Chapter Text
The first week passes by oddly, entire days going by in the blink of an eye as he unpacks or drags out as he worries whether he should offer to watch something with Monty. He doesn’t know how to do this. He and Octavia were already friends when they moved in together, there had been no learning curve.
He knows that he and Monty get along, though. But that had only been in small chunks of time or over text. What if Monty gets tired of him? What if he’s too annoying? What if he’s assuming familiarity that isn’t there yet?
It all comes to a head when Monty catches him sneaking back into his room with dinner that day, a week after he had moved in.
Monty hadn’t been in the main room when Jasper had slipped into the kitchen so he thought that he’d be fine. But Monty is there when he turns around from the stove.
He freezes.
Monty glances over at him from where he’s fiddling with the TV.
“Hey, man. Figured you’ve been busy unpacking and stuff but, uh, if you’re free I was about to play some games if you wanna join?” Again, Monty’s voice does that thing where it rises in intonation, creating a question where it otherwise wouldn’t have been one. Jasper wonders why he does that. Who could deny those kind eyes and that sweet smile?
He has to swallow before answering, “Uh, Yeah, yeah, that’d be fun.”
Awkwardly, he perches on the other end of the couch, foregoing the first round of Mortal Kombat to eat.
He feels himself relaxing as he eats, listening to Monty swearing under his breath.
It’s after Monty loses that he feels brave enough to speak, tentatively broaching the subject of overpowered characters. Monty, who had been busy going over his stats, glances at Jasper just as his lips purse around a mouthful of noodles. Monty’s head jerks towards the screen again.
Jasper panics, wondering if he’s eating too messily; the fading sunlight from the windows is not enough for him to see the blush that had bloomed across Monty’s cheeks.
Before he can apologize, Monty speaks, answering his question. There is no disgust in his voice.
Jasper calms.
The conversation flows from there, naturally pausing when Jasper chews and when Monty is particularly focused.
Soon after, Jasper finishes his meal and has a controller thrust into his hands.
The rest of the tension melts away as he loses himself in the game and bouts shitty trash talk. There are long periods of time where neither speak, both focused on beating the other. The silence is not awkward, though; there is no need to keep up the conversation. Jasper finds contentment in the dim lighting, the only sounds coming from the game and aggressively smashed buttons.
It is rare for Jasper to find comfort in silence, often feeling the need to talk and talk and talk lest awkwardness settle in. He doesn’t feel that need now.
They finish playing when Jasper wins best of five—it had been best of three but Monty couldn’t let it go. Jasper has a fleeting thought that his pouting face and grumbling are adorable when the other boy loses again.
Jasper laughs, endeared with this competitive side of Monty, “No need to be a sore loser, b—uh bitch.” He’d almost called Monty baby . What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He can feel his breath speeding up, wondering if Monty had caught his stumble, hoping that he hadn’t.
But Monty only shoves at him, laughing. Jasper shoves back and then they’re having a slap fight on the couch. It’s ridiculous, it’s childish, it’s fun.
Their laughter only grows the longer they continue and then Jasper decides to make up for having so thoroughly thrashed Monty.
After the next shove from Monty, Jasper relaxes, letting himself flop over onto his side with the push, laughing as he falls, stretching out his legs and knocking shins with Monty.
They lay there, spread out and laughing so hard they can't feel their stomachs.
Slowly, their giggles calm. Jasper can’t remember what had been so funny, he knows it hadn’t been that hilarious, knows that neither had a reason to keep laughing. Distantly, he knows that this is what comfort and trust feel like; neither had ever come so easy before.
Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice Monty rummaging around in the drawer of the coffee table until the other slaps a hand onto his calf. This touch, too, is a comfort.
“C’mon, you’ve been here a week, it’s time for a celebratory joint.”
Jasper shoots back up from his slump, “Oh, fuck yeah! Give it here, my man.”
In his excitement, he doesn’t notice the way his fingers brush against Monty’s as he takes the baggies and papers and begins prepping.
Monty watches him, head coming closer until their breaths mingle together as Jasper works.
Jasper tenses at the proximity before relaxing into Monty’s presence as he works. He feels safe with Monty.
