Title: Winter Musings

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: A trio of loosely related, highly fluffy and silly ficlets about the progression of Jack and David's relationship, set during winter.

Chapter synopsis: Jack gets very distracted. David eats popcorn.

Category: Slash, romantic fluff.

Warnings: Extreme levels of rather silly musings. Shortness.

Feedback: Please. I heart constructive criticism. No, really, if you have any comments on writing style, characterization, etc etc, please tell me.

Notes: Sorry for the long period since my last post. End-of-term college stuff kicking my bum.

I figured out how to get italics to show up! Well, someone else did and told me, but you get the point.

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Distant, dreamy eyes.

Cold-flushed cheeks and wind-teased hair.

Slow, thoughtful chewing.

Pursed lips, then--oh god--long, lazy licks up his fingers. Back down.

"Jack?"

Jack started, catching himself staring. The tips of his ears began to burn. He had to focus. On words. Not on eyes and fingers and lips--but, dear god, what he imagined doing to those lips . . .

"Jack?" David's voice was more insistent now, concerned.

Jack swallowed, hard, with a throat gone suddenly dry. "Yeah, Dave?" That had sounded normal enough, right? Not like he had been staring at his best friend, watching him and wanting to be doing more than watching. Right? He sure hoped so.

"Are you all right? For a minute there you were looking kind of out of it."

David was looking closely at him, head tilted slightly to the side in that way he did that always made Jack want to answer his questions and make him smile. Well, almost everything David did made Jack want him to smile. And laugh. And look at him with that glowing, happy look on his face. And . . . suddenly, it wasn't just his ears that felt hot; it was his whole face. Listen to me, soundin' like Race does when he's got himself a new girl.

"I'm fine," he choked out. David didn't look very convinced, so he continued. "Just a little warm, is all."

That much was true. His face felt like he'd been sitting too close to a fire. It was beginning to seem like deciding to share that bag of popcorn had been a bad idea.

"Warm?!" If anything, David sounded less convinced. "Jack, it's freezing out here. I'm surprised it hasn't snowed yet." As if to prove his point, he suddenly shivered, pulling his coat tighter.

Jack resisted the urge to slide closer to David and wrap his arms around him. He was already sitting close enough to brush shoulders every so often. They were both perched on a low wall outside Central Park, their last few papers forgotten for a bit while they took a break. That's why they'd split the cost of a striped bag of popcorn from the Polish vender. It had been steaming hot and they had been cold and tired.

Until David had started eating, that is. Then Jack was all too warm. It wouldn't have been quite so bad if he hadn't been so David about how he ate popcorn. He had taken a small, tidy handful and placed one piece in his mouth at a time, swinging his legs idly as he concentrated on whatever it was he had been thinking about. Drawing out the torture unintentionally, as Jack watched each white kernel slide past slightly chapped lips . . .

"Jack!"

"Whaa?" Damn, he kept getting distracted.

"You're acting really strange. That's the third time I called your name just now." David bit his lip then nodded sharply. He slid down off the wall, tugging at Jack's sleeve. "C'mon, I think you need to get inside. Let's hurry and finish selling."

"Sure, Dave." Jack hopped down. He grabbed his papes. "Sounds fine to me," he added absently. Jack sighed, stepping away from the wall.

Where he collided with David, who hadn't moved.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he asked quietly, blue eyes concerned. "You are looking flushed. Maybe you're sick."

Jack started to shake his head, but David's hand was on his forehead and it was so very cool on his warm face except it wasn't helping with the blushing.

He cleared his throat and David yanked his hand away, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry. That's just something my mother always does . . . " he trailed off and it seemed like he was having a flushing problem of his own. Different reasons, of course, but the sight was funny.

"No problem." He grinned, drawing an answering grin from David. One that made his heart flutter and his thoughts go back to popcorn and eyes and fingers and lips . . .