something.

 He could see little water droplets hit the windshield but presumed it would be fine. A little sprinkle of rain was fine. The kids were busy talking to one another in the backseat quietly due to Patrick being tired, but Jack would have to tell them to be quiet every so often. The radio changed from ABBA to Blank Space by Taylor Swift, and John had a very hard time containing his excitement. Whenever the song came on, John was quick to begin screaming the lyrics, but because of the fact his brother was in the car he couldn’t. Any other time or circumstance and he’d start screeching at the top of his lungs and encouraging Caroline and his father to join. But instead he opted to happily stim quite quickly with his fidget dice. The small clicks of the toy filled the car for a while.

 Until Caroline brought up getting a dog to John, who instantly started asking about it to Jack. Now he had two little cute devils whispering in his ear about dogs. But John had his own reasons, too, like Caroline did with Tricia; most of his friends had crazy pets. Willie had told him that he and his dad went to cat shelters to feed the cats and give them love and donate to dog shelters when they could. Quentin’s parents owned a fucking zoo—a bear cub and parrots and a bunch of dogs, not to mention a fucking pig and pony and snake—and Mr. Coolidge, an assistant who was actually a politician that came down to help teach frequently, owned a raccoon named Rebecca. So why shouldn’t they join the club and own a dog?

 Jack’s only response was, “…You’re going to start with a dog and end with a pet pony aren’t you.”

 “…Maybe.”

 “No.”

 They made the drive to Abraham’s house and the water droplets got more consistent, but Jack brushed it off and got the kids out of the car. Patrick was enamored by the water droplets. He reached his tiny palms out to feel it and laughed adorably when it hit his stubby arms. His eyes shined with bright enthusiastic joy. Jack carried his boy with his own smile, John hung onto his finger and Caroline walked by herself.

 They rung the doorbell and Abraham appeared not too soon after,  in a sky button-up with the top undone, a watch on his wrist, and a big smile. His hair was messy. “Hey.”

 “Hey.” Jack’s smile grew. John and Caroline filed in, John immediately going upstairs to see Willie, and Caroline walking over to see Eddie. Patrick looked particularly happy at the sight of Abraham and Jack didn’t understand why.

 “I tried to cook but uh… didn’t really succeed.” Abraham scratched the back of his neck, the smell of burnt spaghetti filling Jack’s nose while he put Patrick on the floor to crawl around as he pleased. There was nothing dangerous within reach or nothing unstable enough to fall on his baby. Jack laughed and gave his friend a side hug.

 “It’s fine, I get it. Want me to cook?”

 “Oh, no, I can’t—”

 “No, trust me. I can do it.” Jack approached the kitchen and leaned against the counter, smirking playfully. Abraham watched him with a certain look that he couldn’t decode.

 “Only if you want to. I can order something if you don’t.” Abraham pulled his phone out but mid-way Jack shook his head and grabbed a pot from the counter, all of the burnt spaghetti practically scraped off, as if it was a battle between Abraham’s test of strength and the strength of burnt shit sticking to a pot.

 “I enjoy making food, Abraham. Besides, the kids would probably want chicken with a side of apple slices and milk. I know it sounds weird, but it covers most of the base nutrients, doesn’t it?”

 Abraham chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

 Jack made food as he and Abraham conversed. The kids were preoccupied together, and the faint laughs of Willie and John upstairs was a reminder that everything was… mostly okay. But at some point, Abraham tiredly sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch in the middle of the living room. “I still feel guilty about what happened. I should’ve been looking. I should’ve been… I should’ve been paying attention instead of looking at… something else.” He said.

 “Hey,” Jack started, “it’s not your fault. Mary said so and I can imagine your friends said so too. I’m saying that now.” but even he felt a bit of guilt.

 “But we should’ve been—” He stopped, before adding, “Have you ever felt this guilty before Jack?”

 “I deal with the guilt of not being good enough for heaven every single damn day. I wonder if I’m good enough. I wonder if me liking men will permanently bring me to the deepest pit of hell.” Jack said blankly, making eye contact with Abraham. “I used to fucking hate myself for it and goddamn pray every night on my knees. But you know what, Abraham? I got past it. I can stand that. I know that no matter what, I tried my hardest. And that’s what counts.” He aimed the spoon at the other man. “You tried your best. You got your boy safe and you’ve been taking care of him. You tried to stop the bleeding. So stop. You can do it. If you need therapy, professionally, get it. If you need a friend to confide in, I’m right here, and everyone else is as well.”

 …

 “Thanks, Jack.”

 Jack smiled softly. Lovingly. “No problem. In the meantime,” he put the spoon down. “why not tell me the kids’ favorite type of seasoning for chicken?”

 Abraham smiled again. It was… good to see. “Willie likes some. Eddie doesn’t like any. Robert adds whatever he adds. If you give Tad a little bit, don’t add any.”

 Jack grabbed a few seasonings from the cupboards above. “Good.” He looked outside and saw it rained even harder. “It’s raining pretty hard; we may need to stay until it dies down. The weather and the darkness won’t go well together.”

 He could hear Abraham shuffling to get up and look out the window with him, but he put an arm half-around Jack’s shoulder above the apron, which immediately sent hot sparks up his spine and through his cheeks. “You’re right—hopefully it dies down soon, I’d hate for you guys to get stuck.” He didn’t even seem to notice he put an arm around Jack until he looked down and pulled away with an awkward laugh.

 “Sorry.”

 “No it’s fine, it’s…” Jack swallowed. “I didn’t mind. If your hand is comfortable there then that’s fine.”

 Abraham looked especially pink. “All right. Cool.”

 They heard the kids upstairs and both shared a smile before going upstairs.

 John was holding Willie’s hands and helping him stand, scar present to the world, looking slightly healed. They were dancing it seemed. “C’mon, you can do it! Just one step Will!” John cheered, holding onto his best friend tightly. He loved to encourage people but encouraging Willie to do something bold was the best thing.

 Willie hesitated before taking a large step forward, Johnny’s loud excited cheer being the indication he did it just right, and he giggled. “I did it!”

 “I know you did!” John spun them around in a circle but carefully—he wouldn’t want to hurt his best friend’s leg.

 Abraham looked over at Jack. “John’s good for Willie, y’know. I can imagine they’ll be even happier when Willie can run again.” And then, ever so hesitantly, hell, shyly, he put a strong arm around Jack again, pulling in slightly. Jack did the last step and leaned his head against Abraham. He was soft, and firm, something to rely on. He loved this. Part of him thought, and whispered, This is what it’ll be like when you’re married. Watching your kids. and for the first time, he didn’t push that thought away. The two happy, in-love parents watching their kids from the doorway without their knowledge, comfortable in knowing their kids are safe.

 Maybe he could accept that as a possibility.

 Maybe he had a chance.

 No.

 He did have a chance. He knew it.

 It didn’t take too long for the food to be done and all of the children—all six that could eat—were eager and hungry. Patrick had soft apple mush and milk. The bigger kids had chicken. Tad got a few very small pieces of chicken, enjoying it from how he seemed to want more. Jack happily gave him more from his own plate, but didn’t notice Abraham watching him act like a parent with a certain gleam of admiration and love in his eyes.

 “I’m—” John swallowed his chicken—“—super glad you liked our sandcastle, Willie. Quentin worked really hard on the pillars.”

 “I know! I wish I could’ve helped.”

 “Next time you can! I promise. Quent will do the pillars and ar-ck-i-techt-ure, and I can do the walls, and you can make the windows and doors!”

 Willie giggled. “Yeah! It’ll be the best castle ever and we’ll be the best empire ever! Even better than Kermit’s and Robert’s!” he said. It took Jack a minute to remember he meant Robert Taft instead of the Robert at the table. Basically, John explained in the car a week ago, that Kermit, Quentin’s second eldest brother, and Robert Taft, the eldest brother of Charlie, both decided to play along and make their own sandcastles when they every so often came along with their parents to pick up their siblings. They usually made them a bit quicker but the younger kids put in so much effort that it was adorable. And besides, if the older kids got enjoyment out of entertaining the younger kids, then it was a win for everyone involved.

 They finished eating and Abraham cleaned part of their plates while Robert did the rest. Jack looked outside and to his disappointment, it was raining even harder outside. It was practically storming, and the rumble he heard not too far off indicated it’d get worse. He backed up from the window. “It’s gotten worse.”

 “Stay the night then. It’s too harsh to drive.” Abraham spoke up, looking away from the sink as he turned off the tap.

 Jack shook his head, “No, I don’t want to intrude on your night. That’s just—”

 “Reasonable and just and fine. It’s raining high hell out there, Jack, and it’s too dangerous to drive for you and the kids. All three, Caroline, John, and Patrick, have been having a blast. Why not?”

 Jack weighed over the decision in his head. Realistically, Abraham was beyond right. It was dark and it was dangerous. The rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. But intrusively, he was not, and Jack could withstand a car crash. But the kids couldn’t. The kids were the deciding factor. John was having fun, Caroline seemed to be, and Patrick was definitely enjoying Tad’s company. He took a deep breath once he made up his mind and chose what he’d do.

 “We’ll stay for the night. I can sleep on the couch.” It’d hurt his back, but Abraham was offering shelter. It was the least he could do for such a trade.

 But the taller man shook his head. “I remember what you said about back pain. You can take my bed. The couch is fine for me.”

 “No, this is your house.”

 “You’re a guest.”

 “You’re the owner.”

 “I offered.”

 “…Damn It, you’re right,” Jack mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “What about the kids?”

 “I think they’d be more than happy to all collect into William’s room. Patrick… we can set something up. I may have some of Tad’s or Willie’s baby stuff in the basement.” Abraham said, smiling, obviously pleased Jack decided to stay the night and choose the bed. “Let me get it.” he went towards the basement without allowing any further comment from Jack, who watched him go before looking down.

 Abraham really was a good person. He liked that about the man—liked how he always looked for the best in people and always considered others. Jack… needed that. He needed someone who he could rely on even if just a bit.

 Abraham found an old but usable crib and they’d use some throw-over blankets for padding. He found a full-sized pillow and used that as padding for Patrick’s entire body. They lined the sides with a few old but thick hoodies and sweaters he found, too. It wasn’t the best but once Jack looked over every square inch, it was baby-proofed, and good enough for the night. They set it up in the corner of Abraham’s bedroom, which was clean and pretty, something Jack admired.

 When the kids were put to bed and they both stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, Abraham spoke first. “I sleep in a t-shirt and boxers. If you want me to wear pants I can—”

 “It’s fine. I sleep in whatever pants or shorts I put on, I take my shirt off.”

 …

 “That’s fine.” Abraham nodded and walked over to the big closet, opened it, grabbed a t-shirt, and pointed to the bathroom with his thumb. “I’ll change in the bathroom.” He walked into said room and Jack let out a deep breath once he was gone. This would be very, very awkward. But the excuse to have Abraham next to him… it was too good. It was too much for him to really believe. Would Abraham find it weird? He hoped to everything in the world that the man wouldn’t.

 He took off his top and folded it nicely on the floor. It may’ve been the floor, but he’d still fold it. He debated on taking off his belt before deciding fuck it and leaving his khakis securely on because of it. He ran another hand through his hair and a few pieces fell in front of his face. He would only hope the mattress was stiff enough but soft enough for his back—he had to get the damn mattress custom-made because every other mattress was too stiff or too soft or just downright uncomfortable.

 Abraham came out with a big white t-shirt (that was definitely oversized) covering himself, and striped black-and-white socks all the way up. He looked tired. He must’ve washed his face and brushed his hair, because it looked soft, a bit messy, and heavenly to touch. Jack wanted to touch his hair, maybe run a hand through it.

 “I’ve shared beds with male friends before, so don’t worry about me being uncomfortable. Are you?” Abraham said, getting on the bed.

 Jack shook his head. He was nervous, but his heart was pounding because he was going to be in the same bed with Abraham. He was far more comfortable than he should have been. “No, I’m not. I just don’t do that often and I haven’t shared a bed with someone in a while.”

 “That’s all right. I get it. We can keep distance if that’s what you’d prefer?” Abraham offered, scooting down and getting comfortable. “I don’t think I’ll use the blanket so you can if you want.”

 Jack chuckled. “No. I may tangle myself into it.” he climbed onto the bed and it felt good. It wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t too soft. It wasn’t perfect but it was damn close to being perfect. “I’ll just put it across my legs.” He grabbed the fluffy dark blue blanket and put it over his legs, stopping right at his thighs. He laid down onto the pillow and turned his head over to Abraham, who was staring right back at him.

 “I’m glad we’re close enough that we can share a bed. It’d be awkward if we weren’t.”

 Jack smiled. “Yeah. I will admit, I’m glad you’re fine with sharing beds with guys. I’ve met far too many toxic masculinity men.”

 Abraham laughed quietly and turned off the light while the storm raged on outside, the window’s sounding like static from how much rain was hitting the glass. “True, I can relate to that. Goodnight, Jack.” then he added, “It feels weird to say that in person than across text.”

 Jack grabbed his phone from the bedside table. “Then let’s say it across text, too.”

 Abraham grabbed his phone as well with a small giggle. “Okay.”

Jack

Goodnight, Abraham. :)

Jack heard the ping from Abraham’s phone. Abraham’s fingers moved swiftly and it was but a second before Jack got the ping himself and the popup at the top.

Soulheart

Goodnight, Jack. :)

They put their phones away and turned them off before looking at each other and laughing. It was small, and it was stupid, but it was their thing. It was dark as hell so they could barely see one another, but Abraham’s brown eyes were still ever so handsome.

 "Your smile is an antidepressant. You know that, Abraham?"

 Abraham smiled, if just to deepen the truth of that statement. "Thank you, Jack. Yours is as well."

 "Thanks." He was glad it was dark. Otherwise, his own bright, beaming smile would be seen, and his pink cheeks would be evident.

 When Jack fell asleep, he felt more comfortable than he had in years.

-

 He woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs.

 Jack got up, put his shirt on (still neatly folded on the floor), and lightly detangled his hair with his fingers and put on shoes before walking downstairs. Abraham was singing along to some random song on the radio as the kids laughed. Patrick was sitting on the floor with Eddie. The kids were happy, he was happy, and Abraham was happy.

 “So, what’s cooking, good looking?” he joked when Abraham noticed him. Abraham threw his head back and laughed. If his cheeks were red, Jack didn’t even notice.

 “Bacon and eggs. Now sit.”

 The domesticity of the morning, the calm, family atmosphere with the sun lightly beaming in through the windows, was enough to get Jack to sit down. He could get used to this. Waking up to the sound of laughter and the sight of Abraham.

 “I’m glad the storm went away, Papa,” John said, kicking his feet.

 “I am too, Johnny. Now we can actually go outside.” Jack replied, ruffling the boy’s hair, in turn getting a laugh from him.

 “Papa!”

 “Sorry, sorry,” Jack said. But he smiled, already enjoying this morning far more than the others. It was only ten minutes later that he was served coffee and sizzling bacon with eggs.

 “I don’t know how you like them so I just made them normally,” Abraham explained, sipping at his coffee.

 Jack shook his head and got some of it onto his fork. “It’s fine, I don’t have a preference.” Then he put it into his mouth and goddamn it was actually really good.

 He got the kids ready as best as he could and they filed into the car, Abraham’s empty still, as he took a break from work to watch his son. So Jack leaned out of the window and, while Abraham stood there, making sure he got in fine, said, “Thanks for the food and the shelter, Abraham. Really.”

 Abraham crossed his arms and smiled. “It’s absolutely nothing—it’s what friends do, after all.”

 “Yeah. It is.” Then Jack leaned out—he didn’t have his pills so it hurt like a bitch—and kissed Abraham on the cheek. “Since you kissed me on the cheek before, I get to as well.” He added. Abraham looked positively redder than a strawberry.

 “That—that’s fair. Have a good day, Jack.”

 “You too, Abraham.”

 Jack drove off, and if his heart was still pounding, then that was that.

-

 When the day was over and he had picked up the kids, they ate dinner fairly early, and now sat on the couch together. The kids weren’t exactly tired. Patrick was just glad to join in and sit on his father’s chest, baby arms wrapped around him. “I really like Mr. Abraham, Papa,” John mumbled. He leaned against his father’s leg. Jack was horizontally laying down so Caroline had her head on his stomach, and John was on his leg. It was a weird position and was definitely going to get uncomfortable, but for now, it was fine.

 Jack tiredly replied, “I like Mr. Abraham too, John.”

 John giggled. “I know you do. You love him.”

 Jack closed his eyes and let out a short laugh.

 “Yeah, maybe I do love Mr. Abraham, Johnny. Maybe I do.”

 ‘Maybe’ wasn’t the right word. Because Jack knew he loved him.

-

Jack

Goodnight, Abraham. :)

Soulheart

Goodnight, Jack. :)

Chapter Text

 Abraham didn’t wake up feeling as empty.

 Instead, he rolled over with just a pit in his stomach, and opened up his phone to say good morning to Jack.

 Abraham

Good morning, Jack. :)

 He closed his contacts and shut his phone off. As much as he could use it, it didn’t fascinate him like it did some. Or it did Robert, for that matter. He took a few minutes to think of just how… different. Everything was. He practically cut off love after Mary and cut off closer friendships than what felt comfortable. His job was partially working and the other spacing out and realizing he pressed a pen into paper for thirty minutes. He did however enjoy working with the children. It was always fun to see what they came up with in class or on the playground.

 The few times he had to call parents, the kids mainly behaved. Well—at least he thought. Because when he had to call in John Jr. and Willie after John punched a kid, he also had to bring in another kid as well once John began to tell his story, and called John’s parent, he ended up meeting an amazing man.

 Jack was… something. He was handsome and charismatic and enigmatic, beautiful eyes and even more beautiful hair, but behind that was a nice guy who just wanted to get by and live. Who just wanted to have a good day. He definitely would commit manslaughter for his children and that was one of the first things Abraham noticed past everything else. Of course Abraham noticed Jack’s face and his hair and his damn eyes, of course he did, how couldn’t he, but when he got to know Jack… it all paled in comparison.

 Jack had a good sense of humor and integrity. That was attractive. Very. Through all of the lies and betrayal and hurt Abraham had gone through—the thought stirred up a hard feeling in his gut—it was refreshing to find a man who was honest. Who wouldn’t use him, or lie to him. Keep him along on a thin string just to cut it when they reach their goal. That was something he was very tired of. But Jack, good old reliable Jack, always burst through that barrier around Abraham’s heart and put the good in good.

 Abraham would’ve reflected on it more if he had time. But instead, he heard a firm knock on his door, and Robert’s muffled voice saying, “Quit thinking about your boyfriend and get out here. Willie had a dream and wants to tell you about it.”

 Scrambling, Abraham got out of bed and put on pants, a definite warmth spreading across his cheeks. “He is not my boyfriend, Robert!” he shouted. He fixed his hair and put on deodorant with a short glance in the mirror to see when he’d have to shave. Not soon but in about a week or so. With his appearance… presentable and his just-woke-up exhaustion gone Abraham opened the door and heard the loud voices of his son’s downstairs.

 “When’s Papa gon’ come down?”

 “Soon, Will, don’t even worry. In fact, I heard his door open.” And Robert was definitely smirking.

 Willie cheered. Obviously, Rob had also gotten him out of bed and carried him downstairs.

 Their father paused at the top of the stairs. He didn’t know why. But hearing them so happy and energetic, it relieved him to no end. His kids were happy. Even if Willie’s leg was in less-than-all-right condition, even if Abraham wasn’t always stable, even if everything goddamn collapsed on them, his kids being happy was all that mattered.

 So he went downstairs.

 Willie was full of energy and sitting at the table, wearing a red t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. He had a fidgeting bracelet on his right wrist. The boy hadn’t grown out of the mess-with-everything phase yet, so he had to have a toy on him most times. It was well-used but held up (it was damn expensive, so he hoped so.).

 Robert had on his basic outfit; unbuttoned flannel over a t-shirt, ripped-up jeans, and old Converse. If he was going through his emo phase then nobody needed to know.

 Eddie and Tad seemed to match. Green frog t-shirt, khaki shorts, and the exact same white tube socks with green stripes. Even if the shoes deviated, most of it was the same. They matched outfits so often that it wasn’t uncommon to see it. Or for them to request the same shirt or sweater in different sizes.

 “Good morning, you four,” Abraham announced. Willie snapped his head to his father and grinned, barely able to contain himself. Tad waved and Robert and Eddie both nodded in acknowledgement.

 “Papa! I have so much to tell you,” Willie said, playing with his spoon as if it was a drum. He was bouncing in his seat.

 “And that is?” Abraham ruffled the boy’s hair when he approached and turned around to grab the coffee pot. His special mug sat right next to it. On the first anniversary of his and Mary’s marriage that was spent divorced, all of his actual friends pitched in, collected money, and with Robert’s then ten-year-old idea, he pitched in two dollars as well. They got him a mug in dark blue that said, Best Godd#mn Dad Ever. It had to be censored for the kid’s eyes. (If he cried as soon as he saw it then that was never being discussed.)

 Willie took a bite of his waffles before answering. “So—so my dream was I was stuck in this big mansion, big and purple and old, and, I went down th’ hall and John was there!” he made a wide gesture. “So we—uh, had to escape together I think, and…” he paused. “Well. I know we escaped. And Mr. Jack was there.”

 Abraham’s hold on the mug almost faltered. “He was?”

 And he could feel Robert’s stare on him.

 “Yeah! He was a bear, though,” Willie sipped on his milk. Abraham… absolutely did not understand that at all. A bear? Why? “and he helped us escape. I think.”

 “That…” Abraham mixed the coffee with a cocoa packet. “…is great, Willie. Really interesting.”

 “I dreamed of a mushroom ruling over the entire country and causing anar... an… anar-key,” Eddie commented, picking off a strawberry from Robert’s pancake. Robert looked gobsmacked at his brother.

 Abraham finished mixing his coffee and took a sip. Just right, delicious even. “That’s an interesting dream, too. You two boys have really crazy imaginations.” He sat down and took an apple from the fruit basket in the middle. “Speaking of, how’s your creative essay been, Rob?” he made complete, dead eye contact with his eldest son, who stopped mid-bite to just chew slowly.

 “Touché, father.”

With Robert’s slow intake of his pancake, that was what made Abraham laugh, and this was good. This—this happiness and domestic life and actual care—was good. It was a safe haven from the hells the world could bring. Whether it be betrayal, lies, or just general sadness, Abraham knew that his boys were waiting when he came home. His boys were there and they cared. They really cared. Willie was safe now—he wasn’t quick enough and the blood and—and after Robert calmed down from an incoming panic attack, they rested, all five curled up on the little bed. Sure, his back hurt like hell the next day and his spine felt even worse, but to be there for his kids was worth it.

 They continued eating and the kids got their backpacks for school. Eddie’s, a Spiderman backpack, Tad’s, a princess one (he wanted it and Abraham found it adorable), Willie’s, red with a blue keychain from Quentin and a NASA sticker from John, and Robert’s, a plain black one save for the Panic! At The Disco sticker smack dab in the middle.

 “Are you sure you’re going to be all right walking for a little bit?” Abraham asked Willie when they were right in front of the door. He wanted to be sure his boy would be fine. That was top priority and just about everything mattered twice as less. His boys were his biggest priority.

 Willie sighed dramatically. “Yes, Papa. And I have John and Quentin and Charlie and Mr. Grant to make sure I don’t fall over.”

 Abraham put a hand on his boy’s head, sighing, “All right. Let’s go.”

 They both walked out of the house and the other three both waited inside of the car, Eddie looking to be swinging his legs and Robert on his phone. To be on time for all four schools, Abraham had to get up at five, and so did the kids. One was on the other side of town, the other was next to being on the other side, Tad was fine in the daycare that he swore Jack brought his baby to, and Willie, of course, went to the exact same school that Abraham worked at.

 “I can’t wait to see John!” Willie exclaimed, hopping into his seat while Abraham strapped him in and closed the car door. The man slid into the driver’s seat, turned on the engine, and heard it spring to life—well, rumble to life.

 “I know. Do you have any friends, Robert?” Abraham said, checking the mirror and sending a quick glance to his eldest son and beginning to drive. Robert slumped further into his seat out of embarrassment.

 “Yes, Dad,” Robert said. He looked out the window with a distanced expression, obviously beginning to pay more attention to his thoughts and the trees than just about anything else. But that was fine. That was how he worked, and if it was how he worked, then it was perfectly fine. As much as it was better when he made an effort to converse, Abraham knew the boy was just stressed by his tests and essays. And maybe he did have a friend or two; maybe a crush, who knew? He certainly didn’t expand on his love life ever. Unlike his father, who sobbed at Titanic the first three times, and could barely handle a sad romance without thinking ‘Oh… how relatable.’ and bursting into tears.

 “I’m glad,” Abraham turned right, “you kids are getting older—yes, including you, Tad—and need to start socializing. I don’t want your mother to think you’re all hermits when she comes to visit for Christmas.”

 Robert shuffled in his seat when he heard the mention of his mother. “Does she have to?”

 Abraham’s eyebrows furrowed. “I—what?”

 “I mean,” he paused, “does she have to come over every year?”

 “Wh—yes, what is this about?”

 “I’m just…” Robert shrugged helplessly. “I don’t want… I might bring…”

 “Do you have a girlfriend, or something, and you’re worried about how—”

 “No!” Robert jumped up in his seat. “No, no—I don’t—” he stammered, which was a clear sign that yes, he did, “—I just… I love her visits, I do, she’s my ma and all, but… what about Jack, huh?”

 Abraham didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t want to admit his boy had a point. What about Jack? Would Jack be upset he was friendly with his ex, or would he not like her, or would he even get jealous? He didn’t handle jealousy well. He didn’t know how to articulate around it. It was almost as bad as possessiveness. “He—Jack already knows about her, and I am sure he wouldn’t mind,” he decided on, stopping at a stop light and taking a deep breath. “If he does, then that’s what we will discuss in further detail, between me and him, not me and you.”

 Truth be told, he’d thought this over. Most people didn’t want their lover to be friendly with their ex. Granted, his friends had told him to press charges, and it was still somewhat awkwardly strained between the two, but he didn’t hate her. Even if he should have. Even if he was in the entire right to hate her, or press charges, or—but he didn’t. He didn’t, and maybe he regretted that.

 Robert slumped back into his seat again. “Fine.”

 The car ride was silent except for Willie and Eddie talking.

 When they managed to get to Robert’s school, he instantly enforced the ‘kiss-on-the-cheek’ and ‘I-love-you’ rule, which Robert begrudgingly followed, and Eddie waved bye with his face smushed into the glass. He left a foggy print in the glass. And as embarrassing as it may’ve been for Robert, he still smiled and waved bye to his brother. So obviously he still enjoyed it and that was what counted. Robert—even if he denied liking the itchy Christmas sweaters and carols and cliché movies—even if he denied enjoying the big bear hugs and the comfort plushies pulled out of the closet when he was scared—still enjoyed them deep down.

 Tad was put into daycare next. Abraham made small conversation with Garfield and one of the volunteers, Buchanan. Tad enjoyed the place after a week-long trial of getting him to be fine with his father leaving for periods of time. At first, he was like a small little octopus; clinging to his father’s leg without letting go for four hours straight. It was only when he exhausted himself and could barely stay awake that they peeled him off, set him on the floor in the sleepy-time room with a blanket and cat plush, and Abraham escaped.

“How’s your kids?” Abraham had asked Garfield, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

 Garfield entertained him with a smile. “Abram is just beginning to learn how to walk. Harry and James are play fighting with their Styrofoam swords more often than not.”

 “Mh, that’s good. I can only imagine what it’ll be like when Tad goes through that stage.”

 “If your boy stays the same, then likely very… interesting. Have a good day, Abraham.”

 “You too. And oh,” Abraham sent a glance to Buchanan before he left. “you too as well. I’m glad you seem to be good with toddlers,” he chuckled, “it takes me quite a while to get Tad to sleep.”

 Buchanan smiled awkwardly. He must not have been used to that. “Well it… isn’t so hard, when you know what you’re doing. You too as well, Sir.”

 Abraham left and joined Willie in the car. Willie was snapping his bracelet and fidgeting with it. Its texture was rough but soft, enough to stimulate the nerves but not too harsh as to rub a child’s skin raw. It was made of soft material so too much snapping couldn’t hurt whoever wore it. It was expensive as all living hell—but extremely worth it, it seemed. Willie loved the thing.

 “Still excited to see John?” Abraham asked playfully when he did his seatbelt.

 Willie’s bright, beaming grin told him everything he needed to know.

 However, he had to go get more coffee first. He went to the same shop he brought Jack to—the same one with the odd workers. He ordered fairly quickly. The one in the corner, Booth, if he recalled, was not giving him the best look. He was downright glaring. If he thought Abraham couldn’t hear his quiet, whispered rants about that ‘weird ass bearded guy with horrible political opinions’ to a co-worker, then he was sorely mistaken. Most times that Abraham sat down to drink and do work on his laptop he could hear quiet complaints. And when he looked up, it went away. It was fairly obvious who it was.

 One of the guys who taught around the city, John Schrank, seemed to come in often, both to get coffee and to listen to Booth rant. Or at least pretend he was. During a lot of the man’s rants, Schrank was often publishing tweets on Twitter, and Abraham read each one as soon as they came out. Not because he wanted to though. But because he kept attacking Theo for his political tweets (which Abraham said would get him shot one of these days) and Theo kept posting them in the groupchat. He found it more funny than he did offensive.

 So if Booth glared as he ordered, and the other would probably spit in his face if he knew he was friends with his ‘political rival’, then that was just part of his routine. He paid for the drink, said thank you and goodbye, and practically sped back into the car.

 “Why d’ you look f-ran-tic, Papa?” Willie asked. Damn he had to stop letting Willie read murder mysteries, too many words like frantic in them.

 “Nothing, Willie,” he reached over to ruffle the boy’s hair like it would reinforce what he said. “now let’s go to school.”

 Luckily they arrived just a few minutes early. Most kids had already arrived and Willie was practically jumping out of his seat to get out of the car. He could spot Jack taking John out of his car, which on a social media post he dubbed Bitches-Love-Me-2000, with the boy happily chattering about everything he could think of. Faintly in the back laid Quentin, who was sculpting planes out of sand—crumbly as they were. Jesse, Amu Carter, and Jacky Washington were all conversing in the back. Jacky was maybe two or three years older, but since his school started a few hours later, he spent his time talking to the kids and playing with his sister who was enrolled. It wasn’t the most unusual to see an older kid on the grounds but it always took him off guard. Amy was a nice girl who just stuck to her own guns and played quietly. Jesse, well, in the few times Abraham babysat, could either be a firecracker or as silent as a mouse.

 “You ready to learn, Will?” he asked, getting out of the car and closing the door to then unbuckle his son and carry him out. Even though Willie was getting used to walking again, his father wanted to play it safe.

 Willie enthusiastically nodded. “Yeah! Yeah!” he reached up for his father’s long arms and was then cradled like a baby. Abraham shut the car door with his leg and the two walked over and across the school grounds to the playground. John noticed immediately. He carried Willie over to the sandbox, near Quentin, and John was on them in an instant.

 “Mr. Lincoln! Willie!” he hugged his friend tightly.

 Abraham chuckled at the display. “Be careful, all right? His leg is still weak.”

 “Okay! I promise I will be!” John said with a serious tone, yet went right back to hugging his friend. He had natural leadership qualities in him that Abraham highly appreciated. Not just because it made him excel academically, but because he knew that Willie was in good hands with the boy. He let the three boys get acquainted for the day and walked over to Jack. Jack leaned against his car casually with his hands in his pockets, a navy blue sweater on, slacks, and expensive-looking shoes worth more than Abraham’s entire wardrobe. It never failed to remind him just how rich the guy was.

 Where Abraham was middle-class, Jack was not. His shoes were polished, his shirts from very good quality brands, and his car and intellectual level were that of a Harvard man’s. He knew. Abraham had met multiple people from Harvard and Jack was exactly the type. He did go, anyway, so Abraham wasn’t wrong either.

 “Jack.” he smiled and leaned against the car too. He had to be in his office in a few minutes so he couldn’t talk long.

 “Hey Abraham. How’s your day been?”

 “It’s been fine. I got two cups of coffee in me so far, so I’ll be doing my paperwork just a bit quicker now.” he watched Jack’s handsome smile cross his face. It was beautiful, angelic, hell, worth carving into marble. To preserve for the next hundred years. For tourists to see and think of just how great Jack was.

 Jack laughed. “I get that. Three or four is my limit before I completely go off the rails. How’s Will been?”

 Abraham licked his lips, “Ah, Willie’s been all right. He’s just started to use that leg now but I’d be careful.” He looked over to the three, and the image of his son, lying there on the muddy ground with blood all over his leg flashed through his vision. He looked away with a swallow. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t, it wasn’t but then why did it feel like it was? “I told Ulyss to keep an eye on him during classes.”

 “Smart idea. I just—don’t want anything to happen again.” Jack mumbled. It was apparent that neither were over it. Reasonably, of course. To see a kid on the ground, rain hailing, with blood all over himself and screaming, it’s… it wasn’t… it was a horrible sight. Enough that Abraham should have probably gotten therapy but each time a friend said so he just replied, ‘It won’t fit into my schedule.’ and ignore their following arguments that it would.

 “I don’t either.” Abraham sighed. Their conversation moved on to other topics and it was all right again. A few laughs were shared, some opinions, but ultimately Abraham had to work. Jack gave him a quick hug before they parted and he could barely will himself to pull away. Jack smelled amazing. He smelled like… he smelled like home.

 Abraham made his way into the school, through the halls, and into his office. Ulysses would be busy with his classes and so he had time to actually do work instead of entertain whatever ideas the man came up with. Admittedly, some of them were hilarious. Others made no sense. But most times he merely nodded along and did his paperwork with an absent-minded smile. He’d never admit that Ulysses was one of the main reasons he liked his job. Ulysses was a handful and sometimes too much but he could be calm and peaceful too. If Abraham needed a shoulder then he was there. If Abraham wanted to have fun and do wacky stuff he was there as well.

 He got about ten papers signed and filled or overlooked and corrected before Ulysses came in, a big grin on his face. “Abraham!” he gave the man a quick side hug and sat down in the swivel chair. “Class went great. Willie was very active, able to stand for a bit. You should’ve seen how proud he was when I told him he was doing a great job. How’s your work going? Did you talk to Jack yet?”

 Abraham snickered and put the pen down. “I’m very, very glad. And yes, I have. My work is fine, thank you.”

 Ulysses leaned forward. Their noses almost touched. “What’d you talk about? How much you love each other?”

 The other man’s blush crept up within seconds and he leaned back. “No. We did not. We talked about Willie and space and television among other things. Love was not brought up once.” He said firmly, watching Ulysses groan and spin in the chair.

 “Come on! It feels like it’s been years that you’ve been pining after him!” he picked up a Rubix Cube and began spinning its squares around, “And you have a chance, Abraham, you really do. Just go for it.”

 “Sure,” Abraham got up and picked out some files from the shelf on the side of the room, skimming through to grab a specific one. “doesn’t mean that chance will hit the mark.”

 “But it could!”

 “Doesn’t mean it will, Ulyss.” Abraham sat down in his chair again and flipped open the file, grabbing his reading glasses from the table. He slipped them on and Ulysses’ shadow was clear when he leaned over to see the file too. Sometimes he liked to read the files with Abraham, whether he should have been or not.

 But then the bell rang. “There’s my cue.” Ulysses got up with a grunt and patted his boss on the shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

 Before he left, though, he asked, “Where does your heart reside?”

 …

 “Just go, Ulyss.”

 And so he did.

 Abraham did more of his work and stretched every hour or so until he got a random text. Not from a number he entirely recognized—maybe slightly but nothing too familiar. He read what it said as it was long enough that he had to open it up.

You told me you wanted to be a lawyer.

…

Abraham

Who is this?

Just a little someone you used to be with. In the meantime, I wonder how everyone would feel about this?

They sent a photo of Abraham—quite clearly even though it was night—kissing another man, hand on their cheek, enjoying it. And his heart plummeted. He couldn’t breathe, for a few seconds. For a minute it felt like he was drowning. Cotton—thick and compact filled his ears and he barely typed back.

Abraham

Why.

Well as a lawyer myself I couldn’t exactly let you continue on that path could I? You did train me. I know what you know.

And then it all clicked.

It all.

Clicked.

So stay away from the law, particularly don’t attempt to pursue anyone else (if not for jealousy then because, if everyone’s betrayed you, dear, why wouldn’t they? Why not?), and we won’t have problems. K?

He blocked them before he did anything else. His heart was pounding, and his ears rung, and—and—and they were—no—no Jack wouldn’t do that to him. Jack would never. Jack was different. Jack—Jack would not do that. Abraham vaguely registered his phone sliding into his pocket and his grip on the chair seat, knuckles white, still in his own head and preventing an oncoming panic attack. His blood burned hot and uncomfortably so. Whether that was real or just his imagination, he didn’t know. It was obvious what the answer was but at that point he didn’t’ know. He couldn’t.

 He spent the rest of the day feeling literally sick.

