Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Word Count: 434

Notes: God. Somebody stop me. I can't get these two out of my head! Anyway, um, I like trying new style/formatting things, hence this story.

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Jack is—

(laughing, head thrown back, eyes glittering and bright. He runs after Blink and finally snatches his cowboy hat away. After pushing Blink down onto the ground, he puts it back on and pulls it down so that David cannot see his eyes. It makes David's stomach twist. He wants to see Jack's eyes; he wants to know for certain that Jack won't leave again. But he can't, because Jack is—Jack is untamable. Jack is)

—wild.

Jack is—

(cocking his head to the side quizzically, shirt fisted in one hand. David is frozen to the spot, eyes fixed on bare skin, and he knows that everything he wants hidden is written all over his face. It's almost a relief to have it discovered, finally. Except—Jack rests a hand on David's shoulder and asks, "Everything all right, Davey?" David stares, and finally manages to answer, "Yeah, Jack, everything's fine." Only it's not, it's not fine, because David cannot believe that Jack can honestly be that slow, that Jack can be so incredibly)

—blind.

Jack is—

(stretched out on the roof, arms folded beneath his head, eyes closed. The setting sun paints him in shades of red and gold, and David forgets to breathe for a time. David can see the delicate shadows Jack's eyelashes leave on his cheeks, and he is irrationally jealous of the sunlight; he wants to cover Jack as closely as it does. He says nothing, tracing the long lines of Jack's body with his eyes, imagining what it would be like to do so with his hands instead. His throat closes tight; Jack looks something otherworldly like this, and David can't bear it, Jack is so unbelievably)

—beautiful.

Jack is—

(pinning David against a wall, hand splayed across his chest. There is dawning recognition in his eyes, and all David can do is close his own and wait for the first blow. It never comes. Instead, he feels fingertips trace over his face, over his mouth, reach down and cup his chin. His eyes fly open, and he sees Jack smiling at him, expression soft with affection. "What took you so long, Davey?" he asks, tilting David's chin up. David doesn't get a chance to answer before Jack leans down and slowly, carefully kisses him. David freezes for a second, and then grasps Jack's shirt and pulls him closer. His kiss back is anything but slow and careful, because he never thought he could have this, and now he does, and Jack is)

—David's.

Of all the things describing Jack, David thinks that last is the most important.

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