LJ Idol Season 9, Week 27: Open Topic (The Proposal)
Savin stood off to the side, his feet aching and eyelids drooping, unwilling to stay open. He watched as Jazz strode forward, hands half-balled into fists at his sides, chin raised in a display of confidence that seemed so unlike him, jaw set and eyes focused on the crowd in front.
The same crowd waiting for their newest Emperor to be crowned.
Emperor. The word tumbled around in Savin’s mind, trying to stick to something and finding that it had no grip. Jazz couldn’t possibly be the Emperor. They had known each other for almost a year now, dated almost as long, and the smart, goofy guy Savin knew as “Jazz,” just couldn’t be the Jasper Callahan, Emperor-to-Be.
Except he was. And today -- today it was all becoming official. Jazz would no longer be a mere member of the Emperor’s Council, a prestigious political position in its own right. No, he’d be the one in charge. Running everything. Constantly under the media’s spotlight, where they would scrutinize his every move, reading between lines that didn’t even exist.
Savin felt his throat tighten at the thought, and he stood up a little straighter. The Emperor’s Council -- Jazz’s Council, he corrected himself -- stood with him, each member stony-faced and reserved. Most of them were older than Savin himself; a couple of them were at least twice Jazz’s age, which was a strapping twenty-four. Jazz was the youngest Emperor in history, and --
And the first openly gay one.
Without thinking, Savin tugged on the knot of his tie and cleared his throat. A small speech was made, not by Jazz himself, but by the the most trusted member of his council, Mitchel Foraker. The older man perhaps had the most severe expression of all, envy and pride and something else all twisting under the lines of his face.
Savin didn’t hear a word of Mitchel’s speech. Instead, he replayed the night’s past surgeries and dragged a finger along the length of his thigh, replicating an incision he had made only hours ago on a patient. His boyfriend was becoming the Emperor. What did that make him, exactly? Was he even going to be able to continue his medical career? What about his desire for privacy? Would the media follow him around like they had significant others of the Emperors in the past?
These thoughts all cut short when Jazz’s voice rung out, loud and clear and impossibly confident. Savin’s fingers relaxed as Jazz continued to speak; he was too tired to comprehend the words, but the rhythm and power behind them affected him, all the same.
And then there was a pause. One that made Savin stand straighter, his fingers curling in on themselves as Jazz turned away from the podium and smiled. That same, soft and full smile Jazz often reserved just for him.
“I have another announcement to make,” Jazz said quietly, slipping his hand inside his pocket. “Actually, it’s more of a question...”
Savin felt every muscle in his body tense except for his jaw, which went slack as Jazz approached him with unnatural slowness and then lowered himself to one knee.
“Dr. Savin Bates,” Jazz began, his fingers fumbling with the small box trapped inside them, “will you marry me?”
“I --” Savin found it difficult to breathe, his mind on overdrive as he stared at the ring Jazz had presented him. “I --”
His gaze moved from the ring to Jazz’s face, eyes brimming with hope and expectation.
“-- can’t answer that -- not, not right now,” Savin stuttered, his own eyes filling with tears as he watched Jazz lower the ring box and his hopeful expression shatter.
***
“I can’t believe you,” Jazz hissed later that night, fingers tugging at the knot of his tie. He glared at Savin, blue eyes on fire as he paced the length of his private living room. “‘I can’t answer that’? Seriously? A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed!”
“I’m sorry,” Savin whispered, wincing. He looked away from Jazz, rubbing the back of his neck as he collapsed onto the younger man’s couch. “I just -- I panicked, alright? Here you are, being made Emperor, and then you turn around and ask me to marry you? It’s -- it’s a lot. I’m still wrapping my head around the ‘my boyfriend’s the Emperor,’ thing, and then you add this to the equation? How else was I supposed to respond? ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, yes?’”
“That was kind of the idea, yeah!” Jazz cried, stomping one foot against the ground. Tears filled his eyes as he raked his fingers through his hair, disturbing the perfect styling of it and causing it to stick up every which way. “God, the whole Empire must think I’m a fucking joke, embarrassing myself like that at my own coronation --”
“You didn’t embarrass yourself,” Savin murmured, frowning. He pushed himself off the couch and reached for Jazz, placing a light hand on Jazz’s arm.
