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The hiatus had already taken an immense amount of pressure off Jimmy’s shoulders. He felt like he could breathe again, for the first time in a long time. Hanging out with Rowan and Lister without the pressure of everything reminded him so much of the early days, when they were just excited to be together, binded by their love of music.
It also allowed Jimmy to think of other things. Things he would rather not be thinking about. Like the times he helped Lister change his bandages after the accident. It had become a routine for them. Everyday, they’d sit in Lister’s bedroom and Jimmy would carefully peel off the plaster. He’d clean the wound, then put another plaster on. Rowan offered to help as well, having them be on alternating schedules, but Jimmy said that wasn’t necessary. Rowan didn’t argue. He just gave Jimmy a look, like he knew the reason behind it all, even though Jimmy didn’t know it himself at the time.
It was only a few days into the routine that he truly realized. Lister had just finished giving his spiel on how he can change his bandages on his own, followed by Jimmy telling him it was better if someone else did it for him, if he did it for him. Lister would always roll his eyes at that, but would eventually give up and sit back, letting Jimmy do what he needed to do.
It was quiet that day. Usually, they talked about whatever came to mind. Lister never could stand a quiet room. However, that day was different. There was no casual talk about the show Lister was obsessed with or the book Jimmy had recently picked up. It was just… silent. Jimmy looked up at Lister after he finished, hoping to see the cause of all that silence. Lister was on his phone, smiling down at something.
Lister’s smile was always something Jimmy liked about him. Not the one he put on for fans or the one he flashed at cameras for photoshoots, but his real, unthinking smile. It was nice to know that he was one of the only people who got to see it, one of the only people who got it directed at them.
Jimmy finished up what he was doing. Lister looked up at him after a few seconds.
“All done?” he asked.
Jimmy nodded. “All done.” He held back the urge to ask about what Lister was doing on his phone that had him that distracted. He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering though. They flicked to the phone and back to Lister’s face before he could even think about it.
Lister turned to see what Jimmy had looked at before their eyes met again. “I was just texting someone,” he explained.
“Anyone special?” Jimmy asked, trying to ignore his quickening heartbeat.
Lister smiled that well-known smile again. “No one as special as you, Jim-Jam,” he teased.
A tension released in Jimmy’s chest. They laughed together, the air around them less static than before. Everything went back to normal after that, but Jimmy couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling that crawled up his throat for just a moment when he thought Lister had found something else.
Jealousy.
~
The thing about having a crush on Lister Bird is that it’s very hard to move on from. No matter how hard someone might try, Lister always manages to pull them back in by just being his ridiculous, endearing self. This was proven one day when Jimmy caught him in the kitchen, balancing on his crutches as he tried to scramble some eggs with the stove turned on way too hot. The smell of burnt toast filled the air and Jimmy, in his just-woken-up state, was having trouble comprehending what exactly was happening.
“Damn, you’re up,” Lister said once he’d spotted him standing there.
Jimmy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Erm,” He ran a hand through his bed head. “I was trying to, er, make you breakfast in bed.”
Jimmy let out a breath of a laugh. “For what?”
“For, you know, helping me with my plasters and stuff,” Lister said softly, not meeting Jimmy’s eyes. “Not doing a very good job of it though, am I.”
“Not particularly.” Jimmy made his way over to Lister’s side, carefully taking the pan of now burnt scrambled eggs out of his hand. “Go sit down before you hurt yourself even more.”
“But—”
“Listen, if you rip your stitches, I’ll be stuck with you even longer. I’ll just make us some cereal or something.”
Lister didn’t move. He stared at Jimmy for a moment, something unreadable on his face.
“What?” Jimmy asked after a couple of seconds. The silence had stretched on for too long. Jimmy hated silences sometimes. They often led to him overthinking about things. About how Lister got up early, despite hating mornings, just to make Jimmy breakfast. About how he had to balance on his crutches and hobble around to get the ingredients and mix everything up. The gesture, as much of a disaster as it turned out, tugged at Jimmy’s heartstrings.
“Nothing,” Lister said. “I can make the cereal. At least I won’t be able to burn that.”
Jimmy shook his head. “Just sit down.”
As he prepared their bowls, he couldn’t help but look over at Lister, sitting at their breakfast bar. The boy was already watching him. He gave Jimmy a small smile. Jimmy smiled back. It was normal. Everything was normal.
