May 29, 33 AE

Their next opportunity for a date would also be their last for the foreseeable future. While Mack's filming was put on hold, he still had his "real" job as a guardian and was easily slipped back into the Org's schedule. Jordan had the entire month of June reserved to promote his new album, and his schedule was packed with late night and early morning appearances, interviews, photoshoots, and the like. They had to make this opportunity count, and Mack didn't want to screw it up.

So they kept it simple. They planned for a late lunch at a vegetarian restaurant that Mack wanted to try, then a trip to the speakeasy arcade Jordan suggested for their first date, and they would end the night with a movie at Jordan's place. Supposedly, Jordan offered his place since it had a bigger TV screen, but he refused to confirm if he also had a bigger couch when Mack asked.

Mack was actually a little surprised that Jordan agreed to a public lunch, even after they learned there was no private or secluded dining area. But Jordan insisted that he still wanted to go, and Mack didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

They planned to meet at the restaurant at one, but Mack arrived a little early to scope the place out. Maybe it was his guardian training at work, but maybe he just wanted to make sure there were no surprises for Jordan to walk into. He definitely preferred the latter idea.

Per his request, he got a table at the back corner, away from the restaurant's wide front windows. While the restaurant was busy, there were barriers between every third table, and the patrons in the same section were already ending their meals. Plus, the overhead lighting was terrible (for the "high-end ambiance", probably), and even if people did recognize them, any pictures they took would be blurry.

Jordan arrived right on time, and as he walked up to their table with a wide smile, Mack was delighted that he got there first to see such an entrance.

He was wearing a sky blue blazer opened over a red and blue plaid shirt, and Mack couldn't help but notice how the sunglasses he was hooking to his collar exposed more of Jordan's chest than he probably intended. His shirt was neatly tucked into a pair of white bermudas, secured with a dark brown belt; coupled with his brown and blue boat shoes, Jordan's appearance was like a visual representation of a classy summer.

Their poorly lit table seemed to grow a bit brighter.

"You look fantastic," Mack greeted. (And since when did he get to his feet?)

Jordan seemed to restrain his pleased expression as he glanced around them, then back at Mack. "Thanks, you too."

Mack managed to reduce his laughter to a muted chuckle just in time. "I mean, I know I always look great, but my fashion sense doesn't even compare to yours."

He wasn't exaggerating either. His own outfit was just a white linen Henley shirt, blue jeans, and brown skate shoes. The most thought he put into his clothes was making sure his short sleeves tightly hugged his biceps (as intended) and most of his shirt buttons were left undone (because his chest was phenomenal).

Jordan's smile became slightly less reserved at Mack's comment.

All the fashion talk sparked Mack's memory, and he dug a hand into his back pocket as they sat down.

"I have something for you," Mack grinned, pulling out a small cylindrical gift.

"You didn't have to," Jordan said shyly, but he took the present immediately and admired it for a moment. "I like the snowflakes and pine trees."

"It was the least holiday-themed wrapping paper I had, okay?" Mack explained. "Just open it."

Jordan smirked playfully, but eventually complied.

It was no surprise that Jordan removed the paper carefully, even though Mack did a messy job at wrapping it. And when Jordan finally revealed the first clue of the contents, he stared at it for a moment, then at Mack, confused.

"Is this a toilet paper roll?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"No, just the middle of one," Mack replied simply. "But it's what's on the inside that counts."

"You know you're supposed to throw them away," Jordan continued, a grin showing at the edges of his lips.

"Yes, I know, I know," Mack said impatiently. "Can you just look inside of it already?"

Jordan's playful expression remained as he dug into the roll and pulled out the contents: a pair of bright green socks patterned with donuts and corgi posteriors.

"Oh my god!" Jordan exclaimed as he examined the socks, his smile the widest Mack had ever seen. "These are amazing!"

The fire in Mack's chest was blazing.

"I guess you like them?" Mack asked, his own smile growing wider just from seeing Jordan's.

"I love them!" Jordan beamed as he ran a thumb over one of the corgis.

"Good, because..." Mack brought out one of his legs from under the table and dramatically stomped it on the ground between them. "Check it out!"

He hiked up his jeans a bit along with his exclamation, revealing his own pair of neon green corgi donut socks.