 Abraham barely got himself straightened out enough to make the kids food, shower, and brush his teeth. He slipped his pants off with shaky hands and a hollow, yet hard, feeling in his chest. His stomach was a mix of nausea and confusion. If he stayed still long enough, he began to sway.

 He sent Jack his ‘goodnight’ text as usual and found one last text by Ulysses.

Ulyss

I never got an answer so-

Where does your heart reside, Abraham?

He typed back numbly.

ABCraham

My heart resides with Jack Kennedy.

He shut his phone off, rolled over, and it took him an hour to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

 Abraham seemed fine the first three days. He hid it well. He hid what he was feeling well, and Jack knew it. He could sense a cover-up a mile away. A mask, perfectly crafted but in haste, forgot the last carve. Imperfectly perfect to a fault. Not good enough. So if he seemed… off after a bit, if he seemed preoccupied or consistently checking his phone, then that was what tipped him off.

 Jack hated it. He hated how worried Abraham was. How he was jittery and shaking and not himself. Truth be told it scared Jack. To see his crush so out of it and worried. He wanted to ask what was wrong. If he could help or if he could carry some of the worry. He’d take a goddamn boulder’s worth of worry if it meant Abraham relaxed. But he never asked. He just watched, a million words wanting to spill out but reeling themselves in at the last minute.

 Constantly he wanted to text him as well. Are you okay? was so easy to type yet so hard to send. Each time he’d back out. Close the app or delete it. Only at night, only when Abraham couldn’t see him typing. It was too embarrassing. Jack—hell, he found himself needing more coffee in the mornings since he got less sleep from worrying.

 His alarm went off loudly.

 He rolled over and shut it off with a grunt. The sharp pain he’d gotten used to shot up his spine mercilessly. As if it wanted him to remember it was meant to hurt, like, a lot. Not get numb. One of those days he’d have to invest in something else to help. The pain was bearable, but just barely. He got up, and it took him a second to stand, but he managed and grabbed his phone. He expected the normal good morning text from Abraham, but he saw nothing, and swallowed back the confused feeling in his stomach. Concerned and slightly hurt, but Jack couldn’t expect anything from the man. Abraham owed him absolutely nothing. But to have it be there every day for so long and then see nothing where it would be felt worrying.

 But regardless he ignored it and took his pills, got dressed, and fixed his hair. He couldn’t spend his days worrying. It’d be fine. Abraham was a strong man and if it came down to it, Jack would be there. But for now, he needed to focus on coffee, the kids, and work. George had been a pretty relaxed boss so far. He was usually gone and trying to keep his other workers from mauling each other though, but when he was able to help, he was laid back and made sure everything was going right.

 Jack hadn’t had that many good bosses in his life—some downright pricks and some crooked—but George was a good change. He was also friends with Abraham and while that was entirely unimportant, it helped to know that someone else could potentially share his concern.

 Once he got situated and waved away any excess tiredness from his face, he left his room to go downstairs and see the kids. John was already at the kitchen counter with a Rubix Cube in hand looking concentrated, Caroline was drawing in her notebook, and Patrick was tapping his baby hands against the table to try and make up for any boredom.

 “Good morning you three.” He said, kissing John on the head and patting Caroline’s cheek, giving Patrick a kiss on the cheek and walking over to the coffee maker.

 “Papa, I got a question,” John mumbled, biting his lip when he got another blue cube on the correct side.

 “And that is what, Johnny?” Jack asked, grabbing his bisexual mug and beginning to grab the right items to make the coffee perfect.

 John slid the cube onto the counter, letting Patrick grab at it. “Quentin was talkin’ ‘bout his sissy’s birthday party coming up and, and I was wonderin’, could I come to the birthday party? Willie will come too, so…” he trailed off. This was, in fact, the first time he’d ever asked Jack a question like that. Most of his friends were never house-visitation close and Jack just didn’t trust the parents if he hadn’t met them. But he’d met Theodore and so he could assume it would be fine. And besides, Jack couldn’t say no to his son wanting to socialize.

 “Well,” Jack stirred the coffee with a bit of coconut creamer. “I can’t say no. As long as it’s safe and you know when it starts.” He tapped the spoon on the side of the mug and took an experimental sip—almost right, just a bit more creamer.

 John grinned. “Yeah At uh… I think one, and obviously on her birthday, and they live at this big place called… Saga… S… How d’ you say it again, Caroline?”

 “Sagamore Hill,” Caroline answered with a smile, carefully peeling the corner of the Rubix cube out of Patrick’s mouth. His baby slobber was all over it and he let out a small ‘mhuh’ sound when she took it from him.

 “Yeah! So don’t worry.” John said, watching his father finish making his coffee and grabbing two pre-made sandwiches from the cupboard. He always made them in the night after dinner so he didn’t have to in the morning. Sometimes it’d be something fancy, but most time, it was sandwiches, albeit with very expensive bread. He grabbed two water bottles from the fridge—one sippy cup—and filled the sippy cup with water and put them on the table as well. Patrick grabbed at the cup.

 “I’m not,” Jack said. He took the sandwiches out of their Ziplock bags, put them on top, and gave them to the kids. John dug in immediately. He sat down with his coffee mug in hand and licked his lips, “What do you guys feel like doing today?”

 Caroline answered first. “The library. We have t’ return some books.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

 Jack sipped at his just-right coffee and exhaled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

 ”Did you enjoy the ones you got?” John asked once he swallowed his bite and took a sip of his water. He always preferred bottled over tap; something about it being colder and therefore better.

 “Well yes I did, I read them all.”

 “All of ‘em?”

 “Yes.” Jack smiled at his son’s look, as if he saw a shooting star.

 “I jus’ didn’t think you would. Not all of the kids at m’ school read for fun,” John mumbled and took another bite.

 Jack looked down at his coffee and out of the window. It looked like a good day—bright and definitely not rainy—but he would just remember to definitely keep the umbrella in his car this time. Not the same umbrella he had that day. Not the same one he had when everything went to shit. No, he threw that one into a damn bonfire and watched it burn with the smell of burnt plastic and fabric filling the air. He bought the sparkly pink glitter one. Not because he wanted it first-choice, but because it was the only option, and he wasn’t waiting any longer for them to stock the basic block colors or simple patterns.

 He looked back when Patrick pawed at his mug. “That’s glass, Patrick. I know you know what that is, buddy.” He smiled when his son looked up at him with those wondrous, round, big puppy eyes that he adored. So young and so amazingly adorable. He’d be one soon. God, he’d be one. Jack was getting old. Patrick touched the mug again but this time with both hands, barely grabbing the handle but resting his short stubby fingers around it partially. “You want t’ hold it?” he pushed it to the baby.

 Patrick wrapped his fingers around the handle entirely and let out a small noise of acceptance. He must’ve seen it as a peace treaty between Father and himself to decidedly not push the mug off of the table. As long as Father fed him his favorite snack he would comply but the baby empire would grow. One day…

 Jack laughed when Patrick tried to lean over and see what was in the mug. But he pulled it away. “It’s too hot, baby, you might get burnt.” And if Patrick did, then God fucking damn it, he was skipping work and calling the kids in sick and speeding (safely because of the kids but also illegally safely) to the nearest hospital. He would spend as much money as he had in his savings and his trust if it meant his baby was fine god damn it.

 Patrick stuck his bottom lip out but receded and stuck a finger into his mouth to idly suck on it. As the kids talked and Jack drank his coffee, for one moment, it was peaceful. It was all right again. Maybe not entirely or permanently, but it was all right.

 But if his hand lingered close to his phone for the rest of breakfast, that was all right, too.

-

 “All right, kiddos, hop in,” Jack ushered the kids into Bitches-Love-Me-2000, doing John’s seatbelt and getting Patrick fixed into his seat before closing the door and sliding into the front seat. They took a bit too long inside—getting distracted was fairly easy with a baby, toddler, and big toddler—so they had to rush. Caroline’s school was… forgiving, but didn’t excuse three days in a row of late attendance. Patrick didn’t have any school to go to so really Jack could put him into daycare anytime. John’s school was basically under the ‘come in within ten minutes, you’re fine’ rule. But one of the career teachers, Mr. Adams, wasn’t the most lenient with late students.

 Jack turned the engine on while John whispered to Caroline, “Do y’ think that—that Mr. Abraham will be there?”

 “Why wouldn’t he be?” Jack said instead. He peered through the mirror to send a look at John, who looked to be thinking of an answer. He fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist and crossed one leg over the other.

 “Well,” John started, “He’s just been lookin’ pale. Less uh… less… happy. N’ stuff. Mr. Grant said he’d talk t’ him.”

 Jack started driving while he thought about what his boy said. Paler wasn’t a good sign. Sure, maybe less sunlight, but he always thought of Abraham as the type to enjoy being outside. He enjoyed their walks and he was usually a healthy color. Less happy? Now that was decidedly more concerning. He wondered just what would be the reason. Would it be… what, seasonal depression? It was not Autumn nor was it Winter. Would it be just depression? Or was it something else?

 “And why is that?” he said. He tapped his nails nervously on the steering wheel. He had to keep his own nerves from being obvious in front of the kids. John obviously didn’t seem to sense that anything was wrong, even if he had an idea. Caroline was just halfheartedly listening as she played with Patrick who cooed happily.

 John shrugged. “Just is.”

 “Huh.” Jack turned left. As he waited at a stoplight, he quickly opened his contacts to see if there was anything from Abraham. And yet, absolutely nothing. He put his phone away before the light turned green. Even if he wasn’t the best driver (Ted would tell you otherwise but he had no room to talk), he still knew basic protocol and that using your phone as you typed wasn’t the best option or the safest. Using your phone in general while driving, really. Bobby would always tell him, Jack, you look at your phone for a second and you’ll get in a crash. And you know why Dad’ll chew you out? ‘cause it’ll cost money. Jack would always laugh and reply, Oh yeah? And how much will I be worth then? Bobby would pat his shoulder, Half a bag of wheat at most. And then they’d laugh together.

 Now Jack wasn’t the worst driver either. He could drive and he could hit the brakes but if he needed to be somewhere, or the one rare time he and Ted sped the hell away from the cops and he had to take over, then he may’ve went a little bit over the legal speed limit. Maybe. Maybe.

 “Well… how’s your classes going?”

 Caroline piped up first. “Me ‘n Lucy are building castles together. Polly shared some chocolate with the class. My art teacher told me I’m doing a good job.”

 “Really?”

 Caroline nodded excitedly, beaming with a big smile on her face. Jack smiled.

 “That’s great, honey.”

 “Quent said he’s gon’ bring his pony one of these days,” John said, kicking his feet halfheartedly. He bit his lip in concentration. “and we’ll ride into battle with the—with the enemy.” He whispered the last part. As if he was imagining it, maybe. Imagining all of the ways he could ride into battle with whoever the enemy was on a pony.

 Jack’s smile grew bigger. “Interesting. I’d love to hear about that one.” Caroline’s school soon approached and he got his eldest child out of the car, kissing her cheek. “Have a good day, honey.” She giggled and kissed him on the cheek back, before running into the school. Her flats clicked on the concrete until she was too far away for him to hear. He sighed and turned back to Bitches-Love-Me-2000, slipping inside and readjusting his hands to the wheel. He looked over to John.

 “Ready?”

 “Ready as I’ll ever be, Papa!”

 He ruffled the boy’s hair and got a laugh and two small hands trying to pry his hand off.

 It wasn’t too much later that they arrived at John’s school, and Jack would be a liar if he said he wasn’t specifically watching for Abraham. Sometimes, the man would be watching from the office window and give a polite wave to Jack. He’d always wave back. Even if his hand was covered in dog scratches or had a coffee burn, he always waved back. But there was nobody there. The curtain was down. Jack hesitantly and slowly got John out of his seat and the boy collected his backpack from Caroline’s empty seat and hopped out.

 “Thanks, Papa!”

 “Yeah… you’re welcome, Johnny.” He kissed the boy’s forehead. “I’m going to head in as well if that’s all right. I just have a question for Mr. Abraham.”

 “Oh, okay,” John shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders. Willie and Quentin were both waving excitedly from the playground. “jus’ don’t stick around too long for Mr. Adams’ walks in the halls. He rants about Polly’s father all th’ time.”

 Jack chuckled, the see-sawing worry calming. His son could do so much to his heart. His son was special, he knew it, and he knew that his boy would go on to do great, great things. He took the kid’s hand. “I’ll remember that.” he led John to the playground. Willie was quick to usher him into whatever game they were playing. Quentin was practically up to his knees in the sand. John joined him not too much later. Jack watched for a minute, observing how they played, how a little boy named Charlie was quickly playing along as well. They were just children, having fun, living their life. It was adorable.

 He walked into the school and the doors swung behind him. He sped through the halls. He knew the way to Abraham’s office. For a minute, it felt like he was there on that day again, meeting his son’s principal for the first time. Of course it wasn’t like that at all, but it felt like that. He could feel his heart pound under his ribcage, pumping with his blood. As if it’d explode. He certainly felt like it would.

 Jack knocked when he found the right door. It had a small golden plaque with the word ‘PRINCIPAL’ engraved on it. He got a response after a few seconds.

 “Come in.” it sounded exhausted.

 Jack stepped inside and closed the door. His gaze immediately softened and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw just how bad Abraham looked. He looked sick, even. He was paler and he had eyebags. It was like he hadn’t slept well, or slept at all, and his hair looked messy, like it had been run through multiple times. Abraham rested a hand on his forehead with a pencil in between and he looked up at Jack with exhaustion, numbness, and an underlying broken pain in his eyes that seemed impossible to mend. His button-up was wrinkled, his sleeves rolled up, and his desk was messy. Once he registered Jack’s presence, he put one hand on the desk. There was a pot of white carnations on his desk.

 “Abraham?”

 “Jack.” he put his arm down onto the desk, narrowly missing a coffee cup and setting the pencil down. It rolled just slightly to the left on top of a piece of paper. “What did you come in here for? School questions? John’s doing great in all of his classes if that’s what you need to know.”

 “No, no,” Jack walked forward and slid into the swivel chair in front of the man’s desk. He could see the eyebags and the pure exhaustion even better, and that wasn’t a good thing. He looked skinnier, too. “I’m here to ask about you. How are you doing?”

 Abraham looked surprised. It was like nobody had asked for… far too long. The thought sparked a dangerous anger in Jack’s heart, but he knew that realistically, nobody could have been to blame. “Uhm. Well,” Abraham shuffled in his seat. He was taken aback. “I’m… good. I’m good.” But if he thought Jack believed him, then he was wrong.

 “You look pale and you have eyebags heavier than a textbook,” Jack stated, leaning over the desk to rest his arms on top and fold his hands together. “Be honest. What’s wrong.” He searched Abraham’s eyes for any indication of just about anything. He wanted to make sure Abraham was okay. That was a main priority.

 “You can tell me anything, you know.”

 Abraham sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He looked worn down and Jack wanted to hug him as tightly as possible. “I can’t tell you, Jack. I really can’t.”

 “Yes you can.”

 “No. No, you don’t understand,” Abraham closed his eyes and put a hand over them. He must’ve had a headache. “you can’t. I can’t even begin to put it into words and you being here will just make it worse.” He said.

 Jack wasn’t going to give up. “I’m determined, and you can’t stop me.” He reached over and boldly put a hand over Abraham’s. The other man’s breath hitched. “Seriously, I want to know. I can help. If not me, if it’s legal trouble, then Bobby. Hell, maybe Ted. I promise. Just tell me, Abraham,” he softened his tone. “I care about you.”

 Abraham looked torn. Between telling Jack and lying, both options were tempting. “I know you do.” He swallowed. “That’s the problem.”

 “…How?”

 “Because—” Abraham squeezed his eyes shut. “—because even talking to you is risky. Look, Jack, if…” he reached and put a hand over Jack’s, so now their hands were stacked on top of one another. He opened his eyes to meet Jack’s, and a beautiful yet terrified shade of brown met green. “If this gets out of hand…”

 “Why?” Jack said. He was utterly, irrevocably, confused. What was he talking about? “Why would this get out of hand? What is this, Abraham?”

 The other man kissed his teeth and made a worried sound. It was clear to Jack he was hiding something important. “Because he has this photo! Because he—I don’t even know how he—how—” he ripped both hands away and put his head into them, the heel of his palms digging into his eye sockets. It pained him to even have his eyes open. “and—and—” he was hyperventilating.

 “Woah, Abraham, slow down, slow down,” Jack stood up a little and reached a hand to Abraham’s wrist, but he pulled away, as if he was burnt. “what photo? Who is he?”

 Abraham made a noise that sounded like a stressed animal who was backed into a corner. It almost broke Jack’s heart. “I… I don’t know.” it was a near sob. “I just—just—he—Jack, Jack listen, you wouldn’t think…” he was desperate. It shined like a shooting star in his eyes. He was frantically searching for any hint of fake concern in Jack’s eyes, and it must’ve distressed him that he couldn’t find any. “Differently if I wasn’t… straight, right?”

 Jack shook his head immediately. It was a very different question from what he expected but he didn’t hate that. “No. Of course not, I mean, I’d be a hypocrite,” he said.  “It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.” He was being entirely honest. His heart lurched at the thought that maybe, maybe Abraham wasn’t. Just maybe Abraham liked both—or had no preference—and he had a chance. It was farfetched. A damn near miracle that would never happen. But what if he did have a chance? What if Jack wasn’t the only one interested? He knew it was just hopeful optimism. But the question still lurked in the back of his mind and his heart, which pounded significantly harder. “Is that part of the reason?”

 “…Maybe.”

 “Then no. What’s going on, Abraham?”

 “They could get the kids involved, Jack. They could—” but instead of continuing, Abraham stopped, caught up in his own mind. Jack stretched (which hurt, a bit.) to flip the curtain up and to the side. He guided Abraham to the window. The kids were just fine; Willie was holding a stick and declaring official ‘war stuff’ on the ‘no good empire’, and John Jr. was happily cheering. Quentin was louder and bolder, bringing up near-violent ideas as to how they could bring down the empire. And if Jack knew Willie well, he would take them into complete and utter consideration. Abraham calmed down at the sight and his breathing evened out.

 “The kids are fine. See? They’re playing. All I need is a name, Abraham, and I can help.” Jack murmured. He resisted the urge to pull the taller man into his body and hug him. He clearly needed a hug.

 Abraham swallowed harshly. “How.”

 “My brothers. One is a lawyer, and the other is a Senator who, believe it or not, can also help in Law.” Jack explained, and Abraham looked vastly overwhelmed. “He doesn’t do small cases as much as he does big ones, but he can surely make an exception. So I can help with any legal trouble. It sounds like blackmail to me. Harassment, perhaps.”

 Abraham was contemplating his decisions for a moment before he responded. “I… I could get… Thomas involved, too. Or Theo.”

 Jack didn’t want to tell him he despised Thomas Jefferson, because he already knew that, and Jack was sure. “Either one. Whoever does better for this sort of thing. What does he do anyway?”

 “Theo?”

 “Yeah. If he’s done law I’m sure he could.”

 “He’s in the Assembly right now. He hasn’t practiced law, never been a Lawyer but, he can definitely pull his own if he needs to. He owes me a favor for watching his kids anyway.” Abraham said. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Thomas is a Lawyer, got it under the Virginia bar but he has it here too. He’ll take it if he means it adds to his cases. He can hold up in court, but he doesn’t work well with people he doesn’t like,” he looked up at Jack. “and you’re one of them.”

 Jack sighed. He already guessed. “He won’t have to work with me like he will Bobby or Ted. Unfortunately, he sounds better in court.” He patted Abraham’s shoulder and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Theodore can be good for public damage control if it gets out of control. Do you want me to ask Bobby if he would be willing?”

 The sigh that came back was nothing short of ‘I’m-tired’. “Yes, please.”

 Jackolantern

Hey. Have a law question.

He got a quick reply. Leave it to Bobby to always reply quickly.

Bobblehead

Whats wrong??

Jackolantern

A friend needs help. Someone has some sort of blackmail, idk, we could make a case for harassment and emotional damage (as stupid as it sounds) since he looks like he’s ready to drop dead. If you can’t, is Ted available?

Bobblehead

Ted is… honestly not available and if his driving is bad then you probably want me to do this case. Especially if it’s very… fragile??

That got a smile out of him.

Jackolantern

Alright. I’ll give you details as I get them.

He put his phone back into his pocket. “Can you tell me anything else? I’ve secured a case with Bobby. Thomas should want to help, you are his friend.” He took a step back to lean on the desk, careful to miss the drying coffee (he’d scrub that off if he needed to), and crossed his arms. Abraham licked his lips and occupied his eyes by looking at his door.

 “The photo is—it’s… not good. It’s not—it’s not something illegal but I’m not ready to expose what it holds. And they told me to stay out of law. It could be harassment. And this isn’t the first time they’ve contacted me, it’s just the first time they’ve had proof of anything.” He paused. “I liked them. Romantically, I mean.”

 Jack could only wonder how someone could do this to Abraham. If they knew he liked them and realistically they must have, then why do that? Why do what they did? Sure, he didn’t know what the photo was. But it must have been private. Maybe it… related to his sexuality, somehow. That’d make sense that Abraham wouldn’t want it revealed. “Really?”

 “Yes. We… they knew, but,” Abraham scratched at his arm and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He must have been ready to contact Jefferson. “I guess they don’t care anymore. They said not to pursue anyone, too. They’re a Lawyer.”

 “A Lawyer?” Jack scoffed. “Doing something like this? Their career will go down the damn drain. Which bar?” he was asking both because he wanted to know, and because he could possibly look them up. Just to see if he could get an idea.

 “Georgia.”

 “…I see. Not for much longer, I can imagine.” That got a small chuckle from Abraham, which was the goal. Jack was glad. He looked fucking drained and barely alive. If he had to make a few jokes to make sure his friend was all right, then damnit, he was going to.

 Abraham started rapidly typing on his phone—backspace a few times, a typo likely—and it seemed to be a short message. He bit his lip while he waited. Jack could narrowly see his phone screen and he saw three bouncing dots appear in the corner only a minute later. At least the guy got around to answering. He pegged Jefferson as the type to take a million years to respond. And if he didn’t respond, then there must’ve been another option. “What if Thomas can’t take the case? Busy, or something?” he asked. Abraham looked up and he took a second to reply.

 “I… I could get someone else, probably. It just helps if it’s someone we know, I guess, makes it less possible they could backstab you.” he said.

 Jack shrugged. “Fair enough.”

 Jefferson responded soon enough. Abraham leaned back and typed once more. Longer, but still definitively short. He crossed one leg over the other. One more reply, one more text from Abraham, and he put his phone down and sighed. “Thomas can do it. He’ll represent. Is Bobby fine with doing the legal document stuff? It’ll be quicker. He won’t be able to represent with Thomas, but he can just do background work without being acknowledged for it by the actual law. Theo will probably say yes to being damage control, although right now, Tom Platt is gunning for his head, so he’ll do as much as he can.”

 Jack nodded. “That’s fine. Bobby will be fine with it, I’m sure. Let me tell him.”

 Jackolantern

Hey. Got more details. Apparently the person got admitted to the Georgia bar, may’ve been romantically involved w/ Abraham, told him not to pursue law or anyone else (weird), and this isn’t the first time he’s contacted him. We could hit it for extortion and harassment. Still wondering if emotional damage is possible. Are you fine with just doing the legal documents and any extra research behind the scenes? His friend Thomas Jefferson will represent in court. That is IF Abraham tells us the person’s name.

 He got a response no later than a minute and a half later.

 Bobblehead

That’s fine. I’ll look into it. I’ve heard of Jefferson, don’t really like him, or his political views, but I’ll work with him for the sake of you and your boyfriend. I could come down there, but with my schedule, it’ll be a tight fit. How long do you think the case will take???

Jackolantern

Depends. Weeks, months. Years? I mean it's not too complicated but we can damn sure try. And he is nOT MY BOYFRIEND

Bobblehead

Mhm

 Jack felt a slight heat rush onto his cheeks and up his neck and he looked away, crossing his arms. This was… embarrassing. “Bobby is all right with it. Will you talk to Theodore about it?”

 “Yeah. Ulysses will understand if he has to fill in for my paperwork more now. Do I… should I tell the kids?”

 “No. Not until we know more, until you say more, and until we know where we stand.”

 But Abraham looked troubled. “Jesus, I just thought about how much this will cost me.”

 Jack was silent for a moment. “I’ll pay for it.”

 Abraham’s eyes widened. “No, Jack, I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that. I don’t even think you can, and if you can, you still aren’t.” he stood up. “That’s too much. I mean, giving me this help and being there for me—it’s good enough. You don’t need to spend possibly thousands. Won’t that, like, affect you too?”

 Jack chuckled and looked into Abraham’s eyes. “I have millions saved, Abraham. Thousands won’t do shit to me. And that doesn’t count the small bit I’ve been saving from my job.” He said. Abraham looked positively shocked and a bit jaw-slacked. It was almost funny, actually. He didn’t see many people react that way—either because they themselves were rich or because they already kind of knew. But Abraham? He didn’t have the biggest clue as to how rich Jack was. Hell, if he bought a five-thousand-dollar shirt, Abraham would say he just saved up over the years.

 “Well shit. You could probably afford to buy… I don’t know, Disneyland.”

 He smiled. “I’ve been planning to go to Disneyland, actually, maybe for Patrick’s birthday weekend.”

 Abraham managed a small smile of his own. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

 “Listen,” Jack took a step forward and put a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “do whatever work you can, don’t stress yourself out. Go home. Relax. Any new updates, anything you want to tell me, just text or call and I’ll be there. I will always be there for you. No matter what. All right?”

 Abraham looked awestruck. “…All right, Jack.”

 They looked at each other in silence. The kids outside were the only noise. And for one moment, for one single moment, Jack almost leaned in. Abraham’s lips were parted and they looked tempting. The hand on Abraham’s shoulder felt just right. As if it was meant to be there. His heart pounded in his ears, and he almost got bold. He wondered if Abraham was thinking the same thing too. He looked like he was barely holding something back. Whether it be words, or actions.

 “Jack…” Abraham started. “If… look, if this goes haywire, if something happens, I just wanted you to know I…” he was struggling with his words. He licked his lips, and Jack kept himself composed by stealing a half-second glance. “I… l—”

 “PAPA! COME LOOK AT OUR CASTLE!”

 Both of them jumped at John’s voice. Jack let go of Abraham’s shoulder reluctantly. “Coming, John,” he called, but his eyes didn’t leave Abraham’s. “I have time, if you want to tell me still. He’s a patient kid.”

 Abraham shook his head. “No, go, he wants you to see, trust me,” he smiled, albeit fake, and Jack settled for it. He walked out of the office with a feeling in his stomach that he should’ve pushed further.

 Later that day, he talked a bit more with Bobby, and he checked Abraham’s contact. There were two messages.

Soulheart

Just wanted to say thanks for earlier. It really, really helped.

And I’m going to bed early. Just to not ‘stress myself out’ like you advised. Goodnight, Jack. :)

Jack stared at the messages for a few moments before he felt a fire dancing across his cheeks, and he typed back, barely able to contain the grin on his face. He was so damn glad none of the kids were around and were upstairs playing in Caroline’s room.

Jack

You’re welcome. Goodnight, Abraham. :)

He put his phone face down on the table and hid his face in the couch pillow. He was happy, he was so fucking happy, and he loved it.

-

Bobblehead

Hey. Getting a flight. See you tmrw. Ted said he’d be there for, as he said, ‘emotional support’ but I feel like he just wants to eat your pringles.

Jackolantern

See you tmrw, Bobby. And I am now actively hiding them as we speak.

Chapter Text

  Jack woke up early. Far too early, in fact. It was the day that Jackie would take the kids. Patrick’s birthday was just a few weeks ago, and she’d be glad to spend even more time with him. The onesie really was expensive. The tag was in its own damn bag. Maybe he was up because he couldn’t sleep, or he kept waking up in cold sweats. He didn’t know why. His nerves and stress were through the roof. He was fine the day before, but every time he closed his eyes he woke right back up with his heart going a million miles an hour and a sick feeling in his stomach. Not even NyQuill helped. If anything, that made it worse. So for a second, he lay in bed, thinking about everything.

  He still remembers the loud bang of the colliding metal. The ship's meeting and him being thrown off his feet, falling, and having to do something. Having to rescue. Water flooding his clothes and over his body and flooding his brain. It didn’t, but maybe it did. Maybe it did, and this was all fake. He’d already died. And the hard feeling of sand digging into his leg and his hair dripping in front of his face, bones aching, back nerves ripping into his thoughts. Harsh breathing. Pulling with teeth. His teeth pulling with as much strength as they could muster and living. The coarse sand between his fingers and grating his skin red. The initial pain after, of his spine hurting like no other. Chronic. Horrible. Aches in the back, his head, whining deliriously as he’s on a bed and almost coked out with meds. He still remembers it. He tried, he tried hard, but each time he tried to say it his spine shot imaginary knives through his entire body and he always let out a pathetic sob instead.

  Joe. Joe coming back. Joe, Joe, Joe—he didn’t leave Jack behind, couldn’t, no—no—Joe left and served gloriously but he came. He came back. His brother. His big brother was back and he came to see him. Came to see Jack. Jack was in a horrible state. Pain and gauze and bandages, his spine acting more like poison than a bone. But he got a medal. It was small, it was insignificant, but to him it was proof that he was someone. The effort wasn’t for naught. He did something. If his father was proud. Then. That was all that mattered.

 Smoke. Water. Salty. Pulling. Sand. Carving. Ache.

 He still remembers.

 The usual day like this would be fine. Jackie would come over, they’d talk a bit, and she’d take the kids and they’d have fun together. Jack would probably get work done or have a day all to himself—lately it had been going out with Abraham but that wouldn’t be possible this time. Bobby was supposed to visit along with Ted to start sorting out the base of what would go on in court. Jack already said he’d pay and Bobby said he’d bring documents for that. He wasn’t particularly fascinated by law, but he knew enough that this would be expensive and time-consuming if even one person didn’t like how it was going. At least Abraham didn’t have to pay, though.

 Not everyone had as much money as the Kennedys obviously. That was obvious right from the start. And so Jack didn’t feel bad at all about helping Abraham out, god knew he needed it, and it wasn’t like he was paying the same amount he’d given to charity before. That was a lot, but not even that put a dent into their money. Paying for Court couldn’t either and surely Jefferson didn’t charge much. Even if he did, Jack wouldn’t feel it. The amount his father gave him in his savings account was enough that he could pay for court a thousand times over.

 But he wondered. What was Abraham going to say? Would it be something important or was it a question? The thought circled in his head for the majority of the moment. He’d have to find out, and hopefully soon. For right now, he got up, the pain shooting up his back like an arrow. He was used to it, of course he was, but it still hurt. Jack put on a grey long sleeve and took his pills. He took an extra one—even if it was possibly dangerous, the pain felt way worse today. He brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. There was not much except two texts. One from Bobby, one from Abraham.

 Bobblehead

Hey gmorning, on the flight rn but I wont take too long. After that ill get a cab.

 He yawned and replied.

Jackolantern

Sounds good.

 He switched it over to Abraham’s contact, which he honestly forgot he named Soulheart for a minute.

Soulheart

Good morning, Jack.

Jack

Good morning.

 Jack slid his phone into his pocket. He noticed the absence of a smiley face in Abraham’s text; granted, he could’ve forgotten or meant to add it, but he could’ve been stressed. It’d make sense. An incoming lawsuit and court and the expense of someone pushing you to come out? Jack would be sad and stressed too. He was just simply glad that he’d already basically came out (posting about men back in high school may’ve been the kicker) and nobody had any proof of anything he’d done. Kissing or otherwise. And Jackie would never compromise anything they’d ever done together. But Abraham decidedly didn’t have that closure, and it hurt him to know.

 He ran one hand through his hair before he approached the front door and opened it, the sound of the rest of his house flooding his ears. The warm atmosphere and the sound of light morning rain on the windows, and his children up and energetic. They usually weren’t. Jack slowly went downstairs and paused once he saw the sight of Jackie on the couch and the kids crowding around her. Caroline was on the floor with her head on her mother’s knee, looking up happily. John-John was on the couch babbling excitedly. Patrick was in his mother’s arms looking tired.

 When John noticed Jack, his beaming baby grin grew, and he got off the couch to run to his father. “Papa! Mama was telling us all about her new line of stuff for her bus-iness!” he grabbed Jack’s hand and led him to the couch, a smile beginning to grow on his face. Caroline sent him a smile. He sat down next to Jackie while John got between the two and back onto his original spot. “Tell ‘em, Mama! Tell Papa about the stuff you’re gon’ sell!” he looked excitedly between his two parents. It wasn’t too often that they had a lovely family moment like this, so domestic, and the small boy was definitely appreciating it.

 Jackie giggled. “Well, Johnny, I am going to sell a new line of clothing. It’s going to be suits made for women, but with the addition of being able to tighten or loosen whenever you want.” She looked up at Jack. “Like a corset, almost.”

 “Really?” Jack said.

 “Yes, really. And I’m excited for when it’ll come out. Ethel’s been entirely on board with the project, you know.”

 “I can imagine,” Jack chuckled. “She loves a lot of the stuff you make.”

 “I know she does. John, why don’t you tell your father about the shirt design you came up with?” Jackie ruffled her boy’s hair, resting her hand on the crown of his head. John looked ecstatic and peered up at his father.

 “I told her about my shirt idea! It’ll be really cool and be made of super light stuff so, when, when you attach the wings on the back, you can fly!”

 Jack laughed. “Uh-huh. To be an astronaut?” he wrapped an arm around John.

 John nodded. “Yeah! ‘Cause I want to be one! I’ll be up there!”

 It pleased him to know his son had such aspirations, even if impossible. He found it adorable. It was good for him—to be interested in something was good for a kid, and Jack worried at first that he’d have a hard time at school. But John had gotten so much better socially and made good friends (which led to Jack’s life the way it was) and suddenly he didn’t need to worry from the start of John’s fifth month at school. He was glad his son had made friends, glad he had big dreams.

 “Oh yeah? And then what?”

 “To be an actor!”

 “I’m sure you’ll do it wonderfully, Johnny.” He kissed the top of John’s head.

 Caroline looked up at Jackie. “Could I be a C-E-O like you?”

 Jackie took a minute to look like she was thinking, but her smile widened and she put a hand on her shoulder. “I think so, yes, you have the brains for it. Don’t you agree, Jack?”

 Jack thought about the kid’s futures for a second. Caroline, being a CEO just like Jackie, making clothing and meeting with billionaires for deals and making a great woman out of herself. John, being an actor or an astronaut. Doing great things. Either going to the moon or meeting famous people, making millions, being a face of Hollywood and yet coming out just as great as he was before. If that was how his children ended up living, that was entirely fine with him. As long as they were happy then he could continue. “I entirely agree. You could be the most powerful woman CEO in the world and I wouldn’t doubt it for a second, Buttons.”

 Caroline looked like she was told Santa was real. “I’ll be the best C-E-O in the world!”

 Jackie laughed softly. “I think you will, darling, I think you will.”

 But at some point the kids found talking boring and abandoned the plastic dinosaurs on the floor to rummage through the kitchen. He’d feed them before they left, even if it was just a granola bar. In favor of the kids leaving them alone Jackie took on a calmer air and said, “How’s it been, Jack? I know you have been getting closer with John’s principal.”

 “Yeah,” Jack sighed, relaxing into the couch seat. “I have. Until this law case that we’re definitely going to have, suing for extortion, or at least, I hope.”

 Jackie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Really? Who’s involved?”

 “Bobby, he’ll work with Abraham’s lawyer, one of his friends, too. I have an assemblyman apparently willing to do damage control.”

 She shot for her phone in her dress pocket, pulling it out and pulling up Google in mere seconds. “Do you know their name? Anything to identify them? I can easily get Ari involved if you—”

 Jack cut her off. “No, not Ari, don’t even tell him about it,” he hissed out of sudden jealousy. He wasn’t jealous naturally, but he honestly didn’t like this Ari guy. Jackie had to adjust her world so that he’d fit. Initially he wouldn’t have fit at all into Jackie’s world. Jack knew he was going to try and marry Jackie, and if that Christmas Party meeting wasn’t awkward, then that wedding would be. He didn’t want to be the jealous ex for the next three decades but part of him still felt like Jackie was his only companion. Part of his heart still loved her; even if it wasn’t romantic anymore. And Jack didn’t want some random Greek tycoon guy coming into his business that had no reason to be Ari’s business. “I just—don’t want him involved.’

 Jackie nodded. “All right. Do you know their name?”

 “No,” he felt the jealousy drain out of him within milliseconds and he hunched over and put his head into his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eyeballs. “Abraham wouldn’t tell me and I don’t know why. I don’t know why when that could easily get us into court already.”

 “Did they have any connection?” Jackie put her phone into her lap and next to Patrick’s sleeping form “Colleagues, friends, close friends… maybe even lovers?”

 Jack shook his head. As far as he knew, no. Abraham said he liked them romantically but didn’t express if it was requited or not. If it was, then why…? “I—I don’t… think so, no, I mean, Abraham said he—liked them romantically but, I don’t think it was mutual.”

