Jesse wakes up in the same position he fell asleep, which he's impressed by; he usually tosses and turns and kicks off the blankets in a restless fit. Saul's fast asleep alongside him with one hand spread wide over Jesse's lower back. Jesse can't help but be curious about how his body might feel under his fingers. Apparently this relationship has turned him into a sweaty-palmed virgin all over again.
He sneaks a hand underneath Saul's t-shirt, maps the slope of his spine with his fingers. Saul's warm and weighty beneath Jesse's hands, and Jesse skims over his back, trails over the curve of his hip. Saul makes a soft sound and shifts into the touch, nudging his hips forward. Jesse jerks his hand away, because something hard brushed against his palm, and he's not entirely ready for that yet.
Saul stirs awake and blinks an eye open. "I thought you wanted to take things slow."
Jesse sucks in a startled breath. "Y—you pushed into my hand."
"'Cause you were fondling me in my sleep."
"That makes it sound weird. I was just"—he tries to find a better word—"touching." No luck.
"Still sounds weird." Saul nestles a hand around the back of Jesse's head, bringing him in closer.
Jesse breathes out a laugh and buries his face in Saul's chest. "Shut up." Saul smells like Old Spice and aftershave, like a home Jesse never knew he had. "Fine, maybe I won't touch you anymore."
"You're breakin' my heart, Pretty Boy."
Jesse grins despite himself. "Don't call me that."
"I call it like I see it, yo." Saul smirks at him and captures Jesse's mouth under his own. Jesse learns it's hard to kiss when you're smiling.
"Well, maybe you should get some glasses."
"My eyesight's fine, kiddo. Maybe you're the one who needs your eyes checked." Saul traces his thumb along Jesse's cheek and kisses the scars there. Jesse swoons under the affection, thrilled that Saul embraces the darkest parts of him.
He pushes his fingers through Saul's messy hair. Jesse tries to encapsulate how Saul makes elation and joy flow through him like a drug, but the best he can come up with is, "You're so awesome." Close enough.
"You're pretty great yourself." Saul kisses Jesse's mouth once more before forcing himself to sit up in the bed. "You in the mood for breakfast?"
Jesse's in the mood for staying in bed all day making out, but he knows that could lead to something he's not ready for. So he says, "Yeah, totally," and follows Saul down the staircase.
"So how do you feel about amusement parks?"
"Is that where we're goin' today?"
"Well, that depends on your answer."
"Our first legit date is at an amusement park?" Jesse doesn't know whether to be charmed or find that hilarious.
Saul pauses his descent down the stairs and glances back at Jesse. "That's not too cheesy, is it? I thought it'd be fun, but we can do a movie or somethin' if you want." Saul looks tragically disappointed, like he's accepted he's going to get this wrong over and over again.
Jesse reaches for his hand and twines their fingers together. "No way. We're doin' this. I haven't had a cheesy, silly date in, like, forever." Saul doesn't seem like he's tried dating since he got here, which, God, that's depressing. Did he just move here in blank resignation that his life was going to be lonely and unremarkable? "I went all the way to Santa Fe with Jane to see some dumb paintings. I'll totally go to an amusement park with you."
Saul smiles, and the intelligent part of Jesse's brain turns to glue.
They take Jesse's car on the road that afternoon because he's eager to show it off. Saul seems pretty impressed by the thing when he slides into the passenger seat.
"Nice, huh?" Jesse grins. "That's all leather interior right there."
"Just like home." Saul switches on the radio and sinks in the cushioned seat.
Jesse stares at him like he's an unpleasant stain on the carpet. "Yo, what're you doin'?"
Saul fiddles with the radio knob. "There's this nifty little thing called 'music' that some people like to listen to when they drive."
"Okay, smartass. Since when does shotgun pick the music?"
"Since, well, now." He cranks up the volume as AC/DC pours out of the speakers. "Wow, that's a pretty impressive sound system. Is that custom?"
Honestly, Jesse should have expected nothing less from him. It's not like Saul's taste in music is terrible, just...unexpected. How many of Saul's likes and dislikes are part of a carefully-constructed persona? Is he even the same guy Jesse knew back in Albuquerque?
Jesse decides some questions are better left unanswered.