“And how do you figure that?” Jazz spat, wrenching himself away from Savin and crossing his arms over his chest. “My boyfriend said no to marrying me, in front of the entire Empire -- in front of my Empire -- god, when I realized you were going to say no, I just -- I don’t even know how to describe it, Savin. I just don’t.”
Savin frowned and bit his lip. “I -- I wasn’t saying that I wouldn’t marry you, Jazz. It’s just -- I’ve been engaged before. It’s a huge commitment, and I --”
“And you what, Savin?” Jazz snapped, glowering at him. “Don’t think you can handle it? I already gathered that when you flat out refused to give me a fucking answer.”
“No,” Savin said, his frown deepening. “I was going to say that I needed some time to think. Look, I know you’re upset, but --”
“Of course I’m upset!” Jazz shrieked, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Why wouldn’t I be? The man I want to spend the rest of my life with might not feel the same way about me. What else am I supposed to feel right now?”
“Fair,” Savin said. He opened up his arms, gesturing for Jazz to move in close. Jazz glared at him again, but then snorted and grudgingly moved forward anyway, resting his forehead against Savin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Savin whispered again, wrapping his arms around Jazz tightly. “I love you. I can tell you that much, okay?”
“Okay,” Jazz sniffed, his whole body shaking as he wrapped his arms around Savin’s waist. “I love you, too.” He paused and pulled away from Savin, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “How much time do you think you need?” he asked, his eyes pleading.
“I don’t know.”
Jazz just closed his eyes and nodded, more tears rolling down his cheeks as he did so. “Alright.” He swallowed and moved out of Savin’s arms entirely. “The Imperial Guard’ll see you out -- and they’ll make sure the media doesn’t follow you home, okay? I know how much privacy means to you.”
Savin gave Jazz a brief smile, feeling his own eyes sting with tears. “Thanks,” he breathed, turning on his heel and leaving Jazz’s private living space without another word.
***
“I should smack you.”
Savin looked up from his chart, frowning as a short woman with long brown hair sidled up beside him, her face deathly serious. “Well hello to you too, Mari,” he murmured before returning to his chart.
“No, seriously. I should,” she insisted, tugging the chart from his fingers and invading his space. She had her hands on her hips, her white coat open and revealing dark blue scrubs underneath. “Didn’t you learn anything from when we were engaged?”
Savin chuckled humorlessly under his breath, snatching the chart back from Mari’s hands. His stomach twisted and he buried his nose in the paperwork, trying to mask the grimace that overtook his face. “Too much, if you ask me.”
“Like what?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “How to quit before even trying, maybe?”
“How it sometimes just doesn’t work, more like,” Savin corrected, continuing to avoid Mari’s eyes.
Mari snorted and shook her head. “If we weren’t at work right now...” she growled.
“I know,” Savin said, snapping the chart shut and heading toward his next patient’s room. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he walked. “I want to smack me, too, okay? Jazz is really upset and I don’t know how to convince him that it has nothing to do with him.”
“Uh huh,” Mari said, matching Savin’s lengthy strides with ease. She caught the arm of Savin’s surgical scrubs, tugging him to a stop. “I know that you have no need to do rounds right now, so stop trying to avoid me and talk to me about this. Maybe I can help.”
Savin swallowed his stomach down and hugged his chart to his chest. “I can’t really be seen talking to you, Mari -- what if the media finds out?”
Mari scrunched her nose and gave Savin a bewildered look. “What the hell does the media have to do with --” She cut herself off before sighing in exasperation and throwing up her hands. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s why you ‘couldn’t’ give him an answer?”
Savin blinked, furrowing his brow. “What are you getting at?” he asked, frowning.
“The media -- that’s what’s stopping you, isn’t it?”
Savin just continued to give her a confused look, his jaw tightening as she just scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you -- you don’t even know why you can’t just say yes to him?” she asked, dropping her voice low as a group of nurses passed them by. They whispered amongst themselves, each one of them in turn glancing at Savin as they walked.
Mari watched the group of nurses for a moment before moving in close to Savin again. “I’d spell it out for you, Savin, but this is something you have to figure out for yourself. You love him, right?”
“Yes,” Savin said, tightening his arms over his chart. “But he’s the Emperor now -- what if -- what if he changes? What if I change, if he and I get married? I don’t -- I don’t know if I could handle that.”
Mari’s expression changed, a sympathetic look crossing her face. “People change all the time, Savin,” she said with a sad smile. She then turned on her heel and placed her hands in her pockets as she walked away from him. “If you can’t handle that, then maybe you’re better off being single.”