 Jackie noticed his sorrow expression and frowned. “Jack, Bunny, talk to me, what’s wrong?” she leaned over as much as she could with Patrick on her and grabbed his hands with her own manicured pair, peeling them from his eyes to reveal teary and stressed ones. Even if it wasn’t his case, even if it wasn’t his lawsuit or his public image, it still caused him great stress. Not just because of the circumstances but because he wasn’t trusted enough by the man he loved. “Jack?” she said once more, and the care in her voice was similar to one of a mother’s. Soft and forgiving.

 She had a look in her eyes that he barely saw in anyone else’s. Only from people who truly cared. Who would do anything for him. And yet, he found himself thinking the look was similar to what Abraham would look at him with. Care. Deeper than the blood in one’s veins.

 “I…” Jack was already tearing up even further. “I just. I don’t know why he doesn’t trust me enough. Why doesn’t he trust me?” his voice nearly broke at the end. “I’ve been—I’ve been there for him and, and he doesn’t owe me anything he doesn’t owe me a thing, I wouldn’t let him, but, but, I thought we were clo—” he paused as the lump in his throat grew, aching, and he swallowed. When he blinked a tear began rushing down his cheek. Jackie could tell he was on the verge of crying, and maneuvered to put Patrick in his baby seat next to her in favor of pulling him in. She smelled like perfume and comfort, and Jack clung to it like a baby with its blanket.

 “You can let it out, Jack,” she whispered, quiet and soft, but not meek, like she always was. “You can always let it out with me.”

 Jack inhaled sharply and rapidly blinked. The tears weren’t stopping. “I—I just, I thought we were close and, and I mean—I mean I just want him to be okay and I—” he sobbed into her shoulder. He was definitely staining her dress with his tears. “I care about—I want him, Jackie, I need him,”

 Jackie patted his back gently and rubbed circles with two of her fingers. It relieved a little bit of the pain in the top half of his spine. “Oh, Jack,” she sighed. “You love him, don’t you.” She pulled him away to look him in the eyes, and he looked up at her as if she was a priest to pray to, shining eyes meeting soft and loving ones.

 He swallowed again. “Yeah.” He rasped. “Yeah, I do, I do.” Jackie pulled him back into her shoulder and he sobbed as quietly as he could into her dress. She was his shoulder to lean on. She was his pillar in moments like these. And he prayed to god it would never change. She shushed his cries and seemed to be getting emotional herself. Maybe because she remembered that Jack told her their father—Joe’s, his, Bobby’s, and Teddy’s—told him that Kennedy’s don’t cry. Men don’t cry, but Kennedy’s especially. For Jack to cry so openly was a good thing. He was open, he was comfortable, and he was unfairly vulnerable. But it was a change from the man who felt like he had to stay strong all the time and carried his father’s expectations like he was a Carrier of God’s Glory.

 He sniffled and reached a hand around to her back, holding her tightly. He hugged her as tight as he could. Like if he let go even a bit, she’d disappear. While she held him like he was porcelain glass, a doll, maybe because of his back and maybe because she wanted to. It reminded Jack that she was there and alive and real. He couldn’t lose more people he loved, he couldn’t lose her, not now, not anytime. She was his rock. “Should I…”

 She knew what he meant immediately. “Yes. You should. If not now you will not be able to again.”

 Jack burrowed deeper into her shoulder.

 “I’m scared, Jackie. What if it goes wrong?”

 “You can only try, Jack. You can only try.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

 The sound of the kids rummaging through the cupboards and the rain filled the house, and Jackie held Jack, and for one moment, the world didn’t exist outside of Jackie and the children.

-

Jackie managed to calm the kids when they got bored and they played for some time before she gathered them to leave. Jackie looked at him with pure sympathy. He nodded slightly. I’ll be all right. Before she left out the front door, the rain letting up mostly. It was nothing more than a few droplets. The air was dewy, he felt better, and he strolled to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. When he went to set the coffee maker he noticed—it was already done, there was a steaming cup of coffee, and a small note next to it that read Love You. Jackie <3. He smiled at the note and grabbed the mug. He blew on it once, twice, ad then took a long and good sip of it.

 He could feel it warmly slide down his throat and the bitter aftertaste, not as bad as it would have been. It numbed part of the pain in his throat at least and cleared up part of his headache from crying. He exhaled with a sigh and sucked on the tip of his tongue, looking outside. It was beautiful. Jackie’s car was already gone and instead left flourishing green plants and trees in view of the window. There was a woman walking her dog in view and he took another sip of coffee. Jackie knew how to make it. She always knew. Whether it was coffee, or food, or anything, she knew, and even if they weren’t together they could still do small things like making coffee for one another.

 He felt the vibration of his phone and he pulled it out, spying one text from Bobby. He opened the contact.

 Bobblehead

Landed. Will get a cab. If ted’s not here in 4 minutes im leaving without him and he can walk

Jack

Alright. See you. Tell him hes not getting any of my fucking pringles                          

He was surprised to see the three bouncing dots within a second.

Bobblehead

That wont stop him but ill try

Jack

I know.

He put his phone back into his pocket and walked over to the counter that separated the kitchen and living room, adjusting to lean against it with one leg over the other. The counter wasn’t forgivingly soft—so he had to make sure it didn’t dig too much into the base of his spine. Even the slightest bit of pain for a second could ruin his whole day. At least, he thought, I’ll get to see pictures of John and Caroline.

 He took another sip and waited for his brothers.

 As it turned out, Bobby and Ted wouldn’t take too much longer. Jack waited ten or fifteen minutes and then saw a taxi pull up in the window view. He put his coffee mug down and waited for the inevitable ring of the doorbell. Bobby always rang and Ted usually just knocked, waited three seconds, and came in. Three seconds meant half a second, and Bobby always rang at least twice before he just decided to come in. They had keys anyway.

 Ring.

The doorbell rang, and Jack immediately walked over to open it. He unlocked it, twisted the knob, and there stood Bobby, in all of his younger glory. He was shorter than Jack and Ted (who waited patiently behind his younger brother.) even if he was the middle brother. Bobby smiled at him. They were still them, they were themselves. Bobby may’ve been a politician and Ted a Senator and Jack a damn vet worker, but they were still the same Kennedy brothers that charmed everyone, and if there were four at one point, none of them ever mentioned it without prompting. He wore a navy blue suit, complete with the tie, and had a big black briefcase in his hands.

  “Jack.”

 “Bobby.”

 The two embraced in a tight hug. It’d been a while, actually. It’d been far too long. Bobby had a new damn kid in the timespan of how long it’d been. Jack would have come if he wasn’t alerted mid-hospital stay for accidentally burning his hand and cutting it during a disastrous dinner. Bobby smelled just like he had years ago and it brought Jack a sense of home. The Cape.

 “You still haven’t gotten taller, huh?”

 “Shut up.” Bobby was smiling into his long sleeve.

 “How’s Ethel?”

 “She’s great.”

 The hug lasted even longer but Ted raised a hand, “Hey. Sorry. Can you let me in before I die of heatstroke out here?”

 Bobby pulled away from Jack and rolled his eyes fondly, “It’s not that hot, Teddy.” But he stepped into the house and to the couch and table, putting the briefcase down on it and pulling out multiple pieces of paper. Now that the doorway was cleared, Ted stepped in front of Jack, taller yet younger, bigger.

 Ted hadn’t changed much. He was still the same man—the same kid that Jack had thrown footballs with and played with. The football team was plenty good for him. He’d been—hadn’t he been hitched? No, maybe not, that must’ve been his mind.

 “Now hug me, Jack, I’m not Bobby but I’m your brother,” Ted pulled him in and Jack huffed out a laugh. He wrapped his arms around Ted and patted his back with one hand. His youngest brother held him gently and that told Jack that he remembered the back pain. At some point in time, Ted was shorter and Jack was younger—but now if he tried to pick Ted up he’d probably snap his spine in half. He reached a hand up to ruffle the back of his brother’s hair.

 “Yeah, nice t’ see you too, Teddy.”

 “I’m still a Senator, at least.”

 “…Ted it’s been years,” Jack pulled away and Ted wore a massive grin. “What, are you going to be in there till the day you die?”

 Ted shrugged, but he looked gleamingly fond of both that and the teasing. “Maybe, maybe not. I wouldn’t be upset. Would you?”

 Jack shook his head with a fondness far too attached to be considered annoyed. But Bobby clapped his hands together and the two looked over, spotting the briefcase still open, more documents, and Bobby in professional mode. “Now, if you two will come over here, we can get started.”

 Jack took the recliner and Ted sat on the end of the couch. If he didn’t keep an eye on his younger brother, it was likely that there would be missing chips or drinks by the time he went to bed.

 “So, what’s all of the paperwork?”

 Bobby grinned. “I’m glad you asked, Jack,” he grabbed one of the papers. Underneath were three pens; one black, one red, and one more black. The red stood out. “this is for you to sign—I need both your signature and Abraham’s, the only thing on there is that he knows you’re paying for his fees. Y’know, client-third-party relationship. Doesn’t mean I should tell you as much as I do in the client-lawyer relationship, since we are technically client-lawyer, but I still will.”

 Jack scanned the document. He trusted his brother obviously but there was usually fine print. “Hm. And Jefferson. He’ll be the lawyer, right?”

 “Yes, he will, even if he’s a bit… sketchy,” Bobby mumbled. “But if I know his personality and I think I do, he’ll withhold what he legally should from you, even if Abraham wants you to know everything. Whether he knows he should withhold it or not, Jefferson can pose a problem if he’s not willing to cooperate.”

 When he finally finished reading it, he leaned over to grab a black pen and clicked it open, scrawling his name in one of two signature boxes. The other one was definitely for Abraham. That meant he’d have to get Abraham over, as well. “And why wouldn’t he be? This is for a friend, of course he will. If not then you can come in, you’re probably a better lawyer than he is.” Jack handed the paper back to Bobby who put it back down onto the table. He crossed a leg over the other and relaxed into the recliner. “What does sketchy mean?”

 Bobby pulled his phone out of his breast pocket, turned it on, and opened an app to show it to Jack. It was notes—and there were many of them. “I wrote down what I remembered. He has some shady past, about underage girls and possible impregnation. We don’t know for sure, though. His records are eerily clear for a charge like this.” Bobby sounded disgusted, but formal, as if he was waiting for the day he could use this to ruin a man’s life.

 Jack was more or less entirely gobsmacked. Underage impregnation? “I—does Abraham know about this…?” he didn’t reach for the phone but he took a few more seconds to look. Bobby put it into his breast pocket and crossed his arms.

 “No, likely not. If he did he wouldn’t be friends with Jefferson, that I can guarantee. No man would. I think this is a matter of bribing people so it doesn’t get out to the local press,” Bobby put a few fingers to his lips, clearly thinking hard. He always analyzed every tidbit of information he got on lawyers or cases. He was indestructibly human, and that would be his enemies’ downfall.

 Bobby was what a lion was to a cat, essentially. He could be charming and sweet and fun, but he could be formal and cold and analytic. Dangerously so. But Jack was proud of him for that, proud that he could easily win cases, proud he was using his skills to help people. Bobby was a force to be reckoned with. Even his enemies toed the line. If they didn’t, they got bit. He wanted to improve the world; he donated so often and did so many good things that there was nearly nothing true someone could use against him. If Bobby wanted to reform the nation, then Jack would support it entirely. He could do it. Bobby could definitely do it. He would bend heaven’s gates and Saturn's rings if it meant he got what he wanted. And determination such as that was useful.

 “And will you go after him once this is over?” Ted asked, intertwining his fingers and leaning back as if he was a detective.

 Bobby nodded firmly. “Of course I am. There’s evidence, I know the girl’s name, and it would be justice. For her and possibly others, and even if not, then at least I got that poor girl justice.” He turned his glance to Jack, “Do you think he’ll be upset if his friend goes to jail?”

 “Abraham? No,” Jack shook his head briefly. “if he knew the shit you just told us and that Jefferson was guilty, he’d probably be a bit upset, but only because Jefferson wasn’t who he thought he was.”

 “Speaking of, what do we know about Abraham’s records? Is there anything to compromise his position as the client?” Ted said.

 Bobby then grabbed something from the bottom of the briefcase and pulled it out, putting it on top of the then-closed briefcase. It was a sleek silver laptop, a glowing apple sign on the end, and he flipped it around to face both of his brothers wide a wide grin. “Nope. Abraham Lincoln, six-foot-five, hair black, eyes brown, no criminal record. One divorce from a Ms. Mary Todd; but not for domestic violence on his part—he has nothing to compromise him and his kids seem to be fine as well. No calls to C-P-S, no nothing. He’s also been checking out law books, so it is likely he will know what to do.”

 “Law?” Ted said, but Jack remembered. To stump him from being a lawyer, that was what the person wanted, to stop Abraham.

 “Yes.”

 “How do you know that?” Jack asked suddenly. How in god’s name did Bobby know what books Abraham was presumably checking out from the library? In return, the grin grew.

 “A bit of talk, showing ID, explaining, and you get access to a man’s library records.”

 Jack couldn’t fight the smile that grew across his face fondly.

 “Why?”

 “It tells me what he’s interested in. Now,” Bobby clasped his hands together. “What’s the main issue?”

 Jack sighed. “The person has some. …Evidence. Of some sort. And Abraham doesn’t want it out. They told him to stay out of the law business. Maybe some sort of extortion, harassment? What exactly could we sue for entirely? I mean, what’s our biggest target?”

 Ted raised a finger instead. “Extortion is the biggest one.”

 “And if we convince the courts we could try emotional damage and stress, but that only works if there’s a change in therapist appointments, medications, or documentation,” Bobby replied. “so extortion, harassment, and… I think that’d be it. Is this the first time, Jack?”

 “No. They’ve done it before.” Jack leaned further into the recliner. “I’ll need to invite Abraham to sign the papers and tell us more—I still need the name. You can forward all of our documents and proof to Jefferson, all we know of the guy.”

 “What’s their profession?”

 “Maybe…” Jack bit his lip. “A lawyer? They passed the Georgia bar. Not only can they block Abraham from stealing clients and being potential competition, but they can ruin his entire public image. They have him in a corner.” The thought made his heart sting. He hated it. He hated Abraham being afraid, stressed, concerned. It didn’t fit him. He should have been happy and stress-free, not worrying for his entire life and the job that he seemed to enjoy. If he got fired, would he be barred from any jobs due to him being… different?

 No. No. Jack wasn’t letting that happen.

 Bobby was looking up the Georgia bar within seconds and yet when he found nothing, he sighed out of growing frustration. “Is that all we have so far? We have the charges, we have our plans, we just need a signature and more than what bar they passed. That’s not enough.”

 Jack got up and walked over to the counter, grabbing the coffee he had barely remembered, the same coffee Jackie made him. “I’ll call him. All right? I’ll call him and I’ll get… something, something out of him, at least, or we will when he’s here,” he said as he stared into the brown abyss, lightly shining and cold. It was something to distract his eyes without having to really pay attention to it. “does that work?”

 Bobby grabbed another document and propped it up in his hand, looking it over. “Yes. It is.” He put it down and picked another one up while Ted silently made his way to the kitchen and Jack sat back down again. “I’m just making sure we have what we need.” He looked at Jack, blues as shiny as the coffee. “Do you want me to tell Jefferson right now or should we get more information before he knows anything? He has to be patient, so there’s no shame in making him wait.”

 “Make ‘im wait.” Jack took another drink of coffee. Cold but still bitterly good. “Besides, he deserves it. If we need to sweet talk, it can either be Theo or…” he went to look at Ted, but when he saw himself staring at the couch instead, he immediately turned to see his brother in the kitchen with the fridge open.

 “Ted…” he closed his eyes.

 “What? I’m hungry and you have good food!” Ted said in defense.

 “We’re doing legal work, you can’t—”

 “Exactly! Law! It’s boring and it makes you hungry.” Ted shrugged, raising his hands, “And it’ll help me focus. Does anyone want anything?”

 Bobby raised a hand slightly. “I’ll take an apple juice.” He said.

 Ted grabbed two instead—the two that were meant for the kids, actually—and threw one to Bobby and began poking the other one open for himself. “See? Law makes you thirsty.”

 “You said hungry at first.”

“Same thing,” Ted popped it open, and began noisily slurping, and Jack couldn’t stop the fondly exasperated smile that crossed his face. Even if his baby brother could be a nuisance they were family, and family acted like family. Ted may not have been serious like his other brothers and he may not have had the same experience in certain fields but he was still a Kennedy.

 Kennedy’s stuck together.

 “I wonder if this guy would agree that hunger and thirst are the same thing,” Bobby commented, sipping at the juice slowly. Jack drank his coffee instead—he didn’t need apple juice like a child, even if it did taste really good, and even if he did occasionally drink five in a row when he was feeling tired.

 Ted huffed out a chuckle, twirling the limited-mobility straw inside of the box. “Yeah, well, if he did, then that’s the only thing we have in common.”

 “Only insane people consider them the same,” Jack said.

 “I’m a mental patient then.”

 “Yeah, we know you are,” both Bobby and Jack said at the same time, and the only thing in return was the middle finger from their youngest brother.

-

 As it got later, they kept working, and eventually it got dark enough to turn the lights on. Bobby took off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up, Ted loosened his tie, and Jack simply stayed comfortable in his long sleeve. The papers were mostly sorted and Jefferson was beginning to get whatever information they had. Bit by bit, Bobby emailed it to him, either as photographs or PDFs or text. It was all as complex as it could have been. To Jack, it was necessary; add in all the details now so you don’t have to email them once again.

 He let the two go into the kitchen and open up a sleek bottle of old wine while he contemplated when to call Abraham. His phone was charged and ready to go, the only thing he needed to do was successfully call and hopefully get an answer back. If not he could call again or leave a voicemail, but who really knew how quickly Abraham would see it? Abraham usually responded quickly so he wasn’t too worried, though, and his thumb continued to hover over the green and white call icon like it held him from death or success. A gamble. A riskless gamble at that, but a gamble of words. Would he be able to think of them on the fly or stumble through?

 It didn’t matter in the end, because he hit the button without prompting, and held the phone up to his ear.

Ring…

Ring…

 He should’ve waited. It was obvious, nobody would answer this late, it was ten at night for god’s sakes, nobody was—

“Jack?”

 Abraham was up, actually.

 Jack took in a breath. “Hey, Abraham,” he released said breath and stuffed a hand into his pocket, before realizing his brothers were definitely not against eavesdropping and cupped the bottom of the phone. He was at least relieved that Abraham sounded a little bit less stressed. It was still there and still prevalent, but he didn’t mind it as much. He loved the man’s voice still. Even if he was stressed, even if he was on the edge of losing it, Abraham could calm him down within seconds. It could have been love. Maybe the idea wasn’t so bad.

 “Why’re you calling so late? Is everything fine, you and the kids safe?” Abraham must’ve shuffled and sat up, the sound of ruffling on the other side of the speaker.

 “Yeah, yeah,” Jack said, “of course. The kids are with Jackie. I was just calling to check on you.”

 Abraham chuckled. “Well I’m all right. I was actually about to sleep. Long day, shopping and worrying, both things tire the hell out of you. What’re you doing?”

 Jack felt a small smile appear onto his face and his cheeks heated the slightest bit. “Uh, Bobby, my brother, and Ted, my other brother, came over. We’re sorting out the law part of all of this stuff. I’ll need you over soon to sign some stuff, but other than that, I’ve been enjoying coffee.”

 “That’s good, that’s good,” Abraham said. He sounded distant. “I’m still sorry about this whole thing. Getting you involved… I didn’t want that.”

 “But I wanted to,” Jack replied, a small frown replacing the smile. “I wanted to help because I care, and we care.”

 “Who’s we?”

 “Me, Bobby, we all do, y’know. Jackie even offered help. She was madly disappointed when she couldn’t.”

 Abraham sighed and the speaker barely picked it up. “I don’t want to get anyone involved because I don’t want them getting hurt by this too. I mean, with what they have, are you sure you—you really want to help? What if they get something on you, or Jackie, or—” he stopped and exhaled. “You matter too much to me, Jack.”

 Jack held the phone tighter. “You matter to me too, Abraham. Far… far too much. Listen, can—are you available tomorrow? I’ll need your signature. Some documents, it’s not too much. We can see each other in person if that helps convince you?”

 “I’m—I’m just scared Jack,” Abraham said, and it sounded as if he was holding back tears. “I don’t—I don’t want this to get out. I can’t afford…”

 “It won’t, Abraham, I swear,” Jack swore. He was set on this. He had to help. The desperation, the fear, the horror in Abraham’s voice was too much. He had to, it was his one mission. If anything went wrong he’d take full responsibility and all of the consequence. As long as Abraham was all right then he would lose everything he had without hesitation. Love was too much. Love was too hard for him now. He could do it then, but this time, this time, he was stuck, he was stuck in sinking sand and he would never escape.

 “Jack, you can’t promise that.” Abraham countered. “You can’t swear it or promise it. There’s no way.”

 “There is. I mean, Abraham, I’m a Kennedy, and it may not mean much to you, but in this family we get what we want.” Jack firmly said and sent a spare glance to his brothers to make sure they weren’t looking. They were still occupied by the wine they found and quietly talking in the kitchen on stools. He could say what he wanted. “In this family it may be image above all else, but to me, it’s family above all else. And you’re family.”

 “Really?”

 “Really. More than.”

 Abraham sniffled on the other side, and he seemed to be crying, now, because Jack heard a heartbreaking little whimper. “Thanks, Jack.” But even then he sounded as if he was smiling.

 “You’re welcome, Abraham. Any time.”

 “I just don’t want to risk anyone, you know? You, my kids, your kids, your family… I can handle it if I really need to.”

 “You’re not going to,” Jack shook his head. “not if I can help you with this entire case and get you the justice you deserve.”

 “You can help with finances but I really don’t—”

 “Please?” Jack pleaded, and he knew he was possibly using Abraham’s own mind against him, but he needed to help. He had to. He’d help the ones he loved as much as he could no matter what. No matter what it took or cost.

 “…All right.”

 Jack sighed in relief. “Thank you. Abraham, just… tell me you’ll be here tomorrow, just to sign stuff, nothing else, don’t worry.”

 A shuffle from the other side. “I’ll be there. Will your brothers still be there as well?”

 He looked back. Still with wine, still talking. “Probably, yeah. Before I go, can I tell you something?”

 Abraham chuckled, sniffed, “Anything.”

 “We all inhabit this small planet, we all breathe the same air, we all cherish our children’s future, and we are all mortal. So don’t feel bad about needing help and don’t be scared, okay? I’m there. I’m here for you. We’re all humans and it’s okay to worry, but not cause unnecessary fear in your brain.”

 …

 Abraham sniffled and let out a small laugh. “You can’t possibly drop wisdom like that on me and act like it’s a normal phone conversation.”

 Jack smiled once more. It was all right again. For now. “Well, I did. Goodnight, Abraham.”

 “Goodnight, Jack.”

 The call dropped, and he put his phone into his pocket. He took a deep breath. His heart was pounding, but it didn’t matter. Abraham needed that, and maybe Jack did too.

 He turned and headed for the kitchen, quietly stepping in. The light above was on yet all of them were dimmed. It made a comfy, cozy, chill atmosphere, and it was similar to a small local bar that never really got into any brawls. Jack liked it. He watched Bobby and Ted converse, both nursing a glass of wine in their hand, Ted’s having less than Bobby’s.

 “How do you think this’ll go?” Ted muttered.

 Bobby sipped at the warm red wine. “As it will. We can’t predict the future, but we can build the path of it.”

 “That’s quite true, but… what if we build a crooked path?”

 “Then we try to right it as much as we can.”

 Ted took a sip, almost leaving nothing in the glass. He set it on the counter with a light clink. “What charges are we still sure about?”

 Bobby chuckled. “I thought we already said it. Extortion and harassment. We can argue about emotional charges when we’re in court, but we have to really get extortion through to make a case.” He took a long drink and swished around the last bit of liquid. He wasn’t as much of a drinker as Ted was. Ted wasn’t a boozer, necessarily. He was functioning and he could go a while without any alcohol. But whiskey, wine, champagne, it was tempting. One of these days Jack swore he’d mess up and something would go wrong. He’d never say it, but he’d gotten close to confiding in Jackie about it once or twice.

 “Good thing you remember them, huh?”

 Jack, instead, took another step forward and shoved his hands into his pockets. “At least one of us can.”

 Bobby and Ted both jumped, and Bobby leaned back while he turned his gaze to Jack. “Were you listening in?”

 Jack smiled. His brother knew him well. “One Kennedy has to, otherwise we aren’t as good at eavesdropping as we think.” He walked over to the row of wine glasses on the kitchen counter, grabbed one and gestured for the bottle the two had between themselves. Ted handed it to him and he opened it to pour himself a bit of wine. “I spoke to Abraham.”

 Ted’s eyes lit up with interest. “What’d he say?”

 Jack drank some of the now-poured wine. “He’ll come over tomorrow, sign some documents, and probably talk a little bit. He’ll get the kids a sitter, or something.”

 “Hm.” Bobby took a last sip of his wine, emptying the glass, “You mentioned damage control earlier.”

 “Yeah, like I said, assemblyman. …in fact,” Jack quickly pulled his phone out and after passing a page on Google, he found a clear image, and practically shoved the phone in Bobby’s face. “here. This is what he looks like.” But then he pulled back—even with the pills, extending his arms for too long could hurt a bit. Bobby was silent for a minute. He grabbed Jack’s phone (Jack was entirely caught off guard) and began looking up very specific keywords added to Theodore’s name.

 Jack stifled a laugh. “Are you really going to look up everyone involved?

 “Yes, I will,” Bobby mumbled absentmindedly.

 Jack drank the wine and licked the bits of it off of his lips. “What’s next, you’ll look up Grant now?”

…

 Bobby bookmarked Theodore’s page and was instantly looking up everybody named Grant in a five-mile radius. Jack sighed fondly. His brother did the most research as he could for things like this; to be honest, it was as much of a comfort as it was unnecessary. Jack probably knew what Bobby wanted to know. All he’d have to do is ask Jack, and he’d happily supply any answers. But Bobby was focusing intently on the phone screen already so maybe he could let his brother do it just this once.

 Jack offered the wine bottle to Ted. Ted took it with a nod, refilled his own glass, and handed it back to Jack, who added only a little bit into his glass before he corked the bottle. The wine was good, and he wasn’t letting it go to waste. That would be a bad idea. He could buy more, but hey, it was good wine, and he was certain that finding the specific brand at the specific age would be hard. And from somewhere that wouldn’t take five months to ship and another seven to get to his house.

 “Ulyss—”

 “Yes, him, Bobby, and before you ask, no, I am not trying to get a sugar daddy,” Jack said very plainly. Bobby already had that look on his face and he cracked a small impish smile.

 “They’re all older, y’know. How can I be so sure?” he put the phone down and grabbed his glass again, swishing around nothing, merely doing it to occupy his hands. “I mean, I’m not judging.”

 “You’d be judging nothing because I’m not,” Jack said and sipped at the last bits of wine in his glass. “Now, you two better be on your best behavior tomorrow. Abraham will be here. As the oldest brother, I have the right to scold both of you like children if you’re immature.”

 Ted looked amused. “What, as if we’re five?”

 “Yes.”

 “Well, I’ll be pulling all of the protective stops, just to make sure he’s the right one for you.” Bobby fixed his tie. He could be protective when he wanted, relaxed when he didn’t, and as the press called it, ruthless if he needed. Jack appreciated it. At least, he appreciated that Bobby was not actively searching every single person he came into contact with.

 Jack sighed and finished off his glass. It hit the counter with a clink. “I’m pretty sure he is.” Then he realized what he was saying and his cheeks heated, a flash of lightning dancing through his nerves, both the wine and his mind conjuring up some images he’d rather never share with anyone. “If he even likes me like that. He doesn’t, I’m willing to bet. And that’s fine with me.” Even if it wouldn’t have been, at all.

 Bobby chuckled. “A coffee date? A cheek kiss? All of this help and letting you stay over? Please. He likes you, I just want to make sure he likes you.”

 “Wait, what?” Ted suddenly added, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Oh, of course, Jack hadn’t found time to tell Ted about it. He’d entirely forgotten. Whatever Bobby and Jackie heard, Ted must’ve gotten from them. Well, Jackie more than Bobby, really.

 Jack sighed again. Leave it to Bobby to bring that stuff up. “At the start of our friendship, before I knew I loved him, he asked me to get coffee, and it was not a date.” He shot a glare at Bobby. “It was just something between friends. He kissed me on the cheek. I’ve kissed him on the cheek, too, it’s no big deal, he does it with all of his friends, apparently.” He watched Bobby look easily surprised.

 “Really? You kissed him on the cheek?”

 “Yes, and only the cheek. We shared a bed for a night.” And remembering why, he closed his eyes and hissed out a swear under his breath. “I’ll have to get to work on those medical bills too.”

 “Medical bills?”

 “Yeah, Willie, one of his kids, hurt his leg, and it’s going to cost a horrible lot of money to get those bills out of the way. I can pay them easily, I just have to convince Abraham to let me.” Jack walked over to the sink and began cleaning his glass out with cold water. “He’s not too keen on letting people help him more than he thinks they should, but if I keep offering—like I did with the court payments—then he’ll probably let me pay for the medical bills too. Those things can get needlessly high.”

 “That’s what I’m working on,” Ted mumbled, clearing out the rest of his glass satisfied, licking the rest off his lips. “well, partially.”

 “Yeah. Even if it takes you until you’re in your eighties.” Bobby teased. Ted rolled his eyes and smiled.

 “I’ll do what I need to.”

 Jack finished cleaning his glass and put it down. He’d do the dishes when he had time. “We should sleep. It’s getting late, and we’re all tired.”

 Bobby nodded and Ted shrugged. They both agreed with him, it was quite obvious. Jack made sure nothing was left out and he spied a text message notification on his phone screen. He snatched it before Bobby could see.

 JackieButNotJackson

[cutejohnny.png] he’s all tired out in the middle, with his plush. Love our boy. :)

 John-John was in the middle backseat, clinging to a plush tiger, looking conked out beyond belief. A fidget toy sat in his lap. His hair was partially covering his face. The lighting wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst. Jack smiled softly. His children were his world in every sense of the word. He relied on them like he did the bare essentials of living.

 Jackinthebox

How’s my buttons?

 JackieButNotJackson

[carolinedarling.png] just as tired as her brother.

 Caroline was in the corner of the backseat, the lighting worse, and her head rested on the window. She looked adorable. Patrick sat in her lap, sleeping like his sister, and a binkie in his stubby little fingers. Jack’s smile only grew bigger.

 Jackinthebox

Awwww. G’night, Jackie, tell em I said goodnight.

  JackieButNotJackson

Of course. G’night bunny.

 Unfortunately, since Jack’s bed was far too small and there were no extra good-sized mattresses, his brothers had to sleep on the couch. Jack didn’t have many spare blankets that he could use for them and he found what he could, resulting in a pink blanket from Caroline’s room, and… that was it. Bobby managed to cover himself with his suit jacket and it covered his chest and stomach, cutting off right at his hips, arms of the jacket slightly covering him. He was curled up in the corner on the couch and almost snoring, head resting on the arm of the couch.

 Ted was sprawled out and snoring, Caroline’s little blanket covering only his stomach. While Bobby slept like a normal person and kept his button-up and pants on (he took the tie off), Ted went boxers-only. Jack told him as long as the blanket covered what it should have, it was fine.

 Jack woke up early.

 He stretched first and yawned, hair slightly falling in front of his face. He rubbed at his eye and got up—his spine only shot a small bit of pain up his back this time. He was grateful for that, even if his spine wasn’t supposed to hurt in the first place. The first thing he did that morning was take his pills.

  He took a shower right after. When he stepped in, the water—not too hot or cold, too hot it’d overwhelm his back, too cold it’d hurt—ran down him in graceful streams and he could relax for the first time. He ran both his hands up his face, slicking his hair back with water. It felt wonderful. His muscles loosened and his back felt… good, for once. It either felt neutral or it hurt; never good. Never like that. He took a deep breath and looked down. He stared at the drain. Eventually he actually did what he had to and got the shampoo and conditioner in his hair, both smells mixing smoothly, and after washing his body he still stood there for one moment, one second, and let himself get lost in the water and the sounds of it hitting the walls and sliding over his face.

 Jack got out not too long after and it was still early. He didn’t take enormously long showers. If anyone did, it was Ted, if he was in no rush or he didn’t have a busy schedule. There were times when Jack and Bobby were banging on the door at one point and he denied access because he was still showering. Bobby almost turned the sink on just to get him out quicker.

 He put a polo shirt on and some khakis, slipping on a pair of dress shoes just for the occasion of Abraham coming by, and made sure his hair was perfect before leaving the room. He went down the stairs quietly. Bobby and Ted were likely still asleep. When he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he was correct. Both brothers were asleep on the couch at peace with the world. Jack only walked over to fix Ted’s blanket and make sure Bobby was alive (he felt like it) before creeping to the kitchen to get some coffee for himself. He’d make some for Bobby and Ted, too.

 He chose the blue mug for Bobby and the green one for Ted, grabbing his favorite bi-flag mug and filling it with delicious warm coffee. The smell was great. It was, rare as it was, perfect and not too bitter or too sweet. He enjoyed taking the first sip. Small obviously—it was still hotter than the seventh ring of hell.

 He pulled his phone from his khaki pants and saw one text from Abraham.

 Soulheart

Hey. Going to be here in about an hour. Good morning by the way. :)

Jack

Alright. Good morning to you too. :)

 Jack smiled and put his phone back into his pocket, glad the smiley face was there once more. He felt a small concern of weight fall off his shoulders. One small sip of his coffee, and he was leaning against the counter, waiting for his brothers to eventually wake up. His alarm would be going off soon. Hopefully it’d be loud enough from upstairs to wake them. Ted may’ve been a heavy sleeper and Bobby was tired as all living hell, but that alarm could wake a dead man.

 He let himself relax and take a few deep breaths. Most of his day would’ve been spent working, or talking, or doing something, but as Abraham’s friend, Mr. Washington gave him a few days off since he must’ve known Jack was helping. Abraham had to have told him about it. And Jackie had the kids so he wouldn’t have to focus on school or making sure nothing was broken or nobody got hurt. Everybody in the house now were adults—meaning if they got hurt, it wasn’t as seriously concerning, depending on the type of wound, of course. In fact, Jackie was probably in his exact place. Coffee and waiting for the kids to wake up. Or maybe they were already up. Sometimes Jack was woken up by them instead.

 He took another sip. Damn.

 In the end it seemed like even if their marriage didn’t work, she and Jack were still inseparable. They were always… together. If not romantically. Now it was like they were best friends, close, willing to fight the world for the other and do it without hesitation. Jack knew he’d do it. He would take on everyone for her and there was no doubt she’d do the same. If Icarus got too close to the sun and fell regrettably, then Jackie was one of the things keeping Jack from getting too close to the sun, too.

 The rest of his spaced-out thoughts were scattered and usually ended in another sip when the bitter aftertaste overtook his mind. He didn’t have many important things to think about. Rather, it was small things he only looked upon when he was able to.

 But then he heard a small groan from the couch and his eyes were fixed upon the moving body in an instant. Bobby was up.

 Bobby slowly stretched up and yawned, rubbing his eye with a fist and running his hands down his face, taking a deep breath and adjusting to the real world again. The small sounds of life around him and the smells and the temperature. Jack smiled. He was never upset to see his brother wake up, and he already had coffee prepared; Bobby wouldn’t have to lift a finger for it other than whatever add-ins he wanted. Bobby swallowed and got up, knees cracking just a bit.

 “G’morning.” He said. Sleep still coated his voice thickly.

 “Morning,” Jack replied. “I made some coffee for both of you. The blue mug is yours.”

 Bobby nodded in thanks and walked over slowly, past Jack, and grabbed the mug to begin adding what he needed. “Any update on the kids?”

 Jack took a sip. “Jackie sent me some pictures.” He put the mug down and held his phone with both hands, pulling up the picture of John-John that she sent him. Bobby turned to look and it took his sleepy mind a second to process it but once he did, he smiled softly.

 “Adorable.”

 “And then there’s Caroline,” he switched to the photo of his eldest and his youngest, Bobby’s smile only growing. He loved his nieces and nephews beyond words and they loved him right back. Maybe because he missed his own kids in the moment, but even then, he cared for Jack’s kids like his own.

 “Still adorable. I see Patrick’s on her lap.”

 “Yeah,” Jack pulled the phone back and turned it off to let it sit in his pocket, picking his mug back up and drinking the coffee that had reached the halfway point of the mug. Ted would be up soon, probably. His small snores were the only indication he was still asleep. Bobby was stirring something into his coffee with a spoon and the slight clink of the spoon against the glass mug wasn’t annoying. If anything, it was relaxing. A normal slow morning. Abraham would be there soon, though, and so he added, “Abraham will be here soon, I suggest we wake him up and then shower.”

 “In order of?”

 “Eldest to youngest. It’s my house.”