He hands Monty the first joint and quickly rolls one for himself before casting around for a lighter.
He finds it in Monty’s hand. He doesn’t reach for it, he’s about to ask but then Monty gestures with his hand, a silent question.
Jasper’s heart speeds up and he’s nodding before he can think about it.
Monty leans in close as he lights Jasper’s blunt, his fingers almost brush Jasper’s cheek. Jasper wants to lean into the touch. He doesn’t, instead taking a deep pull and leaning back into the couch cushions.
Monty follows suit.
They’re silent as they take their first few hits. It has yet to turn awkward, this silence. Jasper isn’t used to silence. But, here, in Monty’s presence, he could get used to it.
As they relax, they slump together until their shoulders lean against each other, their hands only a few inches apart. Jasper does not notice any of this, no longer is he hyper aware of Monty’s touch, instead relishing in these small connections that he is afforded. It feels like trust. He wants to be worthy of Monty’s trust.
He doesn’t know which of them break the silence but soft words that filter into the air as they begin to speak. The conversation is inconsequential, nothing of importance but Jasper’s addled mind finds reverence in the timber of Monty’s voice, in the warmth of his shoulder, and in his steady breath. He thinks he could lose himself in Monty’s presence.
Immediately, he shakes that thought from his mind, bringing his joint up to his lips as he tries to distract from that thought. It’s an odd thought, discomfiting in the depth it represents. The long way Jasper could fall down a rabbit hole, wrapping himself in Monty and all that he has to offer. He can’t do that, though. He can’t ruin this.
Monty is his roommate and friend. It’s odd to have such thoughts about friends.
He doesn’t realize that he’s lost himself to his thoughts, that it’s been a while since he spoke, having left Monty hanging.
He wouldn’t have realized this either if not for the touch of fingers to his wrist.
His eyes dart down to the connection, illuminated only by the table lamp—neither had wanted to get up to turn on the lights. He doesn’t dare look up at Monty as the other speaks, throat dry.
“I think I got you up past your bedtime. We should probably sleep anyway, I have work tomorrow.”
With that, Monty gets off the couch, turning to offer a hand to Jasper. Jasper stares at it, it would be rude not to take the hand but he wonders if that would be the touch that would shatter this strange mood he’s in.
He takes a breath, reaches out to find out.
Finds himself on his feet, dizzy but whole. He lets Monty lead him over to his room but he panics when Monty makes to enter the room. He can’t have Monty in his room, can’t find out what the other looks like surrounded by his things. He hopes that Monty would look like Jasper belongs but he doesn’t know what he would do if he does. Or if he doesn’t. He can’t find out.
He does what he does best, he makes a joke, “No need to tuck me in, my dude. I can handle it from here,” accompanied by a huff of laughter.
Monty chuckles before stepping back, now standing behind Jasper. Jasper can no longer see his face. “Okay, okay. I’m being a bit overbearing, got it.”
Jasper panics, that isn’t what he meant. He doesn’t want Monty to think he’s ungrateful.
He can’t stop himself from blurting out his immediate response, “Thank you!”
He takes a deep breath, tries again, softer, “Thank you. For tonight, and for being so friendly and welcoming. It's, it’s nice.”
He wonders what Monty’s face looks like, he can’t bring himself to look.
Monty’s voice is faint, “It’s no problem, man. I’m glad to have you.”
Jasper can’t stop the errant thought of you could have more, you could have all of me .
He clenches his mouth shut lest it escape, nodding in response to Monty and all but throwing himself through his bedroom door, just narrowly stopping himself from slamming it in Monty’s face.
As he strips, he thinks he should brush his teeth but he’s afraid to venture out, afraid that he’ll find Monty still in the main room.
Instead, he flops onto the bed, cocooning himself in his blanket. He’s asleep the moment he closes his eyes.
Jasper wakes with cotton mouth and vague memories of last night. Shit, Monty gets the good stuff.
He doesn’t think he did or said anything too embarrassing. He does remember a moment of wonder, of depth, and of warmth but he has no idea what it was about. He casts it aside, figures his addled mind was just being dramatic.