The amusement park reminds Jesse more of a carnival than anything else. Compact booths glowing with blinking lights hold toy prizes, cotton candy, refreshments, and games of skill. Behind a long row of concession stands, an enormous Ferris wheel sits in the middle of the park, twinkling against the sky. Off in the distance Jesse can see the Tilt-A-Whirl, a rainbow-colored carousel, and a roller coaster. The air smells of fried grease and oiled metal. Everything's decorated in the spirit of the upcoming holiday; toy spiders sit in fake cobwebs, plastic skeletons—at least Jesse hopes they're plastic—litter the dark corners. Pumpkins with various expressions top booths and hay bales.
It reminds him a bit of the carnival stage from Left 4 Dead 2. Which is awesome, as long as there's no zombie clowns.
"I haven't been to a place like this in years," Jesse marvels aloud, staring up at the rides that stand tall amongst the clouds. "God, I think it was before Jake was even born. We went to Cliff's. You ever been there?"
Saul shakes his head. "Can't say that I have."
"It's pretty dope. But I haven't been on a roller coaster in, like, ten years."
"Your parents never took both of you?"
Jesse shakes his head. "By the time Jake was old enough not to puke all over his shoes ridin' the kiddie coasters, I had to move in with my aunt so I could take care of her. So if they took him, I never knew about it."
"Well, think of it this way: very little has changed in your decade-plus hiatus from the amusement park scene," Saul says as they walk through the crowd. "Pretty much everything's exactly the same as it was fifty years ago, 'cept there's more gruesome accidents."
"That's uplifting." They pass by a ride spinning passengers upside down in a cage that looks like some sort of torture contraption. "I bet that thing's responsible for, like, half those accidents."
Saul lifts an eyebrow and looks meaningfully at the ride. "You wanna try your luck?"
"I didn't come this far just to get done in by a carnival ride."
"I was joking about the gruesome accidents. Of course there's gonna be more accidents because there's more rides available. It's just statistics."
"Still on my 'hell no' list."
"What about haunted houses? No one's ever died in a haunted house."
"That you know about," Jesse corrects. "One time they found a dude hanging in a funhouse in, like, the seventies."
"The most recent haunted house death that comes to mind is from the seventies? I think my point still stands." Saul tugs him in the direction of the looming mansion.
Jesse digs his heels into the gravel. "Yo, why are you so eager to get me outta the picture? You take out an insurance policy on me?"
"Fear is nature's aphrodisiac. The heart gets excited, confuses the brain, and, bam, you're thinkin' the reason your pulse is all crazy is because of the girl—or guy—next to you. That's why you're supposed to see a horror movie on the first date."
"Oh yeah? Well, I don't need some bullshit aphrodisiac to be attracted to you." A flood of exhilaration flows through Jesse at how much truth is in that sentence. Saul just smiles as the wind rustles his hair, like Jesse's honesty doesn't bother him at all.
Jesse spots an arcade a short distance away. "You wanna get your ass kicked in Mortal Kombat?"
"You can do anything you want to my ass, Jesse."
They spend an hour or so in the arcade playing games, and Jesse learns Saul's a hell of a skee-ball player. But Jesse wipes the floor with him in Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat. They make a pretty good team in the dual-player shooting games, wiping out hordes of zombies, aliens, and dinosaurs.
By the time they stumble out of the darkened arcade, the sky's melted into pink and purple evening hues. Light bulbs from the attractions twinkle like stars against the violet canvas of the heavens. The temperature's dropped a couple degrees, making Jesse shiver a little. He's no stranger to cold nights, but the breeze is enough to chill his skin.
"How can you be cold?" Saul asks. "You're wearing a jacket."
"How are you not cold?" Jesse bites back. Saul's only protection against the elements is long sleeves underneath a t-shirt.
"All my bulging, rippling muscles insulate me from the cold," Saul says with a straight face. At Jesse's look of skepticism, he adds, "After six months, you get used to it." Saul links an arm around Jesse's waist and hugs him close, letting him siphon some of his warmth. Jesse's face goes red, because they're in public, but he doesn't fight or pull away. Saul's warm against him, and Jesse will take any excuse to cuddle.
"You're not afraid of heights, are you?" Saul asks as they near the Ferris wheel.