 “…But favorite brother to eldest brother?”

 “…That’s a different story but for right now it’s eldest to youngest, my house, my rules,” Jack noisily drank the majority of coffee to make a point. Ted lightly shifted on the couch, body reacting before his mind. His hand slightly curled into the blanket. …And Jack might have taken a photo of his adult brother hugging a toddler blanket, maybe he did that (he did).

 Bobby snorted and went over to Jack’s side, leaning against the counter with him. “Yeah, all right. Unless we fight for it?”

 “For first shower?”

 “Exactly that. I can take you in a fight.”

 Jack laughed. “Really now? And you wouldn’t fall on your ass and fail?”

 Bobby pushed him lightly with a nudge, but smiled. “I wouldn’t fail. I could win in a fight against you and Ted.”

 “Not only would I win naturally, but a football player? Please, you’ll get crushed. Enjoy the cold shower, it’s not like you’ll be last.” Jack drained his mug of the last bits of coffee, enjoying its last bits of taste and letting the mug sit on the counter and out of his hands.

 Bobby sipped at his. “Want to test that? We can wrestle right there on the ground and I’ll win.”

 “You’ll lose and be begging for me to not break your arm.”

 “I’ll be winning and then you will be the one begging for me to not break your arm.”

 “Who’s the serious lawyer again?”

 “Who’s helping their boyfriend—” Bobby’s hair was ruffled roughly and he retaliated by ruffling Jack’s, two wide smiles appearing on their faces, and Jack pulled him by the arm to drag both of them into the living room and onto the floor. He turned at the last moment so he didn’t hit the floor and Bobby did instead, a loud laugh coming from said man, and they had a contest of who could ruffle the other’s hair the best. Bobby was reaching up at an awkward angle that nearly broke his arm and Jack could barely see, so he was going in blind and hoping he didn’t poke his brother’s eyes out.

 “I’m getting the shower!” Bobby exclaimed from the floor. Jack propped himself up but Bobby took his chance to climb over Jack, but fell and they both hit the floor. Jack was thankfully on the living room carpet—his back didn’t immediately snap up with pain and instead he groaned fondly and pushed up, trying to wiggle away from his brother.

 “Try not to break my back!” He said, but his smile stayed on his face, and he reached to ruffle Bobby’s hair one last time before he managed to get up. Bobby laid on the floor and groaned. Jack wiped imaginary dust off and fixed his hair the best he could.

 However, it seemed their ‘fighting’ woke Ted up, and far before they noticed, because he was sitting up, smiling. “Bobby, I would probably end your life if you tried to fight me.”

 Bobby flinched from the sudden voice and tried to get up, but he decided the floor was comfy enough and his head hit the carpet with a quiet thump. “I can take both of you in a fight to the death.”

 “And become a sacrifice,” Ted replied, grabbing his crumpled clothes from the floor and slipping them on. He brushed his hair out of his face and got up, the blanket sliding off, but he grabbed it and put it onto the couch so it didn’t hit the carpet. He went into the kitchen instantly and grabbed the green mug. “Thanks, Jack.”

 Jack nodded. “Welcome. But we have to shower, Abraham’s coming soon so hurry up.”

 “Eldest to youngest?” Ted grabbed a creamer packet. “You wound me.”

 Jack rolled his eyes but started heading for the bathroom. “I may wound you but you can withstand a little bit of cold water.”

 Even though he already showered, he decided to shower again, both out of spite and because he was definitely covered in carpet fuzz and his hair was messy. His clothing could be switched. His shoes, well, those would be the same. And it was cold, so a polo shirt wasn’t the best idea. He didn’t take too long and got out within ten minutes. One shower already meant he wasn’t too dirty. Bobby must’ve appreciated it, since he zoomed past with Ted screeching behind him about “DO NOT LOOK AT MY MESSAGES—” and his phone presumably in the bathroom with Bobby. Jack just avoided the chaos as must as he could.

 One dark blue crewneck, grey jeans and the same shoes later, Jack was sitting comfortably on the couch, one of John’s stuffed animals in his grasp. The fighting and admittedly relaxing shower (the thick crewneck helped) left him cozy and ready to sleep an extra three hours. But unfortunately, that was no option.

 Bobby got out and put the same clothing back on, definitely wanting to be professional and leave a good impression on Abraham. He wasn’t worried. No, of course not, he had no reason to be. But he wanted to prove that if this guy really did marry his brother, then he was going to have to pass the brother-in-law-check. If he didn’t then Jack would not in fact be marrying him. And it turned out good as far as romantic partners went. Any that didn’t pass the check turned out to be different than they portrayed, and the only one who fully passed was Jackie, and Jack had three angels because of her. She herself was an angel. So if his check had worked on them, it’d work on Abraham.

 Ted was only a bit taller so he nabbed one of Jack’s ties (his was crumpled) and stared in the mirror for about ten minutes before Jack pounded on the door and said, “We have little time to stare and think about random shit or Joan, come out of there.” and he came out with his phone in hand and then his mug as well.

 Jack waited on the couch, Bobby opened his briefcase, and Ted was acting like this wasn’t serious by scrolling on his phone and drinking coffee.

 Until the doorbell rang and Jack almost wished he could launch himself into goddamn space.

 “Jack, do not freak out,” Bobby mouthed to him, and Jack barely comprehended it before he got up and unlocked the door. Ted’s scrolling stopped and it was beyond obvious he was listening in on everything going on. Jack’s hands opened the door—not really his body as much as it was on autopilot—and then there was Abraham, wearing a deep maroon turtleneck that fit him perfectly and looking nervous. But he wore a smile Jack would have dropped for if he hadn’t seen it so much.

 Regardless of the pounding in his chest, he said first, “Thanks for coming by, Abraham.”

 Abraham nodded and hesitantly opened his arms for a hug. Jack stepped into it without thinking. “No problem, Jack. I mean, I need to for any legal help, but it’s nice to see you as well.”

 Jack swallowed and chuckled. “Yeah.” He let Abraham walk in and he shut the door behind themselves, keys dropping into his pocket, and he let himself stand still to watch the interaction between Bobby and Abraham. Even though he told himself that Bobby would be normal about it, rational, part of him still worried that his brother would go too far. It didn’t seem like Bobby, but protectivity over family ruled above everything else. He would have been messing with his sleeves if he wasn’t focusing so much on them.

 Bobby adopted a stiff look on his face, formal but willing to cooperate if Abraham passed his imaginary test. He held a hand out. “Robert Kennedy.”

 Abraham took his hand and the firm shake was already a good nod in the right direction. “Abraham Lincoln.”

 “Jack has told me about you,” Bobby pulled back and fixed his suit jacket. Abraham wasn’t intimidated, and for a second Bobby cursed his height.

 “I’d hope he was truthful about whatever he said.”

 “He has been,” Bobby looked at Jack. Smiled subtly. “in most cases.”

 Jack was about to end him.

 Abraham caught Ted’s look from the chair, and he stepped to the side and passed Bobby to hold a hand out to the youngest Kennedy brother. “I don’t think Jack’s told me about you.” He said. Ted put the mug and his phone down and shook his hand hastily but firmly.

 “Unsurprising. Just call me Ted.”

 Abraham’s smile grew just a bit. “It’s nice to meet you, Ted.”

 “Likewise,” Ted replied. He was obviously eager to watch his brother interact with the man, if the little crush said anything, and it would’ve been lovely to just give them the push they needed.

 “So,” Bobby clapped his hands together before anything else could happen. “Can we get started?”

 “Oh, yeah, where do…?” Abraham trailed off. He looked around, as if he wasn’t sure where to sit. Jack pointed to his chair without thinking.

 “You can take my seat—?”

 “No, no I’ll—” Abraham saw the seat right across from Jack’s and pointed at that one. “That, I’ll sit there,” he sat down into it and Jack took two long steps to get back to his own chair. It felt weird to be so relaxed already but, maybe Abraham just had that effect.

 “Comfy.”

 “Yeah, I know,” Jack said. He didn’t understand why he was already smiling.

 Bobby cleared his throat and rounded the table to pick up a piece of paper, the laptop still inside of the briefcase yet ready to be opened. “So, first, we just need you to sign this.” He handed it to Abraham. Abraham took it and scanned it over briefly, but he already knew what it was about. Bobby handed him a black ink pen as well. The red must’ve been for other markings. Abraham signed and Bobby took both items back, putting the paper down.

 “Now, all of us know that some information is considered lawyer-client only, right?”

 But Abraham caught on. “But if Thomas will be my lawyer, and I have you in the background, I’ll need to tell you everything as well, regardless.” He commented. Bobby nodded.

 “Are you all right with the, ah, damage control Jack mentioned?”

 “I brought it up.”

 “And if anything happens? What about the children?”

 Abraham and Jack both looked fairly confused at that. “I—I mean, I have multiple… options. I have a friend, Grant, who will take the children in. After that, I have another friend—Theodore—if Grant can’t do it. My last option will be their mother.” and then he looked over to create eye contact with Jack, “After Theodore, I’d trust Jack with them.” He sounded sincere. Softly honest. Jack’s heart took half a second longer to beat, then, and he broke the eye contact to stare at his lap.

 But Abraham added, “Why is that a concern?” with skeptic in his voice.

 Bobby shrugged. “We can never be too sure. Some people get vengeful when another approaches with legal problems, or tries to take them out before the court really puts them both to trial. Illegally by themselves or illegally by a hitman.”

 Abraham leaned back. “That makes sense, but I don’t think he’d do that. At this point it’d be obvious.”

 “Yes,” Bobby said, before sighing, “and now I have to ask you what their name is.”

…

 “What if I… tried to just—get him to not, release—just—” Abraham was looking for an excuse. Jack could sense misplaced longing and a bit of desperation in his tone, but Jack didn’t want him to like this person who was on the edge of ruining his entire life. That wasn’t good.

 “Abraham,” Jack said. Abraham’s beautiful eyes met his and he forced himself to extend a hand, and their hands linked together. “we won’t force you right now, but at some point, we need to know. We need to. They will, no matter what, and as your friend, I want to make sure we can help you.” Describing himself as a friend only stung just a little bit. But the shine and the appreciation in the taller man’s eyes was all he needed.

 It’s only five seconds before Abraham mumbles, “Alexander Stephens.”

 Bobby’s hand was flying for Ted’s phone before Ted could grab it.

 “Georgia Bar right?” he deadpanned, fingers flying at the speed of light across the small keyboard on the screen. That was the lawyer in Bobby, that was the part of him ready to take on an entire horde of people and not break a sweat.

 “Yeah.”

 Bobby was pulling up Wikipedia in those three seconds and he walked over, kneeling down and shoving the screen in Abraham’s face. “This one. This guy, right?” on the screen was—in Jack’s opinion—a basic, normal man, a small bit of information, and not much else. But knowing what that bastard was doing made him uglier than anything else Jack had ever seen. Abraham nodded wordlessly.

 “Taliaferro?”

 Another nod.

 Bobby got up and put the phone down onto the table. He grabbed the laptop and flipped it open, opening up the thread between him and Jefferson to give the man the news. Jack rubbed his thumb over Abraham’s long fingers, trying to provide a sense of comfort. Ted reached for his phone once and Bobby slapped his hand away, muttering not to mess with his evidence. Ted got up to get Abraham a thing of apple juice instead.

 “Thank you,” Jack said.

 “You were right, I shouldn’t be getting a thank you for doing that.”

 “Yeah, but you didn’t keep going with the second-chance narrative. And I know deep down you still care for him. So yes, you deserve a thank you.” Jack replied, and he was glad that he hadn’t had any of the wine so far, because part of him wanted to lean in and kiss Abraham right there. And that part of his brain needed to shut the fuck up because he wasn’t going to ruin the moment. Or his friendship. Not because his hormones said to kiss his best friend.

 Abraham managed a small smile. “Thanks, Jack.”

 “You are beyond welcome.”

 It was heartwarming until an apple juice box was thrust right by Jack’s head. “Can you hand this to him?”

 Jack closed his eyes, denied murdering his brother, and grabbed the box from Ted’s hand with the straw attached and handed it to Abraham. Abraham was quickly distracted by poking the straw in, and Jack sent his brother a death glare. Ted smiled and did a double thumbs-up in response.

 Bobby seemingly finished his research and began, “We can get a week-court-date at the earliest but we’ll need to be fully prepared.”

 “As in…?” Jack trailed off.

 “All members on board, damage control ready, paperwork and evidence ready, and every single word thoughtfully planned out.” Bobby turned to Abraham. “I may need to see what he sent you.”

 Abraham’s hand paused mid-poke of the straw. “…You do?”

 “Either I see it now, or I see it in court.”

 With a deep breath, Abraham pulled his phone out and opened up his contacts, shying away from everyone else’s gaze and pulling up what it was to show it to Bobby. Bobby gently took the phone and studied it like he would a bug under a microscope. He looked to be sympathetic. “I see.” He handed the phone back to Abraham and it was back inside of the man’s pocket. “I’ll tell Jefferson we’ll need a bit more time. If I’m correct, he’s already sent the lawsuit in and we’ll need to hope it’s a fast process.”

 “If it’s not?” Ted said.

 “Then this will be haunting us for far longer than we wish.”

 Jack mumbled, “How lighthearted.”

 “All right, well,” Bobby clapped his hands together and went back over to the laptop. “I guess we should start contacting courts and legal aides.”

 They spent a couple of hours researching courts, legal aides, any advice forums (though it wasn’t really needed), and adding up the initial cost and any possible additional expenses. As far as Jack was concerned it wouldn’t cost enough to put a dent in his money. If it did, oh well. It would’ve been worth it. Entirely. Just the feel of Abraham’s hand in his was enough to get his heart racing. It reminded him of those days with Jackie, before they’d really confessed. Before they married. Shy touches and small chuckles and wanting. This was different surely but it was still love in the end and he found himself watching Abraham for nearly the entirety of their work.

 When they took a break to get drinks, snacks, or extra comfort, Abraham managed enough courage to speak to Jack privately in the kitchen. Bobby and Ted were upstairs and discussing the smaller details of the entire case. It was probably already sent through. Now, all they needed was a date, a solid case, and that fucking lawsuit would be theirs to win. Abraham was leaning on the counter with Jack, arms folded together, watching the shorter man check his messages one last time before putting his phone in his pocket.

 “Nothing new?” Abraham said.

 “No,” Jack replied. “I just messaged Jackie but that’s really it.”

 Abraham nodded and cleared his throat, heart beating through his chest, and he wondered if this was really what he wanted to do. He could just say something else or stay silent and just be. But he had to address it, before this got out of hand, if something did happen, maybe Bobby was right, and he opened his mouth without thinking. “Jack, before this blows up I just…”

 Jack turned to him and Abraham turned as well, both of them looking the other in the eyes, Jack’s confused and ready to hear whatever he said. Abraham’s nervous and anxious. “I just wanted to say…”

 Abraham hesitated, and Jack noticed. “Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

 …

 He took a deep breath. “Jack, I li—”

 “Guys! We have the responses all planned!”

 Abraham jumped and Jack jumped as well, looking over behind his shoulder, before looking back to Abraham. “You know, we can make them wait. They won’t mind much if I let them use my Netflix for a week. What were you going to say?”

 Abraham shook his head. “No, let’s just. See what they’ve got.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yeah.”

  And reluctantly, Jack went upstairs to see what his brothers conjured up, and Abraham internally scolded himself for even thinking it would go as smooth as he had hoped. He followed behind slowly. The stairs were a nice touch, and Jack seemed in tune with his house and his décor choices. Maybe the small little section dedicated to crayon doodles was entirely the kids, though. Or maybe not. He could see Jack being the type of parent who indulged in his children’s games. While he walked across the hall and to the bedroom, he noticed a few framed photos, one of Jack and a horse, the other of all of the children and him at Disneyland, and the other of a small John-John (at least Abraham assumed) cradled in his father’s arms.

  He listened in by the doorway while Bobby read it aloud, both the speeches and answers prepared, and the dates and what it’d be set up like. Obviously Abraham knew his fair share of law—of what it’d be like in a court, given if they really succeeded. He’d read about it, seen it, heard it. Those things stuck with him. That’d helped tremendously. If he hadn’t a clue of what it was like, he’d probably be sitting, wringing his hands nervously. But he was listening contently and calmly to information about a case that could decide his path.

 That sounded a bit dramatic, but it really wasn’t. The city wasn’t big but it wasn’t small; news traveled fast, and he’d worked so hard to build up what he had. What would the kids think? Would they be disgusted or uncomfortable or angry? Whatever it was, he would have to simply accept it. No matter if it hurt. Abraham shifted and crossed his arms mid-thought.

 But even if it was nerve-wracking, they’d get through it. His hand itched to dial up Ulysses or Theodore, tell them more, but instead he watched, and listened, and absorbed.

-

 The earliest date they could snag was five days. Yes, it was hasty and most cases would be drawn out, but it had gone so smoothly and straightforward and they had all they needed. The other legal team, the bastard’s, was quick to respond. Stephens himself was a lawyer—that meant he could deal with it all himself. He didn’t need to pay as much as Abraham would have if Jack didn’t step in. Jack didn’t register how much money it was until he had to input his PIN and even then, he didn’t care. He couldn’t. Why would he? It was helping a friend and it was worth it.

 He brought Jackie up-to-date with what was happening and told her she’d probably have to take the kids mid-week and he’d have to take a few days off work, both to relax and actually be there in court. He ironed his best suit, got new shoes (he didn’t need to but he was itching for another pair), and trimmed some longer bits of hair to make sure it was perfect. He practiced his reflexes in case he was asked anything important and was calling Bobby every hour on the same minute to ask for any new information.

 Jefferson was caught up and preparing electronic documents and paper documents, meeting with Bobby, and Jack kept their own interaction to a minimum. He knew holding petty grudges was stupid. But Bobby would be taking the Virginian to court anyway after this, so it didn’t really matter in the end. That would be an interesting case for sure. For now, he was thinking of what Abraham was going to tell him.

 What was it? Was it something very important or something to say later? Abraham seemed insistent, desperate to just get it out. Was it what he was going to say earlier around the time when Jack was first told about the entire problem? It sounded the same. It must have been. He’d get it out, he’d get it out of the man this time. No interruptions. No distractions. Just them, and words, and a calm without any storm. Jack had a few things to say to him, too. The deep longing in his chest was still there. A heavy rock in his chest, growing, and growing, demanding to be let out and heard. If Abraham didn’t say what he wanted to first, Jack was going to, whether it be sober or mildly tipsy.

 The thought nearly made him laugh. Drunkenly confessing to the same person he just helped legally. What a thought, huh?

 But there wasn’t much time. For the rest of the day he worked extra hours, making up for what he’d undoubtedly miss for the trial date. He didn’t need to work. He had far more than enough money. But it felt good to do something, to put his skills to work, to feel like he was doing something for the world. To help people and things and animals was a good feeling. And besides, a little bit of extra cash wasn’t that bad. The job wasn’t too hard or physically demanding (sometimes) and he liked his boss. Mr. Washington was a good man.

 Well. He had a few issues.

 Jack was consistently texting and calling Abraham. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay with Jack no matter how much Jack secretly wished, and just to cheer each other up, they sent pictures of cute animals or the kids being adorable or hilarious. It never failed. It felt… normal, comfortable, to be so close they could send pictures like that and get a laugh or a fun question in response. Like parents sending pictures of their children and enjoying their life together. Together. He wanted him and Abraham to be together. Romantically. Legally.

 He’d tried marriage once. And he would happily do it again.

 The night before the court trial, he stared at his phone screen, an ‘I love you’ text ready to be sent to Abraham. Just three words, three stupid fucking words, and he couldn’t send it. He’d been here before. Waiting, staring, hoping he managed enough courage to actually send it and not just type it only to delete it and act like it never happened. He had gone so long acting, it was time to stop. The next morning decided whether Abraham would be able to take those three words or not. If he lost, being told by his male best friend that they liked him would not be such a good idea. If he won? Jack was going to kiss the man. He’d kiss him and see if he got rejected or if he got kissed back.

 Maybe the picture was just a one-time thing. Had he sworn off men? Sworn off guys and kissing them and being with them? Jack shouldn’t have cared so much. But he did. He cared so, so much. His heart had spent long enough pining over Abraham. Too, too long. The words Abraham hadn’t had time to muster nagged at him and those eyes, watching him, and those hands, on him, and he needed it so bad. He needed it. He wanted it. A craving. Whether it was for Abraham or just touch, Jack couldn’t tell.

 He leaned back and laid back on his bed. He held his arm up and the screen still glowed with its blue light, the eight letters creating a blurry and yet antagonistic sentence.

 He promptly deleted them and went to bed, ready for whatever tomorrow brought him.

-

 Jack woke up with a yawn, back naturally hurting, and his alarm blaring loudly. He tiredly stretched an arm to turn it off. It was six. The trial was at nine. He had time to get coffee, meet with Bobby, Ted and Abraham, and drive to the court building. It was a good hour away.

 He got up and took his pills, washing his face and looking at his own reflection. Eyebags prominent and yet still handsome. He ran a hand through his not-yet-cleaned hair and undressed to take a shower. He’d have to shave whatever little stubble he may’ve had and cut some of the longer strands of hair, making sure it was great-looking. Not only for the court and whatever professional guys would be there, but also for Abraham. He wouldn’t want to look like a mess. Around Bobby and Ted, it was a bit different, but he wasn’t having unevenly cut hair in a court with his crush. That simply wasn’t an option.

 The water was calming—if a bit tiring—and Jack stepped out before he fell asleep in there to get some coffee. A nice, crisp white button-up. An expensive watch he only took out on special occasions. His cleanest, freshly ironed suit jacket was hanging up. He wasn’t going to put it on yet. Ironed black slacks and expensive, custom, leather shoes that were far too expensive for what they were. Soft cashmere socks underneath. He grabbed a basic pair of hair scissors to cut the few back pieces and front pieces, ruffling it a few times to make sure It was fine messy as well. A bit of hair gel and some shave and he was ready for the day. Practicing a bright smile and making sure his phone was charged was the last step.

 He made sure the coffee was brewing before turning his phone on and opening Jackie’s contact.

Jackinthebox

Good morning, can imagine the kids aren’t up yet. Ill update you as we go. Bobby n ted will come w/ Abraham (same car very awkward I can imagine) and we’ll have a quick meeting before hightailing it the fuck out to the court.

He turned and grabbed a mug, beginning to pour his coffee while he waited for a response. It was likely she was up already, the kids would be able to sleep a little bit longer, at least until they had to get up for school. It was weird not having them there, like a missing integral part of his weekly routine was gone and missing. It was. That was why it was unnerving in a way, because he wouldn’t even be up at that point, and he’d be sleeping, and he’d be up almost two hours later getting the kids ready. Instead he was making coffee before a court trial

 Jack got a quick response.

JackieButNotJackson

Good morning Jack! :) The kids aren’t up, no. But I am obviously. I’m having my coffee already. I’ll enjoy those updates + any pictures you can possibly send me, tell me everything!! I’m always here to listen. ALWAYS. I wonder if we’ll be leaving at the same time for school and a court trial?? Anyways, good morning Bunny.

He smiled. Jackie was so positive, even early, and he truly appreciated it considering how tough the day would be for him. Court would be tiring and oddly boring, or he’d be seething at that motherfucker Stephens, aching to punch him in the nose and break it. Maybe he should have. After the case when they won, not if, he would punch him. As long as nobody witnessed. Well, nobody that wasn’t Bobby or Ted. And if everything went right and they had time, he’d kiss Abraham like it was a damn fairytale and see what would happen.

 One sip of coffee, and he felt ten times better. Slightly bitter but sweet, not too sweet though, and just enough caffeine to wake him up. He sent a star emoji to let Jackie know he saw it and slipped his phone back into his pocket, already assured that Bobby and Ted were probably already leaving the five-star hotel they were in to pick up Abraham. Now that he thought about it, it must’ve cost a hell of a lot of money. But then again, he didn’t expect the sudden phone call from Bobby either, with the unmistakable ringtone he’d set.

  “Bobby, why’re you calling so early?” Jack said first, putting the ceramic mug down.

 “Ted wanted to order coffee from the local shop here. Do you want anything?”

 “I’m… having coffee now, I don’t think I need anything.”

 “Are you sure?” in the background, there were vague noises, some like normal sounds of a café and others of talking.

 “Yeah. ‘m sure. How close are you to picking Abraham up?”

 “We won’t be long. Depending on if this takes a while, we’ll be there soon, or we’ll be there in an hour and have to speed down the road to get to court. Are you ready?”

 Jack almost nodded, if he didn’t realize that wouldn’t suffice over the phone. “I’ll just put my suit jacket on once we’re leaving and I’ll be good to go.”

 “All right. See you—preferably—soon.”

 “You too, Bobby.”

 Once the call dropped, he put his phone down in favor of picking the mug back up and drinking. He still couldn’t believe what was happening. A court case, a trial, and all within less than a day. If he survived then it would be a miracle. The real miracle would be winning, but they had a solid case, so maybe it was just based on whether the court was skewed or not. That sounded closer to the truth.

 But Jack had time to think, and he used that time to do just that.

-

 Time seemingly went by quicker when he was thinking, and soon, he heard a knock on the door, accompanied by, “Open up, we don’t have much time.” by Bobby. Jack had already finished his coffee and he went upstairs to get his suit jacket. It was still there, charmingly smooth and handsome, and fit him perfectly. He pulled it off the rack and slipped it on. One adjustment, and making sure his cufflinks were straightened, and he was downstairs again and grabbing his keys.

 “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jack said. He opened the door and was met with Bobby, best suit he had, a briefcase, and a serious look on his face.

 “You’re driving. I can’t call or type on a laptop while I drive, absolutely none of us trust Ted, and Abraham is too shaky to drive.”

 Jack stepped out—the house then cold and empty, no live sign of a Kennedy—and closed the door firmly. “Shaky?” he repeated. Bobby nodded. The second the door locked, Bobby grabbed his hand and pulled him to the car. It wasn’t Bitches-Love-Me-2000, but it was a car, and he was fairly sure he could drive it.

 “How long do we have?”

 “We may have to drive just a little quick, but you’re well at that,” Bobby said. Jack opened the driver’s door and Bobby slipped into the back, Ted in the middle, and Abraham basically crammed into the left. He ignored the slight playful snub and put his seatbelt on.

 “Hey, Abraham,” Jack said, looking back to meet the man’s eyes. Unsure, worried, fearful brown. Jack hated that look in Abraham’s eyes. He was fond of cats, and he was portraying a scared kitten with the sad-kitten-eyes to match. Jack just wanted to hug him until it all went away.

 “Hey.”

 Jack put his hands onto the wheel to get used to it.

 “I don’t get a hello?”

 “Yes, you too, Ted.”

 Bobby tapped Ted’s shoulder before it went any further, both because he had his belt on and the laptop up within seconds, and Jack needed to focus on beginning to drive. Bobby’s car (presumably) had the GPS on. “Now, we’re aiming for this amount of money—”

 Jack drove just slightly under the maximum speeding limit and tuned out the conversation behind him to listen to the GPS. Every few seconds he glanced back to see Abraham, whether at a stoplight or just for a second, and he was either looking out the window or the laptop. Bobby was clear on what he was saying in his lawyer-talk. Ted was nodding along. The laptop never dimmed. But the drive was considerably long and so music came on, and the laptop had to take a minute to not overheat or die. Of course, Bobby likely had five different USB drives with everything on them, but it still mattered.

 Once the laptop was off he pulled his phone out, and he must’ve had everything on there, because he was talking again in just a matter of minutes. Ted asked questions every now and then. He seemed better at figuring out the outcome than the problem until Bobby explained it. Jack had caught Abraham’s eye once; when they both looked up at the same time and deep brown met dull green. But then the light changed to green, and it broke reluctantly.

 As long as the drive was, they needed to pause to get gas, because Bobby hadn’t had time to entirely fill his tank before he arrived at Jack’s. Because he was already paying for the court bills (and medical ones, he’d have to tell Abraham), Jack went ahead and paid for the gas. He paused to grab a water bottle from the gas station. Once he was back in the car and driving, he leaned over towards the back.

 “I’ll pay for those medical bills as well.”

 Abraham looked utterly floored and stopped staring out the window to stare at Jack. “I—Jack, that’s thousands more added on top of the current court cost that will definitely be thousands as well.”

 Jack resisted the urge to say It’d only leave a dent if it was millions. and instead said, “It’s fine, Abraham, I can pay for it. Just a little from my account and we’ll be good to go. Besides—you let us stay in your house even when you were already stressed beyond belief. I want to, anyway.”

 Bobby and Ted were both watching with knowing smiles on their faces.

 Abraham furrowed his eyebrows in partial confusion. “A little? How much money do you even have?”

 “You ever hear of the Kennedys prior to meeting me?”

 Abraham pulled his phone out and did a Google search. Jack stopped at a light, thankfully on yellow, significantly close to their destination and making it all right on time. After a second, Abraham said quietly, “Jack there is no possible way your dad is this rich.”

 Jack felt a grin coming onto his face, both because the reaction never got old, and because he knew that at that point Abraham couldn’t make up an excuse of the money being too much to pay. “Well I could call, but he’s probably busy. The job at the vet is just something to keep me busy and because I enjoy working with animals, I don’t really need to work. I could stop working for the rest of my life and buy massive amounts of land and cars and useless items, and I wouldn’t need to worry. It’s just fun to go to work and see so many cute dogs.”

 Abraham stopped his scrolling and looked up from his phone. “I’m a cat person myself.”

 “Maybe when you have time, you could adopt one.”

 “Yeah, or foster one for a bit, see if it goes well,” Abraham said, shrugging. But he continued his ‘research’. Bobby was on the phone quietly with Jefferson, leaning away from the others to whisper into the phone, likely about how close they were to the court.

 “Good. Pets are truly a companion worth the money once you get used to their needs.”

  Abraham smiled, just a little bit. “Yeah, I know.” Then he gained a look of realization on his face. “Speaking of on an entirely different matter, I need to tell Theodore that if it’s discovered him and I are friends and this case gets around, he’ll probably be put on the spot by some conservative who Stephens definitely bragged to. I should tell him to deny being my friend.”

 “Why? You think he will?” Jack said. He was fairly certain no real friend would lie about being friends with someone.

 In return, he got a chuckle. “Well, no, but just in case he decides to take my advice for the first time.”

 Jack sighed. “I’d recommend being quick, I can see the building.”

 Bobby quickly said his goodbyes to Jefferson and put the laptop into the bag on his lap, the briefcase on Ted’s lap. “Do we all look civilized?”

 Ted moved a single strand of Bobby’s hair. “Now you do. Do I?”

 “As civilized as you can.”

 They both—in unison—swiveled their heads to Abraham, which slightly creeped him out. “He always does,” Bobby mumbled. “Jack, before we get out of the car, look at me.”

 Jack cracked his neck, only a small shock of pain going through his neck. He didn’t want to seem as stiff as the people in the court would probably be. “All right. Jefferson is already there, right?” As they got closer, he spotted a very-much-tacky dark purple truck and added, “Nevermind. I already know the answer.”

 It took a minute to find parking but once he did, he parked a fine distance away, not too far yet not the closest. He took his seatbelt off while everybody did their own and he turned to look at Bobby. Bobby looked up from his now undone seatbelt and studied his brother seriously for a minute before he nodded quickly. “Yep, you look fine.” They all got out of the car and Jack handed Bobby the keys so he could lock it.

 Jack immediately went over to Abraham’s side. “Are you ready?” he said quietly. He reached to touch the man’s hand and to his surprise, he wasn’t greeted with a pull away. “It’s fine if you need a minute.”

 Abraham swallowed and attempted to calm his heartbeat. “Yeah.” He intertwined his hand with Jack’s. They could break when they went into the court. No need to be holding hands with a man as he faced a court trial more or less about the fact he was kissing another guy. “I’m ready, and… I know we can do this. We can do it together.”

 Jack smiled. “We can.”

 “Stop saying your vows and let’s go.” Ted called suddenly, because in the few seconds Jack and Abraham exchanged words, he and Bobby had already made it halfway to the building.

 The pair shared one more look and one nervous smile before they walked over and into the building.

-

 Talking. Droning on. Providing evidence on both sides. And Jack’s eyes never tore away from the figure of Alexander fucking Stephens. If it was rage or disgust or a murderous feeling, he couldn’t differentiate. He just knew he was imagining the man with a hole in his head.

-

 When the jury banged his gravel, when the small crowd started speaking, it was a roar in Jack’s ears, and it was louder than his heartbeat and the explosions going off inside of his mind. He could barely register Bobby’s smile, relieved and exhausted. He could barely register Ted’s wide grin and his middle finger to Stephens who looked downright numbly distraught, and who couldn’t make a single glance at Abraham.

 And Jack only registered Abraham. Abraham, whose eyes held unshed tears. Whose grin was bigger than Jack had ever seen it. And for a moment, it was all perfect. Time had stopped. The crowd was a mere blur and he only focused on Jefferson with a confident smile, Bobby, head bowed as he untensed and relaxed, Ted laughing in triumph, and Abraham, perfect, smart, handsome and loving and just right Abraham, who looked right at Jack and pulled him into a hug that took his breath away and provided an audible ‘umph’.

 They won the case.

 It hit Jack the moment his chest hit Abraham’s. It took longer for the smile to appear, but once it did it was growing into a grin, a wide, big, explosive grin. Beaming and relieved. Happy. For his brother’s work and Abraham in general. No more worry. No more worry over any stupid photos or reputation. They won. Abraham won.

 “We did it! We fucking did it!” he exclaimed into the suit jacket. His own was probably crumpled and he couldn’t care less. “You fucking did this, Abraham!”

 Abraham laughed and it was a noise so similar to that of pure unashamed happiness that it made Jack’s heart skip a beat. “Not without your help or Bobby’s! Not without you!” he pulled back, and he stared Jack in the eyes, tears running free. “You’re the only reason this even happened, Jack. Without you—without your help, both financial and verbal and emotional, legally, with getting your brothers involved, I could’ve never done this. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

 Jack’s cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling. “You’re so goddamn welcome, Abraham. Anything for you. Anything at all.”

 He was going to kiss Abraham if there weren’t crowds and his siblings around. “I’m just so glad you won this trial and beat that asshole.”

 Abraham laughed again, “Once again: not without you.”

 They were hugging in the same second, and Jack felt like he was vibrating, and he felt like was in love, and yeah, he was. He was so fucking in love.

-

 They left the building with the highest spirits a group could have. Jack and Abraham were physically just unable to let go of each other, their mirth too infectious. Bobby and Ted had their arms slung over the other’s shoulders, grinning, Bobby proud of himself and Ted proud of his brother. There was going to be definite champagne-popping and wine-pouring. Maybe some whiskey-sharing, too, if Jack had any. It didn’t even matter because Jack and Abraham were too happy to even think of anything else.

 The sun was setting and it made a beautiful sight, orange light shading all of them and their suits, a perfect hour for a perfect ending. The sun was setting amidst the red and orange hues it left behind, trees lightly covering it yet leaving enough to be picture-worthy. It added to the sweet taste of victory even more.

 Jack caught a glimpse of Stephens almost entirely across the parking lot, and he stopped, therefore stopping Abraham and catching his brothers’ attention. “Hey, give me a second,” he walked away from the group and began over to Stephens. He had a bounding joy in his step mixed with a mischievous desire for revenge, and Stephens didn’t notice him. Jack managed to get all the way to two steps behind the man, and a closer look provided him with the disgust he truly felt at the vile man.

 He looked around—saw no guards or security or anyone else—and said, “Hey.” as casually as he could.

 Stephens turned. He didn’t get a second more before Jack swung. The crack heard and the bone he could feel collide against his knuckles was sickeningly satisfying, and Stephens fell onto the rough parking lot, cradling his nose instantly even as it poured blood down his suit and his face. He let out a quiet groan of pain.

 Jack crouched down and stared. He was smiling as wide as he could. “Don’t you ever fucking talk to Abraham again.”

 He got up, spine mildly hurting from the crouching and the tight hugs he had received, and walked back over to the three men with an even higher pep in his step. Abraham was in complete awe, and Ted looked overjoyed. “I always knew you had a mean bone in you.”

 “It’s not mean if it’s justice,” Jack said. He smiled up at Abraham. “Do you drink wine?”

 He got a laugh in response. “You break a man’s nose and you ask if I drink wine?” he said, just as they began walking again. His face looked handsome in the orange-hued light. “Rarely. I don’t drink alcohol much in general.”

 Jack nodded. “That’s fine.” They continued their walk back to the car and got in, buckling their seatbelts, and he knew he had to kiss Abraham at some point that was not in front of his brother’s. Bobby’s grin never faded. But really, none of their grins had. It was so damn good. So good to feel that victory and that win and that relief. Abraham was the most relieved, and he couldn’t wait to tell Ulysses the good news. Jack couldn’t wait to tell Jackie either.

 “Do you think Jackie will come over with boxes of wine in response when you tell her, Jack?” Bobby said, like he read his eldest brother’s mind. Jack chuckled. He wasn’t driving this time. Instead, seeing as it was Bobby’s car the man himself was driving.

