Jesse wakes up that morning alone in Saul's bed. He stretches his limbs out across the mattress. The other side of the bed's gone cold, because Saul's not a fan of the whole awkward morning-after thing.

But Saul's scent still lingers on the sheets and the pillows Jesse's burying his face into. Jesse breathes it in, desperate for a piece of him. He shuts his eyes and can almost imagine living in this house and sharing his life with Saul, coming home to warm hands and gentle kisses, maybe the pitter-patter of little feet as the years go by. But the image doesn't hold. Life has already handed Jesse a blessing far beyond his expectations; it's selfish of him to want more.

Jesse forces himself out of bed and makes his way downstairs where Saul's working in the kitchen. Saul turns around at the smacking sound of Jesse's footsteps on the tile. "You sleep okay?"

His face heats up at the memory of sliding into Saul's bed and absorbing the warmth of his body. "Yeah, thanks."

"No problem. What're friends for?" Jesse moves closer to the countertop and sees two bulging muffins on a plate. "I saved you some breakfast," Saul says, pushing the plate across the counter. "If you want."

"Sure." Jesse sidles up beside him and leans his weight against the counter. He's picking apart a muffin when he realizes Saul's staring at him pretty intently. Jesse does his best to act as if he doesn't notice, but he's never been great at feigning disinterest when people he's attracted to might be checking him out.

Saul tilts his head and narrows his eyes, leaning in a little closer. Jesse holds his breath. "Are you wearing make-up?"

God, is that what he'd been staring at? "No," Jesse mumbles. He'd been so tired last night he hadn't bothered to shower. The make-up must have rubbed off in his sleep, smeared across his face in a way that's glaringly obvious.

"You tryin' to impress some girl? 'Cause if the scars are a deal-breaker, forget about her."

Jesse winces, turning away as Saul moves in to study his face. "Why? I'm hideous," he says through his teeth. "Look what those motherfuckers did to me!" It's the most he's said about his enslavement, and Jesse wishes he could take the words back, feeling too vulnerable when it's just blurted out like that.

Saul reaches out and hooks a finger beneath Jesse's chin. Jesse shuts his eyes, sick under the scrutiny of his gaze. "But you survived," Saul reminds him in a gentle voice. "You're the last man standing. You don't need to hide that." He lifts his other hand and rubs his thumb over the long scar on Jesse's cheek, revealing the long white crescent. "And nobody should ever ask you to."

Jesse's mouth opens in awe. He's never wanted to kiss Saul more than he does right now. He's been holding back for a myriad of reasons, but God damn it, Jesse just wants one nice thing he gets to keep. And Saul looks like he's waiting for Jesse to act on this thing that's got him twisted up into knots.

Jesse can't stay away. God, he just can't.

So Jesse throws caution to the wind, gets his hands full of Saul's shirt, and seals their mouths together. Saul's mouth is softness and give under Jesse's own, and Saul turns his head a little so he can kiss Jesse back. Jesse lets him lead, just focusing on the way his lips feel, the sweet taste of dopamine on his tongue, the warmth of a hand sliding around the back of his neck. Saul is a magnificent kisser, sparking up something inside of Jesse he feared was long dead. It's as if each time their mouths move together, Saul's breathing another reason to wake up into Jesse's lungs. Air infused with love and the promise of something better.

Jesse doesn't ever want to stop kissing him.

And it takes a minute or two for their mouths to slow and eventually break apart. Jesse gazes at him in wonder and reverence that Saul could ever see him as someone worth kissing. He's got plenty of things on his mind, but what bubbles out is: "I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me. That's why you'd always look away."

Saul's thin-lipped smile fades into something agonized, like Jesse's words have wounded him. "What? No, never!" His hand slides to Jesse's face, palm molding to the curve of his cheek. "Jesse, I could stare at you forever, but I didn't think that'd be socially acceptable. So, yeah, I looked away. Y'know how they say you'll go blind if you stare at the sun too long?"

"Or if you look into the Ark from Raiders."

