(Untitled)

[youwereameteor]

Jim hasn't left the hut. Reid's stuff's everywhere; ties draped over the back of a chair, shoes in the corner, a neat stack of notebooks on the desk. Maybe Reid never really decided to live there, but the evidence that he did is all over the place. Jim tries not to look at any of it. He lies in fresh sheets, the old ones stripped the night of

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[youwereameteor]

It's like he knocks all of the wind out of him. Suddenly, Jim can't breathe. He's too far away from the bed to sit down on it so he ends up on the floor with his back against the wall, looking up at Spencer and trying to fathom out everything that he's just said to him. You're you.

He knows all about Reid, knows about his Mom and his addiction, knows about his childhood and that guy and everything, but that still comes as a sucker punch. Childhood wasn't easy on Jim Kirk but he came through it with pretty much flying colours. The Academy was the same. His mother always said that he lived a charmed life. And Reid is a part of that, too.

"You make me feel so...incredibly lucky," he starts, voice low. "Every day, I feel that. Every day I wake up next to you, and you are beautiful and you are smarter than anybody else I know, and you're lying there in our bed and you're mine and I feel lucky. Because I get, like, a flicker of what my parents had. I get that with you. And I've got...no way of proving that to you other than telling you I love you again and last night, seeing you like that." He finally looks up at Reid, eyes damp and swallows hard. "It felt like having my heart ripped out and stepped on."

He shakes his head.

"I'm not letting you fuck this up. I'm not letting you force my hand like that. Stop putting words in my mouth. I. Fucking. Love. You. And I'm not going to stop loving you. Ever. You're mine, Spencer. And that's not changing because one or both of us fucked up. So stop. Now."

[percevalian]

In increments Reid crumples: First his face, then his torso and finally his legs, dropping him onto the bed where he hunches forward and cries, raw and open, shoulders shaking.

"I'm sorry," he manages. Sorry that he was drunk, sorry that he assumed, sorry that he was so stupid, sorry that he's not someone more worthy of the man who still wants to be with him against the odds.

[youwereameteor]

Jim doesn't entirely trust himself to stand right then, so he crawls, moves on all fours over to the edge of the bed. He tentatively moves to sit in front of Reid, hunkered back on his knees, and then, gently, he touches him, one hand on his knee, the other cradling the back of his head.

"Hey," he says, gently, leaning up to rest his forehead against Reid's. "Hey. Stop. I'm sorry too."

[percevalian]

When Reid slides from the bed to the floor, it places him practically in Jim's lap, skinny arms wrapped around Jim's shoulders and breath still shuddering as he tries to stop crying. "Why can't you just hate me?" he asks, voice weak and half-muffled in Jim's hair. That, at least, would be familiar; being loved so completely by someone is still new-Being loved by Jim is completely terrifying.

"I don't know how to be used to this," he admits, unable to look Jim in the eye as he pulls back.

[youwereameteor]

His arms go around Reid automatically, no hesitation or question, no matter what's happened. One hand smooths soothingly against Reid's back, his spine through his t-shirt. Reid pulls back and Jim's hand stays on his back. His other hand comes up to his chin, thumb stroking against his jaw.

"I can't imagine hating you," he says, gently. "Even this morning, I couldn't hate you." He shakes his head and presses a kiss against the tip of Reid's nose. "We're figuring this out as we go along, baby. It makes sense if we fuck up from time to time."

[percevalian]

"I love you," Reid exhales, finally looking Jim in the eye. It was easier to manage when they were both angry. Jim like this reminds him tangibly of his mother, who, in the moments when she wasn't completely victim to her illness, always gave Reid the best and most patient advice of his life.

"It was so wrong," he sighs, and drops his eyes again. "I don't want anyone but you touching me. I'm so sorry, Jim," he adds, face screwing up and so utterly ashamed of himself.

[youwereameteor]

"I love you too," he says, eyes fixed on Reid's face while he talks. It's difficult to get past the image of Reid getting fucked into a wall, but if Jim keeps his eyes on Reid's face, he can do it.