 “Maybe. Either that or she’ll persuade me to drink all of the wine we already have with her.”

 “I think one of these days we should really have a vacation, Cape Cod maybe, or somewhere out of the country,” Ted suggested. He leaned back into the middle seat and closed his eyes, clearly envisioning just what chaos he could get up to when the time came.

 Jack could definitely use a vacation, actually. “That’s a hell of an idea. Bobby?”

 “We can discuss those wonderful things when they’re not distracting me from driving.”

 Jack and Ted both laughed. “All right, Bobby.”

-

 The drive home was far happier and far more relaxed. Jack forgot the water bottle and even though it wasn’t the coldest he offered it to Abraham. Abraham took it graciously, relaxing into his seat and joining in with the conversation more than he had the first time. Less stress was in his eyes, less anxiety and fear. It was a full turn from what Jack saw less than eight hours earlier and it was amazing to see. Those brown eyes, sparkling, gleaming with mirth and reveled-in cheer. Not scared, not fearful.  During the drive, Jack took Abraham’s phone to virtually pay for the medical bills and got a teary-eyed hug as a result. His eyes gleamed even brighter.

 If anything, he was over-fucking-joyed, and it showed.

 Bobby dropped Jack and Abraham off at the former’s house, but they all decided to gather around in Jack’s house to have a glass of champagne Jack found in a corner of a cupboard and toast it to Abraham and the winning of the case. Ted exclaimed, “And to punching homophobes!” right before and Jack happily drank to that one. The gather-around was short-lived though, and Bobby and Ted left. Bobby gave Jack one wink that subtly said, Stop pining and kiss him already, Jack.

 Jack had taken off his jacket, rolled his sleeves up, and loosened his tie. He was relaxed. Comfortable. He just needed to do that. Abraham stayed around to talk a bit and they shared the rest of their joy together with words and smiles until it was late and time to go home.

 They stood in the doorway then, Abraham’s suit jacket on, the door wide open letting in fresh air and the last few orange streams of light, and Jack knew this was it. This was entirely it.

 “Thank you again, Jack,” Abraham said. He couldn’t keep a smile off his face the entire time.

 Jack shook his head. “Again, it’s nothing.”

 “Yeah, but… still. So much money.”

 “It’s you, Abraham,” he said softly. “I’d pay as much money as I have in my account if it meant you were all right.”

 Abraham’s cheeks were pink from being flustered. Or it was the champagne, Jack couldn’t tell. “I know.”

 They stared at each other for a moment before Jack spoke up quietly, “You… were going to tell me something. What was it again?”

 “Oh.” Abraham looked down, swallowing. He hesitantly made eye contact again. “I… Jack, we’re… I… I love—”

 Jack knew.

 And so he leaned in, grabbed Abraham by the cheeks, and kissed him.

 Orange light streamed on them and when Jack closed his eyes, it was red and orange hues beneath his eyelids. Hot blood running through him and a foggy mind and maybe, just maybe the alcohol helped. Maybe it didn’t and it was Jack truly feeling good for the first time in so long. But he could taste the coffee, the champagne, the natural taste of Abraham, and the red was overtaking the orange and mixing into a beautiful color. It was good. It was perfect. A fuzzy feeling in his stomach and his heart aching out of desperation.

 And Abraham never pulled back. Not one bit did he pull away, or back. He leaned in when he realized what was going on. Yellows and oranges, a blur, fireworks maybe. A hot feeling all throughout his body. His crush, Jack, Jack Kennedy, was kissing him, and he could taste the champagne and coffee and slight fruit, natural taste, and fucking home. This was home.

 Jack was home, and there was nothing to do about it. The love inside of him was one that Romans, Greeks, wrote of, fantasized about. They wrote poems and hymns about, cupids flying in paintings, arrows and bows, shooting and infecting with something you could never know or understand until you felt it. Until you were there, the other person with you, and suddenly, you understood stories like Achilles and Patroclus.

 When they pulled apart, both of them felt light and good and relieved. It would’ve killed them to look away from each other. Or at least, it felt like it would have. “…Jack…” Abraham didn’t know what to say, but the man’s name felt right in his mouth.

 Jack licked his lips. “I love you too.”

 Nothing else. Orange reflecting on each other, making their eyes sparkle.

 “Jack.”

 “Yes, Abraham?”

 “Kiss me again.”

 Jack complied. He more than complied. His hands went to Abraham’s collar. Ruffling it, crumpling it, pulling and needing. Heart pounding. Heat boiling inside of his veins, hot, yet accelerating. And this felt right. This was the right thing. This was everything.

 Instead of leaving, Abraham stayed. Door being lazily closed and lips never parting, ties coming apart, and when Abraham muttered, “Are you sure? I mean, I am, I am entirely, but, are you sure you want to—you know—we don’t have to—”

 “Abraham.”

 “Yes, Jack,” Abraham answered breathlessly. Hair messily falling in front of his eyes. Jack was an enigma that was holding him. Not just a man, yet too human to be an angel. But yet, too lovely to be anything but.

 “I want this more than anything in the world, and if you want me to, I will show you right here, right now, even on the floor.”

 “Let’s not do this on the floor.”

 “Bedroom?”

 Abraham chuckled with what little air he began to gain. “The fact you’re fazing it as a question tells me I’m in for a wild ride.” Maybe an angel with little horns instead.

 Jack smiled. “You don’t even know.”

 Lips met and feet stumbled into a bedroom and nothing else existed for a moment in time.

-

 Jack expected to wake up alone with nothing but a sorry text, but instead he woke up to a rose in the spot of where Abraham was, and a small folded letter on the nightstand with a heart lovingly drawn on. He picked the rose up and twirled it. Cliché, a bit cheesy, yet he found himself smiling tiredly at it. He grabbed the letter, white yet tinted with slight yellow, looking aged and something from a painting.

 He opened it up.

 Good morning, dear.

 As unfortunate as it is, I had to get up. I cannot let Ulysses knock on the door, kids in the car, and have nobody be there. I made you coffee. I set up every single creamer or sugar in case you need it, so it’s right there. Anything we may’ve accidentally knocked over during our… moment downstairs, is now up and in their respective spots. I would’ve stayed but I couldn’t. You’ll check your phone after this I bet, and you’ll see a picture of me and the kids. I hope it’s a good one that future I took.

  Sincerely,

  Abraham

 Jack couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but loved. The smell of coffee made with love was vaguely there from downstairs. It made him feel fuzzy again.

 He leaned back into bed, against his pillow, the rose against him and the letter gently held in his hand.

 Life was good.

Chapter Text

 By the time Monday rolled around, Jack wasn’t as anxious as he thought he’d be. Normally in a situation like this he’d be constantly wondering if a night like that would be the end of things. But Abraham was A. too good of a person, and B. inevitably going to see Jack again. So ghosting him wouldn’t be the best option (and Bobby read people well, so that helped calm some fear). In the end, he got up happier than usual, his alarm stopping and the sound of children tiredly scooting around the kitchen filling his ears instead. On Saturday he’d been told Caroline wouldn’t have any school, a teacher accidentally screwed up, so he’d let both of his eldest children go to John’s school for a change. While Caroline would be among the oldest, it’d still be fun for her, if he was right. (and he was.)

 Jack ran a hand through his hair before he got off the bed, used to the pain, and grabbed his phone. Only one text left unread. Last night, he and Jackie spent a good portion of two hours sending too-funny-for-the-middle-of-the-night memes to each other, so he knew he didn’t have to see anything from her. The text was from Abraham.

 Soulheart

Good morning, :) <3

 In an instant Jack was smiling. Today already started well. He didn’t—well, he didn’t fully expect a text. After a one-night stand with someone who you were friends with, you usually weren’t so cordial. But it seemed Abraham was willing to be. He tapped out a reply, grabbing cologne while he was at it.

Jack

Good morning <3

 Jack didn’t need it but for extra measure, he sprayed a bit of cologne on. If he was going to be seeing Abraham he definitely would need it. Once he was ready he left the bedroom and went downstairs, the sight of a happy John greeting him, the boy playing with a figurine, and Caroline, tickling Patrick’s stomach. The scent of brewing coffee filled the air.

 “Good morning, you three.”

 Both John and Caroline perked up and looked his way, but Patrick cooed happily and smiled. His father knew that was a way of saying good morning. And when his boy had the ability to speak, he knew the chorus of ‘good morning’ would grow by one.

 “Good morning Papa!” John said, momentarily distracted from the figurine.

 Jack rounded the kitchen island to get to the coffee machine, grabbing his mug and creamer. “Are both of you ready for school today?” he sent a glance toward his children; John looked ready and so did Caroline. Their bags lay on the floor near the front door, Caroline’s covered in tiny little kitten and bunny stickers she’d presumably gotten when she was with Jackie. It wasn’t uncommon for the kids to come back with little items or accessories, expensive or inexpensive, and Jack would be lying if he said the kids didn’t deserve it and more.

 “Yep! I put a big shirt on,” John pointed at the October-themed hoodie he had on. It was black with a big white ribcage on the front, a red heart underneath. Jack barely remembered buying it. It must’ve been a three-am decision. But the ribcage had a green tint to it and the heart seemed neon, as if they both glowed in the dark. Jack would have to test it.

 “Good. It’s going to be getting colder, but that’s a good thing.” Jack said, and mixed creamer and coffee into his mug, tapping the spoon on the edge of the mug just to hear the clink. It had still been too hot to drink.

 “Why?” Caroline replied.

 “Because,” Jack felt a smile grow on his face, picking up the mug and turning to his children. “that means it’s getting closer to Halloween time.”

 John broke out into a huge grin and his eyes gleamed. John knew that Halloween meant candy, and candy was amazing. It gave him a tummy ache if he ate too much of it, but it was still so good. “Halloween!”

 Caroline smiled, Patrick also cooing once more in her arms. Caroline was excited, really, but she was more focused on what she’d dress up as rather than the candy. She’d have to choose something really cool.

 “Can we dress up, Papa?”

 “Of course we can. I mean, what father would I be if I said no?” Jack said, taking an experimental sip of the coffee. It was fine. Maybe slightly bitter, but fine. He began wondering if Abraham would dress his boys up. Granted, if he did, Robert probably wouldn’t. He might’ve been the type to stop dressing up when he got ‘too old’ (whatever ‘too old’ meant, Jack was still going to dress up). In that case though what group costume would be five people? … Eight people?

 John giggled. “I think you… wouldn’t be as great as you are!”

 “Well that’s true, John,” Jack went around the kitchen to ruffle his boy’s hair, earning a happy little shriek of laughter that made his stomach go pleasantly warm. He loved his kids so damn much. He was looking forward to their birthdays. Those days were—for the most part—always joyful. Only two days apart. Sometimes they did joint presents, sometimes they didn’t. It was normal to spend hours in the park or playing fun games. Those days, Jack was just Jack, and he was just Papa, nothing more, and he was glad. Those days seemed to be the least stressful. It wasn’t like he had any Presidential duties, or anything.

 Caroline kicked her little legs, Patrick beginning to look hungry, and she said, “What time is it?” from her point of view, she couldn’t read the stove clock.

 “Seven-forty.”

 “We have twenty minutes, Papa.”

 Jack smiled. “Yes, we do. Except you don’t have school.” At that, Caroline smiled widely. He put his mug down on the counter in front of the kids to pick Patrick up from his sister’s arms, kissing his baby boy’s cheek. It elicited a little happy noise. Clad in an orange onesie with a pumpkin on the front, the entire family looked ready to celebrate Halloween. Caroline had on a pretty, glittery purple long-sleeve and striped black and red socks with bat-covered sneakers.

 “Do y’ want some food, bud?”

 Patrick clapped his chubby hands together and Jack was grabbing Puffs before anything else happened.

 -

 The drive to school in Bitches-Love-Me-2000 was a lively one. John and Caroline made a long smooth conversation and Patrick was content with happily nibbling on a cold, mostly-fresh-from-the-fridge rattle. Jack heard the coldness helped and he had no doubts the teeth pains would get worse. He personally didn’t remember being a baby and having teeth ache, but he could only imagine it sucked. He put the radio on to look for any good tunes and could only find Monster Mash. Radio stations seemed to be cashing in on October early.

 “And then in my dream—the—the really big and cool dragon came and swept you up!”

 “Why?” Caroline gasped in response to John’s description of his dream. The boy always had a vivid imagination and it transferred over to dreamland. She put her hands on her cheeks comically just to add to the dramatic effect.

 John giggled. “Because you were eating the last fruit snack!”

 “I would never!”

 “You have! And you did! And you flew away with the dragon and I was given all the snacks in the land!”

 Jack held back a chuckle from how slightly-insane the kids both sounded, and he knew that days like these would be coming for at least another year or two. John’s dreams sometimes got so wacky it had his father crying from laughter. This was one of the tamer ones in reality. “Well, do you think that’ll really happen if she eats the last fruit snack?”

 John made a small humming sound before swinging his legs back and forth. “No, but she would—uh—dee-ser-ve it!”

 Caroline crossed her arms. “No I wouldn’t.”

 “Yes, you would, ‘cause it’s my fruit snacks.”

 “Why?”

 “It just is.”

 Jack swore John would grow up to be an amazing debater. He considered letting the kids continue their entire debate and dream-talk, but the school was approaching, and so was the feeling in his chest that refused to let go. He wasn’t nervous, but he was definitely excitedly anxious. Abraham was not the type to just ghost him. Jack figured that out not too far into knowing the man. But would he want something real? Something that actually blossomed?

 The thought of being in a real, full relationship with Abraham made his heart practically flip. It was stupid—he knew it was—to get so worked up over romance like he was a teenager—but he was in love, damnit, and love was oddly scary. Scary because of how strong it could be.

 Oh, a talk with Jackie was definitely in order. Definitely.

 But he pulled up in front of the school and began undoing his seatbelt. “We can continue that one later, all right?” he turned to his children in the back. “Get your bag, John, say goodbye to your baby brother for now.”

  John waved, already beginning to swing his backpack around his shoulder. Jack got out of Bitches-Love-Me-2000 first and went around to let his eldest son out. The boy got out and looked infinitely excited, likely glad to be able to see his friends again. It was no surprise that each and every time he was able to play with his friends, they got closer, and closer, and it was inevitable that a sleepover would happen. Whether it was with Willie or not.

 “What ‘bout Sissy?”

 “Well,” Jack looked around and leaned against the car. Caroline sat inside while she listened. Their father told them that she wouldn’t have school. “I don’t see why she can’t come in, too. Come on, Buttons, grab your bag and say bye, too.”

 Caroline beamed and grabbed her bag, kissing her baby brother on top of his little head and whispering goodbye to him. She crawled out as well. As normal as this school was to John, it wasn’t to her, and so she was already eager to see what the playground had to offer. There was no doubt there’d be some weird sandbox revolt.

 Jack grabbed both of his children’s hands and began walking to the school. It wasn’t far, really. He could see the entrance. One or two children were already on the playground before class, and—it was quite visible that Abraham stood by the entrance, nervous and also very much fidgeting. Well, at least Jack wasn’t alone in this.

 He led the children up to the stairs, where both of them waved to John’s principal before happily skipping inside. It was a miracle John didn’t end up hating school. And so that left Jack to awkwardly go up the stairs himself and shove his hands in his pockets and stare at Abraham.

 Their eyes met—for a second, green and brown mixed—and then it broke. Okay, so it wasn’t anxiety—it was just. Slight nervousness.

 “So.”

 “So.”

 They both chuckled, and Abraham reached a hand to the back of his neck. But he couldn’t help a smile growing upon his face. “It’s nice to see you. After. Uh. That.”

 Jack smiled. “Yeah. Yeah,” he looked down. “Still glad we won that case.” He couldn’t wait to shove it in someone’s face if they said he didn’t know how the law worked.

 “Yeah, that was really good, really… uhm—so, you—don’t—you don’t regret the aftermath, right?” Abraham looked at him like his last hopes relied on what came out of Jack’s mouth. And truth be told?

 “No. I don’t.” and their eyes met again. “I think I’d have to be insane to regret it.”

 “Are you sure you’re not insane?”

 “As sure as I can be.”

 Abraham let out a large sigh of relief, shoulders sagging as the man finally stopped looking so pent-up and stiff. “Thank God. I was nervous you wouldn’t… that you would regret it. I mean I don’t, but. I just didn’t know.”

 Jack waved it away. He would be labeled a hypocrite if he said there was no reason to worry. “No. No. I appreciate the letter you left, it was romantic, at least.”

 Abraham’s eyes seemed like hearts at that one, and he folded his arms together, cheeks just a bit red. “I figured—I wanted to leave something, I thought just leaving was rude, and you deserve far better than that. I still think I should’ve reached out at some point during the weekend.”

 “No, no, I mean, yes, but I should have too.”

 “Well then we’re both guilty.”

 Jack couldn’t stop the small laugh that came out. “Yes, I guess we are.”

 It was silent for a second—one second it was nothing but content silence—and Jack wondered in that moment if he was either going to be told something beautiful or something to take away all of his hope. But Abraham took a deep breathe and inhaled.

“This is going to be one of the worst asking outs you’ve probably ever gotten, but, I’m free, uh, tonight, I don’t have much paperwork to do and Grant would babysit, and I was just wondering if you have time to maybe go out somewhere tonight?” Abraham’s words were rushed and careful, yet expectant, and unsure. He was expecting a no—that was a given. Jack could admit, this was one of the worst ways he’d been asked out, but it wasn’t the worst. And it was charming, in some weird way.

 …

 “Yeah, I would.”

 Oh, the way Abraham’s cheeks flushed was tempting.

 “Really? Like, you really, genuinely would?”

 “Yes. I could bribe Ted to come down here and babysit the kids.”

 The smile Jack got in return was beyond worth it.

 “That’s… great. That’s great.” A relieved laugh accompanied Abraham’s words. “We—I know the kids have to go to class and you have stuff to do, so could we continue this later?”

 Jack nodded. “Yeah.” And then, in the boldest move he could muster, he stepped forward and hugged Abraham, looking up to kiss the man’s cheek. Abraham was definitely startled. But he hugged Jack back, gently, like the man in his arms was made of the softest materials possible. It was certainly tame considering what happened before.

 And Jack really did hate to leave the warmth holding him, but he swallowed and stepped back, nodding his goodbye to Abraham before making an awkward picture while descending down the stairs. He sped-walked to Bitches-Love-Me-2000, Patrick passed out in the back, looking more or less entirely at peace with the world and its chaos that he couldn’t place a small finger on yet. And that was good. Patrick didn’t need to, either. He didn’t need to know the potential terrors the world held for him yet.

 Once Jack secured himself in his car and made sure nothing was out of place, he looked into the small mirror up above and simply stared. He couldn’t believe what happened. And a smile cracked across his face and then he was leaning back, relieved, hand in his hair and exhaling deeply because God he just got a date with the guy he slept with and had been pining over for what felt like an eternity. In reality it hadn’t even been that long—but it was like getting a damn well-deserved treat after everything.

  And, with a note of pride, he noted that the haunted look in Abraham’s eyes was smaller. He wasn’t worrying over a legal case. And Jack, knowing he helped, knowing he played a part, couldn’t get those beautiful eyes out of his mind even when he drove. He turned the radio on low at some point and let it play some random song as Patrick stayed asleep in the back with a tiny deer plush in his baby hands.

 Ted would… hopefully accept the invitation to babysit his nephew. If he didn’t do it for free, Jack was willing to pay him in Goldfish or actual food. Last time Ted babysat he ate a plastic-infused amalgamation of a cookie, but this time would be different. Because no, they did not have any plastic cookies.

 … The glitter cookies were on the top shelf, actually.

 Jack drove to daycare and dropped his youngest child off, feeling guilty having to wake his darling boy, but it was inevitable. Being moved out of your booster seat and then carried and then suddenly in a new environment was not easy to stay asleep through.

 Mid-check-in, Jack had Patrick in his hands while Garfield happily filled out the check-in-record (they were mildly strict about those), and he wondered if Abraham would’ve been able to do it. He looked like he handled babies well. Tad was a mischievous but playful kid, so that was a good sign.

 “All right, thanks, Garfield,” Jack said, before he slowly lowered Patrick down onto the soft play mat. “now you’re going to be here for a minute, okay buddy?”

 Patrick looked up at him and cooed. Big wonderous eyes stared right into his father’s soul.

 “Yeah, I love you too.” Jack leaned down and kissed his son’s head. “Bye now, bud.”

 It usually took a bit of reassurance to keep Patrick from following him, but Patrick was too tired to really put up a fight to keep his Papa in his clutches, so he just went along with his tired-baby duties.

 The moment Jack was alone in Bitches-Love-Me-2000, he leaned all the way back in his seat and took his phone out from his pocket. He opened up his contacts and didn’t even need to scroll to find Jackie’s number. He clicked the green phone icon, held the phone to his ear, and heard it ring.

 Ring…

Ring…

“Jack?”

 “Jackie,” he started. “I need your help for a date later tonight.”

 -

 Ted ended up taking the babysitting gig with the promise of going through the fridge. He’d arrive at eight pm. Jackie would arrive at nine. For almost all of the day while he waited, Jack played Candy Crush (he was pretty good at it) and texted Abraham while he waited. Whether it was memes or actual text, it helped calm his heartbeat knowing that Abraham always responded in due time. It would’ve been better to hear the man’s voice, but Jack wasn’t going to complain.

 Jack paced in his kitchen while he waited to hear the knock on his front door. John was playing on the floor with his figurines and Caroline was brushing her hair because her skeleton hoodie messed it up. It got colder, so just in case, Patrick was in a thick little baby sweater. Two grand, but worth it.

 “Is Uncle Teddy almost here?” John said loudly, slamming one figurine into the other gently, reenacting a fight with them.

 “Almost, John,” Jack replied, watching the clock turn exactly eight. “and he will eat your cookies, don’t worry.”

 Caroline came down the stairs. The hoodie hung to her knees—maybe giving her one of his hoodies wasn’t the cleanest idea, but it sure as hell worked. “Will he like them?” she asked, taking a seat on the couch and grabbing a big frog plush.

 Jack paused his pacing. He could be honest and say absolutely not, but he decided, “Well if he can taste, he likely will.” A safe answer he supposed. It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the truth. Caroline let the answer suffice. She stared at the front door and, as was her father, waited to hear the knock.

 Jack resumed his pacing until it was almost 8:01. But then he heard the familiar knock as the clock on the oven changed and he sighed. Jack rounded the kitchen and went to the front door already decorated with cobwebs and unlocked it, opening it to see once more his youngest brother. The drive was long, but Jack’s fridge—and his niece and nephews, of course—was too good to pass up.

 “Please don’t tell me anything inedible will be served.”

 But Jack didn’t answer him, only let him inside, and was closing the door when Caroline jumped up from the couch and was by the shelves in a second.

 “Papa! Show him what we made!”

 Ted was horrified.

 Jack grinned and put the keys down before going to the kitchen and reaching up to the top shelf. There were three glitter cookies. Not edible glitter. Just. Glitter. That was it. Magenta glitter mixed into cookie dough, looking partially like Frankenstein’s monster in cookie form but pink, and in a ziplock with a star on it placed by Patrick.

 “Those… are. Those are them?” Ted pointed at them, until they were close enough to be directly in front of him, in which he looked at them like they’d kill him.

 Caroline beamed at him. “Yep!” she looked down at her brother, who was still on the floor. “John we need t’ see his reaction!”

 John Jr. looked up and the figurines were forgotten just so he could watch his Uncle eat their special cookies. He got up, and gripped onto his sister’s sleeve. “Well go on!”

 Jack handed the bag to Ted. They shared a brother-coded look, one side saying Good luck, the other saying I will never forgive you for this.

 “Well, I need to lay out half of my closet for Jackie,” Jack patted his brother’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

 And then he went upstairs to go pull out his shoes, pants, and almost all of his tops. He could feel his youngest brother stare into the back of his head as if it’d reverse his suffering.

 Well, it didn’t.

-

 Jackie had gotten so used to entering Jack’s house that she was as casual as one could be. Jack gave her an extra key, so she wouldn’t have to commit a crime to get in. And that meant that when Jack heard the front door open, and greetings exchange, he knew that his ex arrived to rate and create his outfits. The only explanation he’d given her was a date—no specification. So he only stared at his bedroom door and waited ten seconds while counting in his head.

 One.

 Five.

 At seven the door opened and Jackie looked ready to create a model.

 “Give me every detail you have.”

 “Before you go on an expensive tangent—no, don’t look at me like that, expensive is expensive—we haven’t agreed on a place to go out to yet.”

 Jackie took her coat off and put it on the small table close to the bedroom door. “Are you sure it’s not going to be a fast food date? You have outfits for that.” She said. In times of help, she had a good idea, and she knew how to dress him. That was one of the reasons she was the only person who knew about any of his ‘embarrassing’ clothing. Not embarrassing as much as it was around the house, really.

 “It’s not going to be a fast food date, Jackie, and if it was I’m sure I’d enjoy it,” Jack replied, falling back onto the bed, missing one of his button-up’s by simply a hair. The amount of clothing Jack had was fit for a walk-in. Which he’d probably need. … really soon.

 Jackie shook her head, “You deserve far better than a fast food date.” She picked up one of his shirts and held it in the light, but then put it back down. “Now what are you going for?”

 “Something to. …” Jack thought about it. He wasn’t trying to pull every single stop there was, necessarily, Abraham had seen parts of that before. It’d be too normal. But he wasn’t trying to be casual either. “… Look. Good?”

 He got a stare that he honestly deserved. “So. You want to look good?”

 “Yes.”

 Jackie sighed. “Bunny, I don’t know if you know this, but you could make a trash bag look attractive. You need to give me colors or something. Do you want to be bright?”

 He shook his head.

 “Then,” she grabbed a dark maroon button-up. It hadn’t been worn in years, but it kept its shape. “go for this.” When Jack examined it, he found it would probably be a little tight. Whether that was intentional was something he’d have to ask.

 “Did you mean for this to be tight?” he asked, and all Jackie did was smile.

 She chose a pair of black skinny jeans and a long black coat he had, which was custom-made to fit his body and thick enough to withstand basic cold weather. That, with a pretty black tie, made him look delectable but not unreachable. Easy to talk to, but easy to fall for. Maybe that’s what Jack was—after all, she’d been with him. They had kids. They were still friends. Obviously, she knew him well. More than he knew himself, possibly.

 With little convincing Jack put the clothing on and, once he was sure his hair was still in place, he came out of the bathroom. Jackie’s reaction was excited, relieved, and smug, mostly because she chose those pieces. If she was smug, then—

 “You look amazing!”

 Jack smiled and looked down. From the top, he didn’t look bad. He still needed shoes though. “Thanks, Jackie. We still need to choose shoes though.”

 And because she knew his wardrobe well, Jackie sprung across the bedroom to go into his shoe pile and picked out the one pair that was still new-looking. They were dark maroon-brown, almost black really, and shined with prospects of impressing people with just how expensive they looked. The ties matched the color. Overall, pricey dress shoes. But with the color of his button-up, Jack was sure it’d go well, and he could tell she wasn’t going to budge on the pair.

 “Put these on, and you’ll look ready for a dinner with the President himself.”

 Jack did as said, and. Well. All he could think was he looked good. He tried an experimental smile in the mirror; the smile made him all the more attractive. To himself, and maybe Abraham. He hoped, at least.

 “I think this works, Jackie,” he looked at her from where she was on the bed, admiring her best friend, past husband. “thanks for the help, by the way.”

 Jackie waved it away and grinned. “You don’t need to thank me, Jack. I enjoy helping you. Even if it’s for a date.” She got up and put a hand on his shoulder. The wisdom in her eyes shined brightly. “I can tell you really like Abraham, and honestly, with all I’ve heard from you and Bobby and Ted, he’s a good man. A really good man. You’re going to prosper with him.” She said quietly, and for a moment, Jack entirely focused on her and her alone. “I want to see you happy. Abraham makes you happy, Jack.”

 “He really does,” Jack mumbled, trying to keep from losing himself in her eyes. Even after all of the years that went by, she held a hold over him. Jack truly wasn’t afraid if she did.

 “And you make him happy, too. So go after this. You’ve already proved you love him—and he’s proved he… well.” Jackie let out a soft chuckle. “He definitely loves you. Don’t push him away, okay?”

 He nodded soundlessly. And Jackie’s smile grew, and her speech ended at the same time effectively, and she pulled him into a hug. Conscious of the outfit. But Jack wouldn’t care if she messed it up, because he was honestly on the edge of tears.

 “Go get your man, Bunny,” she whispered in his ear and made him laugh, although it came out as a part-sob. The hug stayed connected until his tears went away and until they were ready to break apart. But even then they smiled at each other with understanding and care.

 Jack checked his phone battery and once he was sure everything was in place he went to go downstairs. His hair was in place, his phone was charged, and he was confident. The first thing he saw was the children more or less fighting with foam swords, the only bridge between John-John and Caroline being Ted’s body, as if he was water and they were two opposing kingdoms. He looked to be in mental pain, even as Patrick bopped him in the head with his toy every few seconds.

 Jack grinned at the sight. His brothers loved being uncles, even if situations like this happened. “You guys having fun?” he said while Jackie grabbed her coat from upstairs.

 “We’re having a war!” John called from across the living room.

 “And… is Ted the ocean?” Jack pointed at his brother, who let out a whine from below, only being silenced by Patrick’s toy hitting him gently on the head.

 “Yep!”

 Jack couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head, amused, and grabbed his keys. “Well, have fun with that. I’ll be back later, okay? Don’t cause any trouble.”

 Caroline broke character to come up and hug him before he left, looking up and asking, “Does forcing someone to watch a movie count?”

 “No’

 His daughter snapped her head to her brother, and they made a certain telepathic connection that was slightly unsettling. “Grab the movies for later.” Then, in an instant she was looking up at Jack, smiling. “Bye, Papa.”

 Jack ruffled her hair. “Bye, Buttons.” He looked at John. “Be good, Johnny.”

 The boy nodded. “I swear!”

 Satisfied, Jack simply nodded at Ted and heard Jackie come back downstairs, coat on, and he said, “Ready?”

 “I’m not the one you’re going out with,” she teased, and he rolled his eyes fondly before he opened the front door and she went out first. The initial reaction was that it was cold—Jack had his big coat on, but he might have needed to get it worked on to be thicker, because damn was it cold.

 “I’ll… text him,” Jack pulled his phone out and found Abraham’s contact.

Jack

Hey so like what time would you want to be at the place?

The instant typing was expected at that point.

Soulheart

Well I can drive to your place now. I think I have somewhere in mind.

Jack

Alright.

“I suggest you go now, he’ll pick me up.”

 Jackie nodded. “You’re sure you’ll be okay out here?”

 “Yeah. G’night, Jackie.” He pulled her in for a side-hug and she happily returned it, patting his shoulder.

 “Goodnight, Jack.” Then she slipped into her car, the headlights beamed, and she was driving.

 Turned out the wait really wasn’t long. Ten minutes. And then at the end of those ten, Jack spotted Abraham’s car, the man put together as far as the windows let Jack believe. When Abraham slipped out, it was even better.

 Hair cleaned up and styled, beard trimmed, white button-up with an even cleaner black bowtie and beige trench coat on. The outfit was simple but effective on Jack’s blood pressure most certainly. The black slacks did wonders, and the dress shoes—dark brown but going perfect, and God he might have considered convincing the man of a quicky in the car until the thought of outfits and actual romance filled Jack’s mind. The quicky could wait, the urge to kiss Abraham could not.

 “Hey, Ja—”

 Instead of finishing his words, Abraham was silently kissed on the lips, strong but careful. Jack was shorter—but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one hell of a grip on the taller’s hand.

 When the kiss broke, Jack smiled charmingly. “Hey.”

 “That… was something,” Abraham said, laughing a bit because of how warm his cheeks were. Jack was… smug, needless to say.

 “It isn’t my fault you look kissable.”

 Abraham buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t expect the flirting but I hate how I like it.”

 Jack snickered. “Good. Now I’d like to get into this warm car if that’s all right with you.”

 Fumbling for the keys, Abraham nodded. “Yeah, yeah, me too—it’s far colder than I expected,” he slipped into the driver’s seat and Jack into the passenger’s, fixing the mirror and then once the doors closed finally being able to take in Jack’s appearance. If the man intended to give Abraham a stroke, then he was definitely close to his goal. “You look…” he swallowed. “very good, if that’s not weird to say.”

 Jack was already itching to kiss him again. “I got some help, but thank you. You look just as good.”

 Abraham shook his head and began doing his seatbelt. “No, I just grabbed what was actually clean and fit, but you must’ve put effort into it,” he sent a glance to the floor of the car. “those shoes must be worth more than half of my house.”

 Jack laughed. Because that was probably true. “Well if that’s a non-effort outfit I’d love to see one with effort,” and admittedly, the end may’ve been a purr, but it wasn’t Jack’s fault that this guy made him feel twenty-one again.

 Abraham noticed the tone, and his cheeks reddened just a bit more. “Good to know,” he commented, before looking around the streets, dark yet lit up with streetlights. “I think this is the right way.”

 “And… are you sure you aren’t leading me down to a murder hole?”

 “Mostly.”

 Bowing his head down to hide his wide grin and keep a laugh in, Jack inhaled, “Mostly is not sure.”

 “But it’s close enough!” Abraham countered, taking a turn and quietly liking the way the streetlights looked with the neighborhood itself. Some simply looked out of place.

 “I guess so,” Jack sighed gently, but his grin didn’t leave, even as he admired Abraham just inches away. “I guess so.”

 The drive wasn’t that long. In retrospect, it was maybe fifteen, twenty minutes. When they got out the place they were in front of was fancy but not expensive fancy; pretty and big but not trying to look like an eyesore. Lights from inside glowed and spilled onto the concrete and freshly trimmed grass, a warmth emitting from the place simply because it looked comfortable. Jack was glad it wasn’t needlessly rich in its design either, he didn’t feel like being around gold-plated everything.

 “Ready to go in?” Abraham asked, and decided to link their arms. Jack didn’t pull away a smidge.

 “More than.”

 The place was pretty inside and it had nice décor, good lighting yet dimmed, likely to enhance the mood. The floor was covered in plush red carpet and there were plants in some corners, the dark brown walls contrasting nicely with the wooden tables and comfortable-looking seats. It was definitely a bit more polished than most restaurants, but it let Jack relax instead of recite all the other languages he knew in case he needed to use it on a stupidly flaunting menu.

 “I reserved seats near the windows, if that’s okay,” Abraham leaned down to whisper in Jack’s ear, breath lightly tickling his ear. Jack just nodded. He noticed many politicians or businessmen around, women in pretty dresses, the men in cut suits. It wasn’t too much but it was close.

 Abraham took a moment to get to their seats, and once they did Jack adjusted on the seats, liking the way it felt against his back. “This doesn’t hurt,” he said, leaning back, “I’m glad you chose well.”

 “Well, I chose this place mostly because I knew the seats wouldn’t hurt your back,” Abraham responded. The way Jack’s eyes snapped over to him, the way his face softened and his eyes shined with surprise, was the only way of knowing how much he appreciated that. He hadn’t experienced a care like that before—not with anyone but Jackie. But for a first date? It wasn’t even special, but to Jack it was. It definitely was.

 “…Thanks, Abraham,” Jack finally decided on, words dripping with unintentional honey. He would’ve said more if the menus weren’t served and Abraham was opening it up, looking up at him from above the fairly heavy menu.

 “If you need extra time ordering let me know, I’ll get you what you want, as well, even if it’s a lot of money.” Then Abraham looked down and began reading the menu, and Jack wanted so badly to just kiss the man again.

 Damnit, he wasn’t meant to be flustered, but he couldn’t be anything else if Abraham continued to be romantic. Hell, there were candles lit to the side of the table. This was romantic beyond what Jack expected.

 Eventually they found something to order, and Abraham ordered venison with water, while Jack ordered steak and a glass of wine.

 “Water in a place like this must be at least ten dollars,” Jack then added, “I’ll pay if you want me to.”

 Abraham shook his head instantly, determination in his eyes. “Absolutely not. I asked you out and I chose where we’re eating; I’m not letting you pay, not even if you tried.”

 Regardless, Jack took that as a challenge. “What if I still tried? Maybe paid while you weren’t looking?” he leaned forward and let his head rest on his hand, crossing a leg over the other. Realistically he probably wouldn’t be able to—didn’t mean he couldn’t discuss it.

 Abraham pretended to think. “I think I’d still convince the restaurant to take my check instead.”

 “Mmh. Sure.” Jack sounded, but really he fought back a smile, enjoying the tiny bits of banter. “Being a Kennedy does have perks, y’know.”

 “Like?”

 A smile took over Jack’s face, Oh, he didn’t get to explain much, but when he did… “My father’s a billionaire. He has more assets than you think—there’s a reason Disneyland is practically free.” He leaned back into the soft seat. “My brother’s a lawyer, my other brother is a Senator, and…” he trailed off when he went to say, And my eldest brother Joe is a soldier because… because Joe was gone. So instead, “…and we’re basically royalty in the States if I’m honest.”

