Flirt-Javey

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This is overwhelmingly accurate.

Flirty!Davey is my life, especially with Jack. I love it like a baby plant, I nurture it.

WARNING: blood (nose bleed), gay panic
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Jack enjoyed coming home, placing his backpack by the door and leaving his shoes arranged near the wall. He'd shed himself of his coat and placed it on the coat hanger, more than excited to see his boyfriend. Today was different, however.

Davey wasn't home. He wasn't anywhere in the apartment. Jack even checked outside, the last place he would be, to see if he decided to read a book, but the taller brunette wasn't there.

After deciding to call it a day and call the police tomorrow, the front door opened, scaring Jack out of his socks. "Jesus- Davey!"

"Hey", the other man smiled, closing the door quickly. He grinned cheerfully, obviously concealing some exciting news. Jack couldn't focus too well on that, however, seeing as something else caught his eye.

Davey was shirtless.

The taller man would argue that there wasn't much to look at—he had a small pudge where he believed abs should go, and his barely there biceps weren't doing him much justice—but Jack loved his body. He adored it, worshipped it, and saw Davey as the perfect human being. But this? This made it better.

Jack swallowed nervously, staring at his boyfriend's arm as he licked his lips. "What, what's that?"

Davey raised a brow before looking at his arm, seeing the covered image. "That's what I was going to tell you! I got tattoos."

Jack blinked, trying to seem as natural as possible as he stared at the younger's bicep, practically drooling. There was the image of a car with no drawn wheels, the words "I Got The Old Man's Car" over the hood of it. It was obviously a Billy Joel reference, and it was just as much cute as it was attractive. Jack wiped his lips.

"Do you like it?"

Jack loved it. He wouldn't say he had a thing for people with tattoos—his friends would, and it was part of the reason Davey got it in the first place—but he always found body art interesting. He liked to stare at it, no matter how crazy it was, and it lead to a fluttery feeling in his heart.

Breaking from his trance and missing the smirk on Davey's face, Jack tapped his thigh in an embarrassed manner, swallowing. "Yeah! Yeah, it's, um, it's nice."

Davey quickly turned his smirk to a grin, watching as Jack stood up slowly. He gasped when he remembered the other tattoo he got, placing his arm down and showing his chest. "Look."

There was writing on Davey's left pectoral, and as Jack got closer he felt himself melt, his legs becoming wobbly as he held onto the arm of the couch for stability. It was his name.

Jack, in writing, in a tattoo, was on Davey's skin, virtually forever.

Davey raised a brow at his boyfriend's not-so-weird behavior before walking past him with a shrug, leaving Jack mid-panic. The shorter boy took many deep breaths as he stared at the floor, trying to calm down.

My God, I'm so gay.

——————

Most weekends, Davey could be found reading in bed. He's usually this comfortable before the afternoon, after breakfast time. He'd put his glasses on and focus on the words of the page, getting lost in the story and finding himself in another land.

At this time, Jack would be painting in the kitchen or molding clay outside, for as minimal of a mess as possible. He'd have all of his paints and tools next to him, like a companion. However, and unlike most days, he forgot to grab Spring Green on his way out.

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