Jesse knows what's coming. "Maybe. I got stuck at the top of a Ferris wheel once."
"Now that you got a boyfriend, getting stuck at the top might not be so bad," Saul says, and Jesse giggles to himself, because Saul's his boyfriend. He's never getting over that. "C'mon, humor me. I'll buy you some cotton candy or somethin'."
Jesse lets Saul steer him in the direction of the ride. "You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy, huh?"
"Not to toot my own horn, but I have been known to negotiate some pretty solid deals."
"I think you did more bribing than negotiating."
"Let's not get too caught up in semantics. Point is, we're focusing on you agreeing to ride the Ferris wheel with me."
Jesse never actually agreed, but he's not going to bring that up now, not when Saul looks so sweet and pleased with himself.
Jesse cuddles close to him during their first ascent on the ride, content with enjoying the view and watching the ground grow farther and farther away. Saul drapes an arm around Jesse's shoulders. Mr. Casual.
"I'm not actually afraid of heights," Jesse admits after a moment.
Saul lays a hand over his chest, faking shock. "I am appalled that you would lie to me."
"I didn't lie. I just said I might be afraid of heights. You're gettin' rusty, Counsellor." Jesse gives him a flirty smile that Saul returns in kind.
"Maybe you should try being uglier so I'm not distracted by your face, Pretty Boy."
Jesse laughs a light, airy sound. "Yeah, sure, I'll get right on that." He leans his head against Saul's shoulder. "As long as I get my cotton candy."
"You drive a hard bargain, kid. But what the hell, I'm a sucker. I'll buy you two."
"Man, I'm awesome at this negotiating thing." Jesse glances out the window when the ride slows to a stop at its highest point. He can see downtown Omaha from here, the world spread out before him like a banquet of earth under a starry evening sky. "The view up here is dope."
"Yeah," Saul agrees, but he's not looking out the window. He's looking at Jesse. Jesse flicks his gaze to Saul, notices the way Saul's staring at his face like he wants to freeze it and frame it forever. Jesse wets his lips, his mouth dry under the intensity of Saul's gaze.
Saul tips Jesse's chin up and brings their mouths together. Jesse makes a pathetic noise of want around the kiss, and Saul tilts his head a little to suck at the corner of Jesse's lips. He follows the line of Jesse's jaw, mouths kisses over his throat. Jesse whimpers and clutches at Saul's t-shirt. Saul skims a slow, unassuming hand along the length of Jesse's thigh. Jesse's first instinct is to jerk away, but he stays still, waiting to see where this goes. Saul's hand curls around the inside of Jesse's thigh, his mouth still sucking kisses into Jesse's neck. He squeezes, and Jesse shudders out a gasp that gets Saul's hand sliding again.
Jesse's acutely aware that Saul's hand is dangerously close to his crotch right now. He can feel the heat of his palm through his jeans, then, whoa, that is so not his thigh. The solid press against Jesse's dick makes his body twitch. He gasps a startled noise that makes Saul immediately pull his hand away to rest on his knee. "Sorry," Saul murmurs against Jesse's throat. "Got a little carried away there."
"Yeah, just a little." Jesse's heart is still thumping madly in his chest, but he can practically sense the chagrin leaking off of Saul in waves. So he reaches out and covers Saul's hand with his own, lacing their fingers together. "But it's cool. Don't worry about it." Jesse squeezes his hand to convey that he'd miss Saul's awkward, clumsy advances if they stopped happening, that he doesn't want to be anywhere else but here.
They spend the rest of the ride in a lazy sprawl against each other, Jesse tucked alongside Saul, and Saul with his arm around Jesse's shoulders as they watch the city rise and fall outside the window.
Night's wrapped around their sleepy little street when Saul and Jesse finally make it home. They linger in Jesse's idling car parked in the driveway, listening to the radio and watching the leaves rustle in the breeze. Jesse stretches out while he waits for the song to end, because Saul insisted they stay in the car for the entire duration of "Ramble On." But Jesse's enjoying being here with him; gone is the pressure of making a flawless first impression or hiding behind pretense. They can just exist together in this space where it's okay to be whatever you are.
"You got a stoner past I don't know about?" Jesse asks, playful.
Saul smirks at him. "You've seen my room, right?"