"Very funny," Saul says, smiling like he's humoring Jesse. "You're gorgeous, kid—hey, don't roll your eyes. I mean it, Pretty Boy."

A grin tugs at the corner of Jesse's lips. "'Pretty Boy'?"

Saul kisses the smirky line of Jesse's mouth, making him giggle. "I think it's perfect. Very descriptive."

Jesse lays his hands on Saul's chest. He could definitely get used to rough, wide hands on his hips and the swell of an erection pressed against his ass. He could probably suck a dick if he had to. Totally. It's not like he hasn't thought about it before. Jesse's gay as hell, yo.

"Is this your first time makin' out with a dude?" he asks, because he has to know if he's the only one treading new territory here.

"It's that obvious, huh?"

"Yeah, totally," Jesse lies. "You need some practice." He tugs at the hem of Saul's t-shirt to bring him nearer.

Saul lifts an eyebrow. "Are you volunteering?"

Jesse answers that by covering Saul's mouth with his own.

They stay there in the middle of the kitchen, their mouths breaking apart and reconvening, hands sliding over arms and fisting handfuls of clothing. Jesse can feel things pressing against his thigh, and, yeah, it's a little weird to have another boner in the room—especially one that's touching him—but the longer it stays there the more he gets used to it. It's kind of hot that Saul's turned on this much just by kissing him. Of course, Jesse's hard too, but what doesn't give him a boner?

Enough time passes for Jesse to sigh in defeat when he glances at the clock again. "I have to work today," he grumbles around Saul's kisses.

"So I'm dating a mechanic, huh? Y'know this means I will never stop making lube jokes, right?"

Jesse laughs and holds onto the feeling as long as he can. "God, you're so gross." He kisses the smugness off of Saul's mouth, because kissing Saul is something he can do now; he's going to abuse the fuck out of this newfound privilege.

Saul's fingers tighten in Jesse's shirt. "C'mon, just call in sick. Say you have a severe lack of vitamin D in your life." He wiggles his eyebrows, just in case Jesse didn't get the joke. "Admit it, you're tempted."

"Yeah, a little," Jesse says, because he so is. "But I don't wanna rush this." He tips his head back as Saul trails kisses over the line of his jaw. "This is totally new for me. I wanna slow down instead of just blowin' through everything without gettin' a chance to really enjoy it, y'know?"

Saul pauses. "I'm sorry, what was that about blowing?"

Jesse exhales a chuckle through his nose and shoves a playful hand at Saul's chest. "For real though. Just be patient, alright?"

Saul's face shifts into something sad, like he's afraid he's done something wrong. His hand slides along the length of Jesse's tattooed arm. "Hey, Jess', I'm just—you know that's just me, don't you? I make jokes. That's what I do. I'm not—I'm not trying to pressure you into anything, you know that, right?"

Jesse nods. Saul's hands are a lot warmer than he remembers. "I know. But I just got permission to kiss you. I wanna enjoy that a little while longer." Saul seals their lips together, wanting every bit of Jesse he's allowed.

It's a cruel joke that Jesse would find himself in a healthy, happy relationship and not even be able to properly enjoy it. He doesn't hate his job, but he'd rather be making out with Saul right now than working on cars. But, whatever, it's just eight hours.

He tries to duck inside and avoid Maggie, because, yeah, he did just break up with her yesterday. That's gonna be a little awkward, no matter how well she seemed to take it. But she catches him as he's shoving his bag into the lockers. "Hey you."

Jesse spazzes and flails at the sound of her voice. "Yo. What's up?"

"Duane says it's probably gonna be slow today, so we can work on your car if you want."

"Yeah, that'd be ace. Thanks." He shuts the locker door, which clangs a little too loudly. He's never broken up with someone and then had to see them every day. He's used to swallowing his feelings for fear of rejection, so being the rejecter instead of the rejectee is a whole new level of awkward for Jesse. Maybe it isn't actually awkward at all, but it feels like it should be, and that makes him a little dizzy.

Maggie watches him as they walk out to the yard. "Somethin' happen?"

