I think you should probably hug me right now

[Jack Ripley]

A nap did Jack some good. With the nap, the vestiges of damage done by the wine were completely gone. He woke feeling oddly... free. No nightmares clung to him like cobwebs, no sense of dread. He almost forgot that he'd cried on his first date with Brayden. And then he remembered and part of him wanted to sink through the bed and die.

It helped that he woke up curled up beside Brayden. He had really taken the whole going to bed alone thing pretty hard for a while. Bringing home anybody that caught his eye... going home with anybody that caught his eye. Just to have somebody to sleep with, somebody to wake up next to, never mind whether or not they gave two shits about him. Half the time, Jack admittedly gave few shits about them.

Dinner was a simple enough affair. Jack cooked up a meal for the two of them and they talked, some of the things were the regular topics: work, observations about the neighbor kids, jokes about how their last card game went and how it might fare better next time. They touched upon the family thing. Not very deeply but it was out there now and it was cautious going but... Jack tentatively talked about his mother's addictions and then the women who ended up becoming his real role models, the reason he became a professor in the first place.

It felt... good. It felt normal. For once in his life, he wasn't putting on a big show and he hadn't realized just how exhausting it really was to hold onto all of that for so long. It was a relief to be able to share some of his life with somebody. For as long as he could remember, he held it so close to his chest that it strangled him. Almost nightly, he was plagued by nightmares, some from his childhood, some from the consequences of that childhood. One day, he thought, he would be able to share everything and he hoped... that it wouldn't crush Brayden with the weight that threatened to kill Jack all this time.

But he was in a much better place, after dinner, as he slid his arms into a thicker coat than the one he'd worn on their date. He still took care with his appearance. It didn't matter if it was just the two of them up there on that ridge. Jack still had to look good. His clothing, while more practical for their hike up the ridge, was still fanciful. But Jack was still Jack. Even if he wore the clothes like armor, he liked them.

He filled a bag with various items to take up with them, like a blanket and a thermos of Brayden's soup, and... He almost added a flask of alcohol but decided against it, setting it on the counter beside the variety of glass bottles instead. Slipping the bag's strap over his shoulder, he ushered Brayden out the door with him.

"Come on, the uber's waiting!" Jack was actually excited for this. He'd never been up hiking on the ridge before but Brayden made it sound wonderful.

[Brayden Smith]

Bray had never taken a nap this close to bedtime before, as his tightly regulated life revolved around a certain routine. Usually he didn't nap after 1pm to avoid being too awake to sleep later. Being with Jack broke that wide open; he found himself collapsing into bed with his lover late in the afternoon and slipping his arms around him, protectively drawing him close. With Bray's arms around him, Jack's sleep seemed less turbulent. He woke up once or twice and blearily checked on Jack but if he had any nightmares, they weren't half as violent as the ones Bray had experienced.

Reassured that Jack was fine, Bray finally fell asleep and he didn't wake up until he was shaken awake. He sat bolt upright muttering something about fairy wine, which probably didn't make any sense to Jack. Not a nightmare that involved him, just something he heard. Hunters. Trophy hunters. Making wine from fairies. The absolute savagery of that really shook Bray to the core, so it clung to his unconscious mind as well.

His bad dreams were easily shaken off, though, and he was fine by the time he splashed some water on his face and went out to help Jack with dinner. 'Help' meant handing him things and being allowed to chop some onions. Hey, Bray was good with onions--didn't cry, never cried. His chicken soup had lots of onions in it too, so he had grown used to the sting.

But he may or may not have teased Jack about the whole... crying on the first date thing. Even if Bray himself also cried at points, moved to tears by Jack's stories about his past.

They were mushy, no getting around that! Bray didn't mind it, though; he was taught by his parents that emotions were good things, and that crying was a release for the torments of the soul. Wise words, he thought, so he was never ashamed to shed a tear on behalf of someone else. (But never for himself; he didn't go in for self-pity.)

