I know I have not been around to tell you so, but the little things you do. The little things you say. They're oh-so-beautiful, in every little way. For the days are long, and arduous, and I spend my days and nights, up in the studio. But something is always missing. The light has gone out from the windows, and the stars do not shine. But with you, my dear, everything is much brighter. I can see, I can feel, I can love. All because of Hawaii. Thank you, Phil.
"I do love you, too, Bart." He held Bart’s hands and drew the taller man awkwardly into his lap. Light peck. "Thank you for the poem, luv. You always were creative with words."
Jaek’s prominent nose pressed into Bart’s cheek. One of his hands idly caressed his fiance’s back, and the other squeezed beautifully shaped thigh. “Of course, if you peered up from your canvas every now and then, you would find me in a chair nearby, reading.”
" When I say, ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a person. "
—Rebecca Rand Kirshner
Tardivo Pianificazione Prematrimoniale (Belated Prenuptial Planning)
They had always spoken lightly about the matter. Discussing their dress, where they would go for their honeymoon.. mostly what would happen during the honeymoon, but Jaek had realized - and perhaps for this reason, alongside terrible nervousness, had been avoiding it - that he and Bart had not set out any specific details.
Oh, Jaek knew it would be an intimate, simple wedding. Shorter than most. But he still knew there were things which needed sorting out. And the wedding was on the horizon: November 5th. There wasn’t much time left to get things together before they would end up having a haphazard fiasco on their hands. (Not that Jaek would mind much. He and Bart would be together, and that’s what counted. .. Still, though.)
So, he gathered up his portfolio, mostly containing sample photos of flowers, decorations, food, and drink; and the agent arrived at Bart’s studio door, gingerly rapping as he popped his head into the room to hopefully catch a glimpse of his intended.
Coffee House Hunt
Phil took in the brisk east coast air in a long breath, a small smile played on his lips. The agent could make himself feel comfortable anywhere in the world at the drop of a hat, but he felt the most at home anywhere on the east coast of the United States. Maybe it was because he had been born here, or maybe it was something else. He’d never thought too deeply about it, afraid that the magical feeling would dissipate some if he tried.
Why was he standing outside this cool autumn day?
Because he had a date.
Yes, Phil Coulson had a date - with his husband: Loki.
Although Loki had been fired from Starbucks, they still purchased from the business every now and again. However, Phil felt as though they should find somewhere more intimate than the crowded, overpriced stores. He had suggested that they find a shoppe which suited both him and Loki where they could retreat and call their own regular date place as a change from their typically unpredictable life. A place for breaks that both of them needed from time to time.
Another breath, and he patiently waited for Loki to join him in front of their apartment.
With Stark robotic reversion technology, you’ll be able to do just that.
"I love you, Bart! And I believe in you.
I believe you are capable of being whatever you want whenever you want.
Because you are clever, brilliant, wonderful, sexy, and resourceful.
Take care of yourself, luv, and always remember I'm here for you and I'm here to
The words themselves made him tremble, remembering those days where he was buried so deep in his work that he ignored the actions.
The laughter rang all too clear in his ears, tears already staining his face despite his efforts to keep them at bay.
"I love you! I love you! I love you!"
All he felt now was a veil of guilt and weight fall down on him, the choked sobs and hot tears coming faster than he expected.
The laughter was gone. The aura, the life, in his husband had gone somewhere else.
And he couldn’t help it.
He’d heard the sob just when the door had closed, and Jaek looked up to see Bart. Crying.
Jaek’s heart froze, “Oh, Bart.”
No matter what, Jaek wasn’t going to leave Bart to be alone. And struggling through the fog and bramble of his own depression, Jaek forced himself to move. Jaek wasn’t sure why he was crying. Hell, the agent couldn’t read minds(yet…), but Bart needed to be comforted. Without missing a beat, the agent had rushed over, wrapped one arm around the other’s back. Fingers slipped into his hair to bring the prince down into a firm, intimate hold.
"Bart, luv. It’s alright.." Yet the older man knew from experience that the only way to feel better was for the tears to continue. "Let it all out."
The sight itself made Jaek cry just a bit, too. He wiped their tears away, pecking Bart’s lips, then bringing him into a deep kiss, and stroking his hair, once more to hug him again upon the break.
Rocking and caressing Bart, Jaek composed himself to whistle out a few bird calls and in zoomed a tray and a chair, both sturdy looking, hovering above the ground. Jaek sat Bart in the chair. Then they were soon in the kitchen where Jaek immediately filled the tray with some bottles of water, a bowl of warmed water with a washcloth soaking, and a few balms. Quickly afterward, they were in the living room. The comfortable chair touched down on the ground, thrusters built in sleekly on the sides of the armrests steadying it so as not to singe the ground.
Jaek picked Bart up and sat him in his lap.
"When you’re done crying, you drink up some water to replenish what you lost. But until then, just let it out. I’m not going anywhere." He wiped the tears away with his engraved handkerchief. "There’s that beautiful face." He tried to laugh, giving as big a smile as he could in hopes Bart would feel better.
And so he sat with Bart, still rocking, still caressing, humming and singing calm tunes until the tears stopped. He pressed the warm, soaked washcloth to Bart’s face, cleaning it and he handed over tissues, applying some natural cream to Bart’s head so the oncoming after-tears headache wouldn’t pain him. Jaek fussed, like he always fussed, and held Bart, until he was better.
It seems that Tom’s habit of sitting wide legged has been good for this amazing photoshopper! They call it the Tower of Hiddlebel (translated from portuguese)
" …I’m someone who’s mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be. "