Chapter 25
The next week passes in a blur. Jackson had told Eddie and Hakeem he wouldn’t be going and saw the disappointment in their eyes, hidden behind sad smiles. They didn’t press, they didn’t push. All that was said was if he changed his mind to let them know.
Jackson helps Hakeem practice his waltz, under the scrutinizing eyes of Charlie.
It’s awkward and messy, their eyes can hardly hold each other’s gaze as they practice.
“At the risk of sounding petulant, shouldn’t Eddie be doing this, Charlie?
He is Hakeem’s date after all.” Jackson doesn’t mind helping.
In fact, he relishes every moment he can lead Hakeem in a dance across their living room.
If he won’t allow himself to go with them to the ball, this would be the next best thing.
Hakeem is pressed up to him, letting out an adorable squeak whenever he messes up, wrapping Jackson around his finger further.
“Eddie is busy when I’m free to help,” says Charlie, who appears as a slender person with pale skin today, hair cascading to just past their shoulders, wearing a tank top and yoga pants, “I find it easier to teach when I have two bodies to conduct and you just so happen to be available, Mr. Nocturne.”
“It’s just Jackson, please.”
“My apologies, now again. 1,2,3 and 1,2,3.”
Jackson leans in close as they practice, “Why didn’t you ask me or Eddie to teach you in the first place?” He whispers into Hakeem’s ear.
Hakeem looks up to him, eyes catching the light, “I wanted to impress you both. I didn’t want either of you to get sick of dancing with me before the ball.”
Jackson chokes on a sound of surprise, swallowing around a suddenly dry throat. There is no conceivable universe in which Jackson could respond to that without sounding completely and utterly enamored.
Jackson is doomed.
Hakeem’s innocent smile and genuine intentions will be his demise. Eddie’s boldness was too much to handle as it was, now this.
In the couple of sessions he had with his therapist, whom he had met with years prior, they had talked about taking risks.
Allowing himself small, arguably selfish, indulgences could help Jackson open himself up to a relationship.
One of those indulgences, that Jackson himself considered selfish in its own way, was to dance with Hakeem to help him practice.
He wanted this, at least, if he couldn’t bring himself to go to the ball.
They discussed coping techniques if he ever felt control slipping, something to help ground his mind and magic.
He had to admit that the most effective technique was imaging Eddie and Hakeem.
Hakeem’s voice became his logic and Eddie’s comfort became his tether.
The whole point was to not need them to feel like himself, when it turns out he couldn’t even get them out of his head.
His therapist insisted it was a good starting point, that these techniques could change and evolve over time.
There would come a time he wouldn’t rely on them so much, even if he had asked for their support after his nightmare.
Jackson just had to take this process one step at a time, and have faith he wouldn’t lose either man in the process.
“I could never get sick of you, Hakeem.” Jackson’s words are dangerous to say, it’s the closest he had gotten to saying how he truly felt. He relishes the relief in Hakeem’s eyes at hearing them, he could lose himself in their silvery shine for an eternity.
The ball is tomorrow evening. Eddie and Hakeem would get ready in the apartment before getting picked up by Eddie’s sister, Sarah.
The rest of Eddie’s family would meet them at the ball after going through the Portal Station, set up by the bureau as a waypoint between the magical and fey realms. Jackson’s family often relied on Jean-Claude’s magic for travel between realms, others used the station.
As the lesson comes to an end, the intercom buzzes by the door. Reluctantly releasing Hakeem from his arms, Jackson crosses the room in a few strides and answers the incoming call.
“Yes, Steven?”
“Mr. Nocturne, I have a special delivery for you at the desk.”
Oh fuck.
Jackson can take a guess at what was delivered. Before he had decided against attending-the reason sounding more like an excuse the more it echoed in his mind-he had done some…optimistic, online shopping.
Though, with the ball less than a day away, he supposes he should praise the speedy delivery. “Thank you, Steven. I will be down in a moment to collect.”
He turns to Charlie and Hakeem, who were chatting idly about the last couple of things they need before the ball. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Charlie waves him off with a smile, “Your help has been appreciated. I think we will cut lessons here. Come on, Hakeem, let’s try on your suit with the modifications and see if we can’t shape those curls.”