He gets on with his day.
The energy in the apartment shifts after that.
Jasper and Monty grow close together, hanging out together in the main room more often than not.
Jasper no longer feels tense or uncomfortable, no matter how close the two get.
There are a few occasions where they playfully flirt, usually when in the kitchen at the same time or when they’re smoking together.
This no longer freaks Jasper out. It’s just a part of their friendship.
There is only one strange event in their otherwise rapidly blossoming friendship. It happens when Jasper leaves the bathroom in just his towel.
Monty is in the main room, watering his many plants and he turns to look over his shoulder at the sound of the bathroom door opening and he just stares. He doesn’t say anything, eyes trailing down Jasper’s bare chest before he realizes what he was doing.
Jasper just stands there, hand gripping his towel, as Monty’s head snaps back around and he determinedly focuses on watering his plants.
Jasper slips into his room, resolving to bring his clothes into the bathroom with him. He doesn’t want to make Monty uncomfortable.
But, other than that, their lives together twine together smoothly.
Sometime into Jasper’s second week in his new home, the group gets together for a beach day.
Already, Jasper can see shifting dynamics when he invites Monty along as the other tentatively asks if he can invite Murphy and Emori. Jasper has no problem with that, though.
He doesn’t recognize the warmth that blooms in him when he thinks about the ways in which his and Monty’s lives are slowly connecting in new ways.
Beach day starts with a rush of excitement, windows rolled down, screaming lyrics and each car racing the other.
They manage to find a good spot and Bellamy and Raven start setting up the grill.
Jasper tries not to note the easy way Monty slots himself into that conversation when those two have trouble lighting the grill.
Even Murphy and Emori easily find space within the group but Jasper can’t say he feels entirely comfortable with the way Emori and Octavia are giggling together. Those two are up to something, he knows it.
It slips from his mind when Raven bounds over and tugs at him to get in the water, having left the grilling to Bellamy and Monty.
Jasper follows easily but he glances over his shoulder to see if anyone else is joining him. He finds Octavia whispering something to Lincoln and watches as the man makes his way over to the grill and shoos Monty away.
Before Monty can complain, Emori is there, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him towards the shore.
Jasper knows that they’re up to something, but he can’t figure it out. He watches as Octavia follows them, Luna, Clarke, and Murphy bringing up the rear. Jasper relaxes, the group is surely too big for them to try anything.
A pinch to his underarm has him jerking back around and letting out a curse.
He swears again when he hears Raven laugh. He glares at her, it only makes her snort.
“You’ve lived with Monty for like two weeks and you already can’t let him out of your sight, huh?”
“Huh?”
Raven glances at him, Jasper is sure she sees the confusion on his face because her smile drops a little. He doesn’t understand what she means. Sure, they’re friends but it isn’t as though Jasper’s dependent on him or anything.
Raven shakes her head a little. “I meant that Monty’s really sweet. It’s easy to get along with him, y’know?”
Jasper feels himself relax, yeah he gets that.
Their conversation comes to an end when Raven stumbles forward, Luna clinging to her back with a shriek.
Jasper can’t help but laugh as Raven clasps her hands under Luna’s thighs and runs the rest of the way to the water.
And then Octavia is by his side, hand slipping into his and they’re running too.
The water is refreshing, cool and a jolt to the system as they rush in.
The first few minutes are spent diving below and playfully splashing at each other as they wade deeper into the water.
Jasper forgets about Octavia and Emori whispering together but he shouldn’t have.
Maybe then he could have had the presence of mind to veto Octavia when she suggests that they play Chicken . And when she suggests that he and Monty pair up together.
Not that he doesn’t want to partner with Monty but there had to be a reason that she and Emori wanted them to partner up. He just doesn’t know what it is.
When he and Monty stare at each other, neither knowing who would be the base, he thinks that this is it. Octavia and Emori just want them to be comfortable with each other, both somehow having decided they were taking too long. God, Octavia’s always meddling.
A teasing remark from Murphy, “C’mon, lads, I wanna actually play a round before lunch,” spurs Jasper into offering to be the base and turning around, shoulders tense.