 Abraham swallowed and folded his hands together. “Does that mean convincing your parents will be hard?”

 Jack laughed quietly. “They’d pay you to take me. I’m chaotic when I want to be, and I’ve probably thrown my siblings into the pool more times than I can count. We own a lot of properties, houses and things like that, so when you meet my parents, you’ll have room to think over every word you say to them.”

 Abraham was quiet.

 Until, “You own multiple houses?”

 “Yeah, mostly summerhouses. Still big enough to be an actual full-time house though.”

 …

 “I think Google lied when it told me your father was just a millionaire.”

 Jack wanted to laugh out loud, but he wasn’t going to be disruptive, either. “Yeah, that’s probably over a decade old. Maybe believe the actual son instead.”

 That got a smile. Good. This was going well. “I think I will.”

 But, Jack was reminded of what he had to tell Abraham, right when he brought up his brothers. Bobby was going to go after Jefferson. “I—uh,” his tone changed, nervous, unsure. Not confident and proud. “I wanted to say Bobby may be trying to get Jefferson in prison. Like. Soon.”

 In return, Abraham looked stunned. “Wh—why?”

 “Ask Bobby. I’m sure he could give you a better answer.”

 Abraham nodded slowly and let out a hesitant breath of air. “Okay, okay.”

 They made small chatter for a few minutes until their food was brought to them, in which Jack looked at it like he was starving. God, all of the talking and subtle-flirting made him hungry. Not entirely for food, of course, but that could wait. He dug in first, noticing Abraham hesitate, and so he asked, “Are you going to wait until it cools?”

 Abraham snapped out of a seemingly deep trance, stammering out, “Uh—no, no, I just… wasn’t sure if you were fine with me eating this like a dying man in front of you.”

 Jack chuckled. “Please. I am about to eat like a dying man. If only one of us eats this entire thing in five minutes it’ll be mighty embarrassing.”

 That got him a smile, and Abraham began eating. Jack saved the questions about the trance for when it was appropriate. For now, he’d happily eat the delicious-smelling food while sweet candles burned beside him, and he had a gorgeous man right in front of him.

 -

 “I really, really enjoyed that,” Jack said once they stepped out of the restaurant. It was even colder and so he hugged his coat around himself. Abraham was smiling widely and looked proud of himself.

 “I’m glad. I wanted you to, after all.” But then he noticed Jack’s slight shivering. He was picking his trench coat off his shoulders before Jack said another word, and it slipped onto the other man smoothly, the warmth just enough to feel like smooth heat rushing up and down Jack’s spine.

 But Jack shook his head. “No, no, you don’t need to give me…” he stopped when he saw just how damn good that button-up hugged Abraham’s upper half. On second thought… “nevermind.”

 He and Abraham talked during the drive as well, the quiet radio on in the background. Smiles and laughs were shared. The trench coat, oddly enough, was never too much, even when in the car and the heating kicked on. It smelled like Abraham—like something pleasant and good and natural. Normal. Jack could get used to waking up to that, or cuddling up to it, or even having his entire damn house smell like it. Maybe he liked the way Abraham smelled, sue him.

  Pretty soon they were at Jack’s house and Abraham helped Jack out of the car, smiling, cheeks flushed. “I had a good time, Jack. I’m glad we went out together.”

 Jack returned the smile, eyes shining brightly. “Me too.” He plucked the coat off, and handed it to Abraham. “This is yours, in case you forgot.”

 The taller man handed it back to Jack. “Well now it’s yours.”

 “No, it was yours and it’ll remain yours.”

 “As the owner I am giving its rights to you.”

 “Abraham, it’s a coat.”

 “Still, take it.”

 Jack relented with an overdramatic sigh and took the coat, holding it close to his chest. “Thank you, then.” He leaned up to kiss Abraham’s cheek and slightly his lip, the corner, a pleasant smugness unfolding when Abraham inhaled sharply.

 “Yeah. Uh—see you… maybe tomorrow? Hopefully?” Abraham said, scratching the back of his neck.

 “Definitely. Goodnight, Abraham.”

 “Goodnight, Jack.”

 Abraham went to his car, but not before waving bye, in which Jack waved until the car was not physically in his view. He sighed—a warmth strong in his chest—and proceeded into the house.

 Ted was passed out on the couch, John curled up on his uncle’s chest, and Caroline on the other part of the couch with her arms around Ted’s neck and using his shoulder as a pillow. Patrick was likely already in his crib. It was a cute enough sight (and Ted snoring was slightly funny to him) that he took a photo, making sure he didn’t wake them up, until he went over to silently poke Ted awake.

 Ted groaned quietly. “What…”

 “C’mon, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, you have work in the morning. I’ll get these two to bed.”

 “I can just be late.”

 “No.”

 “Yes.”

 Jack and Ted went back and forth until finally, the eldest sighed. “Don’t blame me if you get lectured.” Then he went upstairs, coat still bundled in his arms, and was barely able to stay awake long enough to shower, change, and brush his teeth.

 He passed right the hell out on his pillow.

-

 The next morning, Jack couldn’t decide if it was as usual. Jack got up, took his pills, brushed his teeth, and put clothes on. Except this time, he went downstairs to find Ted playing online Uno on his phone, and the kids at the table. Jack entirely forgot his brother stayed the night.

 “G’morning.”

 The kids waved, John smiling widely. Caroline had her baby brother in her arms. “Papa! We had so much fun last night!” John cheered.

 Jack smiled tiredly and walked over to ruffle his son’s hair and then began making coffee. “Is that so?”

 “Yeah! We played games n’ ate food and we defeated Uncle Teddy in Blue versus Red!”

 “I was blue and they almost strangled me unconscious to make me tap out,” Ted mumbled from the couch, caught up in his game of Uno.

 Jack snickered as he made the coffee.

 But then once the Uno round was presumably over, Ted put his phone in his pocket and turned to look over the couch with a smug smirk. “How was your date last night? Get piped like a house during construction?”

 The kids didn’t know what it meant, thankfully.

 Ted promptly got an apple juice box at his face at full force.

 With Ted on the ground, Jack decided that, yeah, the morning was as usual.

Chapter Text

 The last Valentine’s Day Jack spent drunkenly singing songs with Jackie, smiling, giggling, warm and fuzzy. That was a good night. As far as he can remember, really. But this time it was going to be different—because he had someone to spend it with romantically again, and because that ‘someone’ was Abraham, a man, and they both had children. Plus, his kids had grown too. Although it wouldn’t present a problem, probably, if they could find out what to do. And he was sure they could. Besides, with Jack’s smarts, and Abraham’s pretty decent craftiness, they could find something to do.

 Jack wasn’t even sure what to do for it. He can get an expensive, materialistic gift, or he can make something himself, or do both and splurge and hope Abraham likes it. He’s not a stranger to spending money in large amounts, how could he be? Kennedy’s had money to flaunt, that was for damn sure. But at the same time Abraham might’ve been one who liked sentimentality more. If he did, Jack was going to have to find out how to do woodwork, or professional knitting, or something (or take Abraham on a romantic night across the shore of Cape Cod someday). The point was that Jack had to figure this shit out and quickly. He had time, definitely, but he also needed to get it right.

 That was why he was currently sitting awake at 3 AM in his kitchen, laptop propped open and burning his eyes, and his glasses on with a cup of coffee beside him. His fourth today. He’d gone through twenty pages of cars, shoes, ties, and more. Needless to say it was either find something in the next five minutes or pass out. He clicked to the next page, scrolled a bit and blinked tiredly. Something had to pop up. No matter what. And if it didn’t? Well, he was kind of fucked, but that would be fine. But it seemed luck was on his side. He scrolled, clicked, and.

…

 It was pretty. A thin bracelet with small, oval-shaped amethyst, not a show-off type bracelet yet able to still glimmer and shine. It wasn’t that expensive, just a little less than eight hundred dollars, which was honestly a pretty cheap cost. He’d seen less for more. The size would likely fit (if not he could find someone to fix it no doubt) and it’d come overnight if he ordered it that second. And without anymore hesitation Jack put it into his cart, went to the cart, and checked out. He made sure he typed it all correctly considering how tired he was and then anticlimactically, he had just spent almost a thousand dollars in five minutes. And honestly? Compared to the money his family had, a thousand dollars was pretty much change. Which sounded as snobbily-rich as one could get.

 Jack finished the coffee, shut his laptop and went upstairs to his bedroom. Tomorrow was a Monday. The idea of being up until 3 AM would come back to bite him in the ass and he was sure of it. But at the same time, it was for Abraham, and anything for Abraham was worth it.

 And if Abraham wasn’t materialistic, wasn’t one to wear jewelry? Well… he knew the man liked cats. And that would have to get him somewhere.

-

 The morning came and Jack woke up to the sounds of the children happily singing downstairs. He let out a tired grunt and took a minute or two to wake up. Being up till three in the morning probably wasn’t a good decision—although he had a feeling he would inevitably do it again. The memory of buying that bracelet comes back, and Jack doesn’t regret it. It was worth it. For the price? A damn steal. Jack got up slowly, checking his phone for any messages, nothing but the classic and heart-warming good morning message from Abraham.

Soulheart

Good morning, darling <3

 Jack smiled a little. Granted, his back was still screaming at him, but he could at least text his boyfriend (god, the thought still sent him into orbit each time he dwelled) back.

Jack

Good morning, dear. <3 And happy birthday. I love you so much it hurts. You better be ready for my kiss when I see you to drop the kids off.

 He got up and went to the bathroom to take his pills and brush his teeth. If he was right, Mondays were probably the least busy for work. Sure, almost every day people either wanted to adopt or inquired about it. But a lot of people did it on the weekends—good thing George kept his store open seven days a week. So honestly, Jack wasn’t that worried about having an abundance of customers. Most people just came by to look at the dogs (or cats) and that was it. He only had to think about at what point the gift would arrive. By there, he’d make a card and deliver both items. But today, he’d dress a bit differently.

 Jack hastily went through his closet and pulled out a crisp, white button-up, and a black tie that looked more or less brand new. He didn’t know if ties could age, but oh well. And he slipped on his best pair of slacks and custom Oxfords that cost no less than three thousand dollars. It wasn’t that much money. At least, to a Kennedy. He made his hair look as good as it could (which was magnificent), sprayed a little cologne on, and smiled in the mirror before finally leaving his room. He’d taken longer to get ready so it was no surprise to see John making a beat on the counter with his hands and Caroline playing with Patrick.

 “Hello Papa!”

 “Daddy why’d you take so long to get dressed?”

 Jack chuckled, walking into the kitchen, ruffling his daughter’s hair as he passed by. “Well, Buttons, dear, Daddy’s celebrating a special day. Can you guess what it is?”

 “Uh. … Valentine’s?”

 As she answered, Jack began putting together his morning coffee. “Close, but no. It’s Mr. Lincoln’s birthday—John’s principal. And as you know, Daddy and Mr. Lincoln are very good friends.” Okay, so ‘very good friends’ was an understatement. He’d literally been skin-to-skin, bodies-connected with the guy, but he would let it live under the pretense of ‘very good friends’ for now.

 John beamed at that. “Oh! Willie told me! He—he said his papa was getting’ older!”

 “Well, Willie was right. Every birthday is another year you grow.” Jack replied, adding the creamer to the coffee. “Later this year, you guys will grow another year, and so will I.”

 “Huh. … So does that mean gifts every time?”

 Jack turned to his son, spoon mixing the creamer, “Well, yeah, up even when you’re older. It doesn’t end when you get too old, or anything like that, don’t worry. I’ll still get you a gift every birthday you have.”

 John smiled wide, clapping his tiny hands a bit. “And will Uncle Bobby and Uncle Ted and Mama and everyone else?”

 “Yep, even them.”

 Jack turned to look at the oven clock, and finished stirring the warm coffee and took a long, long sip. So they’d cut it close on time. Not bad. “We’ll have to rush. That okay with you guys?”

 “Oooh! Does that mean you’ll go super fast?” Caroline asked, eyes suddenly glowing with excitement. She enjoyed the quicker car rides sometimes. Not too fast, but something about how it was thrilling, even for a little child like her. “Like, so fast it’ll blur n’ stuff? In the movies?”

 Jack laughed. “No, not that fast, not with you guys in the car. Just a bit quicker. Got your pre-packed lunches?” He rounded the kitchen counter and walked over to the coatrack, grabbing the sweater that hung there. Sometimes his sweaters got lost around the house. It was a deep red, and he pulled his black tie from it. Now he seemed a bit more professional, charming, … romantic. He forced himself to down the rest of his coffee, since he didn’t have time to finish it.

 The kids pointed at their backpacks. “In there, Papa!” John said.

 Jack sent them an approving smile. One a proud father would wear. And he was more than proud of his kids, they were already such little geniuses and whoever said otherwise would get an angry Irish-America looming over them in seconds. God knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

 “Good. Now c’mon. Here, Caroline, I’ll take your baby brother,” he went back to where his kids sat and picked his baby boy up, giving the infant a kiss on the cheek. “Hey there Pat, what’s up? You lookin’ forward to goin’ in the car with Daddy and your siblings? Hm?”

 He got a wide-eyed look and a little noise in response. Probably a yes.

 “Then let’s go, c’mon,” Jack let the kids shrug their backpacks on before heading out the front door, Caroline happily walking over to Bitches-Love-Me-2000 and John following in her footsteps. Their father wondered briefly if they’d want the car when they got older. Maybe then it’d be Bitches-Love-Me-3000?

 It didn’t matter much—what mattered was getting on time. He had a job to do; woo that principal like his life depended on it.

 The drive was faster than usual. Jack took a different way, though, one to get Caroline in school first. She waited patiently with her backpack still around her frame, Patrick in the middle of the back while she was on the left. Patrick lifted his toy rattle up at her, and she looked down at it, tapping it to make it rattle. When the toy did so, Patrick smiled and made a gurgled-giggle. His eyes shined with happiness and innocence only an infant could have. Caroline smiled and did it again. The baby was enthralled by the noise.

 John was making conversation with his stuffed animal, a deer, named Mr. Antlers. His father got him the stuffed animal two Christmas’ ago and he never let it go. He was vaguely aware of what Valentine’s meant—Willie had talked about it in simple sentences while he played with a Rubix cube, and John fidgeted with a toy in his hand. How it was a holiday for people who loved each other really really much. And how it meant candy and red and presents. That was a simple enough explanation and John wondered if that was why his Papa was so fancy. For John’s principal. The thought made him giggle, Caroline and Patrick busy together, and he leaned into Mr. Antlers’ stuffed ear to whisper.

 “Mr. Antlers, I think Papa is trying to im-pr-ess Mr. Lincoln. What do you think?”

 The toy stared back with beady eyes. John nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

 Jack, meanwhile, was just focusing on getting his kids to school on time—or close to it. He could get Caroline in three minutes before John had to be at his school, and Patrick… Patrick probably wouldn’t care if he stayed with his dad and got to tag along, or was put into daycare. He just… did as it went. Jack thanked his lucky stars Patrick wasn’t too much of a crier.

 He’d turn the radio on but it was entertaining to hear his children be themselves. After all, they were creative kids. He’d be surprised if at least one of them didn’t turn out to write a book. He didn’t dwell too much though, considering they pulled up to Caroline’s school, and he turned to the kids in the back.

 “Alright, Buttons, c’mon.”

 Caroline kissed the crown of Patrick’s head and the baby giggled. She leaned over to kiss her younger brother on the cheek, and he beamed, “When we get home do you wanna play with the dinos Uncle Bobby got us?”

 The girl grinned. “I want the glittery one.”

 “I’ll use the glowy one then.”

 “Can’t be late, Caroline,” Jack butt in from the front seat. Caroline gave John another kiss on the cheek before crawling to the front and giving her father a kiss on the cheek. He smiled and lifted a hand to ruffle her hair. “Have a good day at school, kiddo.”

 “Thanks, Papa.” And then Caroline got out of the car, backpack secured on her, and she ran up to the school. Jack watched his girl go from the steps up to the school, to the front doors, and inside. He felt the momentary anxiety disappear instantly. He would never be able to give up the part of him that feared what could happen to his kids, any day, any time, anywhere. Especially since the family wasn’t exactly obscure. Granted, there was always the simple (not really) installation of bodyguards, and more bodyguards, and more, and perhaps pay his neighbors to let people put motion sensors and cameras on the edge of their property, but that was extensive. Extensive for anyone else. Kennedy’s were different in that regard.

 With Caroline out, Jack started the car up again, and waiting until he was out of the school zone to begin speeding safely—two of his babies were in the car, after all—down the street and take a right to begin the cut to John’s school. Abraham would be there. And the thought made Jack a little nervous. He spared a glance in the rearview mirror—he still looked good, right? Right. Of course he did. He was Jack Kennedy. Jack Fitzgerald Kennedy always dazzled.

 But not dazzling enough for his eldest son, who noticed his father’s behavior, and looked away from his baby brother. “Papa, why are you nerv-ous?”

 “Uh. Well. Papa’s going to be seeing a special person, your principal, so… he’s just a little nervous, is all. Don’t worry John.” Jack replied.

 “Mmm. Like. Love special? Do you love Mr. Lincoln, Papa?”

 That question stunned him a little. He didn’t expect it from his tiny son of five years old. And it made him think. He’d admitted it to himself long ago. That he did; he loved Abraham, and that was probably not conventional considering he was his son’s principal, but… Abraham had a certain pull. A pull that Jack was simply too intrigued to not follow. Smart, kind, gentle, charismatic, witty. That didn’t cover the physical aspects. Such pretty eyes it would make an ocean seem like nothing more than water. Carved, sharp features, soft yet defined, like marble that had been perfectly studied before the blade of creation cut a single crease into it. Everything Jack had admiration for. Everything he liked in someone. And at that point, it didn’t scare him nearly as much to admit he would get down on one knee and propose if it meant he could be with Abraham forever. Sappy, sweet, sickeningly so, yeah, but it was true. But it was almost the day of romance, so he had an excuse.

 “… Yes, I do, John. I love Mr. Lincoln.”

 “Like. Do you wanna marry him?”

 “…Yes. I do.”

 “So why don’t you?”

 Jack reached a stoplight. Yellow. He took the opportunity to turn to his boy. “Well, we’ve only been together a short time, and… I don’t want to push it. And I like it as it is.”

 John absentmindedly began scratching the stuffed animal on the top of its head as he spoke. “Well, why don’t you? You’ll like it too-gether, right?”

 “…I think so.” Jack turned back just in time—the light was green, and he went, likely with only a minute or two to spare. If it was just him in the car then he would be going the highest he legally could, and maybe a bit beyond. But since he had children, his children in the car, he was going to keep it on the hasty-but-not-dangerous side of almost speeding.

 “But that’s besides the point. The point is we need to get you in school. Got your backpack ready and everything? Got your toys, got your lunch, got your spare paper and crayons?”

 John nodded quickly, smile appearing on his young face. “Yeah!” And Jack believed him. The boy may’ve gotten distracted easily but if he set himself onto a task, he did it, and at his age, that was either hard to believe or expected. It was always worth it in the end. And it presented a good skillset for him as he got older—no doubt John would end up liking space or a sort of job where he gets to debate for a living. He’d already made himself look pretty strong verbally when he and Caroline made their dolls argue with one another.

 Thankfully the school came in view quickly, and as soon as Jack stopped, John was leaning over to get himself out of his seat. Jack slid out of the car and helped him out, adjusting the admittedly falling backpack. “Ready for another school day?” he asked.

 John grinned wide at him, a missing tooth on the side from a recent baby tooth falling out. “Yes, Papa!”

 Jack wasn’t about to leave Patrick alone in a car for too long, so he would make this short, as much as he wanted to be in Abraham’s presence for hours at a time. They went up to the school together, and John happily ran in, the doors swinging. He knew his classes—so he turned to wave his dad goodbye and proceeded to run into a classroom.

 Jack smiled fondly and then slowly made his way through the halls, to the familiar wooden door with the brass plate. He knocked.

 “Come in.”

 He opened it slowly, and closed it behind him just as much. Abraham lifted his head from the paperwork, and slid his reading glasses off. He was smiling within seconds. “Jack!”

 Jack’s face broke into a wide grin, and he stepped forward, taking the time to sweetly connect his lips to Abraham’s. It was sweet, perhaps a little passionate, and Jack savored the taste of coffee on the other man’s lips. He ended it before it could get… intense, though, and pulled back.

 “Hello there.”

 Abraham’s smile grew, cheeks a flushed red. “Kissing me like that and then saying hello seems like the wrong pattern.” He said. Jack sat himself on the edge of the table and smoothed Abraham’s hair back.

 “Happy birthday, Abraham.” He said, “I’m glad I get to be present for this one. I’ll keep it short but… I want to spend so many more with you. And see you smile, and laugh, and I want to see your eyes glow with mirth. I want to be the reason they glow. And if you’ll let me, I will.”

 Abraham’s gaze dramatically softened, and his eyes shined with as much love as he could feel. “Jack, that’s… that’s so sweet. Thank you.”

 “Of course. I ordered you something but it isn’t here yet. Mind if I swing by later to give it to you?”

Abraham shook his head. “Don’t mind at all. Or I could come by, just call me. I wouldn’t want you making someone babysit the kids for what would probably be a twenty minute leave, and I wouldn’t want them alone, either.” His fingers toyed with a pencil while he said it. Jack was mesmerizing, taking his attention, and his body wanted to stay occupied.

 Jack chuckled. “Yeah, me neither. I don’t want to come back to an utterly destroyed house. But that works, I guess.”

 “Want to sit?” Abraham said, eyes landing on the chair in front of him and behind Jack, but Jack shook his head. He wanted to—wanted to spend the entire day with Abraham, the man deserved it, but he couldn’t.

 “I’d love to, but my baby boy is out in the car alone, and I’d much rather make sure he’s okay.”

 “…I can walk you out?” Abraham offered, “We can talk still. And I won’t pass up an offer to say hello to an adorable baby.”

 Jack’s smile widened. Leave it to his boyfriend to be such a considerate person. “Alright, that works. If you can leave your office early and not worry about anything going missing, or anyone getting in trouble.” He got off the edge of the desk, taking Abraham’s hand when the man stood up. Abraham laughed a little.

 “Yeah, I think I can.”

 They walked out of the school together, and once they approached the car, Jack tapped on the windows of the backseats. Patrick’s head swiveled and those wide eyes looked at both men—Abraham waved hi, unsure if the baby liked him or not. Thankfully, Patrick smiled and cooed, gurgled, hands reaching for his father. Jack broke into a wide beaming grin and Abraham let himself smile softly.

 “He’s one cute baby, Jack.”

 “I know. And he’s my sweet boy.”

 “Can imagine.” Abraham turned to look at Jack, giving him a kiss on the side of his forehead. “Please reassure me the gift you got me wasn’t too expensive?”

 Jack looked up, grin turning playful. “If you count expensive as more or less eight hundred dollars, then I can’t reassure you about a lie.”

 Abraham’s jaw dropped. “Eight… eight hundred dollars? That’s almost—Jack, that’s almost a thousand dollars.”

 Jack just shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know. But it’s worth it, because it’s you. Besides, it isn’t like I’m poor. I have more money than I know what to do with in an account. I could buy you, like, ten new houses, and more. It’s fine.”

 “Fine? Jack, it’s…” The taller trailed off. He knew he wouldn’t win the fight, and Jack was far too handsome to be argued with. “…Please don’t spend too much money on me. It’s super sweet and I love you more than I even knew I could love, but please don’t. I’m fine with cheap gifts from the dollar store and handmade cards.”

 Jack shrugged. “You deserve better, honey. You deserve the world.” He paused. “…I wonder if I could buy you a portion of land…?”

 “Jack.”

“Okay, okay, but I’m not going to lie, I could.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I don’t want you to. I don’t need a portion of land.” Abraham said, a smile crossing his face regardless. It was a funny idea. But he knew better than to entertain it. One wrong impression and he could end up with likely fifty acres of land or more.

 “Well, you’d deserve it. I’ll see you later.” Jack leaned up to kiss Abraham on the cheek, and got a satisfying red blush from the man in response. He slipped into the car but didn’t close the door.

 “Yeah, see you later, Jack, drive safely.”

 “I’ll try.”

 And then he shut the door, did his buckle, and started the car. He blew a kiss to Abraham as he began driving, and Abraham did the motion of catching it, and smiled like a man head over heels. Because he was—they both were. It was so obvious to… everyone. Hell, Jackie said she caught him staring dumbly at a photo on his phone more often than not. And Bobby said he brought up Abraham at least three times throughout a conversation. Jack couldn’t exactly deny that—he did and he knew it. But if they were as in love as he was, they’d understand.

 He continued until he reached Patrick’s daycare. But instead of immediately deciding to get out of the car and bring his boy inside, he let out a sigh, and turned to look at the baby.

 “You really don’t understand how complex emotions can be, do you, Pat?”

 The child looked up at him with big round eyes. His mother’s. It made Jack’s heart melt, both for the woman he still loved enough to die for without hesitation, and for Patrick himself, his youngest, and his tiny little treasure. Jack promised himself he would protect his baby with everything he had the moment Patrick was born, as he did Caroline and John.

 “…You’ll see how the world is, kiddo, and… and it’ll suck sometimes but it’ll be okay. You can navigate it.” Jack reached a hand out, put his index finger and thumb on Patrick’s soft cheek. “I know you can. You’re a Kennedy. And Kennedy’s are strong.”

 …

 Patrick just smiled, unaware of what that meant, and used his baby hand to pat his father’s hand. Jack smiled wide and laughed. Yeah, okay, that was fair.

 -

 Work went by pretty damn quickly. That was to say, it was the same amount of time, same thing, same moments of mostly just petting the dogs instead of doing paperwork. Jack did do his work, but the dogs were too cute and he was merely human. George checked in twice—both times with Jack holding or petting a dog or two. And honestly, George couldn’t blame him, so as long as he got his work done, it was fine.

 Jack took the usual way to pick his kids up. He got Patrick first. The baby was fast asleep when he got him, a small frog plush in hand, and Jack was told he could keep it. He certainly didn’t pass the opportunity up.

 When he got to Caroline’s school, the girl came rushing over, full of energy.

  Caroline jumped into his arms, ecstatic. “Papa! We made paper hearts to string up for Val-en-tine’s and it was so fun! We all got candy and I got gummy bears and a Hershey’s! Can you believe that, Papa?”

 Jack smiled, picking his girl up. She was getting pretty big. “Yeah, I can. So I assume you had fun?”

 “So much fun, Papa! I can’t wait to tell John all about it!”

 “Then c’mon, let’s pick ‘im up. Get in, hon.” He responded warmly, putting her down and opening one of the backdoors for his daughter to climb in. Caroline got into her usual seat. Patrick was already in the middle asleep, rattle in one hand, tiny frog plush in the other.

 Jack began the calm drive to John’s school, his heart slightly picking up when he remembered he could see Abraham. He listened to Caroline chatter excitedly about her time at school. In English they went over a bunch of sappy romance poems. In History, the history of Valentine’s. They didn’t have Math. And in everything else it was pretty much either making red potions for love or doing activities like crafts. It seemed fun even if a bit early. Jack listened intently, making sure he got every detail his daughter told him. He wasn’t one to tune out his kids when they rambled. He wanted to make sure he was the best parent he could be, even if it meant having to listen to a two-hour rant about the color purple, sometimes, and if the color or the fruit came first.

 When he made it to John’s school, he slowed, stepping out just like he did Caroline. John was playing with Willie and Quentin in the sandbox, but when he spotted his dad he gave them both quick hugs before toddling off to his dad.

 “Papa!”

 Jack grinned and picked John up. “Good day at school, kiddo?”

 “Yeah! We had so much fun!” John exclaimed.

 “Good, good, I want you to have fun.” Jack encouraged, looking up to the blurry window of Abraham’s office. He got a smile and a wave from the blurry figure inside—unfortunate he couldn’t come out, but reasonable. Likely swamped with work within those few hours. “Ready to head home?”

 John grinned wide, youthful eyes shining. “Mhm!”

 When he got into the car, he began talking with his sister, while Jack drove slowly. He was pretty sure the gift must’ve come. At least, he hoped. If it was late, that’d… that’d suck. A lot.

 The first hour or so after arriving home was slow; Jack began to make dinner, chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs for the kids, a pretty simple reheating of spaghetti and a thing of homemade garlic bread Jackie had brought over two days ago. It was somehow still buttery, garlic-y, and soft, and he definitely had to ask her how she did it.

 It was only after they were done eating that he heard a knock at the door, and he turned away from the children on the living room floor playing to get up, and open the front door. Nobody was there, but there was a box on the welcome mat, and he bent down to pick it up.

 “What’s in it, Papa?” Caroline asked once she saw it, pausing the motion of her superhero figure hitting an imaginary wall.

 Jack was pretty sure it was Abraham’s gift, and so he responded, “A thing for Mr. Lincoln, Caroline.” He grabbed a knife from the kitchen, sliced the tape, and opened the cardboard box. Inside was a beautiful purple velvet box surrounded by bubble wrap.

 He carefully picked it up, unwrapping it and admiring. The velvet was soft and silky, not cheap, not too fuzzy, not too silky, not oily feeling. He’d felt a lot of velvet in his days (having Kennedy money meant silk was the same as cotton; easy to get) and it was just right. He opened the box slowly.

 The beautiful, radiant bracelet inside made the purchase more than worth it, and it made him almost grin. He knew Abraham would like it. The gold was shining in the kitchen light and the amethyst seemingly reflected off of everything. Shiny, expensive, and yet, practical. Not too much. Not a statement piece. Something small, yet meaningful. Valuable yet fragile. Sort of like a relationship.

 “…Kids, could you play upstairs?” because he knew he didn’t want his kids seeing him probably make out with Abraham in the doorway.

 John and Caroline didn’t mind. They laughed and shrieked up the stairs, up to their playroom. Jack pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Abraham. He let himself ogle the bracelet while he did so.

 Ring…

Ring…

“Jack, hey, what’s up?” Abraham’s voice rang through his ears.

 “Babe, babe, I need you to come over.”

“…And why is that?” Jack could hear the smile in the man’s voice.

“’Cause your gift came.”

“I’ll be there in ten. Ulysses is over right now.”

“Amazing. Love you, Abraham, see you in ten minutes. God, I can’t wait for you to see this thing. It’s so beautiful.”

Abraham laughed. “Alright, alright, I’m coming. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Abraham hung up, and Jack couldn’t contain his grin from growing wider, stretching his cheeks. This was going to be perfect—he knew it. He closed the velvet box and put it back into the bubble wrap and cardboard. Abraham would either like it a lot or not like it. He just hoped the man liked it, liked jewelry. Liked what Jack got him. If not, that was fine. Totally fine. He could make it up on Valentine’s. But right now, Jack’s heart felt like it could leap out of his chest.

 He paced the kitchen and made sure his hair was perfect, racing upstairs for a second to spray a single bit of cologne, and made sure his tie was on straight (something he could never be). He couldn’t get rid of the grin on his face. This was exciting. More than. Yeah, he was a grown man with his kid’s principal coming over to see a bracelet Jack got for him, but he felt like a teen with a partner coming over for the first time. It filled him with adrenaline and nervousness.

 When the knock on the door surfaced, he sped over, opening the door as fast as he could.

 Abraham stood tall as always in the same outfit, yet more casual. Top button of his shirt undone and tie nowhere to be seen, hair a bit messier, belt still on yet he just seemed more relaxed. And looked downright delectable. Jesus, if the kids weren’t upstairs… he’d tell Abraham to ask Ulysses to watch the kids, just so he could… he wasn’t going to fantasize, he had a job to do, and that was show his boyfriend his birthday gift.

 “Hey,” Jack started, aware that he probably looked manic. “Come in, come in, it’s, like, really beautiful, I can’t wait for you to see it.”

 Abraham stepped in and Jack shut the door behind him. He could feel his heartbeat somehow pound harder. “I hope it isn’t too beautiful,” Abraham joked, “might blind me and I won’t be able to see you anymore. That’d really really suck.”

 Jack laughed and dragged the man over to the couch, sitting them both down. “Oh, so you’re just with me for my looks?”

 Abraham chuckled. “It’s a plus, yeah, but you also have the best personality I could ever ask for in someone.”

 “Aww, you make me blush.”

 “You make me blush… more.”

 Jack laughed again as Abraham’s cheeks reddened. “Okay, fair. Now open it up.” He shoved the box into the other man’s hands, and long thin fingers slowly moved the top of the box to the side.

 Abraham picked the bubble-wrapped velvet box up in awe. “Jack, it’s already so… pretty. I like it already and I don’t even know what’s in the box.” He commented. He unwrapped the bubble wrap and pushed the top of the box open, and…

 His eyes widened, jaw dropped. “…Jack…” he seemed to be taken aback in complete shock. Jack couldn’t help a proud and happy giggle from leaving him.

 “Y’like it?”

 Abraham carefully moved the bracelet out of its plush holder, and put the box on his lap. “I… I love it. I love it so much. It’s… beautiful. It’s more than beautiful, even… it’s… Jack, it’s…” he struggled for words, looking at every amethyst on it. “… It’s perfect.”

 Jack gently took the bracelet and his partner’s right wrist, “I’m glad you like it. Want me to put it on?”

 “…Please.” Abraham said, looking like a blushing bride, as the groom put the ring on her finger. Jack put the bracelet around his wrist and Abraham watched the breathtaking bracelet glimmer while he rotated his wrist in the fluorescent light above.

 Jack felt pride shoot through him. Yeah, Abraham liked it. Yeah, he got the right gift. This was perfect. He didn’t screw it up. And, if he was honest, part of him really liked the thought of Abraham covered in gifts he got him, a way to say he had a ridiculously rich partner who adored him. Or maybe he just liked the thought of people knowing Abraham was his amazing boyfriend. Either one worked.

 “I’m… so happy you like it. I was nervous, I have to say,” Jack admitted, “but you like it, so it’s fine. Happy birthday, Abraham.”

 Abraham’s eyes locked onto his. And Jack doesn’t know who leaned in, but their lips softly connected. Jack closed his eyes and lifted a hand to Abraham’s cheek. He could feel his cheeks burn and his heart slowed down, but love filled him, overtook his senses.

 Before they could get further than making out on the couch, Abraham broke the kiss, lips swollen. “…We are not doing it on a couch.”

 “I mean, I wouldn’t mind.” Jack said.

 Abraham flushed even harder. “I know, but I’m not about to sleep with you on a couch with three kids upstairs, and my own waiting for me back home. I want to—really, but, I just… don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 Jack swallowed, catching his breath. “Yeah, makes sense, that’s fine. Totally fine. Like, entirely. You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. But just remember that I still want to ride you until I can’t move a muscle.”

 The taller man seemed to be waging a war with himself on either kissing Jack senseless or just covering his face and screaming. “…Yeah. … Okay. …I think I’ll go now before Ulysses wonders what’s happening.”

 Jack leaned away from where he began to lean on top of Abraham, relaxing into the couch. “Good idea. Tell the kids I said hi, tell Ulysses I said hi too.”

 “M’kay, love you, uh, and, thanks for the bracelet, it’s… it’s amazing and I don’t know how to thank you. It’s so pretty.”

 Jack smiled like the lovesick idiot he was. “No problem at all. Here, let me,” he got up, softly pulling his lover up with him, smoothing out some wrinkles in the fabric. “Happy birthday, again. I love you.”

 “…I love you too, Jack.” They shared one more brief kiss before Jack led Abraham out the door, making sure the man had the velvet box, and once the door closed, Jack’s shoulders sagged. God, he was so in love it hurt. And… and also really turned on. That too. A shower was in order.

 -

 On Valentine’s, Jack had a plan. It’d been too long in his opinion since he and Abraham got farther than kissing, and he was still not over what happened on the man’s birthday. So he decided he’d take the kids to school like normal and wait until he got John to his class to knock on the Principal’s Office door. He had a dark red button-up on, a fitting pair of slacks, and shoes so expensive it said ‘I’ll sue you for every penny and say it’s loose change.’

 “Come in.”

 Jack stepped in, smiling instantly. He pulled a rose from his back pocket. Cheesy, but sweet. Abraham turned from the shelves behind him and his own smile graced his face.

 “Jack, you’re sweet. Happy Valentine’s, dear,” he walked over, kissing Jack on the cheek and taking the rose. “I’ll put it in a vase with water.”

 “Okay. Happy Valentine’s to you too. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since your birthday. Like, at all.” Jack paused, and added, “I can still taste you on my lips if I think hard enough,” and that got Abraham flushing instantly, striding to put the rose in a vase in front of a window before back to Jack.

 “That’s—God, you’re smooth without trying, huh?”

 Jack charmingly smiled. His famous smile. “I guess so.”

 “Well, it’s not a bad thing. Do you have any other motive for coming or did you just want to see me and be romantic?”

 Jack didn’t answer right away, but slowly bit his lip, smile turning a little flirtatious. “Well… your kids are in school, right?”

 “Yes?”

 “And mine are too, right?”

“..Right?”

“…So we have a few hours together, granted you’re on top of your paperwork, and I took the day off.”