After dinner, he popped around to his own place to grab a jacket and paused by his own couch. Bray smiled as he pulled the fleece blanket off of it, thinking that an extra layer of comfort never hurt. With it folded neatly under his arm, he hurried back to Jack's place in time to see him packing up the soup and also eyed him as his hand inched toward a flask of alcohol. Bray didn't say anything but maybe the hopeful look on his face helped to dissuade Jack--hopeful that he didn't feel the need to turn to his old friends when he had perfectly good new friends. Like card games. And scarring small children in the park with PDAs.

"Don't forget your keys!" Bray cautioned on the way out, now hyper-aware of keys ever since locking himself out. He flashed Jack a knowing grin, though--Jack forgot his keys too. As they bundled themselves into the car, Bray glanced outside at the night sky; it was a clear and beautiful night and stars were already beginning to shine through. Good! He nestled up against Jack's side as they rolled away, and chattered about constellations and told a story about how he managed to get himself un-lost one time by navigating using the stars the way his father taught him.

"...but you can't imagine how much trouble I was in when I got home, at four in the morning!" he sighed as they got out, and as he turned to the trail leading up to the summit of Eagle Ridge. It wasn't a long or difficult hike from here, though; the uber took them quite close. Bray slid his hand into Jack's and started up the winding trail, mindful that there were creatures out here and keeping his voice moderately low.

"There are wolves out here, but we should be safe. They're not--I mean they're wolves but they're shifters, you know?" He had been thinking about how to introduce Jack to this magical 'other' world of his for some time. Now seemed like a good time to do it, now that Jack had seen (and touched) his wings.

[Jack Ripley]

Jack gave Brayden a Look when he was reminded to bring his keys, patting his coat pockets to let them jingle and show Brayden they were there. Okay? He wasn't Brayden, all right? (Except that one time... when he came home and luckily left his lock picking set with Brayden. Otherwise, yeah, he would have been fucked--but it wasn't because he forgot them inside the house... rather... he forgot them at the club. Not that this made it any better. Shush.)

What Jack liked most about Brayden's stories were how idyllic they were. He could even see little Brayden in his mind's eye. He could see him climbing around on his own, using the stars as his guide.

After they left the car behind with a wave, Jack felt Brayden slide his hand into his. He smiled. It was... comfortable. Cozy. He didn't smile so much when he heard there were wolves in the area. Nervously, he gave the trees around them a look. Wolves that were shifters, though. He didn't know why that should be any less dangerous but Brayden didn't seem worried so he shook out the tension in his shoulders.

"Shifters?" he hazarded the question. "There's a lot I don't know about this place, isn't there?"

Maybe the whole world, although he never knew any such things existed in Boston. Hard to believe they could, what with how densely populated it was. Cities seemed like a bad idea for magical creatures, so maybe they all congregated in tiny places like Hazleton.

[Brayden Smith]

Yes, there was a lot that Jack had yet to learn about Hazleton, but Bray and Marge could guide him. He only needed to be educated, to know the signs to watch out for, to be aware of some of the dangers, too, that lurked out here. Most people, though, only wanted to live in peace. They were all human for the most part, with their own small hopes and dreams, families and friends. They lived normal lives, were mostly peaceful, so there was nothing for Jack to fear.

"There is," he replied as he picked his way around a clump of weeds growing in the middle of the path, "but you'll get caught up in no time. Marge and I are always here if you have questions."

Marge who was... something. A seer, she said, which Bray took to mean a witch of some sort. She didn't elaborate, though, on her abilities and Bray was too polite (and too fearful of her) to push for details. Unfairly, she made him explain every single one of his abilities until she seemed satisfied, which made for a very uncomfortable moment with Allie nearby. Allie who was also a shifter, albeit a different kind than what Bray was used to.

Jack, he thought, was surrounded by magic and simply never knew it.

Bray lowered his voice a little more as they walked. "As long as you don't go around yelling about magic, though, you're okay. And you're human so hunters probably won't target you."

[Jack Ripley]

"I'm plenty crazy without raving about magic," he assured Brayden. "I won't be shouting about it any time soon."

