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Bart likes it when Jaime talks about his life. It’s nice to hear about his parents, his school, his friends, his hopes, his dreams. In a way it makes it really easy for him to live his life vicariously through him, to live the life he’d always wanted to live through the other teen. He’d always wondered if he’d feel bitter or sad hearing about such things but, really, it makes him smile, makes him glad that Jaime had a chance that he didn’t really.
However what he really likes is that Jaime knows. He knows about Bart’s past, but he doesn’t treat him like glass, doesn’t treat him like he’s going to mentally break any moment, and he appreciates that. Bart loves the protective arm that occasionally drapes over his shoulders, the encouraging smiles, the way he feels like he has a place in the past. He finds himself loving the sight of Jaime’s smile, adoring the sound of his laughter and the way his accent gets thicker when he’s excited.
Briefly he wonders if what he feels around Jaime is what his mother felt for his father. After the invasion there wasn’t much time to be a kid, to learn what it was like to have a crush and to have best friends. He can’t help but think that the way he feels warm, like coming home to a roaring fire after spending hours in a blizzard, is a smidge more than platonic, but it doesn’t really matter. All he cares about is that he isn’t alone, that he has a place in the past other being the obnoxious tourist from the future.
Things change one day when they’re sitting next to each other, reading the same comic and, suddenly, Bart just feels so… Tired, so run down by everything for a moment, and he shifts a little to lean against his friend’s side. It’s a subtle shift but it draws Jaime’s attention, allows him to see his face when it isn’t all fake smiles and cheer, and it causes the other teen to wrap his arm around him, to pull him a little closer. For a moment Bart just closes his eyes and rests his head against his friend’s shoulder, lets himself be supported, lets himself be a little weak for a moment, and it feels good.
“…You okay, Hermano?” Jaime asks after a few moments, his hand gently squeezing the red head’s shoulder.
“Nah.” Bart murmurs, noticing the way Jaime tenses in alarm, lips quirking in a small smile. “I’ll be okay, though. Thanks.”
“Oh. I mean… Is there anything I can—Woah!”
Bart had moved before the other teen even finished speaking, tackling him sideways onto the floor in a hug and tucking his face against his neck. “I— Um. Sorry. Act before I think—”
“It’s… Cool. Warn a guy next time?” Jaime answered, tentatively resting a hand on Bart’s shoulder.
“I—Yeah. Okay, yeah.”
There’s a few moments of awkward silence before, slowly, warm arms slide around his torso, gently squeezing, the action making Bart’s eyes go wide. He swallowed thickly, brows knitting, throat tightening from a strange surge of emotion, one he was confused by since it was triggered by such a simple gesture. Bart let out a shaky breath, letting his eyes slip shut instead of questioning, letting himself sink into the embrace he didn’t really realize he needed, and relax, feeling safe, feeling as if he finally had someone who’d miss him if he died.
“Sorry.” Bart figures that that’s the safest thing for him to say at that time.
“Don’t be. Least I can do, man.” Jaime murmurs, his voice low, hushed.
Bart can’t help but smile a little and briefly wonders if this is what it’s like to have a crush or whatever they were called in the past. “Thanks.”