***
Maybe you’re better off being single.
Those words haunted him for weeks, following him wherever he went. He and Jazz hardly saw one another; as the Emperor, the other man had a difficult schedule to keep, and Savin’s schedule wasn’t kind to them, either. In a way, Savin appreciated the time apart. It gave him more time to think.
Some nights, though, he had too much time to think. Like tonight. His hands couldn’t go long without something in them, and he must have flipped through several of his medical textbooks, his eyes skimming the pages but none of the words or images registering in his mind. Jazz had a speech tonight, his first real one as Emperor, and Savin had requested off for it. So that he could be there.
Except he wasn’t even sure if Jazz wanted him there. He hadn’t asked Savin to come, like he’d done with his coronation. No, this time he mentioned the speech with an offhand comment in the middle of dinner, gave Savin an odd look, and then changed the subject as if he hadn’t said anything at all.
It was supposed to start within the next couple of hours. Savin hadn’t so much as left his favorite armchair despite knowing that time was running short. Should he even go? Jazz hadn’t asked. Would he have to stand off to the side with the Council, like he had before?
Savin shook his head and pushed himself out of his chair. He’d go take a shower. He’d get dressed. He’d go to the Palace, and hopefully they’d let him in. Except he didn’t get that far, the doorbell ringing just as he began to head towards the bathroom. He stopped, brow furrowing as he turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
“Emperor Callahan requests your presence at the Palace,” a severe woman with her hands clasped behind her back said as he opened the door. The Director of the Imperial Guard, Savin realized. The new one Jazz had appointed within the past couple of weeks.
Savin blinked, then gave the woman a sheepish smile. “I was just about to get ready for that -- do I have to go now, or...?”
“The Emperor wishes to see you before his speech, Dr. Bates,” she said, her expression unrelenting. “I suggest you dress quickly, so that the two of you will have some time to speak.”
Savin nodded and opened the door wider. “I’ll be about ten minutes,” he said, gesturing for her to come inside. Her lips tightened. “Five minutes,” he amended as he began to make his way towards his bedroom.
It took him somewhere halfway between five and ten minutes, his fingers looping the knot of his tie just as Amelia -- he had finally remembered her name -- escorted him to a sleek black vehicle just outside of his apartment building. Savin’s stomach clenched as he sat down inside it, his nails digging into the fabric of his pants.
“Did Jazz say what he wanted to see me for?” Savin asked. His question was met with silence, and he huffed as he leaned back against the seat. Of course he wouldn’t get an answer. He glanced around the car, studying the faces of various members of the Guard.
Savin frowned and folded his hands together in his lap. He licked his lips, which had gone dry in the past few minutes. They arrived at the Palace quickly, and Amelia continued to lead him through the Palace, to Jazz’s private living space hidden deep inside its walls.
This would be his life, he realized, if he married Jazz. Escorts likely everywhere, not being able to walk down the street without being recognized. Risking an invasion of privacy wherever he went. Living in the Palace, never having a private space to call his own.
Amelia knocked on Jazz’s door for him before giving Savin a respectful nod of her head and walking away. Savin breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes closing briefly before the door swung open, revealing Jazz standing in front of him, his expression serious.
“You okay?” Savin asked, furrowing his brow.
Jazz shook his head. He didn’t say anything as he moved aside, letting Savin inside his apartment. He held up two ties. “Which one?” he asked, giving Savin a pleading look.
Savin blinked, glancing at the two ties which were almost the exact same shade of blue. “Does it really matter which one...?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I have had my opinion asked on every single little thing for the past three fucking weeks and I just can’t do it anymore, so -- which one?” Jazz croaked, frustration evident on his face. “I literally cannot handle another decision, right now.”
Savin glanced at the ties again before taking them both from Jazz’s hands. He held each one up, and frowned in concentration. “This one,” he said, picking the lighter of the two ties. “It’ll bring out your eyes better,” he continued, offering Jazz an understanding smile as he looped the tie around Jazz’s neck. He pressed a light kiss to Jazz’s forehead as he did so.
“Thank you,” Jazz breathed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as his fingers worked furiously to knot his tie. He took a step back and studied Savin, his brow bunching together. “Your tie is crooked --”
“Let it be crooked,” Savin said, shaking his head and pulling Jazz’s fingers away from his own tie. He held Jazz’s hands in his and gave them a soft squeeze. “You’re nervous.”