Saul's bedroom is a shrine to the '60's hippie aesthetic; the walls are covered in posters of The Beatles, AC/DC, and, of course, Led Zeppelin. It looks like the home décor section of a Spencer's store, filled with black light posters and lava lamps and psychedelic colors.
Yeah, Saul was definitely a pot-head in his youth, which amuses Jesse to no end.
"I thought you were more of an eighties guy though." Jesse turns in the seat so he's facing Saul. "How come you're not all about, like, synth pop and shit?"
"I doubt you like only one type of music. Sure, I love Hall & Oates and Van Halen as much as the next guy, but I got a special place in my heart for classic rock." His brows knit together. "That doesn't make me too much of an old fogey, does it?"
"Maybe just a little," Jesse teases. He leans across the seat and says, "I had fun today. Thanks." He can still taste sugar on his tongue from the cotton candy.
"No problem. You deserve it." Saul moves in to kiss him, and Jesse responds with eager lips, his hands knotting in Saul's hair as he crushes their mouths closer.
Saul's licking his way into Jesse's mouth when a pair of headlights cruises past them. Jesse breaks away to watch as the truck pulls into the driveway of Buck and Billy Ray's house. Sure, they're Jesse's friends, but he doesn't think they're totally comfortable with dudes making out.
He glances at Saul. "Inside?"
"Sure."
Jesse shuts off the car and steps out. They're walking to the front door just as Buck and Billy Ray notice them. "Where you fellas been all day?" Buck asks, moving along the sidewalk.
"Oh, uh, we took the car out. I got it fixed up last night, and Saul wanted to see how it runs, so..." Jesse shrugs into silence and stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets. His pulse trips madly under his skin.
Buck looks amused. "Really? Y'all go down to Lover's Lane and neck for a bit?"
Jesse's mouth drops open. "What?"
"Either that or you got a big ol' 'skeeter bite there." Buck points to Jesse's throat, and, oh my God, Jesse's actually going to shrivel up and die of embarrassment right here.
Jesse slaps a hand over his neck as his face heats up. "Yeah, man, those—those things are huge."
Saul touches the small of Jesse's back, making him jump. "Aw, c'mon, kid, give credit where credit's due." Jesse chokes as Saul gets his arm around Jesse's waist and pulls him in close. "He's so shy. It's adorable."
Jesse glances away, chews his lip and stares at the toes of his shoes. He wants nothing more than to curl up into a ball and fly into the sun. He hasn't felt this humilated in years.
"'Bout time," Billy Ray mutters loud enough for them to hear.
"I told you," Buck brags to Saul. "Didn't I tell you?"
"Yeah, you told me. Don't be smug about it."
What the hell are they talking about?
Billy Ray smirks, but there's no cruelty there, just amusement. "So y'all were on a date, huh?"
Saul checks his watch. "I think we still are, so if you'll excuse us..."
The two of them back off. "Oh, of course, no problem. Enjoy your evening, fellas." They move to head inside their junky old house, but Jesse's not just going to let this go.
"Yo, hold up. You guys are cool with this?" he asks, his voice a little shaky.
Dealing with backwoods homophobes is a soft pillow in the face of enduring the torture Jack's gang put him through. But that doesn't stop the panic from traveling through his veins.
Buck looks shocked by Jesse's disbelief. "Why not?"
"'Cause you're, y'know, country folk..." Jesse winces at how awful that sounds out loud. "Obviously not everybody's cool with dudes datin' each other, or there wouldn't be such a big bitchfest when they wanna get married."
Buck spreads his hands. "I've always judged people by what they do, not who they do."
"He's a real humanitarian," Saul adds.
Jesse opens his mouth, closes it. Words have failed him here. Because it's all just too perfect: he falls in love with the one person left in his Heisenberg-tainted world, and their redneck neighbors don't even care—hell, they encourage it, even. Hollywood would reject a screenplay of his life for being too unbelievable.
"So you're not offended or anything?" Jesse asks.
"Just a little offended it took you so long," Billy Ray says with humor. "But I guess I can't fault ya for that. Saul's s'posed to be the casanova here."