But he was curious about it. He wanted to see it. Other than Brayden's true form, Jack didn't really know what magic looked like, if it looked like anything. It could be an invisible force, he supposed, like the wind. He thought about his students, wondering if any of them were magical creatures and he just didn't know. Then about their co-workers at the college. People he met at the grocery store. The owner of the Sunrise apartments. Their neighbors. Anybody could be anything.

Jack wasn't paranoid about it, but he was still intensely curious. Now everybody he met, he was going to wonder. And also wonder... why such magic existed in the world and here he was, without it. He could have used something like that growing up. Some kind of magic. Some kind of defense. Some way to get out of the life he lived a lot earlier, faster than he did.

"Oh, hold on a minute." Jack didn't stop walking but he did put up a hand as he turned to look at Brayden. "Hunters? Are they the ones making fairy wine? Marge told me about it... and I doubt other fairies are making it."

[Brayden Smith]

"Crazy beautiful," Bray supplemented, not being one who liked to hear others talk themselves down. Besides, Jack wasn't crazy. He was talented, gifted, intelligent—okay, okay, he could wax poetic all night but the point was, Jack was not crazy. And Bray knew he wouldn't do anything to endanger them on purpose, but certain things needed to be relayed to him, in the interests of making sure that they were all kept safe from hunters.

Bray did stop when told to hold on a minute—taking it very literally. When Jack didn't stop, he hastened to catch up the few steps he missed. "They are," he admitted sadly. "They're called trophy hunters, and they hunt for... sport. Like people do with deer or bears. Those are the worst ones. Others, they do it to protect humans from us but... but really we're not all dangerous."

Some were dangerous. Vampires could get a little big-headed about their roles in the world. Certain feral shifters—wolves—were uncontrollably violent during full moons but they had separate, closed off areas for shifting. And others perhaps had had enough of hiding and considered themselves the next rung in the evolutionary ladder.

Bray was merely content to live his life in peace, with no thoughts either way on the superiority of the species.

[Jack Ripley]

"I could never see you as dangerous," Jack said with a half smile. But he didn't like the idea of these... hunters. Killing for sport... He felt... uncomfortable talking about it. About killing people, even if they weren't... people, as such. Which... in all honesty, he couldn't really put together. Brayden was more human than anybody he'd ever known. Why kill that? Over wine? Disgusting.

"Listen..."

It seemed like. The Time. Like he should say something now, while the subject was already up in the air. Killing people. It whispered in the back of his head, like a song he couldn't forget. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. He wanted this for a little while longer. Just him and Brayden and not... that ugly secret.

"Listen," he said again, putting his free hand up to his ear. "Is that an owl?"

[Brayden Smith]

"I don't look dangerous now," Bray said with a secretive smile, "but wait till the full moon." During which absolutely nothing would happen, because he was a fairy and all he had that was dangerous was maybe the wings knocking something over if he wasn't careful. He could, though, do damage in dreams but he never wanted to use his abilities for evil—and never, ever against Jack.

"Hm? An owl?" Was there an owl nearby? Bray listened carefully. "Oh! Yeah, I think it's over there?" He pointed off to their left and sure enough, a dark shape swooped off the branches of a tree. Bray smiled; nighttime here in the woods could be pretty exciting too. His smile faded when he heard a small squeak and more wings flapping, and realized that the owl had just caught a mouse or rat for dinner...

He coughed. "Let's... keep walking, we're almost there." Better not stay around for too long. Nature could be beautiful, but also... incredibly cruel. It was only another five minutes' walk to the top of Eagle Ridge, and the trees thinned out to a stretch of grass and small bushes. Bray let out a delighted sound when he saw that no one else was there—sometimes couples liked to go up there to cozy up together, much in the same way that Bray was sure they would be doing soon.

"Here, this is the best spot." He led Jack over to a flat stretch with an unobstructed view of the skies. No trees nearby to drop dead leaves on them, either, and they were at a safe enough distance from the edge of the ridge.

