[Jin's kissing him before he realizes that it's happening. He makes a short sound of surprise and his eyelids flutter shut, following Asher's lead as their lips move, slowly, together.
When he pulls away, Jin feels like he's floating in mid-air. His lips are still parted and he's tilted forward, much too close to Asher's face. And he has no idea what to say.]
Um.
[He's amazing?
Even for all his near-misses and slip-ups, Jin can see himself standing tall in his own reflection. It stings, an old aching wound, when he falters. But it happens. He's only human, and he's not perfect.
Asher is amazing. Asher is a normal man who has stood toe-to-toe with those same otherworldly gods and badasses for months and never broken, not truly, not even when he stumbled and fell. He is kind and considerate and more clever and more strong than he believes in, than he will ever believe in-- and gods, does Jin still wish, more than ever, that Asher could see all of that for himself.
But he sees it in Jin. He sees past the veneer of perfectionism and sees Jin alone-- Jin's talents, Jin's successes, Jin's victories, not those of his cousin or his ancestor or any other person he could ever be compared to over 600 or 800 or 1000 years. If Asher believes in him this much, he can survive a trip into the insecurities lingering in the back of his mind. He can move past. He can weather it.
Jin loves him.]
Okay.
[The realization is numbing. Good numbing. Jin's voice is a little hoarse, but by the look of contentment in his expression, it's clear that he's taken Asher's words-- and more-- to heart.]
no subject
[Jin's kissing him before he realizes that it's happening. He makes a short sound of surprise and his eyelids flutter shut, following Asher's lead as their lips move, slowly, together.
When he pulls away, Jin feels like he's floating in mid-air. His lips are still parted and he's tilted forward, much too close to Asher's face. And he has no idea what to say.]
Um.
[He's amazing?
Even for all his near-misses and slip-ups, Jin can see himself standing tall in his own reflection. It stings, an old aching wound, when he falters. But it happens. He's only human, and he's not perfect.
Asher is amazing. Asher is a normal man who has stood toe-to-toe with those same otherworldly gods and badasses for months and never broken, not truly, not even when he stumbled and fell. He is kind and considerate and more clever and more strong than he believes in, than he will ever believe in-- and gods, does Jin still wish, more than ever, that Asher could see all of that for himself.
But he sees it in Jin. He sees past the veneer of perfectionism and sees Jin alone-- Jin's talents, Jin's successes, Jin's victories, not those of his cousin or his ancestor or any other person he could ever be compared to over 600 or 800 or 1000 years. If Asher believes in him this much, he can survive a trip into the insecurities lingering in the back of his mind. He can move past. He can weather it.
Jin loves him.]
Okay.
[The realization is numbing. Good numbing. Jin's voice is a little hoarse, but by the look of contentment in his expression, it's clear that he's taken Asher's words-- and more-- to heart.]