They sort themselves out as Monty clambers onto his shoulders, soft thighs around Jasper’s head.
A reminder from Monty has Jasper clasping his hands around Monty’s shins; his breath hitching at the skin to skin contact. He had been hesitating, unsure if the touch was unwelcome. His mind flashes back to Raven’s words, Monty is as welcoming as they come. But, Jasper doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to take something that Monty doesn’t want to give.
Monty’s hands don’t come down on his head, instead they land on Monty’s own thighs. This, Jasper notices. Even here, Monty does not want to take that which he hasn’t been given. It causes a strange feeling in Jasper’s stomach. He assumes it to be hunger.
And then Monty’s hands are coming up to brace against Raven and Luna’s sneak attack.
Jasper loses himself in the game as they wrestle and as he maintains his stance and grip. He and Luna exchange trash talk as Monty and Raven duke it out. All bets are off, though, when Raven tries tickling Monty.
With a cry of cheater , Monty surges forward and topples her from Luna’s shoulders.
“And the crowd goes wild,” crows Jasper, elation coursing through him.
Monty smiles down at him, easy as anything, “We make a good team!”
Jasper corrects him, “We make a great team, dude!”
This confidence sticks with them until Emori easily topples Monty from Jasper’s shoulders.
A comment from Murphy has the two of them both blushing and cussing him out. “Don’t worry about it, noobs, you’ll get on our level one day.”
Before Monty can retort, a shout from the shoreline grabs everyones’ attention.
It’s Lincoln, waving his arms and pointing to the grill. The food is ready.
Murphy’s comment forgotten, everyone races to the shore, ready to get first pick at the least burnt burger.
Lunch almost descends into a food fight when Clarke tosses a cucumber slice at Bellamy and it sticks to his forehead. He almost goes cross eyed trying to look at it. He gives up, instead peeling it from his forehead and making a show of popping it in his mouth.
Jasper laughs so hard he can feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He has to lean on Monty lest he keel over; Monty shoulders his weight with ease.
They play a few games of frisbee and beach volleyball after lunch. Jasper taps out of beach volleyball after falling on his ass for the upteenth time.
As he relaxes on the picnic blanket, his eyes catch on Monty’s where the other is playing frisbee. Jasper waves his hand, Monty waves back. He sees Monty say something to Raven before making his way over. That—hadn’t been his intention but he won’t say no to the company.
Monty flops down next to him, poking at the space where his t-shirt sleeve ends. “You should reapply, don’t want you going from Casper to Bob the Tomato.”
Jasper is still trying to formulate a retort while Monty reaches into his bag and grabs the sunscreen, waving it in a silent question.
Jasper sticks his arms out in response and lets Monty get to work.
Absent-mindedly, he follows the movement of Monty’s hands with his eyes. Monty has nice hands, he can’t help but admire the contrast between their skin tones. Monty seems to absorb the sunlight where he burns.
He wonders if he should offer to do the same for Monty but the other is already squeezing out more sunscreen to slap onto his own legs.
Instead, Jasper asks if Monty wants to go explore the sand dunes. He hopes that’s not weird to ask, especially since it’s just the two of them.
Monty’s enthusiastic response quells his worry.
Flip flops in hand, they slip away from the group, not bothering to tell the others where they’re going. It’s their own private adventure.
They wander the dunes, walking side by side, shoulders occasionally brushing together.
They climb the highest of the dunes, sitting shoulder to shoulder and watching the waves lap at the shore. It’s peaceful.
Turning his head, Jasper makes to speak but is distracted by a bead of sweat running down Monty’s neck. He follows it’s trail until it reaches the neck of Monty’s tank top.
His eyes glance up at Monty’s face, the other is still looking out over the waves.
Swallowing roughly, Jasper is grateful that the other hasn’t noticed. He distracts himself from it by offering up a race, first to the bottom of the dune.
He knows Monty won’t turn it down, knows now of the other boy’s competitive side.
He toys with the idea of letting Monty win but ultimately, he lets his long legs carry him to victory. The pout on Monty’s face is his own private prize. Only because he loves seeing how comfortable his new friend is with him, of course. No other reason.