Abraham took a minute to piece it together, but once he did, his eyebrows raised. “…You’e not saying. I mean, are you…” he trailed off momentarily and swallowed. He quietly finished. “…Are you saying you want to… go to your place or mine, and… have sex?”

 Jack couldn’t help himself from chuckling, amusement mixing with his suggestive look. Sometimes Abraham could get so flustered. He was sure that sexting they did—took a lot of convincing—had him red the entire time, and deliciously so.

 “Yes, I am. Only if you want to.”

 …

 …

 “Please.”

 Jack couldn’t have dragged the man out of the building fast enough. Bitches-Love-Me-2000 was primed for this. He went the normal speed limit until he was out of the school zone, in which he basically speeded his way down the road, Abraham in the passenger’s, their knees touching, and damn was he excited. Desire and adrenaline swirled within him.

 The drive was obviously quick. He chose his house. A quicker drive, and it just seemed natural. Jack dragged Abraham out of the car and up the stairs, in which he fiddled with the key to open the door. The door swung open and Jack closed it, locked it. Within milliseconds he had Abraham against it and their lips were deeply connected. Two perfect pieces of a puzzle.

 Jack had his hands on Abraham’s collar, and Abraham hesitantly put a hand into Jack’s perfect hair. Jack sucked down on Abraham’s bottom lip and the taller groaned quietly, lips meeting again needier. Jack pressed a knee between Abraham’s long legs and he nearly grinned when he felt that familiar hardness beneath the fabric of slacks.

 “Jack, we—we’re not, not on a door,” Abraham breathed out, even as he slightly rolled his hips into Jack’s knee.

 “No, not on a door, you’re right,” Jack said, even as he kissed Abraham again, “bed. Bed right now. C’mon.” They didn’t part for a moment, dancing through the living room and up the stairs. Jack pressed Abraham against the railing at least once.

 The bedroom door swung open by the force of the men’s bodies and Jack let his legs hit the bed’s frame, hands quickly unbuttoning his partner’s shirt. Abraham was breathing oh so heavily already. But Jack stopped once he got to Abraham’s chest, running his hands over each inch of warm skin.

 “…Can I do as I wanted and ride you until neither of us can move?”

 Abraham just barely suppressed a whine. “Jack, please.”

 And god, it was the most sinful noise Jack ever heard.

 Jack was quick to swing them around and push Abraham down on the bed. Said man scooted up until his head rested on the pillows, and as he did so, unbuckled his belt. Jack almost ripped his own shirt off in haste to undress. Everything was so warm, too warm, and he needed this. He needed Abraham. He was a starving man and Abraham was the most nutritious thing in the world.

 “Dresser, top drawer, lube’s in there, ‘long with a condom if you wanna use one,” Jack panted out, sliding his slacks off. They were the tightest pair he owned and his erection didn’t exactly make them feel any easier to wear. Abraham’s hands scrambled to open the dresser, pulling out a half-filled thing of lube.

 “Do you think we should use a condom?” Abraham asked, shakily opening the lube but not yet putting any on his fingers. He still had to get fully naked—only halfway there. He finished taking his shirt off, slid his belt and pants down. “If you want to, we can, I don’t care, I just—I just want you so bad Jack, I do.”

 Jack couldn’t help a smile and watched Abraham take his shoes and socks off, now only in his underwear. It hid almost nothing from the shorter’s inappropriately intense gaze, raking over the tall, handsome, muscular form on his bed. His bed. He was the luckiest fucking man on Earth.

 He swallowed, and crawled onto the bed, over Abraham’s legs, straddling him. “It’s all up to you, baby.” He murmured, running a hand lightly down Abraham’s torso. Abraham shuddered under the fingers running down his chest, and his stomach, to the small happy trail leading into his boxers.

 “…Just—just to be safe,” Abraham managed, reaching into the drawer to pull the foil packet out. And Jack wasn’t upset in the slightest. Hell, it aroused him even more that Abraham wanted to be careful.

 But as a tease, he moved his hips down against Abraham’s and drifted a hand over the man’s nipple. A moan came from Abraham, soft yet wanting. He opened the foil packet and took a deep breath. “Do you—want me to, to, uh, prep you, or—?”

 Jack shook his head. “No, I’ll do it.” He leaned down to grab the lube, but kissed Abraham as he did so. He could feel his blood burn in his veins when he felt those lovely lips on his, the fire in his stomach burning even higher. All of the blood in his head went right down to the erection in his boxers. Yet he still thought, I love you so much, Abraham.

 Jack pulled his boxers down slowly. He felt relief fill him when the fabric stopped restraining his now-achingly hard cock, and Abraham’s pupils grew twice their size. Jack would’ve chuckled if he was more put together. His hand reached to give himself a slow stroke, shivering when he did so, other hand popping the cap of the lube open.

 “Jack, you’re… you’re so handsome. You’re perfect. You’re an angel.” Abraham commented heavily, eyes taking in the sight. He could barely believe it. “A sinful one, but an angel nonetheless.” His large hands softly went to hold Jack’s hips.

 Jack could feel his desire grow with the praise. Those words seemed like an aphrodisiac all by themselves when it came from the man he loved.

 He took his hand from his cock to pour the cold lube on two fingers. He closed the bottle and put it on the dresser. Shifting, getting a noise from Abraham, he pushed the two fingers inside of himself, closing his eyes and feeling like the sun was beaming down on him from the rush of heat through his body. Relief, desire, need, it filled him. Carnal need for Abraham ran through him like his own blood.

 It was quick work to open himself up, and they shared deep, passionate kisses as he did so. Jack trailed kisses down Abraham’s neck and then began to suck down on some skin on his collarbone. Abraham didn’t expect it, so he jolted. A downright lewd noise left him and it made Jack’s erection twitch, pre-come leaking out of his tip.

 The hickey was sucked on softly, lovingly. Not just a mark someone would leave in the spur of the moment but a sign of his love. Of how much he loved the man beneath him. This was intentional, deliberately placed, not just in the heat of the moment. Yes, the first time they fucked, he remembered leaving so many marks it left Abraham looking like a canvas and him the greedy artist. But this time… it was different.

 They were making love.

 “I love you so, so much, Abraham, so much,” Jack mumbled against the hot and sweaty skin. He could taste the salt of said sweat, and he pulled his fingers out of himself to run the fingers up and tweak his lover’s nipple again. Abraham groaned.

 He finally pulled Abraham’s underwear down, biting his lip as Abraham arched under the freeing touch. His own length was red and hard, just begging to be touched, and as soon as Jack wrapped a hand around it, Abraham’s hips bucked a bit. “Jack…” the man moaned.

 “I know. I know. Just wait a little longer…” Jack took the opened condom packet and took the condom out, slightly tricky since one hand was wet with pre-come and clammy. He handed it to Abraham’s shaking hands. “…You’re such a picture, I swear… I wish I could just take a picture of you and remember this forever.”

 Abraham chuckled breathlessly, rolling the condom onto his cock. “Maybe… maybe I should s—send you nudes, like you asked me once… think you’d like them, maybe…”

 “Maybe? I’d worship them. Like I want to worship you.”

 Abraham wondered if it was possible to blush this much and still be fully able to function. “You’re such a charmer, Jack, I mean it…” he swallowed, grabbing the lube bottle, opening it to pour some onto himself.

 Jack smiled devilishly. “I know.”

 With both of them ready, Abraham put his hands onto Jack’s hips, and Jack put his hands onto Abraham’s shoulders. Both of them were breathing as heavy as one could. They kissed softly, calming each other, and when Jack slowly slid down, Abraham groaned heavily into the other’s mouth. Jack captured his lips into a deep and hot kiss when he sunk down fully.

 It was far more than passionate. Jack slowly moved his hips up and down at first, rolling them when he was fully seated on Abraham’s cock, earning a little noise each time that only encouraged him. He wrapped a hand around his shaft and made small strokes in time with the movement of his hips. Abraham was, to put it simply, a mess under him, moaning and whimpering when Jack moved his hips just a little forward.

 “Love you, so much, damnit,” he breathed against Jack’s lips, slightly thrusting upwards when their hips collided. Jack moaned lowly and sped up a bit. They were basically taking in the other’s oxygen—lightheaded, dizzy, so hot it almost hurt, and needy to an extent that pushed to primal. Jack’s pace grew faster and faster, never crossing into too fast, but enough it had both men making their fair share of noises.

 “Abraham, fuck, fuck, love you so much,” Jack moved quicker, harder, stroking himself in time still. His lips roughly melted into Abraham’s.

 Considering they weren’t exactly young, this was rare, and it made it all the more intense. The air seemed thick and they were both hot, Jack’s hips scorching hot against Abraham’s. Abraham held onto his hips tighter but kept his hold gentle. He rubbed his thumbs into the soft skin below. His hands were sort of rough, likely from work throughout his life, and it made Jack groan into the kiss, kiss him harder and ride him quicker.

 “I’m—I—” Abraham stammered when he felt his orgasm approach, nerves on fire, fireworks popping across his skin. Jack nodded as much as he could managed and caught his lips into a kiss again.

 “I-I know, c’mon, come for me, Abraham, come for me—”

 Abraham threw his head back into the pillows and let out a long, airy moan, cock twitching and pulsing as he came. He filled the condom up. Jack stroked himself faster and grinded his hips down, closing his eyes and running his thumb over the slit of his tip, across the underside of his shaft, and with a twist of his wrist, he cried out as he came, warm come pooling across Abraham’s stomach and chest.

 He moved a little while he rode his climax out but came to a still, both of them breathing heavily, minds fuzzy. Jack slumped against the hard frame beneath him and felt his heart ring in his ears. God. God. It was good. It was so fucking good. Perfect. He never wanted to move. Muscles in his thighs felt sore, but it was fine, more than, because he got to spend time like this with Abraham.

 It took them a few minutes but eventually Jack slowly got off of his boyfriend. Abraham shakily sat up, discarding of the condom, flopping back against the soft bed and running a hand threw his messy hair.

 Jack got onto trembling legs and got a bunch of toilet paper from the bathroom, wiping the come off of himself, and went to wipe it off of Abraham, until the man stopped him.

 “Wait. I… I want to…” Abraham hesitantly moved a hand down to the come on his stomach. He dipped two fingers into a bit of it and…

…

No way.

“…Did you just taste my come?” Jack said, cock twitching a bit, yet spent. That was the most intense climax he’s had in a minute. Abraham swallowed the substance in his mouth and nodded, smiling goofily, far too goofily for what he just did.

 “Yeah. Tastes… pretty good.”

 “…You say I’m the charmer, but you just did that.”

 “Well. It’s not charming, just, well, a thing. I guess.” Abraham shrugged, and got a kiss on the nose from Jack, then a kiss on the forehead, and both cheeks.

 “Well it’s hot as hell. We can rest for a minute before we get up, get you back to work?” Jack suggested, collapsing next to the taller man, a lanky arm coming around him.

 “Sounds good to me…” Abraham replied. “…Love you, Jack.”

 “Love you too, Abraham. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 “Happy Valentine’s Day, Jack.”

 Nobody could figure out their happy moods for the rest of the day, except for Ulysses and Jackie when Jack told her over a glass of wine in his hand and the phone up to his ear, and that was fine with them.

 Love was in the air that day, that was for damn sure.

Chapter Text

 Holidays, Jack found, never were easy.

 Money was great. Preparing courses of food and drinks? Not so much. It’d also be the first Thanksgiving he’d spend with people who weren’t his family. He wanted to spend it with Abraham and his family. That meant disappointing his parents (less disappointing, more so they can’t scrutinize his appearance actively) but if he got to have a nice, fine night with his boyfriend, he could do it. He would do it.

 Plus, Abraham indulged himself by sending Jack pictures of cats in turkey outfits or with Pilgrim hats. Needless to say, it’d been convincing enough. Not that Jack needed convincing.

 And the kids, well, they seemed fine with anything as long as they got food. Which was a pretty reasonable way to look at things, it seemed.

 Another plus; they’d already spent one holiday together. Well, less a holiday, more a celebration. It was the Fourth. Red, white, blue. Glittery stars and sparklers. Fireworks that explode with a sharp contrast of soaring gunpowder and booming colors in the deep, dark sky. It’s loud and different from Thanksgiving. Where as this holiday is more about food and spending time with his loved ones, Jack would always like the colors that filled the sky that night. His lover’s hand in his own.

 He’s sitting on the edge of his bed when he thinks of it, and he smiles, wiping at his eyes. Having just woken up; his alarm turned off, and the sun threatening to blind him if he so much as touches the window curtains.

-

 The sound of fireworks was loud in Jack’s ears.

 It’s the fourth of July—which, normally, Jack and the kids celebrated by smores outside and watching fireworks. If they were spending the summer with his family, they’d set some off themselves. They had learned not to let Ted handle them after he nearly shot it off in his own face.

 The popping of colored fuel is beautiful in the sky. Jack looks at the clock across the kitchen—it’s eight-pm. Just right. He’d asked Abraham if they could spend this little festivity together, at the park just a few blocks from Jack’s house. And all he got in reply was an excited,

 Of course! :) I’ll ask the kids. <3

 It was expected, really, and Jack would be a liar if he said he didn’t smile widely at the text. Another firework goes off outside. In this neighborhood the fireworks are going to be going off until at least three-am. Hell, sometimes four, five-am. Not that he’s complaining. He knew there were earplugs somewhere in the house if the kids did though.

 “Papa!” Caroline called from upstairs, tiny pitter-patters of her feet coming down the stairs.

 She’s in a velvety blue dress with a white star clip in her hair. She’d originally wanted this tacky glittery dress, but Jack knew the glitter was A. the type that got everywhere, and B. the type that was itchy. So he decided to find a cute dress from a year ago and dig out a star clip. It may have not been red, but her little grin was charming enough to distract.

 John-John came down too, holding Patrick in his arms. The baby was wearing a little onesie with a ‘Fourth of July’ slapped onto it with sewn-in stars and blue and red fireworks.

 And finally John-John himself—red t-shirt, white khaki shorts, and his shoes that had yellow stars on them. They weren’t exactly the most on brand, but it fit, and he looked adorable as always.

 Jack smiled down at his little trio, “Hey. You guys look adorable.” He said, and walked over from the counter to ruffle John’s hair, and pat Caroline’s head. He wouldn’t forget his youngest though, absolutely not. So he bent down, picked Patrick up from his brother’s arms, and propped him up in his own.

 “Hey, little man,” he grinned at his boy, and kissed his cheek. The baby giggled and gave a tiny smile, touching his father’s face. Jack’s grin widened.

 “There’s a bunch-a loud noises,” John stated, a squishy little star fidget toy in hand. It doubled as a squish and a toy to press buttons with. Blue and red buttons decorated the thing, and even if it was a bit expensive, it was absolutely nothing compared to the kid’s custom spaceship bed frame coming in the next few days.

 “It’s so loud, Papa. Are they the fireworks?”

 Jack nodded affirmatively, “They are, John, and we’re gonna go to the park to see them.”

 Caroline cheered, clapping her hands together. “The park?”

 He loved when they got all excited and happy. It was one of the joys of being a dad; seeing your little kiddos get happy and smiley, nothing able to beat the mirth inside of them. And Jack repeated, “the park, yes. But not alone—We’ll be going with…” He paused. He could say it now, make the kids even happier.

 But where was the fun in that?

 “Some special people.”

 John-John’s enticed, it was clear. “Who?” he asked, with all of the young wonder one boy could have. His hands were absentmindedly hitting the buttons on the star.

 “Well,” Jack gave him another soft grin, “that’s for you to find out when we get there.”

 His phone dinged with a notification, and he maneuvered one hand to pull it out from his back pocket.

  Soulheart

Off to the park now. See you there, Jack. <3

 He knew that he and the kids would have to get going, too. It was a good ten minute drive. Very short, and very optimal, considering he was also impatient to see his boyfriend. Boyfriend. It still surprised him that he was really with Abraham of all people. Abraham, the same guy he met and immediately deemed handsome. Abraham, his kid’s principal. Abraham, the insanely tall, sweet, kindhearted man he took a chance with and ended up getting a reward of a great boyfriend.

 He smiled, texted back.

 Jack

See ya. <3

 It was instantly read, and Jack, satisfied, put his phone back into his pocket. His own outfit was fairly simple. Dark blue long-sleeve with even darker red stripes. Knit, cozy, but light, it wasn’t really cold. Black pants and some white loafers. Simple, but fitting. Simple, but charming.

 “You guys ready to go out?”

 The nods were instant.

 “Then c’mon!” he turned, and headed for the front door, aware of his kids following him like ducklings. It was a bit of a struggle to open the door with one hand, but he managed. Of course he did. He was Jack Fitzgerald Kennedy, and a damn door was not about to make him fall over on his ass.

 Bitches-Love-Me-3000 was shined and polished, the sleek color being a backdrop for the colors of orange, blue, green, all crowning the surroundings. Firework fog was a thick haze, and you couldn’t see more than thirty feet in front of you. Despite that, it would be safe to drive. You just needed your lights on. And after a repair of his lights, some dick had dinged them, Jack was confident.

 John-John and Caroline both ooo’d and awe’d at the colors in the dark sky. The sky was like a twinkling canvas, but the real design was the fireworks. The holiday was loud and perhaps more about the food and corporations going tacky for a day, and it was rare to see real celebration of the country itself, but the fireworks were something you could appreciate for its glamor.

 Jack slid into the car just as both of them climbed in, John on the left, Caroline the right, and their father moved and swiveled around in his seat to strap Patrick into the middle. The baby made his own fair share of noises, looking up with round eyes at the fireworks. Even as a child he was amused. Consciously, Jack remembered there was a pair of working but old earphones in the middle compartment. Not earplugs, but a close substitute—he could give the kids his phone (although move a bunch of apps off the home screen. He was not letting them find Amazon.) and let them listen to music.

 “You two excited?” He asked, even if he knew the answer.

 “Yeah!” Caroline exclaimed, nearly bouncing in her seat. “It’s so cool outside!”

 Proof of that was John-John smooshing his face on the window, eyes sparkling like comets as each firework blew up. He was utterly enthralled.

 Jack kept his eyes on the road, though, lights on and attention focused. “It is. And I’ll spray you guys with bug spray as soon as we get out, okay?”

 “So the mo-quit-os don’t get us, right?”

 “Mhm. But it’s mosquitos.” Jack corrected his girl gently, “and you’ll learn more about them later, probably, in life, Buttons. But all you got to know now is they bite you and it’s all itchy. Remember last time, when you were itchin’ for weeks?”

 Caroline bobbed her head as solemnly as a child could, looking down. “Yeah… it didn’t feel good.”

 “No, it didn’t,” Jack agreed with her, “so this time, I have a bunch of bug spray.”

 John-John managed a tiny mutter of, “’s so b’ut’iful.” Against the window, still basically gluing himself to the sight.

 Pop, crack, fireworks were still going off. Jack could see the colors vaguely from the view of the front window.

 And it seemed Patrick agreed, because he let out a noise, clapping his hands together. He was more than adorable. And Caroline grinned and patted his head, “Yeah! The fireworks go clap!” she clapped too, just to demonstrate.

 Jack smiled a little. “They do, mhm. That’s right. But they’re loud n’ big. And, actually, when we hear them, from far away? When the noise seems to come in a bit late? That’s the sound echoing to us.”

 Caroline let out a noise of interest. “Really?” she dragged out the word, near stars dancing in her eyes.

 Jack nodded, stopping at a redlight. The sky was getting darker and the fireworks were getting brighter, like shining beacons, disappearing and being replaced by a different-colored clone. Like gas confetti. He wasn’t sure just what they were made of, but he wondered what fireworks looked like to someone who never saw them. Like some sign of the world ending, probably.

 “Yeah.”

 He looked up at the sky, biting his bottom lip, and drummed his fingers on the wheel. He could see a planet in the sky, behind a tree. Mars. It seemed even space was coming out to see the events of patriotism. He almost smiled at it.

 “That’s so cool,” Caroline chimed in, swinging her legs some. John-John let out a small noise of agreement but still stuck his face to the window. He’d definitely leave a print at that point. “it’s so cool, Papa, it’s so pretty.”

 “Some people don’t like fireworks, though.”

 “No?” Caroline furrowed her little brows, tilted her head. Jack kept driving as the redlight turned green.

 “No.” he repeated. “Sometimes, they’re too loud. Or too bright. Sometimes, both. And there’s things like earplugs to help them. Or headphones. Y’know, the things you have for your tablet? When you listen to music?”

 He was referencing her purple, cat-eared headphones. They were at least fifty dollars. But Caroline liked it, and Kennedy money could buy a thousand of those over. Even more than that.

 “Yeah… do we have earplugs?”

 “We do in the house, but I’d have to find them,” Jack confirmed. “And so if you’re ever seeing fireworks with someone, and they don’t like them, if you have earplugs, ask if they want them, okay?”

 “Okay, Papa!”

 That was his girl, always willing to help others. He supposed she got it from him and Jackie. He wondered what Jackie was doing, actually. He just knows she looked absolutely spectacular in her celebratory dress. And more than fifty thousand other people thought so, too, by the likes on her picture.

 John finally pulled away from the window and stuck the tip of his tongue out as he played with the toy, until Patrick extended a tiny hand to it, patting his brother’s forearm, looking at it. John was a little confused, but he got the motto once Patrick made a noise and started waving both arms for it.

 “Want it?” he put it in Patrick’s lap. He didn’t often give his toys to Patrick in fear of them getting slobbered on, but Patrick merely stared at it, clicked a few buttons, and giggled and smiled at it. He began clapping his hands together and making his own impersonation of firework noises.

 And at that, the little toddler smiled. He liked being a big brother, actually. He liked it a lot. Even in the coming years when he’d be a moody teen and Patrick would be his own tiny man, he’d still always love his siblings.

 Jack, however, opened the compartment between the two front seats. He grabbed the green can of bug spray, and shook it some to see how much was inside. …

 It was only about a sixth full. That wouldn’t be enough for all of them.

 Subtly, he hissed out, “Damnit,” under his breath, but Caroline’s a little too observant.

 “What’s ‘damnit’, Papa?”

 Jack’s eyes widened and he nearly hit the coming car if he didn’t swerve. “Uh—it’s… nothing, baby. It’s a really cool thing I’ll only explain when you’re sixteen, okay?”

 Caroline shrugged. “Okay!”

 Thank god she was able to be convinced. Jack wasn’t above bribing his kids with money. How much loose change did he have, four, five, hundred dollars? No, probably more. It didn’t matter, loose change was just loose change.

 “There’s probably gonna be other people at the park, by the way,” Jack pointed out, “so don’t stray too far, okay? Besides our—uh… friends, special surprise friends, there’s probably going to be other people watchin’ fireworks. So just stay close.”

 John-John nodded, more like rapidly bobbing his head. Patrick was lightly tapping the buttons still. “Okay, Papa!”

 “Can we have a hint on the surprise?” Caroline asked, and Jack smirked.

 “No. It’s a surprise for a reason, Buttons.”

 “But what if it’s a surprise we gotta know!”

 “Then I wouldn’t have made it a surprise.”

 Caroline pouted, but looked out the window at the fireworks painting the sky all shades of the rainbow. “Is it a fun surprise, Papa? Do we know the surprise?”

 “Yes, we do,” Jack chuckled, “and I promise, it’s a fun surprise. You’ll like it. John, you’ll like it too, don’t even worry.” He added, in the mirror he could see John-John fidgeting with his fingers instead as a substitute.

 The drive wasn’t much longer. A turn to the left, and soon the foundation of the park stood in front of his eyesight. He turned his head to the parking lot; perfect. It was empty. He supposed that even if there were a lot of people, he’d just keep his kids close. He should invest in those kid leashes. John-John would probably need one.

 Jack slowly turned the shiny car into a parking spot, near the exit/entrance of the park. The car lights turned on, and everything was a hue of warm yellow. His lights turned on when he pulled the key out of the car, and soon the rumbling of the car died down and it stilled like a beast going to sleep.

 He turned his head, smiling softly at the three kids. “You three ready?”

 He got two excited nods in return and Patrick just eyed him.

 Jack got out of the car and heard a faint click of the kids taking their seatbelts off, and he unlocked the car. But because the kids were a little too young to properly open their doors, he had to open them himself, a quick reach around to each sides of the vehicle.

 Caroline popped out at the same time John did and she had Patrick in her arms, holding the baby protectively. Even young, she understood the foundations of what it meant to be an older sibling. Jack reached back into the car to grab bug spray, and with that and a lock of the car, they were good.

 “Now,” he showed them the can, John toddling over to be by his sister. They stared up curiously. A curved top, green metal, a label and a little trigger at the top of it.

 “This is the mosquito spray. It’s gonna protect you even if it doesn’t smell that good. Cover your eyes, okay? Use a hand to cover Pat’s eyes.”

 John-John reached a hand out to cover his baby brother’s eyes, and squeezed his eyes shut, using his free hand. Caroline just shut her own tightly. Jack hit the trigger on the can and chemical-based bug repellent shot gently at the children. He circled them slowly to make sure he got everything. It was like spray painting, and the thought made him smile to himself. He’d just wait for Abraham to get here.

 With the kids covered, he sprayed himself. Aching pains and bug bites? No thank you. “Good job, kiddos,” he praised, “you can uncover your eyes now.”

 The kids grinned, and Caroline opened her eyes. She looked down, noting the scent of the spray. John-John took his hands from Patrick and his own face. When he noted the smell as well, he made a face. “It smells weird, Papa.”

 Jack laughed, putting the can in a pocket instead of back in the car. Never know when you may need it again.

 “Yeah, sorry about that one, John.” He leaned down to ruffle his son’s hair and got a stuck-out tongue, but paired with a grin, in retaliation.

 He just smiled down at the boy and extended his hands to grab Patrick from Caroline. “Thank you, Buttons. I’ll hold him so you two can run around and look at the fireworks.”

 Speaking of them—there were a bunch visible behind him and in the sky, trees spread enough for a wide clearing. There was a small roofed sitting area to the far right, a small pond, and a swing set. It was a quaint little park. Blue and green exploded in the sky like makeshift confetti. Caroline made a noise of awe, and Jack stepped out of the way so they could see it.

 The two kids joined hands and walked forward a bit, looking at the sky, positively starstruck. Against the setting of dark grey, it was illuminated with sharp colors and the noise of a roar. Green, orange. Red, yellow, purple. All kinds of colors and combinations.

 Jack smiled as he looked up as well. Patrick seemed to like it, thankfully. Maybe it ran in the family. An amusing thought. He thought of checking his phone for any messages, but it’d be okay to have a moment with his family. Jackie was probably snapping photos and taking videos of the fireworks, so he knew he’d be getting those, too.

 He also briefly wondered when Abraham would arrive.

-

 Remembering his boyfriend made him snap out of the memory. Right. He’d have to properly ask Abraham if they were still on for spending Thanksgiving together. He yawned, grabbed his phone and double-tapped the screen. It lit up with a soft glow.

 No notifications besides… oh. Well, besides one from Bobby and one from Jackie. Bobby’s was a gif—a little bit tacky, but sparkly, with an animated turkey, and in bold lettering, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! The turkey was rocking back and forth with a stuck-out tongue and a pilgrim hat on top. He smiled at it; leave it to Bobby to be sweet but funny.

 He checked Jackie’s; three turkey plushes with hats attached. Think the kids would like these?

 Jack didn’t hesitate to simply type back ‘Totally’ and a heart emoji reaction to the photo. Leave it to her to know her kids. She was a damn good mother, and he’d never stop telling her that. Maybe it was time to give a bunch of thankful’s, for a reason beyond being deep in his feelings.

 He stretched as he got up. Okay, take meds, see his amazing children, text Abraham. Get food. One thing about having rowdy children and a job—which he was loving, still, seeing adorable animals was totally worth it—meant he was sometimes behind on things, not often of course. He was still a Kennedy, and Kennedy’s got things done.

 Jack went to the bathroom and turned the sink on, unscrewing the cap to his medication and downing the pills required, washing it down with sink water and quickly grabbed his brush, toothpaste, and mouthwash.

 Ten minutes later, he was leaving the bathroom and rounding the bedroom to grab a hoodie from the closet. It was cold. Very cold. A bit of digging led him to a soft, thick hoodie, with no strings but deep pockets and a hood. Smiling at it in approval, Jack slipped it on and sighed in relief at the warmth, and the fact it soothed his back some. And battled the coldness of the back brace.

 He went downstairs, and—oh. Right. Since there was no school, the kids were still asleep. Well, at least he had some time to himself. He pulled his phone from his shorts, checking the time. Almost ten-am. Not bad. And he knew Abraham was up, the man was usually available anywhere before eleven at night and anywhere after eight-am. At least he slept a lot. Jack… slept as much as he could, but when there were so many space facts online, it was hard, okay?

 Jack walked across the cold floor to the fridge, and opened it, feeling the gentle coldness hit him. His eyes scanned the fridge. He’d need to get more yogurt; or, namely, Go-Gurt. If it wasn’t there by the time John had to go to school, he’d be quite upset, and fruit snacks only held him over for so long.

 But the man grabbed a bag of sliced ham instead and pulled it out with a slam of the fridge door. He unzipped it, and grabbed a plate, put a few pieces on it and put it back. Sitting at the counter, he pulled the plate over. A perfect morning snack. And if he really tried to reason with himself and his appetite, breakfast.

 Sitting there, eating sliced ham, he turned his phone back on and let it slide onto the counter with a dull thud. He opened his messages, and clicked on Abraham’s contact.

 Jack

Hey, morning. <3 I was wondering if it’s still on for Thanksgiving together?

He put the phone down, leaving the chat open as he ate the ham. Cold and fresh. He’d probably need more for the actual dinner tonight. But, thankfully, he could probably charm at minimum five old ladies into giving him the store goods instead of keeping it for themselves. Good looks and good charm, might as well use it.

 No more than three minutes later, he got a reply.

Soulheart

Of course! As long as youre willing still. Gotta go to the store. Morning <3 :)

He smiled at that, especially the heart and smile emoticon. He loved interacting with his boyfriend. Especially mornings, where if it was early enough they could simply converse without being busy with kids. Could just send things back and forth and… and enjoy each other’s virtual company.

 Jack really liked being in love sometimes.

 He enjoyed his snack, got up, washed his hands and sighed, looking outside. He ran a cold hand through his hair. The kids were going to be up soon, however. He looked at the time on the oven; yep. In probably ten minutes. Well, he had time to himself at least a little. They’d enjoy the store. As long as John-John didn’t run around like a headless chicken and Patrick didn’t cry, he could enjoy a little outing with his family.

 And if the kids asked for toys or sweets, well, he wouldn’t deny them. He never did in the first place, but on Thanksgiving of all days? That’d be cruel. Jack reasoned that to himself. Or he was just an indulgent father. Or he just loved his kids.

 Whatever.

 Fifteen minutes later came the descension of tiny feet down the stairs, and giggling; the mere sound of his kids enjoying themselves brought a smile to Jack’s face. He loved his kids, so much. He turned to face the stairs. John-John wore a big brown sweater with a pilgrim hat stitched onto it, and Caroline had on a unicorn t-shirt and pajama pants. Patrick was still likely sleeping. Smiles stretched their young, adorable faces.

 “Good morning, you two,” Jack said softly, and both kids looked up. Caroline grinned and basically flung herself at her father. John-John followed in her footsteps—literally—and also flung himself at his father. Jack laughed and put his hands on both of their heads, mussing their hair up slightly.

 “’Appy ‘anksgiving, Papa!” John cheered, getting on his tippy-toes to properly hug his father’s hips. Caroline did the same, except with his waist. This was what family was all about. Love, warmth, closeness. Feeling safe and trust.

 “Happy Thanksgiving to you too, John,” Jack replied, ruffling their hair on purpose now. Caroline tried to nudge away from it, but he just intensified it and she giggled, burying her face into his hoodie. John-John accepted it. “We’re gonna go to the store today. You kids wanna get dressed and get your brother dressed as I make sandwiches?”

 Two happy, excited, slightly-sleepy cheers echoed from the tiny kids and he couldn’t fight the way his smile grew. “Right, then go back upstairs.” He stiffly bent down to at least give them both a kiss on the crown of their heads, and once he released them (as they did him), they were off like rockets.

 With another moment to himself, Jack sighed and put his hands on his hips. Right, getting shoes on. He looked to the front door—there lied comfortable brown loafers. One of many. Comfortable, probably expensive.

 He stepped over to the front door and got down on one knee to grab the loafers, deciding to just slide them on while he was on his knee. Bending his back was still an issue sometimes, no matter how many medications or exercises he put himself through. Everywhere he looked, there were expensive touches. Some used with family money, some his own from his job. Bonuses weren’t hard when you could charm the socks (and, if needed, pants) off of your boss who had bad name ideas for the dogs.

 Caroline and John came running down the stairs, now in proper clothing. John-John still had his sweater on, but black pants and slip-on converse. Jack would need to teach him how to tie his laces properly soon. Caroline just got on a warm, red long-sleeve, a cute matching skirt, socks, and mini flats. He wasn’t going to put his child through the pain of heels while she was still so young, thank you very much.

 And Patrick, the tiny star of the show. A white shirt with a stitched-on, orange Saturn on the front. He looked fairly content with everything, even the mild jostling from being held in his sister’s arms, a toy in his stubby fingers and a general sleepiness in his eyes. The same eyes that always got Jack to give the boy anything he wanted. He deserved it, after all.

Giving his children the smile of parental approval, he grabbed his keys from the hanger beside the door. “Ready to go?” he said, and got two nods in return. Caroline’s hair was getting a bit longer than she’d expressed liking. He’d need to get it cut soon.

 Jack turned the keys in the door and unlocked it, pushing it open—a gust of cold air hit like an invisible wall and he shuddered. At least the kids didn’t seem to mind. They clamored out the door before he even did, toddling outside and to the car, Bitches-Love-Me-3000 ready for a drive. It’d already snowed once, and so no doubt it’d be getting another wash. Damnit, Jack thought fondly, his car was as pampered as his kids.

 He went to the car, pressing the button on his keys that made it light up, beep, and unlock. Caroline managed to open her door, while Jack helped John-John open his door.

 “Now, remember: we’re getting stuff for dinner, and no more, okay?” Jack told them, giving them both a look that made them pause and look back.

 Oh. He wasn’t being serious. How could he be, when he’d get them something at the drop of a hat?

 So they grinned instead and nodded.

 “Of course, Papa.” “Totally.”

 Jack huffed fondly and shut the backseat car door, rounding to the driver’s seat to open it and settle into the cushioned, leather seat. He sighed. It felt good on his back. One perk of having so much money meant getting properly cushioned, stitched, and padded seats. Both for his children’s comfort, and his own. He turned the car on, and it rumbled to life and the conscious world almost immediately.

 He shut his door, got his belt on, and leaned over to make sure Caroline, John-John, and Patrick all had their belts on. Patrick in the middle, and a booster seat, of course.

 “Ready?”

 Two affirmative noises, two yes’, and Jack turned back to begin driving and pulling out of the driveway. And just for safe measures, he turned the heating on. The warm expulsion of air into the otherwise frigid car made them all collectively exhale in relief. When it was properly Winter instead and there was snow almost every day, the heating inside would probably also stay on. It almost broke last time, and that wasn’t fun with even younger kids in his care.

 The drive was calming, at least. The passing by of trees, houses, some people walking their dogs or enjoying a personal solo walk. Joggers, cyclers, other cars. All familiar scenery. It was truly almost the end of the year. It was almost the new year, which was… almost terrifying. Hadn’t this year just begun? No. It was November. Just two more days and it’d be December; relatively soon would be January of another year. Closer to another decade. And that, another century.

 Maybe it was overthinking, but the idea of his kids growing up and one day leaving the so-called nest was already upsetting. He had over a decade in total until then, more than, but it still made Jack’s chest turn and twist like a rubber band being pulled taunt. He was a protective, nurturing father, he’d admit it. Maybe too much. But he wanted his children to have what he didn’t. He wanted them to feel safe, dependent on him, trust him to take care of and love them. There was taking care of someone, and then there was loving them. He wanted to give them both, because they deserved both.

 Sometimes, sometimes, his mind wondered if he really was giving and doing enough. But when he’d see their bright, genuine smiles, and hear their laughter, he knew he was. He was doing enough. He was enough for them.

 Jack listened to their babblings to each other and Patrick’s occasional input of little words, many noises and small coos from his gummy mouth. Soon he’d be teaching the boy how to say ‘Papa’. And Mama, of course. He’d record it for Jackie. That would be memorable, as were all of his kids first words.

 The idea of getting portraits painted of them crossed his mind. Only if they wanted, of course. But if they did…

 Well, nothing was ever too expensive for them.

 The store’s large, looming figure finally reached his eyes, and the two young children cheered. They knew that it meant getting candy and good food. The memories they have of past Thanksgivings’ were always of good food, lots of candles, laughter and happiness. Though, the sometimes unapproving stares from their grandparents when they were a bit too loud were less than encouraging.

 They were never present for the hushed arguing of course. Jack wouldn’t let them hear that part of Thanksgiving. What they didn’t know yet was that they wouldn’t be eating with their father’s family. But Jack had a feeling that when they found out, they wouldn’t be exactly upset.