"What? No."

"You're smiling."

Jesse realizes with a start that she's only mentioning this because it's strange, and he's not sure how to feel about that. The act of him smiling must be rare enough for her to notice it. Jesus.

He shrugs, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "I dunno, I guess I just feel good today..." Yeah, he's not gonna mention that he hooked up with his roommate the morning after breaking up with Maggie. No good lies down that road.

But Jesse really needs lessons in lying, because Maggie doesn't look convinced. "Really? 'Cause my sister has that same smile when she talks about Rick, the dreamy captain of the football team."

Jesse's face goes stupidly hot. He opts for silence here.

"So who is she?"

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away. "Nobody..." Damn it, why can't he stop smiling?

"I won't be mad. Unless it's my sister, 'cause you're a little too old for her, no offense. C'mon, we're friends. Friends talk about this stuff."

When they reach the Nissan, Jesse leans against the driver's side, watching Maggie's face for any signs of jealousy or heartbreak that he's crushing on someone else. He doesn't see any, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He digs the heel of his shoe into the dirt. "It's not a girl," he admits, dropping his gaze to the ground.

Her eyes go wide in realization. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, sounding wounded but also like she already knows the answer.

Playing up the gay thing will probably take the sting out of his rejection, so Jesse's gonna go with that. He shrugs again. "Didn't know you'd be cool with it."

"Well, I am. You wanna tell me about him?"

"He's my roommate." Jesse feels his face stretch into a smile around the words. "I've liked him for a while, and he, uh, finally kissed me this morning."

"Aw, that's great! I'm happy for you guys." Maggie tosses him a wrench from the toolbox by her feet. Jesse fumbles with the catch but manages not to drop the thing. "How'd you meet him?"

Jesse wants to be honest with her—at least, as honest as he can be in this capacity. But how long will it be until he can't keep all the lies straight in his head? So Jesse just says, "We used to know each other. He moved here a couple months ago, and when I came here needin' a place to stay for a bit he hooked me up."

"He sounds real nice. And maybe he had a little crush on you from the start if he let you live with him."

Jesse considers that for a moment. He hadn't said they were friends, which Maggie probably picked up on. So, yeah, it's not too outlandish to think Saul might have been nursing an attraction of his own to Jesse. Which colors every interaction Jesse had with him before Omaha so fucking awfully, because Jesse was kind of a douche, too wrapped up in his quest for Mr. White's approval to see anything clearly. And then it was all about revenge, and if that meant causing a bit of collateral damage to get back at Mr. White, well, Jesse was too self-absorbed to care.

He wonders if Hallmark makes an "I'm sorry I punched you in the face and almost shot you" card. Probably not.

Jesse just shrugs and says, "Yeah, maybe."

Duane steps out of the garage an hour or so later, boots kicking up gravel. "Hey, you two lovebirds."

Maggie snickers. "Lovebirds?" That's probably so much funnier now that she thinks Jesse's gay.

"Whatever." Duane makes a face. "Chris is sick with some sort of flu, so these Jays tickets are a total waste," he says, whipping two colorful tickets out of his pocket.

Jesse hates that the first thing that falls out of his mouth is, "So scalp 'em."

Duane lifts an eyebrow. "I was gonna give 'em to you guys, but thanks for the life-hack." He moves to stuff the tickets into his pocket, but Maggie stops him.

"Wait, wait, we'll take 'em!"

Jesse gapes at her. "We will?"

Maggie gives him a subtle wink. "Yeah, of course. Aaron loves baseball."

Jesse stops himself from saying, "I do?" Maybe he shouldn't blurt out the first fucking thought that pops into his head. Silence is golden, or whatever.

Duane hands over the tickets, and Maggie beams at him. "When's the game?" she asks.

"Tomorrow night. Don't worry, I'll let you go home early."

"You're the best boss ever," Maggie says.

"Yeah, I'm fantastic." Duane turns and heads back to the garage. "You guys have fun."

"Who's Chris?" Jesse asks Maggie while Duane's walking away.

