It seems the stranger's always you [hattercrow]

alone, again

"I want to see your face,"

It had been months since they first met and Jonathan would be lying if he said he hadn't expected that question. It was so like Jervis to ask- but he couldn't blame him. Not entirely. He supposed it was out of the ordinary to wait nearly a year to show your friend your face. But it wasn't that easy. Jonathan, the man beneath the Scarecrow was just that. A man. Weak, scared, unlovable and insignificant. He was nothing without his mask. The Scarecrow made him, completed him- it made him strong, made him who he was truly meant to be. He showed people that side of him, the true side of him, and it scared them. It frightened them. And that was ok, because if Jonathan ever showed anyone the man beneath it, the roles would quickly reverse. People would see that he wasn't any better than the rest of them. That he was just another man stuck in the looney bin.

And he just couldn't have that. But here was Jervis, asking, when he knew this all too well. He had waited until after rec time to ask. When they were back in Jervis' cell. They had been sharing one for weeks after Jonathan accidentally exploded his bathroom. (It was a failed experiment that he was deeply ashamed of- not for having to share a cell but for failing in the first place. He realized only a day or two after the incident that he had messed up the equation by a singular decimal. He had written y(x)= 5 + 6.5 x 7 when it had really been y(x)= 5.1 + 6.5 x 7) Their embarrassingly close proximity meant that Tetch was even more nosey about Jonathan's mask- making a few comments about it every so often or asking him if he ever took it off (Which he did, just not around Jervis. Especially Jervis.). But this was the first time he ever asked him to actually take it off. 

Or not so much as ask, more of stating that he wanted to see his face. Which, In Jonathan's opinion, was a far too intimate way to word it. But maybe he was just reading to far into things.

He stumbled back, from where they sat on Jervis' bed, clutching the bottom of the rucksack mask in his hands. "Why do you want me to take it off?" He gritted out, trying not to explode with anger- for how dare Jervis even suggest a thing like that. Knowing what he knew, how could that thought ever cross his mind?

The other man sat back, a small not-smile but not-quite-frown played across his face. As if beckoning Jonathan to move closer. "As I said, I wish to see your face," 

Jonathan was not comforted by this statement. It was far to vague, Jervis was hiding something. Not lying, but Jon could see in the way he spoke, the way he bit back his words, their was more to it. He felt a dulled anger, Jervis would ask him to show the most vulnerable part of himself- and not tell the truth as to why he was asking in the first place? 

"What else?" Jonathan pressed. His hands dropped to his sides, but he didn't move from where he stood across Jervis' bed.

Jervis looked at him, through the mask, past the make-up, to him. It would've made anyone else shiver with fear. But not Jonathan, he stared back. He knew Jervis wouldn't dare hypnotize him- he wouldn't have the guts. Jervis knew that if he did, Jon would never speak to him again. Might even kill him. Neither would risk it. Jervis' stare asked him a question, 'Are you sure you want to go further?' And Jon returned it with an answer, 'Yes,'

Jervis was the first to look away, his gaze dropping to his shoes, words tumbling out of his mouth, "I'm in love with you," 

Jon couldn't move. That wasn't what he was expecting. At first he thought it was more of Jervis' tricks, but looking at the wilted man in front of him, Jon doubted it. 

"What?"

"I'm in love with you," He repeated, throwing his hands up theatrically. That not-smile burned into his face. He looked at Jonathan as if scared he would run. But he did no such thing, instead moving closer, so that he was knelt right in front of Jervis. He lifted his mask, just slightly, so it fell on his nose-

And kissed him.

It was short. Could've been considered a peck by anyone else's standards- but not by Jonathan's. Jervis stared at him, mouth agape, shocked to have received such direct affection. Scared that if he moved the spell would be broken. Jonathan stared back, analyzing his every movement until he was sure it was the right thing to do. He lifted his mask, all the way off his head, brown hair spilling onto his shoulders. Skin cold without the rucksack to protect him. He felt vulnerable and scared and-

"You're beautiful, Jonathan," Jervis whispered, cupping his face in his hands. Looking over every detail, every dent and scratch and acne scar apparent on Jon's face. But he no longer felt scared, he felt safe. In a way he didn't expect. The way Jervis looked at him, held him, was with so much care and love- Jon couldn't explain it. But he did the best he could.

"I love you, too,"