“I’m still gonna find a way to pay you back, just you wait,” Lister said as Jimmy sat down to eat.
Jimmy chuckled lightly. “Looking forward to it.”
Little moments like that kept happening over the course of their hiatus. Jimmy and Lister would be hanging out, sometimes with Rowan, sometimes without, and Jimmy would feel this fluttering in his gut, this pounding in his chest. Lister would be helping him organize his CD collection or helping him with his t-shot (a task Lister thought was suitable enough to finally pay Jimmy back), and Jimmy would just look at him as if he was seeing him for the first time.
Jimmy always knew Lister was attractive. You couldn’t look at the boy without noticing that. But Jimmy never thought he was attracted to Lister, he never had the time to think about it with their rising fame and everything else going on. Hell, Rowan knew before Jimmy even realized it. He knew when hiatus started and when Jimmy started to push down his feelings.
One day, Rowan was alone with Jimmy, working out some lyrics in the kitchen while Lister was taking a nap. They had been quiet for quite some time, scribbling away on their separate notepads, both stuck on one particular section of the song, when Rowan suddenly stopped. He let his pencil fall out of his hand. It rolled across the bar, stopping right in front of Jimmy. Jimmy looked up, confused.
“Why haven’t you told Lister you like him yet?” he asked, completely out of the blue.
Jimmy sputtered for a moment. “I— what? I don’t— It’s not—”
“You can save all that. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him recently and he obviously likes you back. What good is pining gonna do you?” Rowan sat back in his seat, crossing his arms.
Jimmy sighed. There was no lying to Rowan. They could always read each other like that, ever since they became friends. “It just… it doesn’t feel right, to tell him now, after all this time. I don’t want him to think I’m pitying him or anything.”
“He won’t think that,” Rowan said.
“But what if he does? I don’t want to mess anything up. We’re all still recovering, you know? Him more than anyone. I just…”
Rowan furrowed his eyebrows and leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “Okay, I get it. But between you and me, I don’t think there’s a time limit on this, for either of you.”
Jimmy looked back down at his paper, inhaling, exhaling. “Yeah.” He rolled Rowan’s pencil back to him. “Maybe.”
~
But all of that was months ago. Now, Lister has his cast off. His wound healed nicely. Therapy has been working its magic, for all of them. They’re getting their rhythm back, one day at a time.
When the day finally comes, it’s like they feel it in the air.
“Jam sesh?” Rowan suggests.
Jimmy and Lister can’t help but grin.
The last one they had was when they were all at Jimmy’s grandpa’s house. It’s been so, so long since they really, properly did this. Much too long, in Jimmy’s opinion. Having that guitar back in his hands, with his friends around him, their instruments at the ready, it was like they were born to do this.
And they’re doing this for themselves, because they want to, because it makes them happy. No one can take that away from them. At least, not in this moment.
They start playing. Jimmy gives it everything, looking back at his friends to see if they’re doing the same. Rowan is at the keyboard, totally lost in the sound. His head is back, his eyes are closed. He’s hitting the keys like they’re an extension of his body. Lister hits his drums, twirling his sticks in the air with the biggest smile on his face. It makes Jimmy miss a note. Rowan looks over at him, but Jimmy locks eyes with Lister, unable to tear his gaze away. That is, until Rowan lets out a laugh. Then, they’re laughing and Jimmy thinks it should always be like this, the three of them, laughing and playing music.
Not a care in the world.
But everything has to end. Eventually, they get tired. They haven’t played like this in a long time. They don’t have the endurance for it as they once did. Hopefully, it’ll build up over time, but for now, Jimmy is content to go to sleep early.
In fact, they all go to bed early, saying goodnight to each other in the hallway. Jimmy and Lister linger for a bit before heading their separate ways. It doesn’t take long after Jimmy falls asleep that he’s up again. When he checks the time, it’s almost two in the morning. Going to sleep early definitely has its downfalls. He tries to close his eyes again, tries to drift back off again, but after twenty minutes, Jimmy can’t stand the feeling of his own bed anymore.
So, he gets up. Maybe by the time he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen, he’ll be tired again. Even if he doesn’t, it’s not like he has to be up early the next day.
Perks of being on break.
When he gets to the living room, all thoughts of that glass of water are pushed from his mind. Instead, he focuses in on Lister, who’s sitting on the couch, watching High School Musical of all things. Jimmy tries not to laugh, but a small breath of air comes out anyway. Lister’s head snaps in Jimmy’s direction, jumping a little at the noise.