“It’s going to bug me,” Jazz insisted, pouting as he wrenched his fingers away from Savin’s and began fixing the other man’s tie, anyway.
Savin just snorted, shaking his head as Jazz finished up the knot. He wrapped his arms around Jazz and hugged him, a slight smile continuing to grace his lips. “Breathe, Jasper,” he murmured in Jazz’s ear. “You’re going to do great out there, okay? You were made for this.”
Jazz tensed at the use of his full name, then relaxed in Savin’s arms. “I don’t know about that,” he muttered wryly, gripping the front of Savin’s suit as he buried his head in the crook of Savin’s neck. “Is it too late for me to back out of becoming Emperor?”
Savin laughed and tightened his arms around Jazz. “Unfortunately, yes,” he answered. He gently pushed Jazz away from him and lifted Jazz’s chin, so that their eyes met. “I mean, do you really want Mitchel running the Empire?”
That brought a ghost of a smile to Jazz’s lips, his eyes tearing up slightly. “Fuck no,” he snorted, a quiet chuckle escaping him. He relaxed further and breathed out slowly. “Thanks,” he whispered, smoothing out Savin’s tie. “I really needed the laugh.”
“You’re welcome,” Savin said, cupping the side of Jazz’s face and brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “You could have sent Amelia to come get me sooner, you know.”
Jazz blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t --” He cut himself off and shook his head, a smile returning to his lips. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”
Savin smiled back. “I love you, too,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips against Jazz’s. He let the kiss linger, and Jazz just pulled him closer in response. Just as Savin moved to deepen it, a knock sounded on the door. “Damnit,” he muttered against Jazz’s lips.
Jazz just laughed before patting Savin on the shoulder. “We don’t really have time for that, anyway,” he said with a playful smile. He moved away from Savin and headed towards the door, opening it swiftly. “I’m ready,” he said, grinning at Amelia. “Savin and I were just talking.”
Amelia nodded. “Good. I will escort you both to the Palace Steps, so that you can begin your Address, Emperor Callahan,” she said. She glanced between Jazz and Savin, a small smile gracing her lips as she turned on her heel and began marching down the hall. “I should warn you both that a question and answer session is expected after an Emperor’s Address,” she continued, turning her head slightly as she spoke. “And that they will be curious whether Emperor Callahan has received an answer.”
Jazz and Savin glanced at one another, and Savin winced while Jazz rubbed the back of his neck. Neither one of them had anything to say, though Savin felt his stomach twist at the thought of Jazz having to relive that moment again and again.
Without thinking, Savin wrapped an arm around Jazz’s waist as they walked down the halls. “Are you going to be okay if I still don’t have one?” Savin asked, keeping his voice low as they passed members of the Palace staff.
Jazz turned to him again and gave him a brief smile. “You don’t need to give me an answer at all,” he said, his voice equally low.
Savin blinked, his mouth half-open with a potential response before Amelia came to a sudden stop at the front of the Palace. “Emperor Callahan, it’s been requested that we direct Dr. Bates elsewhere. If you two need another moment to speak, I suggest you do so now.”
Jazz nodded. “Can Savin and I have a moment alone, then?” he asked, facing Savin. He reached for Savin’s hands and gave them a slight squeeze. Amelia didn’t say anything in response, just slipped away and blended into the background of bodies nearby.
“I don’t need to answer you?” Savin asked, regaining his sense of composure. His eyebrows bunched together. “Why?”
Jazz squeezed his fingers again before moving in closer, sliding his hands up Savin’s chest and gently adjusting Savin’s suit jacket. “I shouldn’t have even asked,” he said quietly, a sad smile gracing his lips as his eyes didn’t quite meet Savin’s. “I should have considered how much of a private person you are before proposing in front of a crowd like that, but I didn’t.” He met Savin’s gaze, biting his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
Savin’s eyes stung, and he gave Jazz a slight smile in return. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have froze up like that.”
“I shouldn’t have expected anything different, really,” Jazz said with a shrug of his shoulders. Amelia gestured to her wrist, the action suggesting he hadn’t much time. He leaned upwards, pressing his lips to Savin’s. “Wish me luck?” he asked as he pulled away.
“Good luck,” Savin said, watching as Jazz turned away from him and closed his eyes. The younger man then squared his shoulders and released a breath slowly.
Jazz had never looked more natural in front of a podium. And Savin?
He had never felt more in love with Jazz, than he had right then.