It’s Monty that suggests they make their way back to others, lest they start to get worried.
On their way back, they play a game of 20 questions.
By unspoken agreement, the questions remain light. They learn about each other’s favourite animes and video games, first broken bones, and future plans. They learn how alike they are and poke fun at their differences.
Jasper can’t help but think that this would make a great date. It’s a nice way to spend the afternoon, exploring dunes and getting to know each other. He doesn’t mention this to Monty, though, he doesn’t want to make the other boy feel awkward.
There is one incident of outrage when they get into a heated debate on pineapple on pizza but they agree to drop it when Monty vehemently declares that any pizza they get in the future will be half and half. With that, they come to a truce.
By then, they can see the rest of the group.
Slyly, Jasper suggests another race. He can’t help the laugh that escapes when Monty shoots him a withering glare. “You’re a sore winner, you know that? You just never know when to stop.”
“Why stop when there’s more to be had?”
“Greedy, huh?”
“It’s not greed when it’s meant to be yours.”
Something shifts, Jasper doesn’t know what. The air between them is charged, almost as if he’d just laid down another challenge. He doesn’t know what the challenge could be, though.
They’ve stopped walking. Monty is staring at him with intense eyes, scrutinizing.
Jasper swallows, unsure of what Monty is looking for. Unsure if he wants Monty to find it.
He’s about to find out when Monty opens his mouth but before he can speak, Raven’s voice breaks the tension between them.
Both their heads snap over to stare at her. She’s standing with her arms on her hips, mouth twisted, almost as if this isn’t the first time she’s called them.
Embarrassed, they make their way over in silence. Jasper wants to know what Monty was going to say but it doesn’t seem as if the other is going to speak.
He drops it.
And as they merge back into the group, he loses himself in the conversation and snacks so that he may forget it.
Dinner is made of hotdogs and ribs, Monty bounding over to help Bellamy before anyone else can.
Neither boy speaks to the other for the rest of the night. Jasper figures Monty also feels awkward.
As the group sits around the bonfire, the two keep sneaking glances at each other before their eyes dart away. No one else notices, though; they’re all preoccupied with their conversations and their partners.
Eventually, they have to call it a night. As they pack up, Jasper wonders if he’s already ruined his friendship with Monty. He wishes he knows just what he did, though. It makes his heart ache. Somehow, he always finds a way to fuck up.
Monty proves him wrong. Of course. He’s always a surprise.
On the way home, Monty leans his head on Jasper’s shoulder, dozing.
Jasper stares down at him fondly, this touch is a truce and an offering. It is not forgiveness, somehow Jasper knows that Monty doesn’t think there is anything to forgive.
Neither mention that strange tension again.
They fall into a routine, after that.
Most days, they flit around each other’s work schedules.
Monty tosses cereal bars at Jasper before he leaves, with a constant reminder that, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” in a sing-song voice.
More often than not, Jasper will have to ask Monty if he has his work I.D. on him.
There is an ease to living with Monty that hadn’t been there with Octavia. It’s strange, given that he’s known Octavia much longer. But Monty is just so easy to get along with.
There are no arguments about chores or who’s turn it is to pick up milk. Monty is a considerate roommate.
They usually eat dinner together, Monty showing Jasper the cookbook his mom had given him when he moved out.
Most nights, they hang out together: Jasper teaches Monty how to bake, they binge Onepiece , they cycle through video games.
It feels like home.
There are a few other get togethers throughout the summer.
They all go hiking one day. Jasper can’t help but marvel at the wondrous look in Monty’s eyes as he points out different flowers and trees. There is so much passion hidden under his shy demeanour.
One night, the group goes out for karaoke. Monty absolutely refuses to sing, no matter how much Murphy and Emori needle him. It is only when Jasper offers to duet with him that he gets on stage. Jasper can’t help but marvel at the smile on Monty’s face as their friends cheer him on.
Another night, they all go out for dinner. It ends with Jasper cheering Monty on as Monty and Murphy compete over who has the highest spice tolerance. Jasper can’t help but marvel at the red that dusts Monty’s cheeks as the spice gets to him. Monty doesn’t let that stop him from winning, though.
