Spades

Chapter 5

"How?"

"I don't know," John answered for what felt like the hundredth time. "I was born with both symbols, so my parents locked me up and pretended I didn't exist."

"But...how?" John huffed and threw his arms in the air. Fitz backed off and raised his own arms in surrender, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry but...this is impossible! I mean a diamond and a spade...wow."

John looked away, a shadow passing over his face. Jaren bit his lip in thought before standing suddenly. Fitz gave him a startled look, but Jaren ignored it and the heat rising to his cheeks.

"Can I talk to John a little bit...alone?" It was silent for a moment as Daithe and Terroriser shared a look, then John nodded once, motioning for Jaren to lead the way. He sent one look to the boys standing behind John and only got smiles in return.

They walked for a few minutes in silence, Jaren subconsciously leading them to his wood carving clearing. John looked around the forest in wonder, then squealed in delight when they finally arrived.

The clearing was surrounded by dense forest and covered in a bed of flowers. Daisies, tulips, sunflowers. The sound of a trickling stream traveled to their ears, adding to the serenity.

"This place is beautiful!" John sat on the rock Jaren usually sat on. He suddenly wished he could take a picture of this moment, John sitting on his rock caressing a patch of vibrant tulips. He looked so beautiful and happy.

"I thought you could use a break from the interrogation." John smiled appreciatively and began to stick flowers as he went, giggles joining the sound of the stream. "I found this place when I was little and we first set up camp."

John tilted his head, hair shifting across his shoulders. Jaren saw the spade tattoo peaking out from behind the sheet of white hair and yearned to push it aside. Without thinking his fingers pushed the hair away and brushed the warm skin there. John tensed and Jaren realized what he was doing.

"Holy shit! I'm so sorry I-" his voice caught in his throat John reached back and stopped his hand from pulling away. He used his free hand to brush away the last few strands of hair away then pressed Jaren's palm to the raised marking.

"Tell me about yourself Smitty." The breeze whistled through the trees and Jaren had to remember how to breathe. It was such an intimate moment and it was sending shivers down his spine.

He pressed the pad of his thumb to John's spade and tried to calm his wildly beating heart. He wet his lip and ran his fingers over the warm skin. His stomach fluttered when John shivered and his cheeks turned that beautiful shade of pink.

"Both my parents were spades. My brother and I were raised in this camp. I've never actually been to the city." John still loosely held his arm, index finger softly rubbing his inner wrist. Jaren gulped, wrapping his fingers around the back of John's neck, shielding the spade from view. John's head lolled back and he let out a chocked noise. "I grew up dreaming about the city, then I learned what they do to people like me...like us."

"Maybe one day we'll live in a world where none of this matters. We can walk through the city together and not have to worry about soldiers or...or..." He spun around suddenly, taking Jaren's hand in his own. He looked up, eyelashes fluttering. "Smitty, I know this may be a lot to ask and if I'm being too forward, pleas for the love of god, stop me, but... When that day comes, will you take me to the city and walk through the streets?"

Without thinking, he'd been very impulsive lately, Jaren squatted down and captured John's lips in his own. They stayed that way for a moment, then Jaren pulled back to murmur against John's shining and swollen lips.

"Call me Jaren," John's eyes sparkled and Jaren grinned, preparing to swoop in for another kiss, "and yeah, I will."

Jaren had never been big into soulmates, Fitz had told him a long time ago that only Hearts actually had soulmates, and they were quit rare. But Jaren was beginning to believe that that wasn't all true.

Because, as he lay in the grass, subconsciously itching at his burning wrist and peppering John's pale face with kisses, he thought he may have found his.