Alicia grew tired of the general melancholy of her nonfiction pieces and decided to write something happy, instead. By the way, Savin does eventually answer him. ;)
The same crowd waiting for their newest Emperor to be crowned.
Emperor. The word tumbled around in Savin’s mind, trying to stick to something and finding that it had no grip. Jazz couldn’t possibly be the Emperor. They had known each other for almost a year now, dated almost as long, and the smart, goofy guy Savin knew as “Jazz,” just couldn’t be the Jasper Callahan, Emperor-to-Be.
Except he was. And today -- today it was all becoming official. Jazz would no longer be a mere member of the Emperor’s Council, a prestigious political position in its own right. No, he’d be the one in charge. Running everything. Constantly under the media’s spotlight, where they would scrutinize his every move, reading between lines that didn’t even exist.
Savin felt his throat tighten at the thought, and he stood up a little straighter. The Emperor’s Council -- Jazz’s Council, he corrected himself -- stood with him, each member stony-faced and reserved. Most of them were older than Savin himself; a couple of them were at least twice Jazz’s age, which was a strapping twenty-four. Jazz was the youngest Emperor in history, and --
And the first openly gay one.
Without thinking, Savin tugged on the knot of his tie and cleared his throat. A small speech was made, not by Jazz himself, but by the the most trusted member of his council, Mitchel Foraker. The older man perhaps had the most severe expression of all, envy and pride and something else all twisting under the lines of his face.
Savin didn’t hear a word of Mitchel’s speech. Instead, he replayed the night’s past surgeries and dragged a finger along the length of his thigh, replicating an incision he had made only hours ago on a patient. His boyfriend was becoming the Emperor. What did that make him, exactly? Was he even going to be able to continue his medical career? What about his desire for privacy? Would the media follow him around like they had significant others of the Emperors in the past?
These thoughts all cut short when Jazz’s voice rung out, loud and clear and impossibly confident. Savin’s fingers relaxed as Jazz continued to speak; he was too tired to comprehend the words, but the rhythm and power behind them affected him, all the same.
And then there was a pause. One that made Savin stand straighter, his fingers curling in on themselves as Jazz turned away from the podium and smiled. That same, soft and full smile Jazz often reserved just for him.
“I have another announcement to make,” Jazz said quietly, slipping his hand inside his pocket. “Actually, it’s more of a question...”
Savin felt every muscle in his body tense except for his jaw, which went slack as Jazz approached him with unnatural slowness and then lowered himself to one knee.
“Dr. Savin Bates,” Jazz began, his fingers fumbling with the small box trapped inside them, “will you marry me?”
“I --” Savin found it difficult to breathe, his mind on overdrive as he stared at the ring Jazz had presented him. “I --”
His gaze moved from the ring to Jazz’s face, eyes brimming with hope and expectation.
“-- can’t answer that -- not, not right now,” Savin stuttered, his own eyes filling with tears as he watched Jazz lower the ring box and his hopeful expression shatter.
***
“I can’t believe you,” Jazz hissed later that night, fingers tugging at the knot of his tie. He glared at Savin, blue eyes on fire as he paced the length of his private living room. “‘I can’t answer that’? Seriously? A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed!”
“I’m sorry,” Savin whispered, wincing. He looked away from Jazz, rubbing the back of his neck as he collapsed onto the younger man’s couch. “I just -- I panicked, alright? Here you are, being made Emperor, and then you turn around and ask me to marry you? It’s -- it’s a lot. I’m still wrapping my head around the ‘my boyfriend’s the Emperor,’ thing, and then you add this to the equation? How else was I supposed to respond? ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, yes?’”
“That was kind of the idea, yeah!” Jazz cried, stomping one foot against the ground. Tears filled his eyes as he raked his fingers through his hair, disturbing the perfect styling of it and causing it to stick up every which way. “God, the whole Empire must think I’m a fucking joke, embarrassing myself like that at my own coronation --”
“You didn’t embarrass yourself,” Savin murmured, frowning. He pushed himself off the couch and reached for Jazz, placing a light hand on Jazz’s arm.
“And how do you figure that?” Jazz spat, wrenching himself away from Savin and crossing his arms over his chest. “My boyfriend said no to marrying me, in front of the entire Empire -- in front of my Empire -- god, when I realized you were going to say no, I just -- I don’t even know how to describe it, Savin. I just don’t.”