Throughout all these get togethers, Jasper learns more about Monty, sliding these pieces into place next to that which he learns about the other in private. It paints a picture of a whole, multifaceted being. It fascinates Jasper.
There is one day, late afternoon, when Jasper cannot find Monty in the apartment. He knows that the other doesn’t have work and Monty hadn’t said anything about going out.
Jasper finds him on the fire escape, blunt in hand and Chinese takeout on the sill next to him.
With a tilt of his head, Monty silently invites him out.
Once Jasper is settled, Monty offers up the blunt, Jasper takes it. He wonders after Monty’s behaviour, the other seems almost melancholic. He can’t stop himself from prodding.
“Everything, uh, everything alright?”
Monty takes the blunt back from him, drawing in a hit before replying, “It’s, it’s the anniversary of my dad’s death.”
Jasper’s breath leaves him. He’s never been good with death, never been good at the gentle comforting it requires. His preferred methods of cheering others up and cracking jokes never really landed well.
He edges closer to Monty, stomps down his knee jerk reaction to crack a small joke. Instead, he leans against Monty, offers him his strength as he casts around for something to say, eyes trailing over the skyline. He does not look at Monty, does not want to pry.
Finally, he offers a tentative question, an opening, “Tell me about him?”
And Monty does. He speaks of nature walks and star gazing. He speaks of petting zoos and homework at the dining table. He speaks of chemistry puns and science fairs, he skims over the accident and the pain but Jasper learns about it all the same.
As he speaks, he paints a whole life, letting Jasper grow up with him and giving Jasper an insight into his very being. Jasper learns where Monty gets his kindness and his tenacity from, he learns of an inquisitive mind and scraped knees, he likes what he learns. He’s honoured to have this insight.
As Monty speaks, they pass the blunt back and forth, neither realizing that this is the first time they shared one. It is a boundary they cross without thought.
When Monty pauses for just a little too long, Jasper tentatively offers up a story of his mom, he speaks of sitting on the island and watching as she baked. He speaks of the first time he joined her in baking, of how it ended up with flour smeared across nose and a small, flour handprint on his mom’s cheek.
Monty offers another story after this, one of both his parents; it is the story of how he learned to ride a bike.
They go back and forth, trading stories just as they trade the blunt.
Jasper very carefully does not mention the way his dad was rarely around, busy working long shifts and hustling for a better life. He’s sure Monty hears the story in what he doesn’t say and connects the dots.
By the time they fall silent, their voices have long since run hoarse with all the talking and the sun is in the midst of setting. They’ve been out here for hours.
Neither has chanced a look at the other. But as the silence drags out, Jasper shifts, turns his head and looks at Monty in the fading sunlight.
Monty turns his head and meets his gaze with a small smile.
Jasper can’t help but admire the warmth of his skin in the light, can’t help but admire the way his eyes alight a beautiful gold in the sunset.
His admiration is cut short by Monty’s voice. If he had more presence of mind to comb over their interactions, he’d find that Monty is constantly taking him out of his head, anchoring him in the moment with easy grace. He doesn’t have the presence of mind to notice this.
“Thank you,” this is said softly, a secret and a confession and a prayer whispered into the air between them.
Jasper has to close his eyes against the stinging wetness it brings. Opening them, he stares at Monty, unable to bring himself to brush it off; he can feel the weight of the words, knows this is important to the other.
He offers Monty a gentle smile, “Anytime.”
He makes to get up, to offer Monty a moment of privacy but the other shoots to his feet after him.
Jasper pauses, doesn’t comment on it, instead sliding back into the apartment and turning to offer his hand to Monty. It’s a reversal of that night the first time they got high together but he wouldn’t know.
What he does know is that this is the first time they’ve spoken of anything of true depth. It is a precious moment.
The look in Monty’s eyes says that he knows this too. Neither comment on it.
They end the night in front of the TV, watching animated movies, neither talking except for commentary.
When they part ways to sleep, it is with a deeper understanding of the other.
Neither mention that night again.
They have a silent understanding after that, a new routine.
