Canon-compliant with early 7x14. Don't watch if you haven't seen 7x14 yet.

Necklace

It's what Jackson has been craving and aching for, ever since Miller left on his mission. They had some time together in their room in the farmhouse on Sanctum, yes. But Jackson couldn't lose himself in it, not with Abby's death tearing up his bruised heart. Her loss still stings but Jackson is putting it aside now.

Here he is with Miller in their old room inside the bunker. It's homier now. Candles give off golden light. The couple has their own safe cocoon. The bunker may be dark all around them but this sweet, cozy room is all theirs.

Jackson knows Miller is hurting. Bellamy was like a brother to him, and now he's gone. One more loss that they will have to absorb. He thinks that Miller's not ready to open up and have a discussion about it though. But that's okay. This moment is about the two of them.

And Jackson is determined to make this good, really good, for Miller. He licks his ear and then whispers into it, "Tell me what you'd like. What would make you feel good."

"You bring oil from Sanctum?" Miller asks straightforwardly, a twinkle in his eye.

"Stuffed a bottle into my backpack. And there's another flask in my jacket."

Miller's smile is instinctive and genuine. "That's my man."

He goes on to whisper to Jackson exactly what he wants next, and Jackson obliges – after kissing Miller's lips slowly and deeply. Jackson has been aroused pretty much since the last candle was lit and the last item of clothing discarded, and his arousal is only growing now as he enjoys exploring Miller's mouth with his own. Moments later, Miller is on his stomach and Jackson is gently massaging his back and shoulders with oil. He knows just the right spots to press after so many years of practice. He's going for a mixture of relaxing and arousing.

Miller groans and murmurs, "Okay", signaling Jackson where to go next. With so many years together, they've become adept at understanding each other's signals. Jackson coats more oil onto his fingers and then gently rubs and presses in exactly the right way to help Miller ease up and open up. Miller has once told him that Jackson is the "only person anywhere, ever" who he'd trust to do this and to do it right. 'You do it like we have all the time in the world', Miller once said. 'You make it easy somehow.'

And then, some time later, Jackson is inside him, slowly moving as he kisses the back of Miller's neck.

For Jackson, it's never been about the desires of his flesh or the thrusting of hips or whose cock is where or the pursuit of a climax - though all those factors are present and enjoyed. It's always been more about bonding, about feeling like they are merging and becoming one. Eventually, gradually, he does move faster and both men's moans and grunts become louder. Both whisper endearments and some occasional dirty talk as their climaxes get closer and closer and closer and then are reached, sending exquisite feelings coursing through their bodies.

Not long afterwards, Jackson is kissing the back of Miller's neck. His lips brush against the chain of the necklace Miller wears. Jackson thinks back to the day he bestowed it upon him.

It's Year Three after the death wave, Year Three inside the bunker with its fighting pits, its fear and anxiety, and its population still reeling from the dark year.

The necklace belonged to Jackson's mother, Mary. His gentleness and compassion come from her. He lost her to an illness, he held her in his arms as she died, and the sadness and heaviness has never really left him. The only way he could try to live with the loss was by becoming a healer and devoting his life to preventing as much suffering as he can. He knew that if he could spare one child from having the cry until they felt ill because of the death of a parent then his life would be worth it.

Jackson holds the necklace in his hands. As his thumb caresses the chain, he can't decide if the gesture he wishes to make is risky or if it's a fait accompli. But he's going to do it.

Miller's at his best after dinner, so Jackson waits until then. He seems to be lucky today. There are no patients in med bay, and Niylah and Gaia have agreed to their roles in this.

Jackson paces around the rec room as Niylah plays the piano. He's trying to remember who taught her to play, but the name escapes him and he doesn't want to interrupt her. She plays beautifully. The piece is slow and relaxing, contemplative. He puts the necklace back inside his pocket as his hands are just a bit damp now.

The door opens and Miller walks through, having been escorted by Gaia. Miller looks around. "What's this? How's the rec room so empty?" The rec room never has fewer than 20 or 30 people in it. Sometimes there's a line to get inside, sometimes you can barely hear the piano over all the noise.

"We have our methods," Gaia says with a smile as she takes her leave and closes the door.

Miller's eyes dart between Jackson and Niylah. "Hi Niylah," he says.

She turns, smiles and nods, and continues playing.

Jackson smiles. He's strangely relaxed. Maybe it's just seeing the look in Miller's eyes, the surprise turning to curiosity with a dash of happiness.

"Uh, so I hope we're not expected to dance," Miller says, glancing at the piano.

Jackson keeps smiling. He can always count on Miller's sense of humor. It's one of the things that keeps him alive inside this place, one of the things that makes him look forward to the next day instead of dreading it.

"No. Niylah just wanted to give us some nice music," Jackson answers as he takes a step closer to Miller. They are just inches apart now. He swallows and meets Miller's eyes, and from the slight way Miller's mouth opens, Jackson guesses he has at least an idea as to what is coming next.

"I-I wanted to ask if you'd accept something," Jackson says. "My mother – she gave me a necklace." He's told Miller this part before, but repeats it anyway. "I managed to keep it with me when the Ark went down and when we moved here." He reaches for one of Miller's hands and holds it. "I wanted to ask if I could give it to you. To symbolize my love and commitment to you. To symbolize that my heart is yours. I would be honored if you'd wear it."

Miller clutches his hand tightly. "You know the answer is yes," he says, his voice intense and almost raspy. "I would be honored to wear it."

Jackson reaches into his pocket and pulls out the necklace. Miller undoes his jacket slightly and loosens his collar. Jackson's hands don't tremble – he's used to doing tricky and precise things with his hands in med bay – and he carefully fastens the clasp around Miller's neck.

"Hey Jacks," Miller says, turning back to face him. He cups Jackson's face in his hands. "I don't have any family heirlooms to give you. My-my father-"

"I know."

Miller has already shared the story with Jackson. His father had a treasured pocket watch. Sergeant Miller had thought it was on his person when the Ark went down, but - well, it wasn't. It was lost to the chaos that has marked the lives of Skaikru.

"Maybe I can tattoo your name on my arm," Miller smiles.

Jackson laughs a little and shakes his head. "You know my opinion on anything involving pain."

Miller's hands continue to touch the sides of Jackson's face. "I love you. And I am committed to you for the rest of my life." He pauses. "My husband."

"My husband," Jackson repeats. Miller pulls him into a kiss.

"Guys," Niylah pipes up, as the song she was playing has ended, "we have the room for 45 more minutes before we promised to start letting people back in. So if you're planning to fuck on the sofa, go for it. Gaia and I will hold the door."

"Thanks, Niylah," Miller intones, the way only Miller can.

Thank you for reading! I was so happy with the Mackson scene in 7x14 that I had to do something with it. And create backstory for Miller's necklace