"We can match!" Mack announced.

"Oh my god," Jordan repeated, laughing into the socks. "I can't believe you're wearing them too."

"Well, I can believe it," Mack said, letting his jeans fall back down and sliding his leg under the table again. "You're not the only one that can pull off cool socks."

"The matching clothes though," Jordan began, his hands seeming to play with the socks absentmindedly. "It's... okay, this is kind of embarrassing, but it's something that people in Korea do a lot."

Mack raised an eyebrow, suspicious. On the surface, there was nothing embarrassing about what Jordan said, so there had to be something else he wasn't saying.

"Really?" Mack asked innocently. "So just random people? Like complete strangers?"

"Well, no..." Jordan said, his gaze dropping to the table.

"Co-workers, maybe?" Mack continued. "Like a uniform?"

"No," Jordan repeated, still avoiding Mack's eye contact.

Mack leaned a little closer, grinning. "Then who? Who wears matching clothes?"

"You know," Jordan muttered, now adamantly focused on fiddling with the socks. "Couples."

Mack leaned back, proudly beaming. "Well, that's cute! What should we match next? Oh, what about sweaters?"

Unfortunately for him, but much to Jordan's relief, a server came by to take their orders. As such, Mack quietly dropped the topic, though he made a mental note to look up other dating customs Jordan might be familiar with.

For the most part, lunch was fantastic. Admittedly, Mack had been a little worried that his choice of a higher end restaurant made him seem pretentious, but the food ended up being well worth the cost. Thanks to a combination of Mack's meta-human appetite and the tendency for fancy restaurants to serve small portions, they ordered a wide variety of dishes to sample. Mack's favorite dish was a tie between the deep dish "pepperoni" pizza and their magical mac and cheese; Jordan devoured the brownie sundae.

They also talked. Since they were in public and neither of them ordered liquid courage, Mack did most of the talking, and Jordan seemed content with listening as he nibbled at their food.

Everything was going so well, in fact, that Mack wasn't sure how much time had passed when Jordan's phone began buzzing from his jacket that he had draped over the back of his chair. The volume wasn't on, but the vibration was strong enough that it sounded like a swarm of bees furiously trying to escape his pocket.

"Sorry," Jordan mumbled with a sheepish grin, and he only paused their conversation long enough to retrieve his phone, glance at the screen, then silence the ringing.

"Did you need to answer it?" Mack asked. He already warned Jordan that he was required to answer his phone for guardian-related duties, and he didn't expect it to be a one-sided arrangement.

"It's fine," Jordan assured. "It's just my manager."

Based on what Mack heard about the infamous Julie Khan, ignoring her phone call was anything but fine. "Are you sure about that?"

But Jordan merely nodded. "It's all good. Now what were you saying about jellyfish?"

It didn't take long before Jordan's phone began to buzz again, and he grimaced at the interruption.

"I'm really sorry," he apologized again, this time slightly more flustered, as he dug into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

"You should answer it," Mack advised. "I really don't mind. I could use the opportunity to eat more instead of talking."

The relief on Jordan's face was subtle but still noticeable against his anxiety. "Thanks. Sorry."

Once Jordan left, Mack did exactly as he said he would and began sampling bites of food from every dish, working around their table in a clockwise motion. He wasn't really a picky eater, aside from avoiding meat, so he took care to go around the parts he knew Jordan preferred.

It took a few minutes for Jordan to return, and while he had a small smile on his face, it seemed stiff and forced.

"Sorry about that," Jordan apologized yet again, jerkily returning to his seat.

"Everything okay?" Mack asked as he munched on a carrot stick. He belatedly remembered Jordan's judgemental glances whenever he talked while eating, and he put a hand over his mouth after the fact.

So when Jordan didn't look the least bit disgusted by the poor display of table manners, and instead kept his hesitant smile directed down at the table, Mack knew something was wrong.

"It's..." Jordan began, and paused for a few seconds. "I don't want to think about it."

But he was obviously still thinking about "it", whatever it was, as they continued to eat and chat. Or rather, as Mack continued to do so, since Jordan seemed preoccupied with organizing the salad by ingredient colors.