[Jack Ripley]

"Oh?" He ran a hand thoughtfully over his chin. Brayden's secret smile told him nothing but he liked it. He liked it a lot. He wondered if Brayden knew the power of his smiles. People at work always said he was so quiet and a bit gloomy, that he never smiled. But the Brayden that Jack knew smiled all the time. Brayden didn't seem to have anything more to say about himself and the full moon, but Jack looked up to check. It wasn't full. Good...? Or bad...?

Thankfully, there actually was an owl hooting in the distance, so Jack didn't have to try and explain himself. He looked in the direction of the owl and he could hear a whooshing sound. Interesting. It was flying out here. Jack wondered what else was out on the ridge, if they would see bats or hear wolves howling. Brayden did say they were around.

"It's perfect." Jack walked slowly into the space with Brayden. It really was. The sky above them was wide open. It was so vast that it made Jack feel small. His problems were insignificant in the face of the universe. Looking back down, he let the bag slide off his shoulder and opened it up to bring out the blanket. He laid it over the ground and shoved the bag aside, so that it was near but not in the way. Then he stretched himself across the blanket, holding his hand out for Brayden to join him.

"You won't believe this but... I've never properly stargazed." He looked up, up, up into the dark sky, with all its tiny little pinpoints of light, each one a star. "It's so quiet out here. Nothing like a club or a bar..."

[Brayden Smith]

While Jack shook out the blanket, Bray unpacked their thermos of hot soup and also unfolded the second blanket that he'd brought for added warmth. Jack didn't have to ask him twice to join him on the blanket; Bray was down beside him immediately, hand slipping into Jack's. He arranged the other blanket to wrap over their legs and leaned against Jack with his own eyes on the speckled night sky.

"Hm..." In larger cities, stars were harder to come by; there was too much stray light around and some of the weaker points of light were lost. But out here, that wasn't an issue. Bray slid his arms around Jack and turned into him for a moment, smiling against his shoulder. "Maybe that's a good thing." Or it was a different change of scenery from a packed, noisy club. Out here it was just the two of them, alone together.

Some nights when Bray came up here alone, he would perch on top of a rock or a log and just let his thoughts run. It was unusually quiet up here and he found that if he sat still long enough, he would slip into a strange meditative state. Sometimes he fell asleep, too, and was visited by loved ones, which was always a pleasure, and those were his favorite nights, when he could come face-to-face with those he loved and lost. He didn't always remember the conversations, though; perhaps some things even his unconscious mind wanted to keep from him.

"Ah, look over there. Orion's belt." He lifted a hand to indicate the line of three stars that made up the constellation. Bray then paused, with a small smile. "Hey. I have an idea. Don't—don't freak out." His hand moved over the constellation again, but where his fingertips traced, a glowing white outline appeared, mapping out the stars. It was a small illusion, part of his ability to induce hallucinations—albeit not a very trippy one, simply outlining constellations in a star-strewn sky. Bray's fingertips kept drawing. "That's Orion. He's called the hunter because, see, it looks like he's holding a bow, doesn't it? Bet your belt's fancier than his, though," he added with a soft laugh, thinking back to row upon row of belts sitting back in Jack's apartment.

[Jack Ripley]

"It is."

He meant it as a good thing. Honestly, he was starting to get too old for that shit and he knew it. Was this an end of an era? It felt like it. But in the end, did he really need loud music, drink after drink, and the new flavor of the weekend if he had somebody steady at his side?

"Where?" Jack squinted at the night sky, trying to find the belt. Surely something called Orion's belt would be snazzy. If it were named for stars, it would have to have rhinestones. Ew. He made a slight face at his own imagined belt, before blinking to make sure his eyes saw what they saw. He blinked again--still there. Brayden was drawing in the sky!

"Well," he said, attempting to get over his breathless awe at the sudden magic in the air, "none of my belts will ever have rhinestones." And he remembered that he only thought it and that his words probably didn't mean the same thing they meant to Jack. He nuzzled Brayden, then peered with one eye at the drawn constellation. Still there.

"...it's real magic." Not an elaborate hoax. Anyway, Brayden wasn't like that.