Savin frowned and bit his lip. “I -- I wasn’t saying that I wouldn’t marry you, Jazz. It’s just -- I’ve been engaged before. It’s a huge commitment, and I --”
“And you what, Savin?” Jazz snapped, glowering at him. “Don’t think you can handle it? I already gathered that when you flat out refused to give me a fucking answer.”
“No,” Savin said, his frown deepening. “I was going to say that I needed some time to think. Look, I know you’re upset, but --”
“Of course I’m upset!” Jazz shrieked, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Why wouldn’t I be? The man I want to spend the rest of my life with might not feel the same way about me. What else am I supposed to feel right now?”
“Fair,” Savin said. He opened up his arms, gesturing for Jazz to move in close. Jazz glared at him again, but then snorted and grudgingly moved forward anyway, resting his forehead against Savin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Savin whispered again, wrapping his arms around Jazz tightly. “I love you. I can tell you that much, okay?”
“Okay,” Jazz sniffed, his whole body shaking as he wrapped his arms around Savin’s waist. “I love you, too.” He paused and pulled away from Savin, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “How much time do you think you need?” he asked, his eyes pleading.
“I don’t know.”
Jazz just closed his eyes and nodded, more tears rolling down his cheeks as he did so. “Alright.” He swallowed and moved out of Savin’s arms entirely. “The Imperial Guard’ll see you out -- and they’ll make sure the media doesn’t follow you home, okay? I know how much privacy means to you.”
Savin gave Jazz a brief smile, feeling his own eyes sting with tears. “Thanks,” he breathed, turning on his heel and leaving Jazz’s private living space without another word.
***
“I should smack you.”
Savin looked up from his chart, frowning as a short woman with long brown hair sidled up beside him, her face deathly serious. “Well hello to you too, Mari,” he murmured before returning to his chart.
“No, seriously. I should,” she insisted, tugging the chart from his fingers and invading his space. She had her hands on her hips, her white coat open and revealing dark blue scrubs underneath. “Didn’t you learn anything from when we were engaged?”
Savin chuckled humorlessly under his breath, snatching the chart back from Mari’s hands. His stomach twisted and he buried his nose in the paperwork, trying to mask the grimace that overtook his face. “Too much, if you ask me.”
“Like what?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “How to quit before even trying, maybe?”
“How it sometimes just doesn’t work, more like,” Savin corrected, continuing to avoid Mari’s eyes.
Mari snorted and shook her head. “If we weren’t at work right now...” she growled.
“I know,” Savin said, snapping the chart shut and heading toward his next patient’s room. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he walked. “I want to smack me, too, okay? Jazz is really upset and I don’t know how to convince him that it has nothing to do with him.”
“Uh huh,” Mari said, matching Savin’s lengthy strides with ease. She caught the arm of Savin’s surgical scrubs, tugging him to a stop. “I know that you have no need to do rounds right now, so stop trying to avoid me and talk to me about this. Maybe I can help.”
Savin swallowed his stomach down and hugged his chart to his chest. “I can’t really be seen talking to you, Mari -- what if the media finds out?”
Mari scrunched her nose and gave Savin a bewildered look. “What the hell does the media have to do with --” She cut herself off before sighing in exasperation and throwing up her hands. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s why you ‘couldn’t’ give him an answer?”
Savin blinked, furrowing his brow. “What are you getting at?” he asked, frowning.
“The media -- that’s what’s stopping you, isn’t it?”
Savin just continued to give her a confused look, his jaw tightening as she just scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you -- you don’t even know why you can’t just say yes to him?” she asked, dropping her voice low as a group of nurses passed them by. They whispered amongst themselves, each one of them in turn glancing at Savin as they walked.
Mari watched the group of nurses for a moment before moving in close to Savin again. “I’d spell it out for you, Savin, but this is something you have to figure out for yourself. You love him, right?”
“Yes,” Savin said, tightening his arms over his chart. “But he’s the Emperor now -- what if -- what if he changes? What if I change, if he and I get married? I don’t -- I don’t know if I could handle that.”
Mari’s expression changed, a sympathetic look crossing her face. “People change all the time, Savin,” she said with a sad smile. She then turned on her heel and placed her hands in her pockets as she walked away from him. “If you can’t handle that, then maybe you’re better off being single.”
***
Maybe you’re better off being single.