"What's going on?" Mack finally asked, once Jordan started rearranging the cranberries in the salad into a gradient of red.

In the few seconds of silence that followed, when they could only hear the light chatter of other patrons and the gentle clinking of metal utensils against porcelain dishes, Mack was sure that Jordan was going to brush the question off and switch topics. And while they had promised to maintain open communication, Mack knew there were definitely a few things Jordan couldn't talk about, at least not then, and not there.

"That was Julie," Jordan eventually explained as he continued to shuffle a few cranberries around the salad bowl with his fork. "She said... there were pictures of me online."

With that one phrase, Mack's insides felt like they were flash freezed, and he had to consciously remind himself to keep breathing. He had no idea what kind of photos Jordan had of himself, that wasn't important. What mattered was that Jordan's privacy was violated, and Mack was furious.

"Does she know who did it?" Mack asked, trying and probably failing to keep his voice under control. "How did they get them? We need to change all your passwords right now. What about your house? What if they can get in there too? Stay at my place tonight--"

"Mack!" Jordan hissed, holding up a hand in front of Mack's mouth. He glanced around the restaurant before continuing in a lowered voice. "Please calm down, okay? It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Mack insisted, trying a little harder to obediently keep his indoor voice. "They have photos of you!"

"They're not, like, explicit or anything!" Jordan whispered, his eyes wide with shock. "They're just from today, from outside the restaurant."

Confused, Mack took a moment to himself to retrace their conversation. All Jordan had said was that there were pictures of him online. It was Mack that got the very wrong idea.

"Jules just called because... well, I just don't like being blindsided by them," Jordan explained, his attention turned back to the cranberries. "Sorry, I should've explained better."

For once in his life, Mack was embarrassed.

"No, I'm sorry," Mack said, still wincing at his misassumption. "I totally thought the press leaked your nudes."

This time, Jordan's wide eyes were accompanied by tinted cheeks.

"I... I don't have... that," he finally managed to say. "Why--actually, no, I don't even want to think about it."

But now Mack was thinking about it. So he took a big gulp of his ice water to flush it from his mind.

"Okay!" Mack eventually said, once he had purged most of his inappropriate thoughts. "So still, what are we gonna do about them? The totally innocent photos, I mean. Well, relatively innocent, since they're still kinda stalker-ish."

Jordan shrugged, having moved on to sorting the salad's clumps of feta cheese by size.

"I... don't know," he admitted. "I was thinking about it, and how they're probably still outside, waiting for me to leave. They might even be in here already."

"Did you wanna leave?" Mack suggested, because he knew Jordan was going to suggest it himself. "I'm fine if we leave."

"I don't know," Jordan repeated, his voice wavering ever so slightly, and his fork now only moving with the slight shaking of his hand. "I don't..."

His voice broke before he could finish his sentence. His eyes had lost their focus and were darting around the table at the pace of his short breaths. It seemed like he was doing everything he could to keep his emotions in check, to keep from breaking down right then and there, and his facade was one second away from shattering into pieces.

Mack couldn't bear to watch anymore. He glanced around them, then back to Jordan.

"Jordan," he whispered, then waited for the man's wide eyes to focus on him.

It took a while, but as soon as Jordan's gaze met his own, Mack waved one of his hands ever so slightly, then slid it under the table.

For a moment, it didn't look like Jordan was going to follow, and he merely stared back at Mack in worry. Then, after a nervous glance around them, Jordan followed.

Their fingers met under the table first, Jordan's sweaty and stumbling, Mack's steady and sure. But as soon as their fingertips grazed, Mack found the rest of Jordan's hand and held on tight; a beat later, Jordan did the same.

"It's gonna be okay," Mack whispered, then closed his eyes.

His world was dark except for the man in front of him. But unlike all the other times Mack had seen and felt his presence, Jordan's light was dim, like the fire of a candle in a storm.

So Mack stoked the flame.

It was only a small amount of energy, and it was only meant to comfort and not to heal, but Mack hoped that it would be enough. He heard Jordan let out a small shocked gasp, but before Mack could pull his hand back out of concern, Jordan held on even tighter.

When Mack opened his eyes again, Jordan was watching him. And while the man still looked nervous, he was at least calmer, and that was a start.