Hakeem nods, “Okay, we’ll be upstairs if you need us.” He waves to Jackson as he and Charlie head upstairs, and Jackson heads down to the lobby to retrieve his order.
Jackson exits the elevator and makes his way to Steven at the desk. Steven looks up as he walks up to him and gives a polite nod, “Good afternoon, Mr. Nocturne,” he pulls out a medium sized cardboard box from under the desk. “Here is your package.”
Jackson takes the box and stares at it intently. He hadn’t meant to order these, his heart acted before his mind could let his anxiety spiral. “Thank you, Steven. I had forgotten I had even ordered anything.” He laughs half-heartedly, gaze lingering on the box in his hands.
* * *
Steven’s magic sparks. It’s hard to ignore the thoughts flooding through Jackson’s mind, he doesn’t mean to pry.
He raises a well groomed gray eyebrow as Jackson turns to head back to the elevator.
Steven really shouldn’t, one mustn’t meddle in the affairs of the tenants.
He had known Jackson for countless years, during the time he spent in the Alexandria Heights building with Mrs. Lee, but that didn’t mean he should interject with his own opinions.
“Mr. Nocturne, might I speak freely for a moment?” Steven calls out after the elf, who turns where he stood, mildly surprised.
“Of course, Steven. Is everything alright?” Jackson’s brows furrow as he meets Steven’s gaze.
“Forgive me if this is out of line, I couldn’t help but sense the turmoil in your mind. My powers can be a blessing but can also prove to be a curse. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…your mind is screaming.”
* * *
Dammit. Jackson didn’t realize Steven could hear his thoughts.
Steven could detect a wandering mind, clouded with turmoil, far too easily.
The man didn’t even have to try. It wasn’t his fault and Jackson won’t hold it against him.
“No, of course you didn’t. I just have a lot on my mind.
” Jackson averts his gaze as though he’s a child being reprimanded by a parent.
Steven’s expression is soft, old eyes kind. “Might I offer a small piece of advice?”
“Say your piece, I won’t hold it against you.”
Steven picks up a framed photo from the desk, one of his partner Taylor and their children.
“When Taylor was ill, when we thought they wouldn’t make it to the birth of our first grandchild, I grew distant.
I had convinced myself it was easier to grieve the loss now than face the pain when they were truly gone.
I was so close to losing them, yet couldn’t bear the thought of being near them only to have my heart break when they passed.
” Jackson sees the man’s eyes grow damp, his own words trapped in his throat.
“I realized I was being foolish, there was no point in mourning a love that was still alive. I had taken time off work, to spend as much as I could with my Taylor, in case the worst came to pass. When the news came that they would make a full recovery, to live several years more together, I was thankful I hadn’t wasted my time pushing them away in my own fear. ”
Steven wipes his tears with a handkerchief he pulls from his jacket pocket.
Jackson is stunned by the story. He knows loss all too well, but wonders why Steven is telling him this now?
“Excuse me. The memory is still overwhelming to this day. My point, sir, is don’t let the fear of losing those you love, push them away. ”
That’s when it all clicks, why Steven had told Jackson that story.
Steven had learned more from his rampant thoughts than Jackson realized, is he truly that see through?
A bitter laugh escapes him as he shakes his head, “Funniest thing, someone had told me something quite similar earlier this week. Thank you, Steven, truly.”
Jackson’s therapist had told him something similar at the end of their last session. His file was old, though it seemed he was still dangerously similar to the broken boy that first met with them decades ago.
Steven bows his head as he returns to his seat behind the desk, “My pleasure, sir.”
As Jackson is about to head back upstairs, Eddie walks into the lobby.
He greets Steven with a smile and a wave before his attention lands on Jackson by the elevators.
“Well hello there,” he chuckles as he makes his way to Jackson’s side.
“Did some online shopping?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the box in the elf’s hands.
The elevator arrives as Jackson replies, both of them stepping in. “Yeah, I may have gotten you and Hakeem something for the ball.”
“Oh?” Eddie’s smile is wide, his eyes darting between Jackson and the package, “Do I get to see?”
Jackson gives him a coy smile and a side eye glance, “Not until we get home.”
Eddie hums as they arrive at their floor, “Oh, alright. Keep your secrets then.” As they step out of the elevator, Jackson grabs the end of Eddie’s leather biker jacket before he reaches their front door.