Anytime either of them feel down, they’ll find themselves on the balcony, sitting side by side, gazing out over the city as they share a blunt between themselves.
Sometimes they speak, sometimes they don’t. Regardless, Jasper can’t help but feel safe, he hopes Monty feels safe too.
There’s one evening, halfway through the summer when they’re eating together that Monty suddenly slams his spoon down.
Jasper stares, his own fork frozen halfway to his mouth. “Soooo?”
There is a strange intenseness in Monty’s eyes, “I haven’t taken you thrifting, yet! We have to fix this, immediately. What are you doing tomorrow? You better say nothing.”
Abortedly, Jasper shakes his head. “No, no, I’m good to—do that.”
He’d completely forgotten about Monty’s offer to go thrifting that very first time he visited.
“Good, good. Tomorrow then,” Monty’s voice is imperious, like this is a matter of the highest importance.
It’s endearing. He’s the cutest friend Jasper has. That—that’s a weird thought to have. Before Jasper can dwell on it, though, Monty continues speaking, planning out the next day and letting Jasper know which stores they’d hit.
Jasper loses himself in Monty’s voice.
The next day is spent walking downtown, arm in arm as they try on clothes and flit from aisle to aisle.
One store has a furniture section and Monty has to physically drag Jasper away from the bright yellow armchair he finds.
In retribution, Jasper follows him around the rest of the store, puppy dog eyes dialed all the way up. He knows no one can resist them. Except, apparently, Monty.
Monty makes up for it with curly fries.
They both end up with a few good finds: Monty had gotten a pair of chords and a few button down shirts, Jasper had picked up a cool art print and a distressed jean jacket, they’d both gotten jeans, and Jasper had convinced Monty to grab a few graphic tees.
All in all, it was a successful day of shopping.
The day ends with dinner at a sushi bar, their feet nudging together as they try to avoid kicking their bags.
It’s nice. It’s the kind of day that Jasper will cherish as a good memory. He knows that when he looks back on it, it’ll be filtered with joy, softened around the edges, hazy with heat and love.
He almost chokes on his sushi. Panicking, he waves Monty’s concern off as he chugs down his water.
His mind is racing. Love? Yeah, he loves Monty as a friend but the way that thought had crossed his mind, that was more than friendship.
He can’t—he doesn’t—he shouldn’t. He focuses on the sushi. He focuses on the mechanics of bringing it up to his mouth, of chewing, of swallowing. He focuses on his body so that he may forget the thoughts rushing through his mind. He can’t ruin this friendship. He can’t.
He’s sure Monty notices the change in behaviour, he can see the furtive concerned glances that Monty throws his way. But Monty doesn’t ask. Monty is too polite, too considerate, too sweet to ask. He won’t push, he never pushes.
Inhaling deeply, Jasper glances down at his plate then at Monty’s.
He smiles, mischievous, and snags a piece from Monty’s plate, crowing in triumph at the gasp of betrayal that Monty lets out.
This is good, he just needs to distract himself.
With that, he asks Monty about his course selections for next year, both as a distractor and because he’s genuinely curious about the other’s courses and schedule.
He’s tempted to foot the whole bill but that would be odd. Instead, they split the bill and then begin their walk back home. They walk in silence. It is the first time that awkwardness bleeds in.
Once home, Jasper all but darts inside his room. He can’t face Monty, afraid that the longer he stays in Monty’s presence the more likely he’ll be to blurt out this new realization.
That night, he lays awake and mulls over the summer. All that time together with Monty has led to a kaleidoscope image of the beautiful boy. He is kind and he’s passionate. He has a beautiful smile and skin that burnishes bronze in the sunlight. His eyes sparkle like pools of molten gold in the sunlight, and are just as beautiful when they’re deep and dark and understanding. Not brooding, never brooding. The depth of his eyes feels like a warm hug.
Jasper has been able to see Monty at his most vulnerable and at his happiest. He’s seen Monty in public, in front of friends and strangers, but he’s also seen Monty curled up in a blanket burrito at 2am and with ruffled bed head in the early morning.
He knows what Monty looks like when he’s stressed, when he’s lost in thought, when he’s high and more. He’s experienced Monty throughout all of this. He loves what he’s come to know about the other.
