week 13 - probably monday

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[ So at some point on Monday, Jason and Luke both will be getting a chat request from Jack. This is probably unsurprising in itself, but when the video flickers on (since I'm assuming they have video by now sweats), the bright, pleased smile on his face may not be a surprise, but the pride in his expression just might be. He's still without his mask, and behind him is a rather quaint looking cottage, but. Enough about that. ]

Ohhh my god, you guys did great!

[ That's nothing short of glowing praise from Jack, who doesn't actually give it that easily, but. He does add on after a moment: ]

Right, uh. How ya feeling, guys? Getting stabbed kinda. Yeah, it pretty much sucks. But.

Comments

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Yeah, but it's not that one. We- I mean, shit, we've totally already been over this.

[ Jack sighs out in exasperation, because he absolutely remembers getting somewhat embarrassed over Rhys so blatantly pointing out his sentimentality. There's also an element of that sigh that's coming from how Rhys steps closer and lingers there, but that's more from the sort of sigh that comes with fondness, however twisted that may actually be.

Which, of course, Jack expresses in the only way that he knows how. Stupidly and aggressively. Jack listens with a partial scowl on his face, but before Rhys finishes, Jack shakes his head. The hand that Rhys isn't holding comes up to Rhys's face to pat him on the cheek a few times. It's almost the sort of gesture that you'd give someone to get them to wake up from a deep sleep, but it's just Jack being weird and physical... ]

Ah, ah, ah— [ His tone is almost warning with those syllables that go with each smack, but that's gone quickly as he continues. ]

Don't even start on that, pumpkin. Look, Liz can handle that. She's smart, don't worry about it. [ rhys was absolutely not worried about this, jack ] They're my team, but you're—

[ Okay, he still doesn't know what the fuck Rhys even is to him. Part of him knows that this is selfish and that this is just some kind of way for them to both have someone, something to cling to, but... It's not quite so simple that Jack's coldly divorced from feeling anything at all. So instead of trying to parse through that, he ignores it, as he has been every time that question comes up. That hand falls to rest on Rhys's shoulder, and he defaults back to the sort of nicknames (of a sort) that Jack tends to spout off without really thinking. ]

You're my guy. C'mon.

[jackhole]

[ there's a shrug here that basically means i know. yeah, yeah. he gets it but it came out anyway out of instinct. his... instinct to give jack shit all the time, obviously. but then of course jack is patting his face and rhys winces a little, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

he's talking about his team again and it makes that feeling swell up in rhys again, the reminder that he has nothing left -- that he is nothing. all he has here is jack and jack has... plenty. it's just confirmed, seeing him interact with his clique.

jack calls him his guy but it's easy to see the doubt in rhys' expression before he sighs wearily. he lets go of jack's hand to curl both of his hands in jack's shirt and pull him forward so he can... well. so he can kiss him, swiftly on the forehead. this is when the height difference between them really shows up more, honestly. when he lets go, he takes a step back, putting appropriate distance between the again before rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. ]

I know. Still can't be there so I'm... going to take a walk. I need some time to think, alright? And I'm no help anyway, none of them like me.

[ well, liz kind of does but he doesn't like her. it's weird. ]

An hour. Do your thing and then I'll be back, alright?