Chapter Text
“Hey, did it hurt?”
Julian startles out of his thoughts and gives himself a quick once over. The slight confusion dissipates when he notices the mischievous glint in your eyes and the slight upward curve to your mouth, betraying the intention behind your otherwise neutral expression.
“When I fell from heaven?”
“No, from the vending machine.”
The obvious amusement in your expression grows as the confusion falls again over Julian.
“...Okay, what? I don’t follow.”
“Because you’re a snack.”
Julian snorts, stifling his laughter behind his hand as you waggle your eyebrows at him.
As of lately, after the eventful road trip vacation the two of you had taken, there’s been more flirting aimed at each other. Looking back, it’s always been there to some small degree, but certainly nowhere near as transparently obvious as it’s become. Where the relationship between the two of you stands, however, is still a mystery.
Julian sets his book down on the counter and reels himself back, squaring his shoulders and switching to a more neutral expression. So begins the game again. Whoever breaks first from the flirting war loses.
The battle begins as it usually does, in a frenzied volley of ridiculous puns and groan-worthy one-liners. While Julian uses his theatrical and flirtatious nature to his advantage, you make up for yourself with enthusiasm and creativity. Where the trouble – and the real fun – begins is when someone (Julian, usually) turns up the heat.
Julian steps forward, shrinking the space between you until he’s easily within arm’s reach. His fingers gently nudge your chin up, and you meet his gaze with a confident grin.
“Are you my anatomy book? Because I’d love to study you all night long.”
The pad of his thumb drags across your bottom lip, while his other trails teasingly down your side. Despite the dusting of pink across your cheeks, you continue to meet his gaze, refusing to back down against his devious smile. Smothering the laughter bubbling in your chest, you close the gap until only a few inches remain. Julian raises an eyebrow, watching you with intent curiosity. Your hands splay against his chest and you peek up at him through your eyelashes. It’s hard to tell whether the thrumming heartbeat you feel is yours or his.
“Your shirt is so soft, I like it. What’s it made of, boyfriend material?”
Your right hand slowly drags down his abdomen, fingering the bottom hem of his shirt and accidentally brushing your fingers feather-light against his skin. Julian shivers, flushed and beginning to fluster. Before he breaks, Julian reigns himself back. Leaning into your touch, his hands find purchase against your waist. You mock pout at him, almost successful, and Julian snickers back.
“Oh? I’m glad you finally noticed. On the contrary, it’s not just my clothing. I have poetry as well, if you’d like to hear.”
You cock an eyebrow, trying to anticipate his next (probably awful) quip. The laughter threatens to bubble higher, stretching your grin just a twinge wider, but you push it back, fighting to stay neutral. Julian squeezes at your waist, though from his expression it seems he’s doing it to ground himself rather than to tease you. Or both. Guess he’s holding himself back just as much as you are.
“Oh, do tell.”
Your fingers brush again just barely against the skin of his stomach, raising a trail of goosebumps. There’s a hiss as Julian sucks in air between his teeth, trying to repress a shudder. After giving you a pointed glare for your sneak attack, he shakes the errant curls from his eyes and musters up a charming smile (what he thinks to be one at least, in your eyes it’s more roguely mischievous-looking than anything).
“Roses are red, violets are blue. Rhyming is hard…”
Snickering at his dramatic take on the poem’s beginning, you’re thrown off guard when he pulls you by the waist, leaving no space left between the two of you. Julian ducks his head down next to yours, breath ghosting across your ear.
“…like I am for you.”
His voice drops in pitch, a low and sultry whisper that leaves you flushed. Almost to accent his point, his hands move to pull your hips to grind against his and, sure enough, you feel the pressure of him against your lower stomach. Your fingers curl and cling at the soft fabric of his shirt, your mind fuzzy and overwhelmed by the press of him and the curl of his lips against your ear. Just when Julian’s sure that he’s won, another voice cuts in.
“LEMME SMASH! PLEASE?”
Both you and Julian freeze, whipping around to look at the top of the bookshelf where a certain bird’s nest is nestled. Malak stares back intently before preening his feathers, as if he’s playing innocent and acting like he didn’t just perfectly imitate Julian’s voice. Julian goes red, pacing toward the bookshelf and pointing his finger at Malak as if he’s scolding a child.
“Malak, you daft bird, you’re not supposed to say that when they’re here!”
Malak stops preening and stares blankly at him for a moment before imitating him again, causing Julian to go nuts. You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle a snort, but you can’t hold it back any longer and double over laughing. Through the welling tears in your eyes, you watch Julian frantically trying to shush Malak, who’s ignoring him completely and repeatedly imitating Julian’s voice with that phrase. You laugh harder, curling over the back of his couch. Julian slowly gives up trying and joins you, laughing at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. Once the laughter’s finally died down enough to function again, you notice one of Dragon’s little blue cat toys laying on the couch cushion below you and hold it up for Julian to see. He stares at you a moment before catching on, quickly pulling a stray stick from Malak’s nest despite the black bird’s squawk of protest. You both hold up your items for a moment before breaking out into laughter again. Julian places the stick back by Malak’s nest and strides over, pulling you over the back of the couch to plop in his lap. You laugh and snuggle against his chest as Julian leans back and curls his arms around you. He presses a kiss against your forehead, smiling against your skin, leaving you flushed and utterly happy.
The game ends in a draw, as it most often does, but neither of you care. You’re too lost in each other’s comfort.