Disclaimer: I do not own American Idiot.
A/N: FINALLY.
This boy is everything to me. I've memorized the shape of his face, the gentle curl of his hair, the small gap between his teeth, and his eyes, oh God, his eyes. They're so brown and rich and deep. I could stare in them for hours and not get bored. There's always something new hiding behind them, but it's also so familiar. He loves me and I see it every time I look at him, even when he doesn't say it. He doesn't need to say it, but he does, all the time. I find myself saying it more than anything else, to the point that I wonder if he's getting sick of me, but I love him so much I don't care enough to stop.
His voice is so uniquely his, and when he says my name I find myself wondering if it isn't even mine, because it sounds too perfect coming from his lips. He can make the most boring words sound extraordinary. We talk for hours and never run out of things to say. It's like a dream.
I moved home with him. That wasn't the plan. Originally, I was just going to visit, and go back to work, but I couldn't. Being with him was everything and I couldn't live without it. I got a job at the Jingletown hospital, and Tunny began working in an office. He throws so much of himself into what he does that you'd think it was the best job he's ever had. He's so happy and content with everything in his life, and I am too. I'm with the love of my life, my soulmate, the only person I could every possibly need, and I'm never going to leave.
His friends are exactly what I imagined; they're nothing like Tunny, but they compliment him. Johnny is an asshole, but Tunny loves it. Will is always making him laugh. Tunny treats Will's son like family. I'm trying my best to fit into his world, and it's happening almost effortlessly. Johnny and I may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but his friends treat me like I've been around forever, and I can tell how happy it makes Tunny feel.
Right now, I'm in bed with him, but he's fallen asleep, for the second time tonight. He has nightmares pretty frequently, and tonight was no different. I warmed up a glass of milk for him, but he didn't drink it all. He never does. Then, we talked about it as I held him, rubbing his back, until he fell asleep in my arms. The lamp is still on but I can't bring myself to move and flip it off. Now I'm just watching him, fascinated by the way his chest rises and falls as he's asleep. I wish I could take the dreams away completely, but at least I can help him cope.
I kiss his forehead and whisper that I love him for what feels like the fiftieth time today. Finally, I fall asleep in his arms, and that night, I dream of our first kiss. I hope his dreams ended up as peaceful as mine, but I don't ask.
This boy is the first thing I wake up to every morning. Sometimes, he's still asleep when I open my eyes, and others, he's awake, watching me the way that I watch him. Today, his smile widens as my eyes slowly blink open, meeting his. He kisses me immediately, but it's too quick, as always. I could kiss him for hours and it still wouldn't feel quite like enough.
"Good morning, beautiful." He says, and I kiss him again once he's done talking. "Can I make you breakfast?"
I grin, sitting up and getting out of bed. I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Tunny stands beside me doing the same, and we grin each time our eyes meet in the mirror. I don't think I'll ever stop getting butterflies when he looks at me.
"Let's skip work today," I offer. Part of me is joking, but the other part is deadly serious. "I just want to be with you all day."
Tunny's eyes widen slightly at the suggestion. "I can call in sick right now," He offers without missing a beat.
So, we both do. We each promise it's just this once, and won't ever happen again, because we'd do this every day if we could. As blissful as it may be, we do need money.
Tunny makes breakfast while I read the paper, which is dull, as it almost always is. When we first came home, they printed a story about Tunny and me on the front page, which proves how slow things are in Jingletown.
When Tunny finishes, we eat, holding hands as we do. I almost can't handle how cute we are. He plays with my fingers, taking a drink of coffee, as his eyes scan the paper. His phone rings, and he lifts it quickly.
"It's your mom." He says before he answers it in a bright voice, and I grin. Tunny and my mom love each other. More often than not, she calls looking for me and ends up talking to Tunny for more up to an hour.
I watch him, waiting for him to hand the phone to me, but after five or so minutes, he hands up. "Your mom just wanted to remind you she's coming to visit next weekend." He says, and I smile.
Tunny and I grew up a few hours apart, which is probably the most amazing thing about us. We lived hours apart but met thousands of miles away from our homes. I can't believe how perfect we are. I kiss his hand, nodding. "I love you," I say, for the first time of many today.
That night, while Tunny and I are out at a bar with Will and Johnny, I trace my fingers over the "WASTED" tattoo on his forearm. He's watching my fingers for a few minutes before he finally starts to speak.
"I was thinking about getting another tattoo." He says, and I look up at him.
"Of what?" I ask, moving my hand down to hold his.
"Just… 'Jillian.' On my arm, maybe. Or my chest… But I really want everyone to be able to see it." He says timidly, and I feel myself momentarily speechless.
I don't have a single tattoo, but Tunny has several. He loves them, he loves expressing his body, making it his own. I've always wanted a tattoo, but I never knew what to get. Except, lately, I've been considering something, but I've been too nervous to bring it up to Tunny.
"Are you sure?" I ask quickly. "I mean, it'll be on you forever."
"Well, we're forever." He responds.
I lean in and kiss him, softly, sweetly, and as always, not for as long as I'd like to.
I watch a tattoo artist write my name on Tunny's arm. He clenches his teeth and breathes in quickly, but he's so strong. I know that Tunny only gets tattoos when something important happens, and it feels so good that I'm so important to him.
When he's finished, I kiss his cheek, and tell him that I want to get one, too.
Dan Anthony Clarke. This boy, who is everything, now marks a place on my shoulder. He kisses above the tattoo, when we get home, and my eyes water. He tells me he loves me and I start to cry, because I'm just so Goddamn crying. Before I know it, he's crying too, and he pulls me into a hug. We wipe each other's eyes and I kiss him gently, but it intensifies quickly.
He leads me towards the bed and I push him down on it, and move to hold myself above him. I deepen the kiss quickly and run my fingers through his curly hair, wrapping it around my fingers. His hands rest on my waist, gripping it. We kiss in a steady rhythm, pulling away every so often just to breathe. I push his shirt up and he moves away to pull it off, then reaches to help me with mine. I pause, looking him over.
He's so beautiful, I don't know if I'll ever believe he's real. I could almost start crying again. I kiss his chest, then his collarbone, his neck, his jaw, and finally his lips, taking it more slowly this time. He kisses back lovingly, running a hand through my hair.
"I love you," He mumbles against my lips. I say it back with a grin as he unbuttons my jeans.
I've lost count of how many times the words have left my lips today.