"It's okay," he says, quietly, and maybe it isn't, quite yet, but it will be. "I don't want anyone but you. Flirting or no flirting, you the only one I ever want in my bed."

[percevalian]

Jim has said as much before, if not in so many words, but this time Reid really listens, really takes the time to actually hear him. There are so many reasons why the two of them shouldn't work, but when he really stops and thinks about it objectively, what are they other than skin deep? It's true that aside from Jim, Reid has had virtually no experience with romantic relationships, but does that preclude the way Jim makes him feel or the way being apart from him is virtually unbearable even after eight months? And does Jim's reputation really hold water when they've been together all this time and Jim is fighting to keep them together even when given the perfect opportunity to end it?

Reid looks suddenly up again and peers back at Jim in wonderment. "I want to marry you," he says, almost like he can't believe it himself. Naturally, it doesn't occur to him that this might not be the most opportune time to ask.

[youwereameteor]

Jim blinks. For a long moment, he just looks at Reid, his mouth hanging slightly open. Of all of the things that he was expecting to come out of Reid's mouth right then, a suggestion of marriage was not what he was expecting.

He blinks again.

"Wait," he says, hands still on Reid, and he's smiling as he says it. "Five mintues ago, you were trying to get me to break up with you and now...you're proposing?"

[percevalian]

"Uh," Reid begins, faltering. "Yes?" he tries, uncertain. He hadn't intended to propose, but he supposes that's exactly what he did, isn't it? As far as he knows, it isn't terribly common for someone to mention to another person they want to marry them and it be taken as mere conversation.

"…it just seemed to make sense with what I was saying and what you were saying," he weakly adds, blushing.

[youwereameteor]

"It makes perfect sense," says Jim, looking surprised as he says it because, shit, it actually does. Marrying this person right here makes perfect sense to him. He's dizzy again; he can't even deal with how quickly everything keeps changing direction.

He leans in, almost hesitantly, and presses a kiss against Reid's flushed cheek.

"Let's get through this and talk about weddings tomorrow."

[percevalian]

What he'd been suggesting, what Jim is now agreeing to, fully hits Reid then, leaving him momentarily breathless. "Really?" he asks, ducking his head to look Jim properly in the eye. "You really want to marry me?" Reid saying that he wants to marry Jim isn't at all the same as Jim saying he wants to marry Reid, not to his mind.

[youwereameteor]

"I want to be with you forever," says Jim, looking him straight in the eye. "So, yes. I suppose we're getting married." He grins goofily. "Jesus fucking Christ, Spence."

This was never in Jim's plan for himself; he pretty much wasn't ever expecting to live long enough to get married but here he is, in this fucking place with this person right here, and he never expected to get this lucky, but here he is.

He draws in a jerky breath and then he leans in and he kisses Reid properly, tugging him in by the back of his neck.

[percevalian]

Already dizzy and breathless, Reid splays both hands against Jim's face, returning the kiss eagerly, like his desperation to be with this man is trying to claw its way through his skin. "I love you," he repeats when he pauses to gulp down a breath, and immediately resumes kissing Jim, the two of them a tangle of limbs on the floor.

[youwereameteor]

There's no real answer to that that isn't right there in the way Jim kisses him, the press of bodies and tangle of limbs. He's tugging Reid with him, sprawled out on the floor, rolling them so that he's on top, leaning down to kiss Reid, one knee pressed between his thighs.

He breaks the kiss, looking down at him.

"I fucking love you too," he murmurs.

[percevalian]

A whimper sounds at the back of Reid's throat, his hips instinctively rising to rock against Jim's thigh. One hand stays curved against Jim's jaw as the other slides to clasp against his ass, pulling him closer.

"I want you," Reid admits in a whisper, almost abashed, like it's eight months ago and he's still reeling from wanting a man this much. "Please," he adds, arching up to brush another kiss against Jim's mouth.