"Duane's BFF." She waits until Duane's disappeared before placing both tickets in Jesse's hand. "You should take your roommate."

Jesse's mouth opens for a second without any sound coming out. Then: "Wait, what about you?"

Maggie scoffs amusement. "You guys should go. It's the perfect date."

Jesse sputters out fragments of gratitude, because he's terrible at accepting impromptu kind gestures. "I dunno, I don't think he's a big sports guy." He snaps his fingers. "Hey, y'know what? Give 'em to your sister, have her ask out that football captain dude she's got her eye on. He'd probably go for it, right? I mean, I already got the dude I had an eye on."

Maggie tilts her head and stares at him like he's an enchanting artifact in a museum. "You're really somethin' special, y'know that?"

Jesse's face goes hot, bashful under the compliment. He rubs the back of his neck and glances at the car. "We should, uh, we should try this thing out, see if it runs."

Jesse gets the car started with its engine purring under the hood like it's straight off the lot. After a quick test drive, the thing doesn't fall apart or randomly break, so Jesse figures he's done a damn good job. Even Duane comes out of the garage to gawk at the resurrected vehicle.

"You actually did it," he says, reverent in the face of Jesse's dedication or ability—or both.

Jesse shrugs like it's nothing. "Maggie helped a lot."

Maggie smiles at him.

Duane digs the toe of his shoe into the dirt. "Well, I'm a man of my word, so"—he spreads his hands—"car's yours."

Jesse switches off the engine, swings open the driver's door. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it. You ever need anything, just let me know, alright?"

Duane jerks a thumb behind him at the shop. "You wanna mop the front? My back's killin' me."

Jesse thinks he can do that much for a guy who just gave him a car.

The eight hours until Jesse comes home are the longest of Saul's life, and he's got nothing to do but wait. All he can think about is what he'd like to do with Jesse when they're finally alone again. He feels like an asshole, because Jesse made his feelings clear on any avenues of sexual touching. But Saul's not going to fuck this up by moving too fast. Whatever Jesse wants is the focus here.

Since they can't have their first official date until Saturday, Saul figures he ought to do something special for Jesse tonight. So he fixes up a fancy spaghetti dinner and even splurges for a decent bottle of wine, because he's classy like that. He's in the middle of setting the table when Jesse comes home. "Don't come in here!" Saul warns him, trying to shield the table with his body. "Go get your shower. You don't even wanna see the kitchen right now."

"Did you make a mess?" Jesse asks with way more exasperation in his voice than he's entitled to.

"Y—yeah! Huge mess! Absolute disaster area. For your own sanity, you should just not come in here for maybe the next ten minutes." He watches Jesse climb the stairs, hears him grumble something under his breath about messy boyfriends. Saul revels in the fact that he's Jesse's boyfriend now; he hasn't had a relationship to be excited about in forever.

He gets the table set in the time it takes Jesse to finish washing up. Saul's lighting a candle for the centerpiece as Jesse descends the stairs. "Good, you're just in time for dinner!" He switches the kitchen light off and lets the candlelight lead the way.

The dorkiest grin spreads over Jesse's face when he sees the display on the dining table; Saul's heart skips a beat or two. "Oh my God, you did all this for me?"

"Nah, I thought I'd treat myself, but since you're here you might as well join me." He's still using humor as a shield, because the idea of Jesse actually liking Saul enough to date him blows his mind. "And is that how you dress for dinner?" he adds, referring to Jesse's t-shirt and boxer shorts ensemble.

Jesse scowls at him. "I always dress like this when we eat. And, yo, you're wearin' sweatpants that say 'Budweiser.'"

"Excuse you, they're lounge pants."

"Do you even drink beer?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not taking any more questions today. Now sit down and have dinner with your messy boyfriend."

Jesse pulls Saul in for a kiss, and Saul's happy to oblige him. The rasp of stubble against his skin is deliciously new and foreign, enough to send the chill of arousal down his spine. He opens his mouth a little, curls his fingers in Jesse's t-shirt. Jesse tilts his head and licks at Saul's tongue for a moment before breaking away. "You're awesome, y'know that?"

