diary ♕ jarbyn

eleven

☆

corbyn's bags are packed and ready, and he has a plane ticket in his back pocket. now all he has to do is sneak past jack's room without waking him and leave. he won't leave jack a note, won't even tell jack he's gone. jack might not even notice.

corbyn clambers down the stairs with the elegance of a dung beetle in a jar of honey and shrugs off his backpack, padding into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before he sets off on his journey. he stops dead in his tracks as he reaches the door, however – jack's in there, scribbling frantically on a piece of paper.

"jack?" corbyn says, confused – jack's fully-dressed and it's six a.m. – and jack got startled, almost hitting himself in the eye with the pen. corbyn bites his cheek to suppress a grin.
"corbyn?" jack says incredulously. "what are you doing up?" corbyn sighs.
"leaving," he says quietly. he might as well come clean – he won't be in jack's hair much longer. "what are you doing?"
"leaving," jack says in disbelief, and the pen drops out of his hand and onto the floor with a clatter.
"why?" corbyn asks in amazement. What the hell is jack playing at?

"because...you won't want me here, not after reading...that. it'll make things awkward."
"what do you mean?" corbyn still doesn't understand. jack sighs, rolling his eyes, and it's almost like old times again.
"i mean, now that you know i'm in love with you, you won't want me here."

"why wouldn't i- wait, hang on. you're in love with me?" surely corbyn misheard that.
"you read the entry, corbyn, i know you did," jack says quietly, avoiding corbyn's gaze.
"i didn't believe it." jack lifts his head at that.
"why not?" he asks.
"because, well." corbyn shrugs. "it seemed too good to be true."

"i don't understand..." jack says slowly, and corbyn takes the opportunity to roll his eyes and sigh dramatically at jack. jack scowls at him – corbyn's stock response.
"i...i'm in love with you too?" corbyn phrases it as a question, almost as if he was still scared of rejection. even though jack has just admitted he's in love with corbyn.

"you- wait, you what?"
"we're so stupid," corbyn giggles, the hysteric euphoria starting to settle in.
"you- me? me? you?" jack still looks shocked.
"close your mouth, jack," corbyn chastises. "the goldfish look doesn't suit you."
"oh, ha ha," jack says sarcastically. "at least I'm not the one with the same number of brain cells as a goldfish."
"watch who you're calling stupid, tunnel-mouth," corbyn shoots back, and jack scowls at him. it just makes corbyn want to kiss him even more.

"go on, then," jack says, and corbyn's confused.
"go on what?" he asks.
"kiss me, you idiot."

corbyn crosses the room in two strides, lips crashing onto jack's as soon as he can get close enough to tug jack into his arms. jack's lips are warm and soft against his own, jack's body toned and perfect in his arms.
he feels light-headed, light-bodied, as if he were invincible. and he thinks that with jack by his side, he might just be.

☆
wc; 538