It was a chilly day outside, quite predictable considering that it was very much winter at the time.

Jack woke early that morning, such a change of pace from his usual nine or ten o'clock awakenings that he was entirely thrown off. He lay awake for awhile before slowly fixing his gaze upon his bed-partner.

It was too early for even Chase to be awake and the everlord yet slumbered beside Jack, peaceful in the pre-sunrise hours. Jack watched him idly; blankly as they lie in bed together. He was simply taking in the sight.

Chase, as always, was beautiful this morning. His glimmering, golden eyes that'd been burned into Jack's memory were closed, his dark lashes fanned out upon high cheekbones; smudges of black on an otherwise perfect face. His mouth, to which Jack had many times pressed his own lips, was just barely open in sleep, allowing air to gust silently in and out of the dragonlord's body.

The familiar beauty of him was irresistible to Jack, and he reached out a hand to settle it upon his lover's chest. The man's golden skin was like silk beneath his palm's caress and the goth was given pause to realize that no contour on Chase's torso was unfamiliar to him.

At the touch, Chase was awake immediately, his warrior instincts demanding no less of him. He was surprised to discover that the touch was his lover's and that Jack was actually conscious so early in order to be giving it.

Nonetheless, he was in no mood to question it: his Jack was awake and touching him as one might touch a priceless, delicate object. Chase spared a moment for a languid stretch of his sleep-bogged form before reaching out a hand of his own, returning his beloved's slow, reverent touch. An amused grin took his lips when Jack instinctively shivered, his white flesh prickling with goosebumps where Chase's fingers had traced.

"Good morning," Chase greeted on a leisurely sigh, pulling the youth to him for the first of what would hopefully be many kisses that day. It was very early and neither of them had brushed their teeth, but an agreement had long ago been reached between them: morning breath kisses were acceptable so long as they both had it.

Jack took some time to reply, as if the words' journey to his mind had been slightly delayed. "Morning," he eventually answered.

The lapse did not trouble Chase any and he leaned in, gently nuzzling against Jack's cheek. The smooth skin was warm in the way only one who had just been sleeping could manage.

"Did you sleep well?"

Again, Jack took a moment to respond. "Yeah, I slept fine."

This time, Chase took notice.

"Are you still tired?" he asked.

Jack breathed slowly, eyes flickering briefly away from Chase. He looked at the bedroom; the pale blue walls; the lighting fixtures; the bedside table; the curtained window; the door leading to the adjoined bathroom.

He could draw a perfect picture of this room with his eyes closed. For that matter, he could flawlessly illustrate every other room in the palace, down to the smallest nooks and crannies.

Jack had learned just about every inch of this place, his home, long ago as he navigated it throughout his day. To the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth, to the wardrobe to pick out his attire, to the kitchen to assist feline warriors in making breakfast, to the dining room to eat breakfast, to the lab Chase had made for him to while away the hours inventing, back to the kitchen to assist with dinner, back to the dining room to eat dinner, to the bedroom to sleep.

And all over again the very next morning.

Jack shook his head as the reality of the routine hit him hard, remembering that Chase had asked him a question.

"No," he said, "I'm awake."

Chase frowned. The look in Jack's eyes was not one he cared for. It was blank; glazed over as if the youth's soul was not in his body and was instead somewhere very far away, only trumped in distance by the place in which his mind had taken up residence.

"Spicer," he said firmly, using his lover's surname to startle him back to the here and now, "what is wrong?"

The tactic worked and red eyes sharpened in awareness, the dull, empty shine of strawberry jelly reverting back to the hard, focused glitter of rubies.

Chase hadn't called him by his last name in years. The last time Jack had heard his second name from the dragonlord's lips had been well over a century ago.

"Nothing," he answered instinctively. "Nothing's wrong. I was just…thinking."

"About what?" Chase persisted. He didn't like seeing Jack this way; dazed and distant as if completely detached from the real world.

Jack hesitated: he didn't want to concern Chase with his thoughts. He was only being stupid.

Chase, however, appeared to know his lover as well as his lover knew him, for he demanded, "Humor me."

