“It’s getting pretty long,” David says.

“Gonna cut it soon,” Jake says, and David feels like protesting, though he’s not sure why. It doesn’t suit Jake, really. It looks better when it’s short. Still.

He tucks a lock of Jake’s hair behind his ear, the one that always seems to spring loose, get in his eyes. “The picnic was nice,” he says.

“Shit news about the weather,” Jake says, and David hums agreement, though he actually prefers it this way. They could hardly do this in public. “Okay for your first picnic?”

“Pretty good,” David says, and when he leans down to kiss Jake, he tastes like the chocolate David didn’t touch, sweeter like that, a taste of it without cheating on his nutrition plan.

“That’s good,” Jake says, or at least David thinks so, the words more an impression against his lips than anything else, and then, thankfully, he stops talking. Not that David minds him talking, he’d just prefer, well — this. It’s also something familiar, something they’ve done before, but at the same time David’s immediately overwhelmed by it, how kissing Jake can feel like coming back to something but also feel completely new.

“We shouldn’t,” Jake says against his mouth, and this one David’s more sure of, because he rolls away, sits up, suddenly too far away. His mouth is wet, pink, and David can’t stop staring at it. He wants to bridge the distance again, but isn’t entirely sure he’s allowed. He’s out of his depth, here. He always seems to be, with Jake.

They’re kissing again, and David doesn’t know who leaned into who, whether it was him or Jake, but he doesn’t think it matters. David feels lit up, almost fizzy — possibly from the champagne, but then, he didn’t have enough to explain the feeling.

“I should go,” Jake says, pulling away and knocking his forehead against David’s when David tries to pull him back into another kiss.

“You don’t have to,” David says, rather than what he wants to say. Pleading is pathetic. David doesn’t want to be pathetic.

“No, I do,” Jake says. “New beginnings, remember? Taking things slow.”

David didn’t know that when he was toasting to new beginnings, he was toasting to Jake leaving his apartment with nothing more than a few chaste kisses. They’ve already done everything, so it isn’t like it makes a difference if they do it again. He thinks they were doing it right the first time. Or maybe not, maybe Jake’s right, but he still doesn’t want Jake to leave.

He bites his lip so he doesn’t say anything, feeling faintly gratified by the way he can see Jake’s eyes drift to his mouth, like he wants to stay as much as David wants him to.