Basil smiled, and was about to climb onto his back when he hesitated. He hadn't expected Jace to actually agree to this risky, absolutely ridiculous request of his; Jace was about as worrisome as his dad, and that was saying a lot. Not only that, he'd imagined this to play out...differently.
For the last couple of years, Jace had been that friend that he'd thought he'd been okay without; before him, there were only chores and books. He'd embraced the knowledge of the old, without realizing that there was so much to be learned from the people around him. Perhaps it hadn't been entirely his fault. After all, most here weren't willing to accept him. In the last few weeks, a few had dropped off baskets of food or even spoken with him, urging him to get well soon. But that was only the conjuration of guilt. It wasn't genuine concern for his health and happiness. It wasn't anything like the misery that his dad and Jace felt. Not that he wanted them to be sad, but...he wanted to be missed, however selfish that sounded.
Jace was deserving of a greater title than "best friend," one that had been secretly bestowed upon him a long time ago. But he wasn't going to mention that now, for it wouldn't serve, well, anything. It'd be empty. No, it'd be hollow. It'd be there, but it'd only ever be a void for Jace to look into after he was gone, wondering why in the world he had waited only until it was too late to mention such things. Or, in a worse situation, he'd hate him for it. No, if it was only to pretend, then Basil would take this single night and treasure it for all and more than it was worth. It'd be their special night, just the two of them and the stars and other romantic things that he wasn't good at thinking up.
Finally, he sighed softly and situated himself upon Jace's back, wrapping his arms around him in as tight a grasp as he could muster. He then asked, "Are you sure about this, Jace?"