Those words haunted him for weeks, following him wherever he went. He and Jazz hardly saw one another; as the Emperor, the other man had a difficult schedule to keep, and Savin’s schedule wasn’t kind to them, either. In a way, Savin appreciated the time apart. It gave him more time to think.
Some nights, though, he had too much time to think. Like tonight. His hands couldn’t go long without something in them, and he must have flipped through several of his medical textbooks, his eyes skimming the pages but none of the words or images registering in his mind. Jazz had a speech tonight, his first real one as Emperor, and Savin had requested off for it. So that he could be there.
Except he wasn’t even sure if Jazz wanted him there. He hadn’t asked Savin to come, like he’d done with his coronation. No, this time he mentioned the speech with an offhand comment in the middle of dinner, gave Savin an odd look, and then changed the subject as if he hadn’t said anything at all.
It was supposed to start within the next couple of hours. Savin hadn’t so much as left his favorite armchair despite knowing that time was running short. Should he even go? Jazz hadn’t asked. Would he have to stand off to the side with the Council, like he had before?
Savin shook his head and pushed himself out of his chair. He’d go take a shower. He’d get dressed. He’d go to the Palace, and hopefully they’d let him in. Except he didn’t get that far, the doorbell ringing just as he began to head towards the bathroom. He stopped, brow furrowing as he turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
“Emperor Callahan requests your presence at the Palace,” a severe woman with her hands clasped behind her back said as he opened the door. The Director of the Imperial Guard, Savin realized. The new one Jazz had appointed within the past couple of weeks.
Savin blinked, then gave the woman a sheepish smile. “I was just about to get ready for that -- do I have to go now, or...?”
“The Emperor wishes to see you before his speech, Dr. Bates,” she said, her expression unrelenting. “I suggest you dress quickly, so that the two of you will have some time to speak.”
Savin nodded and opened the door wider. “I’ll be about ten minutes,” he said, gesturing for her to come inside. Her lips tightened. “Five minutes,” he amended as he began to make his way towards his bedroom.
It took him somewhere halfway between five and ten minutes, his fingers looping the knot of his tie just as Amelia -- he had finally remembered her name -- escorted him to a sleek black vehicle just outside of his apartment building. Savin’s stomach clenched as he sat down inside it, his nails digging into the fabric of his pants.
“Did Jazz say what he wanted to see me for?” Savin asked. His question was met with silence, and he huffed as he leaned back against the seat. Of course he wouldn’t get an answer. He glanced around the car, studying the faces of various members of the Guard.
Savin frowned and folded his hands together in his lap. He licked his lips, which had gone dry in the past few minutes. They arrived at the Palace quickly, and Amelia continued to lead him through the Palace, to Jazz’s private living space hidden deep inside its walls.
This would be his life, he realized, if he married Jazz. Escorts likely everywhere, not being able to walk down the street without being recognized. Risking an invasion of privacy wherever he went. Living in the Palace, never having a private space to call his own.
Amelia knocked on Jazz’s door for him before giving Savin a respectful nod of her head and walking away. Savin breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes closing briefly before the door swung open, revealing Jazz standing in front of him, his expression serious.
“You okay?” Savin asked, furrowing his brow.
Jazz shook his head. He didn’t say anything as he moved aside, letting Savin inside his apartment. He held up two ties. “Which one?” he asked, giving Savin a pleading look.
Savin blinked, glancing at the two ties which were almost the exact same shade of blue. “Does it really matter which one...?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I have had my opinion asked on every single little thing for the past three fucking weeks and I just can’t do it anymore, so -- which one?” Jazz croaked, frustration evident on his face. “I literally cannot handle another decision, right now.”
Savin glanced at the ties again before taking them both from Jazz’s hands. He held each one up, and frowned in concentration. “This one,” he said, picking the lighter of the two ties. “It’ll bring out your eyes better,” he continued, offering Jazz an understanding smile as he looped the tie around Jazz’s neck. He pressed a light kiss to Jazz’s forehead as he did so.
“Thank you,” Jazz breathed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as his fingers worked furiously to knot his tie. He took a step back and studied Savin, his brow bunching together. “Your tie is crooked --”
“Let it be crooked,” Savin said, shaking his head and pulling Jazz’s fingers away from his own tie. He held Jazz’s hands in his and gave them a soft squeeze. “You’re nervous.”
“It’s going to bug me,” Jazz insisted, pouting as he wrenched his fingers away from Savin’s and began fixing the other man’s tie, anyway.
