WHO: Serefin Meleski & Jacob Frye WHAT: Celebrating their anniversary and getting hit by the singing bug WHEN: October 25th WARNINGS: Sappy thanks to the song STATUS: Complete
The plane rattled in a way that probably would be alarming for someone who hadn't ridden an exploding train to its destruction. Jacob looked almost too comfortable swaying with the movement of the aircraft, hanging onto a metal triangle hanging from the ceiling. What wasn't particularly comfortable was the rigging for his parachute. He made a face and tried to shift where it was digging into his inner thigh as casually as possible.
It was a minor discomfort all in all. This was their second anniversary and that fact alone would keep him high on life for weeks. They were as close as ever and he felt so grateful it almost stung. It was possible though that they should've been celebrated closer to earth.
"You can still change your mind, just so we're clear." He sounded serious but there was a look in his eyes that hinted at the mischief underneath. He nudged against Serefin's side, talking loudly to be heard over the roar of the engine. "But our socks would be disappointed." He wiggled his foot for emphasis and the little sock hand flapped against the little sock hand on Serefin's ankle. Ridiculous really, but delightful.
"You are humoring me about changing my mind when we are already in the plane," Serefin said, not unkindly. So yes, climbing into a plane to promptly jump out of it was not the most sane idea either of them had decided to do, but neither of them were known for making smart decisions. Serefin was someone who tended to agree in the moment and then realize only after he was facing down gods, or monsters, or fulfilling a ridiculous dare that hindsight was 20/20. This was, perhaps, one of those times.
But it was the comfort of Jacob beside him—the comfort of Jacob always beside him—that made the dangerous stupid things all the more worthwhile. Regret was a distant thought. He twisted his ankle to make the socks hold hands once more. His surprise shoes, the ones where the sole was a pastrami sandwich, knocked at Jacob's feet.
"But I do not want to disappoint the socks," Serefin said louder, more confident, not a hint of backing down. "And I would not want to let you do something like this alone. If we are going down, we are going down together, literally—" The plane rattled in response as if to remind them how much they were hurtling through the air. "It is a brilliant story, though, I want to tell in the future. 'During Jacob and I's anniversary we jumped out of a plane, what did you do? Oh, just a dinner? Not very romantic.'"
Jacob grinned, shameless in his joy. How they'd gotten here was still a question that mystified him some days, but he felt anything less than grateful for it. He shuffled closer. His own feet bore equally ridiculous shoes - they looked like dead-eyed frogs with bright red lips flatly pressed together - and his sock's "hand" connected with Serefin's again.
"I do love setting a high bar for romance. Diego will no doubt try to beat it and that's just another level of celebration, isn't it?" He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Serefin's jaw and then talked closer to his ear so he wouldn't have to yell. "It might set an even higher bar for, you know…when -- if -- we decide to take this in front of a judge one day."
It's a dangerous topic to bring up, but he can't pretend it hasn't been on his mind ever since his sister announced her engagement. He just wants to put it out there. So that when they are ready, Serefin will know he's not going to spook and make a run for it.
"Do you think he could beat jumping out of a plane? We are, indeed, setting a high bar considering our current height above the ground," Serefin said, with a vague gesture of his hand toward the outside, which was now blue sky and scattered clouds. But his hand paused mid-air, and he turned his head to look at Jacob mentioning in front of a judge. His expression was unexpectedly curious, unsure of if he should jump to conclusions or keep his small bead of hope under control by pushing it back down.
Serefin returned the kiss in the same place underneath Jacob's jaw, and corrected with unfiltered ease, "When." And then he was nudging Jacob's foot again, to keep the mood from becoming too serious, too nerve-wracking. Despite the fact Serefin was desperate to poke at Jacob's thoughts. In Tranavia, he had resigned himself to something arranged and loveless, the fact that he had come this far was enough to make him believe in every wild fantasy he ever wanted.
"Baby, this love, I'll never let it die," Serefin said. Wait, no. Sang. Did he just sing? Serefin was not someone who had the vocal cords to pull off any type of singing, and his whole face scrunched up confused.
He tried to explain, to ask did I just do that? because there was a good chance he might have blacked out in terror on their ascent, but all that came out was more singing, "Can't be touched by no one, I'd like to see them try."
Jacob's smile was blinding and soft at the when, but it turned baffled as Serefin started to sing. Serefin was not a singer and this was something Jacob knew about him. He wasn't even sure he knew this song - and yet somehow the words felt ready on the tip of his own tongue. A laugh escaped him first as he shook his head.
"Cause you're the reason I believe in fate, you're my paradise…?" It came out as a question, but his singing voice was passable. Rough and warm, even through the confusion. He was tempted to cover his mouth to stop anything else from coming out, but he leaned over to kiss Serefin hard on the mouth instead. It didn't stop the next line from trickling free as soon as he pulled back. "And I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice."
Goddamn it, Vallo.
For a brief fleeting moment, Serefin thought that Jacob was humoring him. Whatever strange possession had come over him to sing—which was nicer than other possessions Serefin had been in contact with—was unwelcome. But if Jacob didn't seem worried, if Jacob was going to kiss him over his singing voice, then he wasn't going to complain, per se. He was going to avoid opening his mouth, though.
But the expression Jacob was giving him, one that looked as resolutely confused as his own, was enough to have Serefin go from mildly annoyed at his rotten luck to pleased. He liked Jacob's singing, generally speaking, and Serefin should have been more concerned. But, well.
"Oh darling, my soul, you know it aches for yours. You've been filling this hole—" Serefin sang and then immediately covered his own mouth. He did not know where the rest of that line was going, but he started to laugh, melodic, all the same. Again, not a singer, but it seemed Vallo did not care. He stood, throwing his arms open in front of Jacob, less concerned about the jostling of the plane. Blood and bone, was he about to make this a production now? "Because I love you for infinity."
Serefin opening his arms and turning his back to the open airplane door was concerning, even if it was still a fair few steps away. Or at least it should've been. But Jacob was caught up in the whatever this was and instead of pulling Serefin away from the jump spot, he danced them both closer to it, his hands on Serefin's hips and more of the song on his lips.
"Love isn't random, we are chosen. And we could wear the same crown." The worlds felt weirdly right, even if this whole thing was ridiculous. And somehow he knew he'd skipped some but the magic didn't care. It wanted something specific and personal from them. "Keep slowing your heart down," he sang. "We are the gods now." He caught a hand on the top of the open door, keep them inside. His laugh was a little freaked out but well, it hardly mattered. They had their parachutes on. And they'd done the whole lesson business. It was about time to pull the trigger anyway. Why not do it with a little bit of fanfare.
He leaned forward and kissed Serefin, humming the chorus close to his mouth now, let the wind snatch away the words. "'Cause I love you for infinity…"
It could have been worse. Serefin has spent so much of his life trying to convince himself of that when things were, categorically, terrible. But this? An inability to stop singing words that were painfully honest, with his boyfriend? Certainly there were worse ways to spend an anniversary. He wondered, idly, as they inched toward the open door, would he still scream? Would he scream in harmony?
He hummed a closing note, stealing one more kiss from Jacob. His hands roamed over all the buckles and carabiners and straps on Jacob's gear—for his own peace of mind, and as a subtle warning as they were counted off by their guides from the plane.
"See you on the ground, towy nóżczko," Serefin said. He had all of a second to realize that he didn't sing that, before he was unceremoniously throwing himself out of the plane, with enough wherewithal to watch Jacob follow immediately behind him. Serefin did, in fact, scream all the way down.