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When Hargitt’s eyes moved, Jakkoa’s lips curved, but he said nothing aloud, making private note instead that the man might actually be interested in men after all, but leaving that for further investigation at a later date. Hargitt’s grip swallowed his. Firm and well-worked, but so quick to retreat that Jak again noted: shy. It was such a strange characteristic, he thought, for someone so large in his own right, and intriguing. But that, too, Jak left for later pondering.

“I play, you know,” Jak said. “A small qiita…a stringed instrument. I am not amazing at it, but I’ve kept up with it and I write songs on occasion. Perhaps you approached me some year or two ago on one of our earlier visits, after nightfall when most everyone else was off busy. You found me practicing, drawn in by the melody or an off key note. After you approached and introduced yourself, we got to talking, based on our combined interest…”

Jakkoa reached, catching at one of Hargitt’s wrists and guiding it to his hip as he stepped in, closing up most of the minimal space left between them.

“You, of course, found me mesmerizing and engaging and effortlessly attractive, and I…” With the opposite hand, one still holding Hargitt’s first to his hip, Jak caught at the man’s other wrist, lifting this time to his neck and encouraging as best he could to fit Hargitt’s fingers against his nape while guiding his thumb forward to the back nook of his jawline. Then, Jak notched his chin up, and lifted his lashes, glancing from Hargitt’s eyes, to his lips. “I thought you were a little brusque and shy on the uptake, but…charming, in a sort of…” The hand previously holding Hargitt’s to his hip lifted, brushing up the center line of Hargitt’s chest before hooking at the niche between neck and shoulder, “…endearing, earthy, farmboy way…”

It wasn’t, admittedly, a position Jak had imagined fitting himself into that afternoon—or certainly not in this manner—but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and if the theatrics of it all won him a position pressed against a body of warm stone and a few kisses along the way, he wasn’t about to complain.

“This would be, by the way, about the point where you kiss me,” he added. “I would suggest a sort of…slow lean for dramatic and romantic effect. Feel free to grip my hair, but not so much that you muss it, and you might attempt to school your expression into something a little less pained and terrified so it doesn’t look as though you’re about to fulfill some deep but troublesome obligation. And of course do try to make it look natural—surely you’ve kissed before, yes? I would volunteer to initiate, but you’re a bit…” Glancing up, Hargitt’s chin was perhaps even with the top of Jakkoa’s head, if that. “High. So aside from me climbing you…”

As the larger man’s breath hitched, Jak kept a hum of satisfaction to himself. Naturally it was all a means to an end, but he had no complaints in the meantime as to what their planned act ‘obligated’ them to do—and there was a certain sort of subtle draw to the other’s shyness. Different, certainly, than the way most approached him.

“In a sense you are,” Jak admitted. “But what I meant by it was that if this is to be convincing, you oughtn’t look as though y—”

When the hand at his hip slid back, Jakkoa blinked once, words trailing off and eyebrows then notching up immediately after as the palm moved further, braced, and hoisted him up by his rear. He needed no extra prompting, his body moving reflexively to pinch his knees in at the larger man’s hips and legs then following up to loop and synch. He shot the man a Look, close range and balanced precariously between amusement, surprise, and something else toeing along the lines of, ‘Well, that was bold of you…’ Before he could do more than open his mouth, however, the other man was leaning in, dipping, and—

Needless to say, it was not the most graceful of moments on either of their parts. Stiff, forced pressing. Uncertainty, and due to Jakkoa’s surprise in no small part, no initial movement. For several exaggeratedly long moments, it was just that: their mouths together, physically in contact, and bodies twined, but stillness otherwise. Then, puffing out through his nose, Jakkoa shifted his weight, almost-but-not-quite squirming against the larger man, breaking back away from the kiss and opening his mouth to say something—and then changing his mind and adjusting his grip instead. And leaning back in.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he had been expecting. Perhaps ‘one of the stiffest and most awkward kisses to date’ is what he ought to have seen coming. But he hadn’t, and there was no changing that now. At least, of all situations he had found himself in, being held off the ground with a firm hand under him while playing mouth-to-mouth with an attractive, if rigid man wasn’t the worst of them.

Still.

“You might pretend to enjoy yourse—you have kissed someone intentionally and with interest before, have you not?” Jak repeated. “Because, chore and obligation as it might be to you, rest assured that when most interested lovers engage, they do normally welcome it…”

They also did not spend a great deal of time critiquing or complaining about their ‘beloved’s’ kissing style, but that seemed to Jak to be more within the scope of necessity in the moment.

Something changed.

Jak couldn’t have said what exactly, and it wasn’t perfect—there was still a very apparent stiffness in the man and uncertainty—but it was different, more. And worlds better. As Hargitt’s posture shifted and they came together for the second or third attempt, he was less rigid and almost—though Jak hesitated to think it initially—predatory. A leaning, driving, and encompassing kiss that, for a moment, tricked Jakkoa’s own pulse into stepping a notch up. There was an actual press to the heat of Hargitt’s lips, and Jak’s moved to accommodate—and pursue—his fingers sliding to press and then crimp encouragingly at the flat muscle at the back of the man’s shoulders.