"I might remember you telling me this before, but I don't mind hearing it again."

Jesse moves for the chair. "Can we eat now? I'm starved."

Saul stops him before he can sit down. "Slow down, kiddo. This is a date, remember?" He pulls the chair out for Jesse, and Jesse snorts a laugh under his breath, mouths, "Wow," as Saul sits across from him. "A date you don't even have to put on pants for."

Jesse's face is even more knee-knockingly gorgeous by candlelight. Saul can see the hint of color in his cheeks. "Yeah, the next few'll probably have a more strict dress code. I finally got the car fixed."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah, I drove it home and everything. We can take it out tomorrow if you want."

"That'd be perfect, actually."

"You got somethin' planned?"

"Maybe I do," Saul says. "You'll just have to wait and see."

Jesse hides a smile by stuffing food into his mouth. "This spaghetti is the bomb," he says after a couple bites. "I never would'a imagined you bein' a good cook."

"We've all got our secrets."

Jesse nods as if that's profound somehow. "Yeah. But if you find the right person to share 'em with, they don't have to be secrets anymore." He gives Saul a meaningful look and the twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Saul feels a flutter in his chest that tells him he's found the perfect person.

"I guess it's not gonna be weird anymore when I sleep with you, huh?" Jesse says after a moment.

Saul's not even going to think about the level of subtextual innuendo in that sentence. "It was never weird, Jesse. You suffered an unimaginable tragedy. Well, a lot of them, actually, but that's not the point. You deserve to have something good for once."

"We both do," Jesse says. Saul hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until Jesse came along and filled the empty spaces in his life.

He raises his glass. "To something good?"

Jesse grins and does the same. "To something good."

After dinner, Jesse tries his hardest not to immediately follow Saul into the bedroom. He doesn't want to seem too clingy or needy, despite the fact that he totally is. This is the first intimate relationship he's had in over half a year. Of course he's going to be insatiable.

Jesse finds his way into Saul's room after the lights are off and the house has gone still with the hum of the A/C. He peers into the room. Saul's lying on the bed with his back to Jesse. There's a chance he might be asleep, but Jesse's going to risk it. "Yo, you awake?" he whispers into the dark.

Saul makes a sound of acknowledgement.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, c'mon, kid. Cuddle up," Saul mumbles, sounding half-asleep.

Jesse treads carefully across the floor, as if he's sneaking in somewhere forbidden. He climbs into the bed and slides alongside Saul. "I didn't have any nightmares. I just thought this is somethin' we can do now that we're"—he searches for the word—"boyfriends." A thrill races up his spine.

Saul rolls over so he's facing Jesse. "You're always welcome here, Jesse." He slinks an arm around Jesse's waist and tucks him up close. The line of Saul's body is solid and warm, and Jesse's filled with the inexplicable desire to hold him. He loops one arm around Saul's ribs and tucks the other inside the space between his neck and shoulder.

Saul's hand pushes its way underneath Jesse's t-shirt, his fingers traveling up the valley of Jesse's spine. Jesse's mouth falls open in a soft, startled sound of surprise. It's been ages since someone's touched him like this, just the faintest, feather-light caress. He wonders what it might be like to kiss Saul in the dark, and then he doesn't have to wonder, because Saul's moving in and kissing Jesse's open mouth. Saul kisses like it's something he could do all day and never tire of. It doesn't feel like it's leading up to anything, like Saul's trying to get him in the mood for something more. His mouth is soft and gentle and honest in a way Jesse's never known.

Saul spreads his hand out over the planes of Jesse's shoulder blades as his kisses turn slow and sluggish. Jesse gets his mouth free to say, "Yo, you can sleep if you want. I'll be here in the morning. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Saul seems to like that. He nestles in closer to Jesse and closes his eyes. Jesse's never found it easier to sleep than when he's cuddled into Saul's chest, holding him tight.