"It's tragic when people don't adhere to stereotypes," Saul says, shaking his head. He laces a hand with Jesse's. "C'mon, kid. We still got a couple hours to go. I wanna make the best of 'em." He looks at Buck and Billy Ray. "See you later."
"Yeah, peace," Jesse calls over his shoulder as he follows Saul to the door.
"What did Buck tell you that he's bein' smug about?" Jesse asks once they get inside.
"He might've shared a theory with me," Saul says, being evasive.
Jesse links his arms around Saul's torso. "About what?"
Saul glances away for the briefest moment. "You havin' a crush on me."
"And you didn't believe him?"
Saul chuckles nervously. "Of course not. I mean, it's ridiculous, right? You and me. Me and you. It just—it doesn't make a lot of sense, is all."
Is Saul breaking up with him already? Did Jesse screw this up in record time? "No, dude, it makes total sense. All that stuff you were sayin' about how me comin' here was a blessing in disguise? You're totally right. The things we've survived...it changes you. I don't know if we could ever find somebody else that would understand."
Saul watches him with intense eyes; Jesse goes a little breathless under the gaze.
"You're the first glimpse of heaven I've seen in years." His hands tighten in Saul's t-shirt. "So what if this doesn't make sense? Whatever we got between us, I know you feel it too."
"Oh, I'm—I'm definitely feelin' something," Saul says, glancing down where Jesse's pressed against him.
Jesse bites back amusement. "Anybody who can make me laugh the way you do could never be wrong for me."
"You sure you're not laughing at me?"
"Yeah, you're kind of a dork sometimes, but that's what I like about you. You don't try to be cool; you just do your thing, and if people don't like it, fuck 'em."
"Is this your subtle way of telling me I'm not cool?"
Jesse gives him a warm, teasing look. "You have a lava lamp in your bedroom, dude."
"You say that like it's a bad thing, but you're still dating me," Saul reminds him.
"Yeah, well, maybe I got a soft spot for dorky older guys."
"Lucky me."
Something loud and obnoxious wakes Jesse up in the middle of the night. He groans and nudges Saul, assuming the source of the sound is Saul snoring ridiculously loud. But no, Jesse can still hear it, and it's not snoring. It's music.
Goddamn it.
Saul warned him about this, hadn't he? Jesse hadn't believed him at the time, and he never heard Buck and Billy Ray playing music in the middle of the nights he was trapped in his own head. So of course they'd start jamming out when Jesse can actually sleep without waking up screaming. Of course.
He sighs in frustration and cuddles up to Saul again. Maybe he can learn to ignore it, or dream he's in a club that's playing Rush for some reason. Whatever. It doesn't have to make sense.
Saul barely stirs. It's almost like he doesn't even hear it. Or maybe this happens a lot and he's just used to it by now. Jesus.
Jesse grunts, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. It's not like the music sucks, but even his favorite songs would be obnoxious as fuck in the wee hours of the morning when he's trying to sleep.
Christ, he's actually going to do it. He's actually going to go next door and bitch about turning the music down. Jesse has finally become an old person.
He scrubs a hand over his head and kicks his way free of the blankets. He doesn't bother throwing on shoes or a jacket; he won't be out there that long anyway. When he steps outside, the October air is crisp and cold against his skin. He speed-walks over the concrete, crunching leaves under his feet.
Jesse glances inside the conveniently open living room window. Bark Lee's lying on the couch with his head on his front paws. Buck and Billy Ray sit at the kitchen table playing cards. Jesse leans inside the window and shouts, "Yo!"
Bark Lee lifts his head. When he sees Jesse, he hops off of the couch and scampers to the window. Jesse reaches down to scratch him behind the ears. "Hey buddy."
"Aaron!" Buck greets him as he turns the music down. "You need somethin'?"
"Yeah, actually. You know people are tryin' to sleep, right?" Are the neighbors just as blasé about this as Saul? "Maybe you could, y'know, not play your music super loud at, like, whatever-the-fuck o'clock in the morning?"
"Did we wake ya?"
Jesse just glares. He's amazed the whole block isn't standing here with him. Ridiculous.
"Well, since you're up already, why don't you come on in?"
Jesse figures there's no harm in it, though he's still suspicious this is some sort of trick to get him inside. But whatever. Buck lets him in through the front door. Bark Lee's wagging his tail, watching Jesse make his way inside.