When Hargitt’s teeth pinched, Jak gave a short hum of approval, the corners of his lips edging up into a smile. If they could manage this, surely any qualms Hargitt had in regards to believability would be—

“Hargitt?!”

Jak felt the jerk in Hargitt’s grip and tightened his own on instinct so as not to fall, body tense with initial surprise and yellow-gold eyes snapping sidelong to the source. But not just any source, a woman—Hargitt’s mother, Jak recognized a half second later. For a handful of perhaps five or so seconds, there was nothing but staring and recovering from initial startlement, but in that period, Jakkoa’s mind flit through the situation, the unexpected presence, their options, and—

Looping one hand up around Hargitt’s neck to brace himself, Jakkoa let his legs carefully slip, and drop, lowering him out from Hargitt’s grip and to solid ground again. He took slightly more time, though, letting his arm drop from the man’s neck, and never quite stepped away after that. Instead, after one ‘hesitant’ glance up to Hargitt, he wound his arm around the man’s waist, and sent Anora Farys a long, deliberating look, opening his mouth several times before eventually speaking.

“I…am sorry it came out in this way, Mrs. Farys. Your son and I, we…well, we intended to tell you, of course. But he was hesitant, and with you in your state, I certainly understood at least that it wouldn’t be best to stress or startle you. We were, though, intending to speak up perhaps after the child was born. When I came and heard that he was engaged, though, you must understand I was so hurt, I thought—” Jak paused, reaching to run a hand through his hair and sending an ‘abashed’ glance to Hargitt before looking back to the man’s mother. “I apologize again, I’m getting ahead of myself. Mrs. Farys, Hargitt and I have been…involved with one another for years. It wasn’t quite so serious at first, naturally, we were friends, but…it has become more than that. I love him dearly, and…I can only hope that postponing coming forward about it has not caused more trouble than can be fixed.”

Golden eyes flicked from one speaker to the other, but eventually, Jakkoa’s attention landed and stayed on the woman—Anora. Evidently she had her reservations, but the relative ease of transition from suspicion to simple objection and inquiry was promising to say the least. Jakkoa shifted his weight, subtly fitting himself into a more relaxed curve against Hargitt’s body and tipping his head.

“Grandchildren,” he said at length, “are a very distant concern, I would hope.” ‘It doesn’t look as though your family is any special need of more children at the moment at all.’ He touched the tip of his tongue to the back of his teeth, and then smiled. “That aside, however, I don’t see why anything about this would prevent us from following that path when well and truly ready if it comes to it. But more immediately…” He shifted his weight again, fingers brushing at Hargitt’s far hip as he leaned out enough to send a momentary glance the other man’s way before focusing again on Anora. “It is actually convenient that you mention travel. We…I…”

He let a moment’s hesitation hang in the air there, and dropped his gaze.

“You know that my sister is sick. I have been considering traveling Sauti, Zena…and potentially beyond that in an effort to find a lasting cure for her. I was concerned about this, of course, and his engagement to Flyssa only furthered that, as I feared it might mean the end to what we had built thus far, but…I have asked. And we intend to travel together. Of course, we hope that the journey won’t be long, but at this point there is no telling.”

There, he let his smile grow a fraction, blooming into something warmer and more amused as he glanced again to Hargitt, and then his mother. “As to our differences, I like to think they foster new ways of thinking, and help us both remain…interested. I wouldn’t give our differences up for the world.”

Promising.

Incredibly promising, even.

Enough so that it took Jak for surprise for a moment when Hargitt’s fingers — hesitant and stiff only minutes ago — were gentle on his face, brushing at his hair. The skim of calloused fingertips over the upper rise of his ears, however, sent a far more familiar trickle of heat through him, down his neck and to his—

He promptly set the feeling aside, for the moment, to be examined and appreciated in more depth at a more appropriate occasion. For the time being, he smiled, relaxing and letting relief show in his expression. Since he was relieved, it was easiest of all, and when he thanked Anora for understanding and for her blessings, that too, was sincere—in some sense of the word, at least. It wasn’t, of course, the entire hurdle. After speaking with her, there came the later details, breaking the information to those who needed to know and continuing to keep up their act when it mattered.

But, with likely the greatest potential skeptic out of the way so far as Jakkoa knew, and their initial rocky planning stage over with — or at least well underway — things felt smoother. Whether or not Hargitt was comfortable, Jakkoa didn’t concern himself with. The man played his role when needed and with as much grace as he could have hoped for, keeping it convincing, and that was all that was necessary to achieve both of their ends.

It all, so far as Jakkoa was concerned, unfolded magnificently.