Author: Kat
Title: like coffee to my tongue
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Twilight 17 (Lunate).
Supplies and Materials: Glue (sinking into your current experience teaches you more than running off in search of the next great thing), glitter (All of Me), yarn (stargazing flowchart), feathers (Your character is roped into a road trip.), stain ("Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls." - Joseph Campbell), novelty beads (All of us get lost in the darkness, dreamers learn to steer by the stars. - Rush, The Pass), canvas
Word Count: 845
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack and Egg go stargazing.
Warnings: none
Notes: For SWL's prompt on my June 2014 Happy Queers meme, "Jack/Egg/Cigarette." Go thou and leave prompts. This story was written almost entirely to Vienna Teng songs, so, you know, if you need a mood.


Egg, it turned out, was the only one who could still get suckered by Jack's puppy dog eyes.

Not that it was such a hardship, in this particular case. They were in the long, hot doldrums of early summer, May and June, when school was exhausting and boring, classes bogging down in nitty-gritty details of their respective subjects while heat wavered off the asphalt outside. So when Jack plopped down beside him at lunch and asked if he wanted to cut, Egg only had to look at the hot blue sky to agree.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked, as they wandered out to the parking lot. Jack's pickup, polished and pretty as it was, stood out among a sea of Corvettes and Mercedes-Benz, and it was empty, unaccompanied.

Jack shrugged, and unlocked the car. "Not coming. Mari said it was too hot, SpenceandArnie have plans or some shit—"

Which meant they were going to fuck in the bathroom, probably, but Egg didn't bother saying so. "And Carmen?"

"Home sick," Jack said. "We can drive by her house if you want, but I don't think she'll want to come out."

Carmen's mother was a doctor, so if she stayed home sick, she was sick. "Probably not. So where're we going?" Egg swung up into the passenger's seat and put his feet up on the dashboard.

"Take your shoes off if you're going to that," Jack said. "I dunno. Maybe Joshua Tree. Sound good?"

It was like a six hour round trip and in the desert but maybe they could stop by Palm Springs instead, hit up a gay club or something before they drove back home. "Sounds good," he said, and took off his shoes.

Jack grinned up at him, smile white and toothy and a visceral punch of arousal. "Let's do this."

--

They didn't go to Palm Springs after all, just drove straight through, and found a half-visible trail to drive down. It was hot as balls in the desert, worse than Malibu, but drier and more bearable. Jack propped a tent up over the bed of the truck and they lay together, watched the sun track across the sky and set and passed cigarettes back and forth. Neither one of them smoked much, but it was kind of nice to watch the smoke curl up against the sky as the air cooled and the light died.

"You text your parents?" Egg asked, watching the last stripes of sunlight fade out over the mountains.

"Charlotte," Jack said. "She'll tell them. And she won't judge me either."

Egg thought about Charlotte, and admitted, "Yeah, she won't. How'd you get so lucky, sister like that?"

"Beats me," Jack said. He sighed happily and rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his folded arms. "'Course I've got Andy too, so it kinda balances out. You ever want siblings?"

"No," Egg said, positively. Hard enough being just him, with his cold parents and bored extended family. If he'd had a sibling to be just as cold to him, or worse, to pry into his shit... no, he was just fine on his own. There were some advantages to parents who didn't care if you didn't come home and didn't text. "I'm good."

"Yeah," Jack said, and sighed. "Sorry, that went to a sad place."

"It's cool." Egg looked back up at the stars. There were so many of them, out here away from the light pollution of the city, so many you could actually believe in the idea of trillions. "I'm not upset, actually. Couldn't be here like this otherwise."

Jack reached out and patted his knee. "Yeah. It's a good night."

--

They could've driven back to Palm Springs, checked into a hotel on Jack's fake ID, but it was more fun to stay out in the desert and watch the stars wheel overhead. If Egg was honest, he liked being out with just Jack, the same way he liked being out with just Carmen sometimes. There wasn't anything romantic between them, him and Jack or him and Carmen, but they loved each other nonetheless, heart-full and uncomplicated.

He kissed Jack around eleven, and they made out lazily for the next hour or so, cigarette taste smoky on their tongues. Around midnight the meteors started flashing against the sky; they watched them fall, bright streaks against the night. Egg glanced over at Jack once and saw his eyes tight shut, his mouth moving. Wish on a shooting star, he thought, and made a wish of his own—let every day be like this.

Around two he rolled over and said, "I love you," with all the bone-deep seriousness he could muster.

Jack looked at him, his brows creased, but whatever he saw in Egg's face made him break out into a grin. "I love you too."

"Cool," Egg said, and lit another cigarette.

They didn't talk much after that, if at all, but that was okay.

The stars spun lazily overhead, Jack breathed softly next to him, cigarette smoke burned in his nostrils, and Egg was content.