"We were just playing a couple rounds of poker. Care to join us?"
Jesse shakes his head. "Nah, that's cool. I was just, y'know, tryin' to sleep."
"Saul in there?"
"Yeah. But he's...deaf, I guess."
Billy Ray chuckles. "Didn't used to be."
That's comforting.
Billy Ray reaches into a cooler at his feet and pulls out a beer bottle that's sweaty with condensation. "Thirsty?"
Jesse doesn't want to be rude, so he wordlessly accepts the drink. Maybe it'll make him tired enough to sleep through the noise when they inevitably crank the music back up.
He sits in an empty chair at the table. The music playing in the background changes, and it's actually not a Rush song. Shock and surprise.
"So, you and Saul, huh?" Buck asks with an amused smirk.
"He told me you said somethin' to him about me."
"We might'a mentioned you were a little hot for teacher," Billy Ray says.
Jesse fights the wince that tries to form on his face at the phrasing. Because it wouldn't be the first time he had a life-ruining crush on a teacher. "You could tell?"
Buck snorts. "I'm amazed he couldn't! He's usually real perceptive."
Jesse feels his face go hot. So his crush was only obvious to everyone. No big deal or anything.
"Thought I'd accelerate the process, is all, on account of you bein' so shy."
Should he thank them? He's not sure what the protocol is here. Jesse twists open his beer bottle.
"You boys seem awful close for an ex-student and teacher," Buck says, like he's going somewhere with that.
Jesse rolls the bottle cap between his thumb and forefinger. "He, uh, he helped me out a lot back in the day. Like, y'know, a mentor or whatever." He bites his lips together. This whole cover story makes no sense. Even when he replaces Saul with Mr. White, there's still a shitload of holes, gaps in the reason they came together the way they did.
Nothing brings people together like a dark, horrible secret.
"He actually... He helped me work through some—some problems..." Jesse adds, because that makes more sense, right?
Buck reads loud and clear what Jesse's hinting at. "You get in with a bad crowd?"
"You could, uh, you could say that..." The back of his neck breaks out in a sweat. He takes a sip of beer to calm his nerves.
"Guess you owe him a lot, huh?"
Jesse blanches at the insinuation, that the fluttery twist in his gut when he looks at Saul is no more than the reminder of a debt to be paid. "It's not like that, dude. He's a great guy. And he ain't my teacher anymore."
"Didn't mean it that way, kid. You two seem happier than a sow in slop."
Jesse squints, because what? "Yeah, it's pretty great. I mean, it's kinda weird, but I can get used to weird." He takes another drink. It's odd how at ease he feels with these two. Or maybe it's just the booze loosening his inhibitions.
Billy Ray deals out a new hand of cards. "Y'all doin' anything for Halloween?"
Jesse shrugs. He hasn't given it much thought.
"I'm only askin' 'cause we'll be outta town, and we need somebody to watch the pup." Bark Lee trots up to the table as if on cue.
Jesse can't say no to that adorable puppy face. "Sure, I guess. I don't think we're doin' anything special. I'll make sure though." He rubs Bark Lee's head and asks, "How come you can't take him with you?"
"Poor feller gets carsick."
Bark Lee's ears droop like he's embarrassed about that.
"You do, huh?" Jesse asks the dog, petting him behind the ears. "Well, you can chill with us then. But no chocolate, alright?"
The dog might actually smile at him.
Saul comes home from work on Halloween to see the front yard decorated in playful, spooky décor. Plastic pumpkins with faces drawn on sit near the front door. A sheet ghost hangs from a nearby tree. Static clings of skeletons and witches and bats cover the living room window.
Is there a lawn-decorating contest going on that Saul's not aware of?
Inside the house is better, or worse, depending on how you look at it. Jesse and Bark Lee lounge together on the couch, watching a movie. A giant bowl of candy sits in the middle of the coffee table. Jesse's got the dog dressed up in a ridiculous costume that makes him look like a pumpkin. What's worse is Bark Lee doesn't even look ashamed to be wearing clothes. Most animals have a look of resigned indignation when they're forced to dress up, but not Bark Lee. He seems to enjoy being treated like a miniature, four-legged person.