 When he finally found a good spot to park, Jack turned the car into park instead, pulling his keys out and letting the rumble die down to a mere purr. And then nothing. He clicked his seatbelt off, watching his kids already do the same.

 “Right. Remember what I’ve said?”

 Caroline recited, “Stay close, no running around, and scream if someone tries taking us.”

 He smiled and patted her on the head affectionately. “Correct, Buttons.”

 He got out of the car, helping John out and unbuckling Patrick himself, lifting his tiny son into his arms and giving the baby a small, soft kiss on the head. Patrick looked up at him with wondering eyes, blinking innocently. So pure and sweet. It made Jack smile. This, was what he was defending.

 He managed to snag a cart and put Patrick in the part for babies, using the buckle—but positioning Patrick so he wasn’t close to the edge. He used one free hand to hold John-John’s hand, and kept his eyes on Caroline. Though his girl was well-behaved (mostly), he still knew how kids were. He was one, once upon a time, after all.

 Briefly, the thought of how Abraham was getting on appeared into his brain. Hm. He could call, probably. Maybe as he got the food ready. Wait, if there—oh, there was going to be a lot of food if they both planned on making the same foods.

 No matter. It was Thanksgiving, was it not?

 The store’s cold air conditioning was fairly chilling, but the pace he kept at least stopped it from completely consuming him. John-John stayed by his side despite ooo’ing and aw’ing at some candy near the front, next to flowers and trinkets. And if he let the boy tentatively drop some items inside, he didn’t comment on it. God knows he’s spent more money than he should at the store, solely for whatever he lets the boy put inside. Caroline stayed pretty content with what they did grab, but did grab sweets, and a stuffed rabbit that had a carrot in its paws. A leftover from Easter, if the markdown price told him anything.

 Patrick just stared at the moving colors and displays, clapping his hands when he saw certain things. Jack took that as a sign to grab it. He knew baby language, what else could he say?

 Right—mashed potatoes, turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pie (apple and pumpkin), and Cool Whip. He could do this. The turkey was the easiest, since it was practically everywhere. He grabbed the first, best looking one he could find (well, one that didn’t give him a bad feeling) and continued on.

 Mashed potatoes. There were only two things of it left, so he snagged one. Knowing his boyfriend, there’d be enough already even if he did miss one or two items. The cart was already filed with five items, and he’d just grabbed two of the things he needed. The sight was amusing, especially John-John’s innocent little stare.

 Cranberry sauce, pie, and stuffing later, he found himself staring at… an empty shelf. No Cool Whip in sight. Jack sighed, drumming his fingers on the cool metal of the cart. Well, that was an issue. He’d have to hope Abraham had some. But if not, and in case, he steered his little group to where the whipped cream was and grabbed a can. Or two. Or three. Listen, it was a good snack late at night.

 One trip to the candy section and freezer later, it came to a damn near total of eighty dollars. But then again, for an overpriced stuffed rabbit and turkey, it was good enough.

 It was somehow even colder by the time they left the store—it was noon. So still early enough to prepare an entire bird and more food. Google and Youtube would be doing the bulk of the work. Maybe it was time to take more cooking lessons from Jackie, maybe.

 He let the kids get into the car as he put the groceries away, rolling his sleeves up, looking like a father at work combating the groceries that threatened to fall out of the back. Jack may’ve been a rich kid (insanely rich), but he knew basic skills. If that meant playing Tetris with grocery bags, then so be it, damnit.

 When Jack finally got to get into his car and sit, he sighed, staring at the ceiling of the vehicle.

 This was totally gonna be worth it.

 He hoped.

[Timeskip]

Well. So far he had everything but the turkey done, his hoodie had to be taken off as it was getting hot in the kitchen, and the kids were watching Charlie Brown in the living room. He could feel sweat dot his forehead. The potatoes were mostly right, the stuffing fine, and the sauce was sitting in the fridge. He and Abraham shared a brief text conversation half an hour ago—the taller man would be arriving in… Jack looked at the clock—a few minutes.

 Just a few more minutes and he’d see his gorgeous, perfect, amazing, sexy boyfriend. Abraham. His kid’s principal. Also his boyfriend, again.

 Jack put his hands on his hips and looked into the living room. Animation flew by on the television screen, classic and old. It calmed his own nerves. Caroline was entirely focused on it and John-John was playing with Patrick at the same time, who was fully entranced with playing with his big brother. At least his kids got along like magnets. That was a win.

 A swipe at his forehead, and he looked at the clock again. He was almost impatient, almost. He just wanted to see the man. That was all he wanted.

 Jack went to the front door, and momentarily unlocked and opened it to feel the cold air outside. Chilly, unforgivingly strong. Even though it would be too much to someone who hadn’t been in a kitchen for hours, it was just right for him. Soothed his skin and kept his hair from continuing to frizz.

 If his hair was frizzy, he’d never show his face to society again.

 He must’ve spent at least a minute cooling down and relaxing, because soon a familiar car pulled up, the lights on to battle the slowly-darkening sky and its surroundings. Oh. Oh, it was Abraham. Oh, thank god. He’d have to house four more children, a total of seven, but it’d be worth it. Besides, he liked the four boys. Even if Robert could be moody sometimes. That was what a teenager was, after all.

 The sight of Abraham almost made his face warm. It was stupid and he knew it, but his boyfriend was handsome. Tall, lean, but strong. Certainly. In a warm brown button-down, with a black tie, black slacks and polished shoes. So he was getting fancy. Jack somehow felt like the underdressed one for a change. He was so busy making food (was he a househusband now?) that he forgot to change into something more… hot, maybe?

 But then again, he was Jack Kennedy, so.

 Robert got out after his father, holding foil-topped bowls in one hand and using the other to hold his brother Willie. Tad was helped by Eddie. Abraham shut his door and when he turned his head, he spotted Jack finally, and his eyes dramatically softened from the already warm tones they held. He smiled nervously, and when Robert turned his head he saw both Mr. Kennedy and his father looking like a lovestruck idiot.

 He smirked at that and then got back to helping his siblings. Abraham swallowed, and whispered to him something Jack couldn’t quite figure out, and the lanky man rolled his sleeves up and approached the house. He was so damn pretty in the warm porch lighting, Jack thought. He smiled at his own mind and what it said. He’d love to kiss the man right on the cheeks.

 “Hey.”

 “Hi,” Abraham replied, a bit breathless. Jack somehow always looked angelic, and right now with the warm glow of a light above, he looked like a saint. A personal blessing, a personal heaven all for him. He almost felt undeserving of such a thing. But when Jack smiled, it was like his chest was tight and he couldn’t breathe.

 “I’m glad you could make it. Happy Thanksgiving,” Jack said, stepping forward to embrace Abraham who returned it gratefully, hugging Jack gently. Aware of the other’s back. Always aware. That was sweet enough that Jack positively melted into it with a sigh. Abraham smelled like… coconut, coffee, and home.

 Jack himself smelled like sweat, mint, and expensive cologne. Perfect. Home.

 “I’m almost done with the turkey by now, everything else is made,” Jack informed when he pulled away reluctantly. Abraham’s face shifted a bit and then he chuckled, a little nervously but still smiling, still flushed just by hugging Jack.

 “To be honest, we uh… brought a lot of food ourselves. And Turkey.”

 Oh?

 He knew the foiled bowls, but—oh, and there it was, a turkey. In a clear container. Fresh as hell and delicious looking even far away. Robert balanced it and handed the bowls to Eddie, who became in charge of the two younger boys. Willie was excitedly talking about seeing John-John, which was endearing.

 Jack huffed in amusement and shrugged, “Well, the more the merrier, I suppose. C’mon, I’ll let you in.”

 He turned to open the door, calling inside, “Guess who’s here?”

 The two kids inside turned their heads to their father, confused looks on both young, adorable faces, furrowed brows and pursed lips. Until John-John heard Willie’s excited voice calling out his name and suddenly he looked like a boy on Christmas morning. Caroline’s brows shot up. Patrick seemed to just like the happy energy around.

 Abraham turned and hastily moved back to his car to both lock it and help his eldest with the food, while Willie ran ahead.

 The boy greeted Jack briefly before running into the house, and when he saw John on the couch he grinned wider than he should’ve been able to, and the two boys ran to each other and collided in a hug with squeals of joy.

 Abraham came in second with the turkey in hand, giving a tiny wave to Caroline who smiled and got off the couch.

 “Hi Mr. Lincoln!”

 She seemed excited, which was a relief in its own right. Jack wanted his kids to enjoy this, to have fun. Charlie Brown became mere background noise as more kids filed in and filled his home. From teen to toddler, three became four, five, six and then a final head of seven.

 Now, what to do with so much food.

 The turkey Jack was making was instead helped with by Abraham, who helped finish up the process with Jack, and the two stayed busy in the kitchen as the kids conversed—Robert seemed fine doing small tasks in the kitchen and paying attention to the television than speaking to kids far younger than him. If Jack saw the boy sneak a bit of whip cream—and Cool Whip, Abraham brought that thankfully—into his mouth, he didn’t snitch.

 A grueling amount of time later, it was finally prepared to go onto the dinner table. Two turkeys in the middle, two things of potatoes. Two cranberry sauces and jam, four goddamn pies, and non-alcoholic apple cider. Overall a giant feast. Certainly Thanksgiving worthy. Jack put some fall-scented candles around, all high up so the children didn’t snatch it and cause a fire.

 Charlie Brown still in the background, lights dimmed, laughter around the table, the two adults sat on opposite ends of the table. And shared a look.

 This was what family was. What a unified group was. Home. This was warm and safe. The kids were open and socializing to one another, laughing, talking, sharing interests. Even Robert was engaging. That seemed to make Abraham light up like the lights above their heads.

 When it came time to say what they were thankful for, the kids all did short, but sweet dedications to things, people. Jack knew Jackie would come over tomorrow to give Caroline, John, and Patrick their plushies. They could enjoy a feast together, too. She was still one of the most important women in his life after all.

 Abraham shared, sweet, warm, soft voice reaching their ears, “… Each and every one of you. My boys, for being the light of my life. And…” he paused, looking at Jack as if he hung the stars in the sky he loved so much, “and you, Jack, I thank specifically for… everything.”

 If Jack could kiss the man senseless, he would.

 But, the flush on his face said enough to the children and they knew their fathers were in love, if nothing else showed it. Even the youngest ones had a look on their faces.

 Jack smiled softly. “… Thank you, Abraham. I’m thankful for all of you, as well, especially you three,” he looked at his kids—Caroline and John-John beamed quietly. “And you too, Abraham.” His eyes met the other man’s again. “Everything. For even wanting to know me.”

 Abraham huffed and chuckled, but he was endeared. And red. Significantly red. “Everyone does.”

 “Well, that one is true.”

 A laugh danced around the table.

 This was home. This was family. This was how it was meant to be.

Chapter Text

 It was going good.

It, being Jack and Abraham’s relationship.

 The two seemed an unlikely pair so far, but they worked. They matched. Didn’t always agree, but they matched. Jack could have anyone, something he hasn’t stopped hearing (which he suspects is for reasons that aren’t favorable to Abraham), but why? Why go with anyone if it isn’t Abraham? To Jack, Abraham is everything.

Shouldn’t that be enough?

He was fairly certain Ted must’ve told their mother and father that Jack had a boyfriend, because suddenly, he got a call from his mother about it—about this ‘mysterious Mr. Lincoln’ that had her son whipped. Kennedys were the ones attracting whipped people, it was meant to be that way, and nothing else. But if Rose Kennedy knew just how special Abraham was, maybe she’d get it.

 Didn’t mean he wanted to introduce Abraham to her. Or his father.

 Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. was a man who only tolerated the best. Doing one’s best and nothing less. Joe understood this before Jack ever did, as the eldest son. And if you didn’t do your best and you led a life he didn’t consider serious and fulfilling, then you would be cast aside, in favor of those he supported. It was that simple.

 But the Kennedys were rich despite their shortcomings. This was why Joseph Kennedy’s… certain political views weren’t completely damning, because with enough money and power thrown around, anything could be fixed or covered up. That was a cardinal rule of Kennedy fuck ups; you had money, if you didn’t then your sibling did, if they didn’t your parents did. Kennedy name plus money equaled scandals plus cover up. Easy, simple math.

 Jack knew that his family rubbed shoulders and had drinks with the highest of the elite. Whether it be statesmen, foreign politicians, underground associates… Kennedys had it all.

 Which was why Jack worried. That his large family would overwhelm Abraham, that the extravagance, the financial indulgencies, the nonexistent worry about putting food on their many tables across their many homes. Maybe it was best if he introduced his siblings two or so at a time, and then the real big money shot: his parents. But that wasn’t possible; simply because his parents would rather a traditional dinner meeting.

 Nevermind that Abraham had already met Bobby and Teddy. Two of nine (three if you count Jack) Kennedy children out of the way.

 But that wasn’t at the Kennedy compound. Where Jack was certain his parents wished to meet his boyfriend. And after he and Jackie’s divorce, they seemed to still wish for that perfect, heterosexual marriage to come back. For their Jack to realize Jackie was the example of a perfect wife and to reunite their family once more, to stop the split-homes for the children.

 But that was a false fantasy.

 Because Jack was devoted to Abraham, in a way that felt deeper than exchanged words and kisses, and touches that left searing heat on his skin even after the fingers or mouth were long gone. It was like the forbidden fruit. Pomegranates in his mouth, except there was no binding to another person—there was simply flavor and an eagerness for more.

 Still. The point was: Jack’s parents wanted to meet Abraham.

 That was why he called said man right before dinner one night, John-John and Caroline playing in the living room, on the floor, with Patrick sitting beside them playing with his blocks. The children were growing so fast it felt like a haze, something he could hardly even begin to realize was actually true and real. Jack would be sending them off to college before he knew it.

 Oh, his poor parental heart.

 He shifted his phone in one hand, the other stirring a pot of spaghetti. It was… well, considerably more upbeat than the usual. Jack had to learn spaghetti-making the hard way.

 “Hello?”

 Abraham’s voice made Jack’s shoulders relax a little bit, as if the tones alone were soothing enough as to be a balm on his constantly aching joints and bones.

 “Hey, Abraham.”

 Abraham’s voice brightened, then, softened, “Jack! Hey… what’s got you calling me? Isn’t it dinner time for you and the children?”

 Jack smiled a little, lips twitching at the corners, fighting to form an expression of pure love. Curse his never-ending adoration for the other man.

“Yeah, it is,” replied Jack, pausing his stirring.

 “But I do need to inform you of something. We’ve been together… long enough, I think, and it’s sort of inevitable, but… my parents… want to meet you.”

 There was a silent, but noticeable pause, and Abraham seemed to have choked on something. Probably a drink. Or his own spit. “What?” Abraham choked out, a slight shuffle across the speaker, “as in—as in Joseph and Rosemary Kennedy?”

 Ah. So he did know his stuff. At least, a little bit, it was hard not to when the Kennedys were, well. The Kennedys.

 “Bingo.” Jack returned to stirring, mostly because he needed to do something with his hand as he talked to his boyfriend.

 “Don’t worry, they won’t have you immediately shot on sight as soon as you come to the door, or even approach the property. They just want to meet you. They wanna know who I’m dating, since this has lasted longer than a week.”

 “… Do they know anything about me?”

 Jack hummed. He wasn’t sure, his mother hadn’t clarified anything. Probably on purpose. “I don’t know. But if they do, then it can’t be that bad. I have a feeling they’ve ran a background check on you.”

 “Oh god—”

 “But,” Jack cut him off gently, “that doesn’t mean they already hate you. I don’t think there’s anything incriminating. Trust me. And if there is… well, it doesn’t matter much to the Kennedys,” it was a playful thing to say, but it did hold some form of truth. Kennedys weren’t the most law-abiding family. Past scandals would prove that to be very, very true (and, future, most likely).

 Abraham swallowed, and he resumed with a sigh, “so… when do they wanna meet me? Or did they not say a day? A time? I mean—”

 “Calm down, Abraham,” Jack soothed. He was confident the other man was probably losing it a little bit, but that was fair. To be expected, anyway. It wasn’t common to be asked to meet American royalty. As close to royalty as one can get in the United States, anyway.

 “They wanna meet next week. Hyannis Port, Massachusetts.”

 “Massa—that’s… I don’t think I can afford a random flight to Ma-“

 Jack chuckled, “I can pay for that. Don’t worry about it. You think you wanna take the kids?”

 “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to leave them alone while so far away. So… yeah, I think so. They can behave. … I think.”

 “Well, there’s a lot of extra rooms, so you won’t need to worry about them finding a place to sleep.”

 Abraham gave a sigh, “good. I mean, that’s—I’d hope so. What’s the address? I should probably know that now than later.”

 …

 Jack had to pause stirring and open his notes app on his phone to see the three addresses. Because the compound? Wasn’t one address. Or two.

 It was three.

 “I’ll text you them.”

 “Okay—wait, them?”

 “…”

 Jack opened up their messages and sent all three addresses, and the silence across the phone was somehow the loudest thing in the entire phone call. There was a moment where Jack swore the call disconnected, but then—

 “Three addresses?”

 “… It’s, uh. A compound. A compound of houses.”

 “… I can tell. So… … so which one do we go to?”

 “… my parents can pick that one.”

 Jack wasn’t sure if this was a great thing to reveal right now, that his family was more than rich, that they were mega rich, more than they needed to be. That Abraham was basically the exact opposite of them. That they could buy his house if they wanted (if they tried, Jack would be very pissed, so it was best if they didn’t do that).

 But… maybe Abraham would adjust to that? To trips to other countries and extravagant events and outfits costing someone’s entire student loan debt?

 … It was very wishful thinking and Jack knew that.

 “Well, that’s—more addresses than I thought, but, uh… I’ll ask the kids what they think, and we can go from there. Should I dress up? Bring a gift?”

 Jack hummed, “I mean, it’d be appreciated. But if you try too hard you might just look desperate. But again, it’d be appreciated.”

 “Well—what do your parents like?”

 A pause.

 “… Money.”

 That was the best answer Jack could give, because what his parents liked were things Abraham would probably need to put himself in debt to afford, and maybe it was best if he made handmade items. Wooden things. That had an appeal to it, even to rich people.

 Abraham, thankfully, found that funny—whether that meant he took that seriously or not, Jack couldn’t be too sure. He laughed, even. “Ah… well, I can’t give them an envelope of hundreds,” and he didn’t quite know that was actually a pretty fair gift they’d accept, “but I can give them something. Whatever I can manage. Should I be worried of anything?”

 “There’s… well. You need to meet six siblings, and my parents. So that’s eight people you need to meet, plus my siblings’ spouses if they come, too.”

 And that finally gave another pause. Abraham had his work cut out for him, that was for sure. The Kennedys weren’t known for being a small group—they were a clan, and one that would just keep growing. But it was a good thing Ted was the last one. Of course, that meant he got ‘baby of the family’ privileges, but, still.

 “So I have to shake hands with, what, ten or so people? I’m starting to rethink this one, Jack…” it was playful. That was good. Meant Abraham wasn’t too overwhelmed.

 Jack chuckled. But quickly put some of his attention on the food, again, as to not burn it. It looked good enough. He reached down to lower the heat, and then went back to stirring. “Don’t worry. Hey, at least you’re not the first one to do this. And they seem to like you so far. They might be excited to meet you. And if it helps, Jackie had to go through this as my to-be-wife, and not just my girlfriend.”

 “True. But I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?”

 “That you are. And I’m very glad about that. The kids will have fun, too—Nantucket Sound will be great to play in, the yard’s are big, there’s a lot of room to run around, lot of rooms to check out. Not to mention the animals. They’ll have a great time. And if we can, we can even try and show them horse riding.”

 “Oh—that does sound like fun,” Jack could hear the small smile Abraham was sporting. “I think Ulysses has tried that before. But since they’re older now, they might get more enjoyment out of it.”

 “And if they get hurt, I promise I’ll pay for any expenses.”

 “Oh, Jack, you don’t n—”

 “I did it before, and I’ll do it again. You won’t make me budge,” Jack said, and his mind flashed back, before, to the—to when—

 No, no. That was all said and done. That was done and everything was fine now. It happened, and it was over, and Abraham’s kids were okay and alive. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

 “But we should probably wrap this call up since dinner is done, and John-John will give me those impossibly adorable puppy eyes if he doesn’t get food soon.”

 “You’re right,” agreed Abraham. “I’ll tell the kids. Love you, Jack.”

 His heart still skipped a beat sometimes, at the warmth. The softness. Gentle, and quiet, intimate, like it was meant only for Jack’s ears, a secret—but it wasn’t. It was simply too special to let everyone know, lest it be spoiled. But even then, even if it was, Jack knew he wouldn’t let it go.

 He and Jackie might’ve been done, and good, amazing friends, but such amicability wasn’t always obtained.

  “Love you too, Abraham.”

 The call disconnected after a moment, like they both waited for the other to hang up. Jack put his phone in his pocket, and got about taking the spaghetti from the pot and serving it. Over his shoulder, he called back, “Kids—got a question.”

 He got two affirmative, focused hums back, along with the sound of clicking—a toy in John-John’s hands, likely. So he knew to continue speaking.

 “How do you feel about going to Hyannis Port and seeing all your uncles and aunties and grandpa and grandma?”

 Immediately, there were cheers. Family was important even to the littlest Kennedys. And, after all, that meant they had friends, friends to play with. And any pets they missed. Plus, they got the incredible view of the water. What child wouldn’t be happy to see that?

 And, Jack thought, he was confident they just enjoyed Massachusetts. Which was fair. Hyannis Port was a home within a home.

 “Do we get to see Uncle Bobby?” Caroline asked, to which Jack grinned and nodded, turning his head enough to look over to his children. Patrick seemed happy, his baby brain acknowledging the titles of family, and therefore piecing it together. His boy was so smart. Jackie was right in spoiling the little guy (Jack wasn’t much better).

 “Of course. He’ll be there, Buttons, don’t worry. And Uncle Teddy and Joe, and Aunt Jean, and Ethel, and Kick, and—”

 “Will there be pie and muffins?” John-John asked, really asking the big questions. At least he had priorities.

 “Yep. Blueberry.”

 That satisfied the little tyke, as he kicked his legs a little and kept a small smile on his face, even as he went back to twisting the toy in his hand. Caroline tilted her head side to side repeatedly, like it was swinging around, and then propped it on her knuckles, elbows on the counter.

 “Why’re we goin’, Papa?”

 Jack hummed. He knew that would be asked. His kids weren’t blind when they accepted something, even for their age. “Well, Princess, it’s because Abraham is going to meet all your Aunts and Uncles, and your grandparents. And, John-John, you get to see Willie, if that helps encourage you. You can show him all your favorite things at Hyannis Port.”

 That earned him a cheer.

 Maybe this was a good idea?

-

 Abraham was, once more, freaking out. This was not new for him. But for someone who kept his cool so often, this was big. This was huge, even. He would be meeting Jack’s parents—and, if they were typical, normal parents, this wouldn’t be so bad.

 But what’s bad is they’re incredibly rich, incredibly influential, and their approval means everything. Jack probably wouldn’t just elope. Right?

 … He hoped Jack would elope if needed.

 Point was, he was freaking out. He kept it cool (mostly) during the phone call, and for that he was very glad, but now as the kids ate at the dinner table and he had himself locked in the bathroom with his phone, he wasn’t as cool. He was not as cool as a cucumber, as Ulysses would say.

 He took his phone from the place he’d set it, on the counter, and pulled up the groupchat he’d joined so long ago. He was really wondering why he never left it, since often it was just Jefferson arguing to the wind.

Logman: I need your help again

Washingdishes: whats wrong? Wait who changed my name

ThomasTheTrain: washingmachine felt boring!! Anyway whats wrong??

Logman: im going to see Jack’s parents and I am terrified. And his siblings. He has six I haven’t met. He has EIGHT. I can do a lot but this is not something I can do!!

Washingdishes: that is insane…

 ThomasTheTrain: woah woah woah, as in like his parents are joseph and rose kennedy? Swear I saw them before. I don’t remember. Bald guy with glasses??

-

 Abraham did a double google search. And yes; Joseph Senior was, in fact, pretty much bald. Mostly.

-

 Logman: yes.

Illboxyou: Oh, the Kennedys? Ah. My father met them once! … he didn’t quite like them. I think he said they’d gain more liking from Nazis than him.

(authors note: is this historically possible?? No, theodore senior died before the 20^th century but were the Roosevelts also rich as fuck and would have met the Kennedys at least once if the timelines matched up since they were both rich and politically-involved families, ignoring the Oyster Bay Roosevelts were Republican and Kennedys were Democrats? Probably.)

Logman: oh god theodore that doesn’t help!! What do I do??? Jack said he’d cover the plane ticket to Massachusetts but I don’t know… I want to know his family better, but theyre rich people who don’t understand poor people! Except bobby. I think. What do I do if they ask about my house? Oh, yeah, I live in a simple two floor house and have ONE house and ONLY one house, yeah, im totally not a PRINCIPAL, please let me date your son?? What do I do?!

Washingmachine: youre overthinking it. If they do, explain it calmly. Maybe itll make you look humble? Actually humble. Not humble as in ‘I only own three ships, I really do limit myself’.

 Logman: youre right. youre right. I don’t know. This might be a mistake.

ThomasTheTrain: think about it. The kids (I assume theyre going????) will have fun. I googled the kennedys. They have big ass yards and even bigger homes. They’ll have fun and you can meet your probably-future-in-laws.

Illboxyou: i can get dirt on them if you want to blackmail them! I don’t support blackmail, but theyd probably do the same to you. I have. … some connections.

Logman: no, no, ill. Ill play it safe. We’re doing it in a week. I have a week to prepare. I can do this. Ive done worse. Ive had to control many groups of children. Albeit with Ulysses’ help. He might be of help, he did win over Julia’s family…

ThomasTheTrain: that is a wonder.

Washingdishes: Thomas don’t be mean.

Logman: … im gonna talk to him instead

-

 Abraham, still panicked but finding it in him to not be so frantic, opened up his contact with Grant instead. The other man had to have some advice. He married the love of his life and he was quite happy, didn’t he have some wisdom on this? He hoped Ulysses was still awake…

-

 Tophat: Ulysses, are you available?

Unconditional: for you, most times. What’s up?? :)

Tophat: I need to ask you how you won over Julia’s parents.

Unconditional: … im going to be honest, Abraham, I don’t think ive fully won them over.

Tophat: you have children together???

Unconditional: I know! … isn’t that crazy??

Tophat: well how did you manage to keep your engagement together?

Unconditional: hoping.

Tophat: … well, thank you for being honest.

 Unconditional: of course! Anything else you need?

 Tophat: you to do my paperwork for the next weekend.

 Unconditional: :(

-

Well, that was… not as much help as he had hoped, but. It was something. He could just try to calm down, maybe go over his words in his head, plan it all out. It’d go good. Maybe even, hopefully, great. He had to impress these people, and he had a feeling that was not easy. But if they saw Jack happy—with him, then, maybe that was it?

 He really, really hoped happiness was important to this family. So far, from what he found from a very quick Google search and a brief skim of a news article, happiness—true, genuine, pure happiness—was not common amongst the Kennedy family.

 As if they were cursed. But that wasn’t possible, obviously.

With a sigh, Abraham exited the bathroom, only to be greeted by the sight of his eldest son, Robert. The father flinched in surprise, brows raising. “Oh. I didn’t know you were right… out here.”

 He was glad he didn’t have any verbal conversations. Well, verbal and out loud.

 Robert gave him a small smirk. “I figured not. I could hear you typing. We all wondered why you were taking forever in here so I was sent to go check on you.” He leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms, as if he was entirely calm and collected, the opposite of his dad. “What’s wrong? You look paler than usual. Which is difficult.”

 A swallow.

 “Ah, just… …” well, he was going to tell them when he got downstairs, anyway. “… would you be willing to go to Massachusetts for the weekend and stay at a house that is one of three available?”

 “… what? Why?”

 “Jack’s parents want to meet me. And I already agreed to it, and I can’t really say no without looking like a coward.”

 Robert huffed softly, amused and yet surprised. Dating for his father wasn’t common, at all, and for it to be so serious? Meeting the parents? That was serious.

 “Well then I’d be okay with it. Kennedy, right? That’s their last name?”

 “Yes.”

 “I think I’ve heard of them. Alright. But if I see you and Mr. Kennedy making out—”

 “Robert—”

A laugh from Robert, who grinned mischievously and straightened back up again. “I’m kidding. Sort of. As long as it’s fun, I’m down.” He turned, and walked to the stairs, disappearing down them. Abraham sighed. As much as Robert was ‘kidding’, he really hoped that wouldn’t actually happen. He’d die of embarrassment if his kids, any of them, caught him kissing Jack.

 He followed in his son’s footsteps and went downstairs, spotting all of his children eating, Robert settling back into his chair. He swallowed and sat down in his vacant seat, and cleared his throat.

 “I have news for everyone.”

 All of the boys looked up. Robert, Eddie, Willie, even Tad. Robert had already been told, so he hid his amused look by taking a small sip of his water. Abraham envied his coolness. He straightened his spine, tall form still towering the others—but not intimidating, not really. He was their father, their very doting father. Too doting, but was that really a bad thing?

 “… How would you feel about spending the weekend in Massachusetts?”

 The boys’ face ranged. Tad didn’t quite understand—not fully. Willie’s eyes brightened, and he’d probably heard something about it from John-John, which made sense. Eddie seemed interested. He was old enough to understand, and he probably had some interest, since it meant new sights—they’d never been to Massachusetts yet. And Robert, considering he already knew, seemed to just take in his brothers’ faces.

 “Ma… Mass-ay-choo-set-s?” Willie slowly said. He seemed intrigued, large eyes blinking a few times, his food forgotten for one moment. Abraham almost smiled at the cuteness of it. Tad tilted his little head, and he blinked, too, grabbing his sippy cup and taking a sip of the juice within it.

 It was in times like these where Abraham really appreciated his sons. They were still the light of his life. The lantern amidst the heavy storm. The boat in the turbulent ocean. His sons were everything, and he loved all of them.

 “Yes, Willie. Massachusetts. You’ll get to run around and see pretty water and maybe even ride horses.”

 “Horses?” Eddie repeated, a small smile hitting the boy’s face. “Uncle Grant loves talkin’ to us about them!”

 “Yes, yes. I know,” Abraham said, and he did—he did. Ulysses was great with kids, and he took his role of Uncle very seriously. After all, uncles were meant to be fun, and he was going to be the fun uncle. Their dad could be, as he put it, ‘goth’. Ulysses was going to be the fun uncle who let the children ride around on his shoulders and cover his face with stickers and Sharpie his beard black (that last one, well, he didn’t agree to, but it happened anyway).

 “Is it gonna be fun?” Willie asked, and it was to be expected. Fun was the main center of a young child’s world besides stability, Abraham knew that. He couldn’t help the way he smiled, finally, something soft and warm only his children (and Jack) got to see.

 “Yes, I think so.”

 “Why are we going?” asked Eddie.

 “Because,” Abraham took a long sip of his water from his cup. This was really going to cement his relationship with Jack, to the kids. They probably knew it was serious by now, but this would really get it in their heads. “Mr. Kennedy invited us to do so. He wants me to meet his parents. And that means you can play with John-John, Willie. And Caroline and Patrick, too. And maybe even more kids.”

 Willie’s eyes lit up so brightly they competed with Christmas lights. He grinned, and almost bounced in his chair, while Tad seemed to pick up on it and he mustered a little smile.

 “Huh… when?” Eddie said. He seemed to understand the concept, but he wanted the intricacies; Abraham couldn’t blame him. He did say the weekend, but they were still young children. It could slide.

 “In a week. Seven days. Does that sound okay?”

 The father got four nods. Robert’s was slower, and he obviously understood it the best of the four. He knew—simply, this was a step further in his dad’s and Jack Kennedy’s relationship. And if his father was happy, if things were better, how could he be upset with that?

 It seemed like everything was going good. Maybe everything would stay on that path, and go good, and this could be fun. Abraham didn’t quite feel as panicked. Maybe, in fact, this would be a great thing? He’d get to meet Jack’s parents (after he did thorough research at some point), the kids could have fun, there’d be new sights to see. They’d all get something out of it.

 And if he was feeling a stirring of excitement in his stomach, then he let it be.

-

 Days passed. Slow, almost. Like it wanted to prolong the time until Abraham inevitably met Jack’s parents. Jack, of course, was more okay with this. Because he had time to properly chew out Ted, and keep himself calm about the idea that Abraham would be meeting his parents. He never thought it’d get this far.

 He’s glad, of course, but—this is important. It can make or break everything. Kennedy children still needed their parent’s approval. That was shown, from Joe to Teddy, quite plainly.

 Jack, however, prioritized chewing out Ted first. Across the phone. That would get it through better. It just took him two days to do so.

 “Hello?”

 “Ted, you owe me an explanation before I wring your neck through the phone.”

Silence.

“… Is this about the shoes on mom’s piano—”

 “No—and, frankly, I don’t want to get into that right now. Why did you tell mom about Abraham and I?” it made him feel like a teenager again, getting upset over something so simple. But it was incredibly important. This was his first, serious, non-straight relationship in a while. To not even be able to tell his mother himself? It made Jack upset.

 A shift from Ted’s end, and a pause, like he didn’t know what to say—

 “In my defense, I thought it was a good idea, because Abraham was nice and I---”

 “And you were probably drunk.”

 Jack wasn’t always so fierce about things to his youngest brother, but they were adults. They could talk like so.

 “… It was only one drink before I decided to do it,” mumbled Ted, and Jack couldn’t even frown at that, he was irritated enough.

 “You still did it. Why?”

 “Well she’s been wondering when you’ll date again! When you’ll, y’know, get back in the scene! Seriously! Not just random flings and situationships, but something serious! And hey, if you’re happy in a gay serious relationship, it should be celebrated!”

 “Telling our mother without my permission isn’t celebrating.” Jack grit out. He almost saw Ted’s point, but not quite. Not entirely.

 “… Kind of… but—still. Jack, I really thought it was a good idea! And it saved you from doing it. Or telling dad. I mean, c’mon we both know that’d be difficult. It’s dad. I probably can’t be too specific because I’m not confident our phones aren’t bugged, but you get what I mean.”

 He did have a point there. Jack could see that. Their father… well, was their father.

 Jack sighed.

 “You still told mom, who told dad, without my permission or warning me. That’s basically a violation of sibling code. It’s like if I told Ma you definitely didn’t save everything for marriage—”

 “Hey, dad already knows, that’s bad enough—”

 “Still. Can I at least get an apology?”

 Ted sighed on the other side of the phone, like it pained him, but Jack knew it didn’t. He’d use his baby brother’s idolization of him, Bobby, and Joe, against said baby brother, if he needed to.

 “… I’m sorry I told mom and dad about your relationship without your permission.”

 “Thank you. On another note, Jackie…” Jack trailed off for a moment, looking out of his bedroom window, “… told me you and Joan—”

 An immediate hang up. Jack sighed. Well, that meant Ted wasn’t in the mood to be emotionally vulnerable or open. That seemed to run in Kennedy’s, or, most of them. He wasn’t going to press on it. But he’d try to bring it up again eventually.

 For right now, he had to keep meticulously planning everything out. And so far, he was doing good. He just hoped it’d stay this way. He just really, really hoped his family didn’t pull a fast one on him.

-

 The days were moving and it was anxiety-inducing. The tickets were ordered. If Jack wanted, he could probably get a private flight to Hyannis Port. But he was trying to make this seem normal to Abraham, like his family wasn’t rich as all hell, and had been for a long time.

 Though, it was relieving to know the kids were all on board. He hoped they’d get a kick out of what Hyannis Port had to offer. Ignoring that the place was large, and probably intimidating, Jack hoped Abraham’s kids would have fun.

 And it had an added bonus of his own children getting to see their family. John-John and Caroline were so thrilled to see Uncle Bobby that it was practically infectious. And that didn’t erase the excitement of seeing their other uncles and aunts, either, or their grandparents. And as nervous as Jack was, he would have been a liar if he said he wasn’t a little excited. He not only got to see all of his siblings again, but he’d hopefully gain his parents’ approval on his relationship with Abraham. That meant a lot.

 There were different goals the other man had to meet, of course. Ones that didn’t fit a ‘Kennedy wife’ rubric. There wouldn’t be any mention of giving Jack children. Or being good at handling the domestic issues. Because Abraham wasn’t going to be a Kennedy wife. He’d be a Kennedy husband. And Kennedy men, in-laws or not, were expected to be tough and yet perfect at the same time.

 His family wasn’t totally ice-cold, but it’d be a big lie to say they’d welcome Abraham with open arms. At least they didn’t have to do it two times in one meeting. Jackie and her… interesting suitor didn’t seem on their way to a happy marriage together. Which Jack was happy about, though he’d wait until he was with Jackie physically to say so. Onassis could go back to his own fancy mansion, as far as Jack was concerned. Jackie might not have been a Kennedy legally anymore, but to say the clan would give up one of their most intelligent, brightest, charming women? What a joke.