“God, you scared me,” he says.
Jimmy attempts to tamp down his smile. “Sorry.” They stare at each other for a moment. Jimmy breaks their eye contact and gestures to the TV. “So… why are you watching this at two in the morning?”
“Er, cuz it’s a classic?” Lister replies. “Also because I couldn’t sleep. I think this whole ‘going to sleep early’ thing is a scam.”
“You’re probably right,” Jimmy says as he makes his way to sit beside Lister. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
When Jimmy looks over, Lister’s already watching him. There’s been so much of that lately, the looks, the stares, the glances between the two of them. Rowan complains about it to Jimmy every so often. Jimmy wonders if he does that same complaining to Lister when he’s not around. He wonders about what Rowan said a couple of weeks ago. I don’t think there’s a time limit on this, for either of you.
But what if there is? What if Lister’s moved on? It’s not like Jimmy’s even hinted at liking him back. Why shouldn’t Lister find someone else? Someone who didn’t take so much time thinking and overthinking and—
The thoughts come to an abrupt stop.
Because Lister’s head is resting on the couch cushion, looking at Jimmy like that , and Jimmy feels like the breath has been stolen out of his lungs.
I really like him , he thinks.
“I really like you,” he says out loud.
Lister grins ever so softly and maybe it’s a trick of the light, maybe it’s the movie reflecting in the dark room, but Jimmy swears that Lister’s eyes glow for the slightest moment.
“I like you too, Jim-Jam,” Lister responds, in a way that makes Jimmy think he doesn’t understand at all.
“No, like, I really, really like you,” he repeats because his two A.M. brain can’t think up another way to say it.
Lister’s smile grows. “I know,” he says, then whispers. “Me too.”
Jimmy copies Lister’s position on the couch. “Still?” he asks, voice hushed.
“Yeah.” Lister’s so quiet that Jimmy barely hears him. Their faces are so much closer than before. “You’re a very hard guy to get over.”
“Sorry,” Jimmy says, the response automatic.
“Don’t be.” Lister holds out a hand. Jimmy hesitates for a moment before lacing their fingers together. They’ve held hands before, but somehow this feels different, more charged. “I’m glad I didn’t.”
Jimmy lets out a breath. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t too.”
And Lister’s smiling. Jimmy does the same. Then suddenly, they’re laughing as quietly as they can. Their foreheads touch as they lean forward. When they finally regain their composure, their eyes meet again. Lister fiddles with Jimmy’s fingers for a bit before entwining them once more.
“Can I kiss you?” Lister asks. “Properly this time.”
Jimmy doesn’t answer. He just leans forward ever so slightly. Lister follows after him, like they’re falling into each other’s gravity. Their lips touch and it’s like the feeling of every guitar solo Jimmy’s ever played igniting in his chest all at once. Jimmy presses their mouths together more firmly. Lister’s free hand finds its way into Jimmy’s hair, holding him gently.
High School Musical is still playing in the background. Troy is singing some song about getting his head in the game. Jimmy couldn’t care less. His head is in the clouds, in the music of Lister’s kiss. Maybe it’s a cliche thing to think. Maybe it’s the late hour or the fact that this is finally, finally , happening. But Jimmy doesn’t care. He has a feeling Lister doesn’t either.
The only thing that breaks Jimmy out of his trance is the sound of someone clearing their throat. Jimmy and Lister both seek out the source of the noise only to see Rowan, hands on his hips, eyebrow arched. He stands quiet for a couple of seconds. “Took you long enough,” he says. Without another word, he sits on the couch next to them, pointing at the TV. “Is this High School Musical ? Who chose that?”
“Uh, Lister,” Jimmy replies, his mind still trying to catch up with everything.
“Eh, I suppose it’ll do.” Rowan picks up the remote and restarts the movie. He looks over at Jimmy and Lister like nothing out of the ordinary is happening. And, Jimmy supposes, there really isn’t anything out of the ordinary happening. It all feels like the most natural thing in the world.
And so, the three of them sit there, the clock nearing three in the morning, Jimmy and Lister holding hands. That’s where they stay for the rest of the night. They watch the movie until, one by one, they fall asleep. They’ll all have cricks in their necks come sunrise, but that’s the last thing any of them think about.
It doesn’t matter. Not really.
Not when they have each other.