"What have you done?" Saul asks, because that's a pretty appropriate question.
Jesse grins at him. "It's Halloween, yo. Get into the spirit of things."
Saul's not going to act like this isn't cute as hell. Even after everything he's been through, Jesse's still innocent enough to enjoy a holiday to its fullest. "You look like you got enough holiday cheer for the both of us." Saul heads for the stairs. "Have you been watching horror movies all day?"
"I'm sorry, is there something else you're s'posed to do on Halloween? You can't just not watch Army of Darkness when it's on."
That's a solid point.
Saul hurries through a shower so he can partake in movie-viewing with Jesse. By the time he gets downstairs, freshly-scrubbed in an old t-shirt and lounge pants, Jesse's catching Bark Lee up on the lore of Evil Dead. "So this dude's life sucks a big one, 'cause he went to this cabin in the woods with his homies and some crazy shit happened and they all died, 'cept for him. So now he's been transported to the past or some shit and he's gotta kill all these skeleton warrior dudes so he can go home."
"Spoilers!" Saul whines, dropping into the empty space beside Jesse.
Jesse gives him a sour look. "Dude, you've never seen Evil Dead?"
"I have, but he probably hasn't." Saul lays a hand over the dog's back and rubs his spine. He glances at the bowl on the table overflowing with sugary treats. "You expecting a lot of kids coming by?"
"Kids? Nah, this is for me," Jesse says with a straight face. Then a grin spreads on his lips, and it's one of the most beautiful things Saul's ever seen. "I'm just fuckin' with you, of course it's for the trick-or-treaters." Saul drapes his arm over the back of the couch, lets his hand dangle near Jesse's shoulder. "I made that mistake once. Never again."
"How old were you?" Saul has a feeling this was an embarrassingly recent occurrence.
"Old enough to know eatin' a big-ass bag of candy would fuck me up."
Saul huffs a laugh and lays his hand on Jesse's shoulder. Jesse cuddles closer as Bark Lee rests his head on Jesse's lap. It's adorably picturesque, in a sickeningly-sweet sort of way.
They spend the evening on the couch watching movies, then, when the flicks get "hella lame"—as Jesse called it—Saul grabs his phone and finds creepy stories that make Jesse laugh and squirm and clutch onto him in terror. Occasionally the doorbell rings, and Jesse rushes to answer with the bowl of treats, doling out candy to costumed trick-or-treaters.
Saul thinks he could totally get used to this kind of life, just himself and Jesse and maybe a dog of their own.
It's sure as hell not what Saul pictured all those months ago when he arrived here alone and detached from all the things and people that made him Saul Goodman. He'd figured a fresh start would help, though Nebraska wasn't on the top of his must-see list. If he'd had a choice, he'd be in California shmoozing with models and movie stars. But deep down he knows that wouldn't make him happy. He's shit at knowing what's good for him, as his three failed marriages have certainly demonstrated.
But this... This feels like something that could last and make his house a home filled with love and laughter.
It's about damn time, Saul thinks.
Later in the evening, after the flow of visitors has ebbed and the TV's shut off, Jesse leans against Saul's shoulder, calm and content. Bark Lee's snoozing in the recliner next to the couch. Saul slides a hand along the length of Jesse's arm. Jesse catches Saul's hand as it travels down his own and moves in to kiss his mouth. Jesse tastes like smooth sugar, and Saul wants to drink him down. Jesse shifts and lays his free hand on Saul's shoulder, moving so his knees straddle Saul's hips. Saul makes a gasping sound around the kiss, but he's not going to stop Jesse just yet. He wants to see how far this goes.
Jesse's mouth travels over Saul's jaw line, sucking bruises into the skin. Saul might moan a little, maybe that's something he does. Jesse smiles against his skin and lets his hand drift lower, fanning over Saul's chest. Jesse kisses like it's going somewhere, his hands eager and nimble as they travel downward. He's kissing Saul's mouth, lazy and languid, when he eases his fingers into the flap of Saul's pants.
Saul jumps at the touch, because Jesse's hands have never been this close to his cock before. His heart thumps in his chest, and Saul awaits Jesse's next move. Jesse tugs him out of his shorts and, oh my God, he's rubbing his thumb along the underside of Saul's dick, which isn't making it difficult to form words at all. Saul whimpers out something embarrassing when Jesse tweaks the head of his dick with his thumb.