"I was…thinking," Jack repeated quietly. "About everything, I guess. We've been…together for a long time."

"Three-hundred and twelve years," Chase supplied. He was quite proud of the time period, for it was literally centuries longer than he had ever kept a lover; had ever wanted to keep a lover.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, confirming the years as truth. "But…I was thinking that…I know everything."

A sliver of something cold and black settled deep within Chase's heart. "…What do you mean by that?"

"I know everything," Jack reiterated. "I know everything about you: your body, your mannerisms, your personality. You know everything about me, too. There's no…surprises, anymore. There's nothing new for us to learn about each other, and I was just thinking…" He turned to Chase, dread in his eyes. "We're not…boring, are we?"

The cold, black something quivered and grew. "Why do you ask?" Chase sharply demanded. "Are you bored? Are you tired of me?"

There was no hesitation in Jack's response. "No," he said, only mildly surprised to discover it was the truth. "I'm not bored." In actuality, he doubted he could ever be bored of Chase, the beautiful, supernatural man who so firmly held his heart and soul captivated. "But…are you bored of me?"

"No," Chase likewise assured. "I will never bore of you." It was a bold statement for the dragonlord, for he had so often tired of previous consorts and lovers in a matter of months. It was no fault of his nor theirs: they were uninteresting in the extreme and could not hold his attention for any extended amount of time. Jack was different from them. He yet held Chase's interest though they had been with one another for quite some time, now.

He could honestly see himself spending many more centuries with Jack.

Jack was relieved to hear the assurance. He didn't want to be boring to the man that he loved, but…

"Then…if we're not boring…what are we?"

Chase was quiet, thinking the question over. What were they?

They were not new love, certainly; not anymore. Once upon a time, they had been new love: they had truly known so little about one another back then that every day, sometimes every hour brought a new discovery. Jack loved opera, Chase was talented at video games, they both loathed mustard…! Those days were sometimes like one big game, a fun activity to pass the time with the ultimate goal of acquainting themselves to one another.

That acquaintance had been accomplished. They knew each other inside and out and there were no longer any secrets kept between them. Their knowledge of each other was intimate, to the point that when Chase brought up an occasion that'd happened in the 1500-odd years of his life before Jack, the goth would at least vaguely recall having been told of it before. Chase knew Jack deeply, as well, and could more often than not predict his behavior in any given situation down to the nuance.

Did that make them boring? That they, as Jack had said, 'knew everything'?

No, it didn't.

If they were boring, they would be unhappy. If Chase was boring, Jack and his notoriously short attention span would've left for someone or something more interesting, perhaps even casting off the gift of eternal youth that'd been given him to pursue a mortal life. If Jack was boring, Chase wouldn't have wanted him around anymore; wouldn't have found any joy in his presence and might've revoked the gift he'd given, himself, and begun searching for a new lover to entertain him for a period.

That was not the case.

Their lives were predictable; their stories told and heard; their souls thoroughly known…

…but there was something soothing in that.

There was something reassuring in the familiar words and the usual behaviors, something calming in the recognized fit of their bodies and the well-known touches of hands and mouths. There was a measure of relief in the certainty that you had nothing to hide from your spouse, for they knew everything about you that there was to know and loved you, anyways. The whole thing was simply…

"Comfortable," Chase decided aloud. "That is what we are."

Jack considered it, testing the word on his tongue. "Comfortable…"

He liked it very much. It felt right.

A broad smile curved Jack's lips and he shifted beneath the covers of the bed that Chase and he had shared for more than three centuries, edging closer now to share an embrace.

"I love you, Chase," he confessed, not for the first or last time.

Chase returned the smile and then, the confession. "I love you, too, Jack." It would not be the last time he would say it, either.

The two of them, the couple that knew one another better than they knew themselves and loved it, settled back down amongst the bedding to sleep.

After all, it was still early and they had an eternity of being Not Boring waiting ahead of them.

~~~~~~~~ Back to Xiaolin Showdown ~~~~~~~~


This free website was made using Yola.

No HTML skills required. Build your website in minutes.

Go to and sign up today!

Make a free website with Yola