[Brayden Smith]

Orion's belt was only three stars but imagination filled in the rest for Bray. Imagine having a belt made of stars! And each star was a burning sun of its own, with satellite planets circling it, drawn in inexplicably by its gravity—not unlike himself and Jack, he thought. Jack was that burning, bright star and Bray was nothing more than a humble, tiny planet pulled in by his majestic glow and his inescapable charisma.

Rhinestones, though, evoked mental images of old ladies for some reason. Maybe because his grandmother loved them and had them studded all over her old-fashioned handbags. She was... ah... blinged out, as the kids called it once. Bray kept that to himself, though—surely Jack didn't want to be associated mentally with an old lady clutching an oversized glittering bag.

"You can do it too." He nuzzled back as he reached down for Jack's hand and pulled it up to the sky. Their linked fingers traced another pattern, making the stars glow. "That one's mama bear. Ursa Major. And right nearby, see, little bear. Ursa Minor."

[Jack Ripley]

"You're sweet," Jack said, "but I know I'm not really doing anything."

Still, it was kinda fun to imagine that he was, that the finger tracing along the stars had magic in it. But he knew it was really Brayden. He wasn't a three year old with a video game controller, thinking he was playing when he wasn't. He'd seen that before. One of the neighbors had a lot of kids and the older ones would do that to the younger ones to avoid actually playing with them.

Not that this was anything like that.

"I bet those are your favorites," he said with a smile in his tone. Brayden's mom sounded like a proper mama bear. Not the scary go-after-you-until-you-die part but the sweet, instinctual part. Protective part without the scary. Jack wished he could have met her.

[Brayden Smith]

Bray laughed—magic by proxy. All right, it was mostly him, but it didn't hurt to share the magic for a moment with Jack. They could both pretend that Jack had that tingle in his fingertips that made stars shine. But really, Jack didn't need it; he was magic all in his own class. What else except magic could make someone feel like they were flying when both feet were planted on the ground? What other force could mend broken hearts and heal deep-seated pain? Magic wasn't all sparkling star pictures in the sky; sometimes it was less flashy, but no less miraculous.

The bears were his favorites, though, ever since his mother and father took him up here to see them. Bray was eight years old, and he had been looking forward to that night because there was supposed to be a meteor shower. He remembered sitting on a blanket just like this, between his parents, being shown the stars. His mother's gentle hand stroked his hair while his father's deep, soothing, calming voice told stories (factual stories, though) about each cluster of stars. Bray's father was studious, just like him—a bit of a geek, too. He passed along his love of reading, of astronomy, but also his own brand of gentleness and acceptance.

"They were my favorites," Bray corrected Jack as he turned to him, watching him illuminated by starlight. Yet, still, Jack shone the brightest to him. Bray leaned in to kiss him, just at the corner of his mouth. "You're my favorite now."

[Jack Ripley]

"How fortuitous," Jack said with a slight hum in the back of his throat as he kissed Bray back. Every bit as chase, sweet. A little game. Not everything had to be frantic fucking in the back of some seedy bar. "You're my favorite, too."

He didn't even care if it made sense in this context or not. Brayden was his star, then. And by default, his favorite. More than default, really. It was the first star he'd ever been able to catch, after all those years of being a young, dumb kid, thinking stars were magic entities that granted wishes. Brayden didn't know it, but he was doing just that. Wishes that Jack didn't even know he'd been harboring were coming true. For once in his entire life, he felt something inside of him truly growing, blossoming, becoming the man he was meant to be all along.

Jack shared another kiss with Brayden before falling back against the blanket set beneath them, resting a hand over his heart, where he could feel it beating, like any living, breathing person. His fingers curled round the fabric for a moment. Always crisp, clean, soft, expensive.

"I never had somebody like you to talk to. My friends were more or less like me... fronting for their vulnerabilities, afraid somebody might strike through their armor. Back then, armor wasn't like this. It was kids with foul mouths and a lot of blustering to look bigger and tougher than they were. I was the youngest. I wanted to be cool and tough like them, I didn't know they were fronting then. I just thought they all had it figured it out. They taught me to pick locks. We robbed people so we could keep up our drug habits." He fell silent. "I'm not proud of it. But you have to admit, at least it came in handy...?"