Saul's totally fine with a handjob, really. Jesse's hands are new to his genitals, so he's interested in how they might feel around his dick, stroking and sliding. But Jesse seems to want something more, because he's kneeling at Saul's feet, and, oh fuck oh fuck, that's his mouth.
Saul sucks in a breath and rolls his hips into the warmth of Jesse's wet, eager mouth. Jesse makes a humming sound that Saul feels in his bones. Jesus, that's good. Jesse sucks cock like a true novice, sloppy and unpracticed, but it's so good and Saul can't focus on anything but this.
It's wrong, he knows, because Jesse's never made any sort of sexual advances on him, but now he's totally cool with blowing Saul? Nah, Saul's smart enough to see there's something else going on here, and as much as it pains him he has to stop.
"Jess..." Saul groans and pushes a hand over Jesse's prickly scalp, gently easing his head away. "I can't..."
There's a smear of pre-cum at the corner of Jesse's mouth. God fucking damn. "What, are you the one dude on the planet who doesn't like getting head?"
"N—no, that's not..." Saul tucks himself back into his pants, because, yeah, it's kind of hard to think when he's just...out there. "I don't know what happened to you, but this isn't something you have to do for me. You don't have any obligation to me—"
"You think I'm doin' this because of some shit that happened to me in there?"
Christ, it sounds fucking horrible said out loud. Saul keeps his mouth shut. He can't tell if Jesse is shocked, furious, or devastated. Maybe all three.
Jesse towers over him, fists clenched and shaking. "Like it wasn't bad enough that they beat the shit out of me, kept me a goddamn prisoner, and fucked up my face? No, they had to rape me too? What the fuck?"
Saul doesn't have an answer for that. Words have failed him tremendously tonight.
"Maybe I wanted to make you feel good 'cause I like you!" Jesse snaps, his blue eyes stormy with rage.
His knee-jerk defensive anger isn't particularly convincing Saul of Jesse's argument. Rather, it's sort of reinforcing Saul's original hypothesis, and, yes, he does feel immeasurably shitty about that, but how else is he supposed to take this? Why else would Jesse be so appalled at Saul's concern for him?
"Jesse, I'm sorry. I was just—" Saul can't think of an explanation that makes this okay. "It just seemed like you had more practice than you ought to... I mean, you skipped right past the handjobs, and suddenly you got my dick in your mouth. You can see how that might confuse a guy, right? Since you did say you were new to this whole dating-a-dude thing."
Saul's explanation doesn't ease the offense on Jesse's face. So maybe nothing happened in the compound. "Was it Walt?" Saul asks, because he's an idiot. "Did you two have some sort of arrangement going on? 'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'? That kind of thing?"
Saul really needs to just stop talking, because every word digs him a deeper grave. It's déjà vu in every way, except instead of a gun Jesse's armed with furious blue eyes and the ability to crush Saul's heart in his hand like a dried-up bird's nest. Saul kind of misses the days when the worst thing Jesse could do was shoot him.
"Are you fucking—What—I—" Jesse sputters out. "Are you seriously upset because you think your dick isn't the first one I've had in my mouth? Is that what this is?"
"What? No! Jesse, I—"
But Jesse doesn't let him finish. He storms off, growls, "You're such a fucking idiot," before disappearing up the staircase. Saul tries to form an apology, but it gets caught in his throat.
Saul is the absolute worst. He's firing everyone in charge of his life forever.
Bark Lee raises his eyes and stares at Saul as if to say, "Nice negotiating, dumbass." Saul frowns at him. "Don't judge me."
Bark Lee whimpers and settles his head on his front paws, gazing off sadly like Saul's the cause of all his misery.
Saul doesn't go after Jesse, because he figures letting the kid sleep on this ought to do him some good. Maybe he'll realize Saul only had the best intentions behind his colossally stupid behavior. Yes, Saul's well aware of the old adage about good intentions, but this relationship with Jesse is like navigating a minefield. He doesn't know what's rigged to blow, so inevitably he fucks up and triggers a landmine.
Why is Saul not even the least bit surprised that he managed to screw up the best relationship he's ever had?