There is an intimacy to what he knows. An intimacy to sharing secrets and falling asleep together on the couch. A crack of an opening of a stained glass door through casual touches and that unconscious awareness of where the other is in the kitchen.
He knows he can’t tell Monty but that doesn’t stop him from clinging to the thought of his love as he falls asleep.
The next week passes in a haze of avoidance and worry. He tiptoes around Monty, unable to face him, making up excuse after excuse.
He doesn’t want to ruin this friendship, doesn’t want to have to go looking for a new place to live already. He’s worried that he’s the problem, this is the second roommate that he’s somehow fucked up with and he has no idea how to fix it other than running away. Running away is all he knows. It's all he’s good for.
He would have continued avoiding Monty, content to let his feelings die down enough to bury before slowly reprising their old routines. He had thought that Monty would let him go; the other so rarely pushes.
Jasper thinks he’s safe. He is wrong.
It all comes to a head a week after that realization in that sushi bar.
Monty knocks at his bedroom door.
Jasper stares at that door, a flitting thought that if he ignores it Monty will go away. He doesn’t, he knocks again.
It seems Monty does know how to push.
Jasper opens his door but he doesn’t let Monty in. He can’t. He can’t know what Monty looks like in his private space. It would ruin him, he’d never want Monty to leave again.
Leaning against the door jamb, he stares at the other. He doesn’t know what to say.
Monty will have to push more if he wants him to. He hopes he doesn’t, though. He’s not sure what he will say.
“Video games?”
Two words he hadn’t expected. Dumbfounded, he nods and follows Monty into the main room. Distantly, he watches as Monty sets up the controllers and loads the game.
Monty doesn’t ask him anything, doesn’t mention his behaviour; he just hands him his controller and they begin to play.
One game goes by, then another, with each round Jasper can feel himself relaxing. Monty just makes it so easy to feel at home, to feel safe, to feel comfortable. Monty calms him in a way that no one else ever has.
Sometime into the fifth round, Monty prods him with a question, inconsequential and light, it bleeds the last of the tension from Jasper’s shoulders and he loses himself in the game and conversation.
Maybe he should be careful, though. He should keep some distance, but Monty’s presence just makes it so hard. He’s never been so comfortable with anyone else before.
He’s so relaxed, so caught up in the moment, that he can’t stop the victory cry he lets out when he wins the next round, nor can he contain his exclamation, “Look at me go, babe!”
He doesn’t realize what he’s said at first, too caught up in his victory but the silent stillness of Monty has him glancing over at where the other is staring at him.
He pauses, reviews what he just said, feels his hands go numb as his face flushes red. He fucked up. He fucked up big time.
“I—uh—I mean, like, y’know, um—shit. Not, not ‘babe’ like that—”
Eloquent as always.
He drops his controller and clutches his head in his hands as he tries to come up with an excuse or to play it off. He can’t.
Monty is still staring.
A touch to his wrist has him glancing up.
Slowly, Monty pulls his hand away from his head and twines their fingers together. Jasper stares at their intertwined hands.
He short circuits. He doesn’t understand. Why is Monty touching him? Why is Monty offering him comfort? Hadn’t he just made Monty uncomfortable? Shouldn’t Monty be fleeing, playing it off, setting boundaries? Anything but touching Jasper, especially so intimately.
Swallowing, he glances back up at Monty, watches as he wets his lips before speaking.
Monty pushes.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
Jasper stares, paralyzed.
Monty pushes one more time.
“Well, uh, I have something to tell you,” he leans in close, “I like when you call me ‘babe’. I like what it implies.”
Jasper stares.
Monty continues, “I—uh, if you want, you can call me ‘babe’ and mean it ‘like that’. We can make those implications true.”
Jasper has never noticed his bravery before. It makes him fall in love a little bit more.
It’s his turn to be brave.
“I’d, uh, I’d like that a lot, babe,” he inhales, gathers his courage, speaks, “Can I kiss you?”
Monty is nodding before he’s finished the question.
He leans forward and slots their lips together. It feels like coming home.