Babe. Come over here, have some pie and beer with me and watch the fireworks. <3
Pie? Beer? Fireworks, with his lover?
So he wasn’t technically American. Maybe he was the farthest thing from American. But… that didn’t mean he couldn’t celebrate with the klutzy Soldier in his life, right?
Jane doesn’t need to say it again. He’s over there, and he’s holding out one of Aldous’s cookies: fesh, warm, with a slight buttery taste. “We’ll eat these vhile we vatch.” He holds up a small box of them. Aww, his insufferable twin did care.
He leaned into the touch, shivered a little, pleasantly, at the feel of Abel’s fingers through his short hair. His eyes- Abel could see his eyes clearly. His guard was down. No- he had none. For his Medic, he had no defenses. A word, a smile, a touch from the younger Haswell melted them like a sugarcube in a rainstorm.
He could hurt Jane. He could hurt him so easily, so badly. But he never would and Jane knew it, sure as the moon shone at night and the sun in the daytime.
He leans down, forehead resting on Abel’s, a smile on his face.
A soft chuckle followed the response, along with a whispered reply of, “oh, my silly American.”
He wrapped his arms around the Soldier and hugged him then. He didn’t care who saw them, what Scout may be lurking somewhere just to stick out his tongue and comment how mushy he was for a guy. He didn’t care at all. Jane had a rough life. He had lived in an abusive situation and was suffering from it, still, to this day. And the Medic loved him. Loved him despite all his glitches. Because Jane deserved love. And Jane was the one who had melted his fearful heart in the first place. He spared Abel a fate that he would have dreaded. He would have become as cold as his twin, cold and stodgy and, well, generally unlikable. Filled with paranoia and distrust.
Jane had spared him of that fate, and he was forever grateful.