Savin just snorted, shaking his head as Jazz finished up the knot. He wrapped his arms around Jazz and hugged him, a slight smile continuing to grace his lips. “Breathe, Jasper,” he murmured in Jazz’s ear. “You’re going to do great out there, okay? You were made for this.”
Jazz tensed at the use of his full name, then relaxed in Savin’s arms. “I don’t know about that,” he muttered wryly, gripping the front of Savin’s suit as he buried his head in the crook of Savin’s neck. “Is it too late for me to back out of becoming Emperor?”
Savin laughed and tightened his arms around Jazz. “Unfortunately, yes,” he answered. He gently pushed Jazz away from him and lifted Jazz’s chin, so that their eyes met. “I mean, do you really want Mitchel running the Empire?”
That brought a ghost of a smile to Jazz’s lips, his eyes tearing up slightly. “Fuck no,” he snorted, a quiet chuckle escaping him. He relaxed further and breathed out slowly. “Thanks,” he whispered, smoothing out Savin’s tie. “I really needed the laugh.”
“You’re welcome,” Savin said, cupping the side of Jazz’s face and brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “You could have sent Amelia to come get me sooner, you know.”
Jazz blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t --” He cut himself off and shook his head, a smile returning to his lips. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”
Savin smiled back. “I love you, too,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips against Jazz’s. He let the kiss linger, and Jazz just pulled him closer in response. Just as Savin moved to deepen it, a knock sounded on the door. “Damnit,” he muttered against Jazz’s lips.
Jazz just laughed before patting Savin on the shoulder. “We don’t really have time for that, anyway,” he said with a playful smile. He moved away from Savin and headed towards the door, opening it swiftly. “I’m ready,” he said, grinning at Amelia. “Savin and I were just talking.”
Amelia nodded. “Good. I will escort you both to the Palace Steps, so that you can begin your Address, Emperor Callahan,” she said. She glanced between Jazz and Savin, a small smile gracing her lips as she turned on her heel and began marching down the hall. “I should warn you both that a question and answer session is expected after an Emperor’s Address,” she continued, turning her head slightly as she spoke. “And that they will be curious whether Emperor Callahan has received an answer.”
Jazz and Savin glanced at one another, and Savin winced while Jazz rubbed the back of his neck. Neither one of them had anything to say, though Savin felt his stomach twist at the thought of Jazz having to relive that moment again and again.
Without thinking, Savin wrapped an arm around Jazz’s waist as they walked down the halls. “Are you going to be okay if I still don’t have one?” Savin asked, keeping his voice low as they passed members of the Palace staff.
Jazz turned to him again and gave him a brief smile. “You don’t need to give me an answer at all,” he said, his voice equally low.
Savin blinked, his mouth half-open with a potential response before Amelia came to a sudden stop at the front of the Palace. “Emperor Callahan, it’s been requested that we direct Dr. Bates elsewhere. If you two need another moment to speak, I suggest you do so now.”
Jazz nodded. “Can Savin and I have a moment alone, then?” he asked, facing Savin. He reached for Savin’s hands and gave them a slight squeeze. Amelia didn’t say anything in response, just slipped away and blended into the background of bodies nearby.
“I don’t need to answer you?” Savin asked, regaining his sense of composure. His eyebrows bunched together. “Why?”
Jazz squeezed his fingers again before moving in closer, sliding his hands up Savin’s chest and gently adjusting Savin’s suit jacket. “I shouldn’t have even asked,” he said quietly, a sad smile gracing his lips as his eyes didn’t quite meet Savin’s. “I should have considered how much of a private person you are before proposing in front of a crowd like that, but I didn’t.” He met Savin’s gaze, biting his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
Savin’s eyes stung, and he gave Jazz a slight smile in return. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have froze up like that.”
“I shouldn’t have expected anything different, really,” Jazz said with a shrug of his shoulders. Amelia gestured to her wrist, the action suggesting he hadn’t much time. He leaned upwards, pressing his lips to Savin’s. “Wish me luck?” he asked as he pulled away.
“Good luck,” Savin said, watching as Jazz turned away from him and closed his eyes. The younger man then squared his shoulders and released a breath slowly.
Jazz had never looked more natural in front of a podium. And Savin?
He had never felt more in love with Jazz, than he had right then.
Alicia grew tired of the general melancholy of her nonfiction pieces and decided to write something happy, instead. By the way, Savin does eventually answer him. ;)