"Can we..." Jordan began, letting his question taper off in silence.

"Leave?" Mack finished.

Jordan hesitated, then nodded.

"Of course. Separately?" Mack guessed.

Again, Jordan paused before confirming.

"We can do that," Mack assured, squeezing Jordan's hand once more. "You okay to drive around the block?"

Thanks to Mack's foresight, and quite possibly his Academy training, he already had escape plans in place. So while Jordan went to his car and drove to the opposite side of the block, Mack stayed back to pay, then used his impeccable charm on the staff to leave through their back door. They regrouped in front of a florist, then Mack directed Jordan down a few blocks to an alley where they could switch seats. Mack was concerned that the last part of his plan might be considered overkill, but when Jordan kept to himself as they swapped drivers, Mack knew he made the right call.

It was a quiet drive to Jordan's place; Mack assumed that it wasn't a good time for the arcade, and Jordan seemed to agree as he entered his home address into his car's GPS. While Mack wouldn't consider the ensuing silence as awkward--he prided himself in being able to adapt to most situations--he wasn't sure what he should say, if anything at all.

They were silent even as they parked in the lot under Jordan's building. But as soon as Mack was undoing his seatbelt, Jordan spoke first.

"I'm sorry," Jordan managed to choke out, his voice barely audible. "You don't deserve this."

The words caught Mack by surprise, partially because of their meaning, and partially because he hadn't expected Jordan to speak at all.

"What are you talking about?" Mack asked, trying not to express his worry as he watched the other man carefully. "Jordan, this isn't your fault."

"I want to hide us," Jordan said firmly, not taking his eyes from the glove compartment. "That's not my fault?"

"That's our choice," Mack clarified. "It's the paparazzi's fault for stalking you like a creepy ex, and it's society's fault for making us feel like we have to choose between privacy and happiness."

"Are you saying that you would still hide your relationship with an openly gay guy?" Jordan asked, his last words wavering.

No, he wouldn't. And Mack couldn't deny that.

"You wouldn't, would you?" Jordan answered when Mack remained silent.

"You're right, I wouldn't," Mack agreed. "But I don't have to share everything with the world either. I'm fine with us being 'undercover partners', just like we said."

"You shouldn't have to," Jordan mumbled, unable to hide the way his voice shook. "You deserve to be open about your life, to not hide anything. You're not the type to keep your emotions a secret, you said so yourself. And you shouldn't have to go through that because--because I'm not as brave as you are."

Jordan was crying now, quietly letting tears trickle down his cheeks as he kept his gaze firmly on the dashboard in front of him.

Mack was at a loss for words. He couldn't think of anything he could say that could comfort Jordan, and to make him realize that Mack was fine with whatever they decided to do as long as he was with Jordan.

Hey, maybe that was it.

"Jordan," Mack said softly, and when he didn't get an answer, he tried again. "Jordan."

Eventually, Jordan turned to him slowly, his expression already filled with heartbreak.

"I just want to be with you," Mack said, not taking his gaze off of Jordan. "Whether we keep us private, or if we tell the world, that's not my priority. What matters is that we're happy together. Other people don't have to know about us because their opinions don't matter. Whether they like us, hate us, or don't care about us, that's all irrelevant. What matters is how we feel about us.

"And we can still be happy about a secret. Say you do a good deed, and you don't tell anybody. You can still be proud of yourself and not tell anybody. We're the same; we can be proud of what we have and not tell a soul. Right?"

While Jordan still seemed hesitant, he at least appeared to be contemplating Mack's words. And when Mack held out his hand just above the center console, Jordan eventually took it.

"I like you, Jordan," Mack said. "I really like you, and what we have. And, if you're willing, I wanna stick around and see where we take us."

After a pause, Jordan finally gave him a small, teary-eyed smile.

"I'd like that too," he whispered.

And when Jordan gently squeezed his hand, the warmth in Mack's chest bloomed.

---

NOTES

I hope you all enjoy this chapter and all of the sweetness!

There are a few more chapters ready, and I plan on [temporarily] ending this story with those. It won't completely tell Mack and Jordan's story and their respective histories, but it's a good stopping point, and hopefully I can share more at a later time.

Thanks for reading, commenting, and voting!