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The house is full of laughter; a large group forms around the couch to watch stupid, almost childish reruns of this sensory video. Jake leans back in his seat, feet up on the coffee table, and he messes with the Santa hat resting atop his head. A small white pompom swings back and forth in front of his face, similar to a cat toy. He huffs. There are moments where his gaze flickers from the hat to the TV, then to the front door.
He’s expecting someone. That’s obvious enough, isn’t it?
His index finger traces the rim of his red polo cup, its contents full of that deliciously bitter beer that he adores oh so much! (Not really. Albert didn’t have anything else in his house because everybody drank it before Jake even got there. Fucking bastards.) He furrows his brow.
It was stated explicitly in their 11-person group chat that the party would start at 6 PM. Jandel— because of course, who else would Jake be waiting for? Santa Claus? —had assured them that his flight would be early, and he’d get there right on time. But oh, lookie, lookie, where’s Janzen Madsen right now?
Not at the party.
Jake is sulking. He is wholeheartedly sulking on the couch. Ethan had walked up behind him a few times, offered him a couple of sympathetic pats and glances, then went off to bother Elijah and Denis a bit more. Jake could only smile, shrugged off any of his questions, and insisted that he was just tired.
Tired.
Jacob Green was not fucking tired.
He misses his stupid New Zealander boyfriend and his idiotic accent. When he wrote his Christmas list as a 4-year-old, he had explicitly written in big, bright red letters, “I WANT A MAN WITH A STUPID ACCENT WHEN I'M 30.”
Now, he sits on a couch, curled up on the side with Albert's pet rabbit. Who, mind you, is hopping around and looking at him with this evil look in its eyes. The damn thing has devious intent written all over it.
Jake huffs. Juts his bottom lip out, pouts, and sinks deeper into the fabric of the couch. His arms are crossed over his chest; the polo cup is situated between his lips, flicking it back and forth in a repetitive motion. He’s about to complain more, whine about it in his mind a smidgen longer, when he hears Miles’ voice echo through the halls. On instinct, he shoots up, straightening his posture and whipping his head around.
“Jandel! Holy shit, man, how was your flight?” He practically flies off the couch, stumbling on his feet, and immediately makes his way toward the front door. A quick smile at Dani and Aphex, who greet him with amused grins, and he’s suddenly standing behind Miles.
The two are lost in conversation, with the blond adorning some itchy Christmas sweater that he bought to match Aphex, and Jandel wearing a black hoodie— but at least he put on some shitty headband with reindeer antlers. Jake wants to make fun of him. And yet, when Jandel looks at him, and this stupid, stupid smile spreads across his face— Jake thinks he wants to kiss him instead.
Miles, thank the lord, seems to take the hint, for he side-steps to make room for the shorter brunet to walk forward. Jake can see the flush of red on his cheeks, the cold harsh against his skin, and he desperately wants to warm Jandel with his hands alone. Instead, he shifts on his feet and picks at the hem of his sweater. He thinks, maybe, that he looks lovestruck because of the way Miles watches them. There’s a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Hey,” Jandel starts, crossing his arms. “You, uh, ya come ‘ere often?” He tilts his head, grinning. Jake rolls his eyes so hard they practically fall out of his head, and he pulls the younger man into an embrace. A yelp of surprise can be heard before Jandel wraps his arms around Jake’s waist, chuckling.
“You’re 2 hours late, dude.”
Jandel snorts.
“Yeah, you never heard of airline disruptions?” Jandel teases. Jake only buries his face in the crook of the other man's neck, huffing in annoyance. “Rebooked my flight twice. Stupidest shit ever.” He can hear the smile in Jandel’s voice. Then, a hand ventures, resting on the small of Jake’s back now. “Sorry.”
“Whatever.” He pulls away, hands instinctively reaching up to cup the other man’s face. “You’re here. Better than nothing.” Jandel hums.
“‘Suppose so,” the brunet trails off suddenly, eyebrow raising. “Hey, was that always there?” He nods upwards, gesturing toward the plant hanging delicately from a chandelier. Jake looks up and blinks, staring at its ironic placement for a good moment or two, and grins. He meets Jandel’s gaze once more.
“A mistletoe? Oh, Janny, you know what that means,” he practically singsongs, giggling like a teenage girl talking to her crush. His hands fall, and he leans closer toward him, letting his arms drape lazily over Jandel’s shoulders. The other man keeps his eyebrow raised, a smirk on his face as he rests his hands on Jake’s hips.
“Dunno if I do. Ya wanna explain it to me?” Miles fucking gasps. Why the hell is he still standing there? “I’m a visual learner, by the way.” The gap between them is closing at a pace slower than a damn snail’s, lips only brushing when their chests are flush against one another’s. Jake’s grin only grows.
“Good. Because I teach better with my body.” And with that, Jandel smashes their lips together. A small gasp escapes Jake, yet he melts into the kiss just as quickly. There’s shuffling from beside them, but both men ignore it, their hands and minds focused on one another’s.
Jake’s hands practically fly into Jandel’s hair, carding his fingers through curly brown locks. The headband shifts, threatening to fall off, but neither could care much. Jandel keeps his hands on the older man’s hips, pulling him impossibly closer as they kiss. Distantly, Jake thinks they fit like a puzzle. Their lips slot together perfectly, and Jake thinks this is, maybe, better than winning at any shitty slot machine at a casino.
They separate, only for a moment, to catch their breath.
“Didn’t quite catch that. ‘Nother lesson sound good?”
“Yeah,” a breathy reply. Their lips meet again; sloppy, but coordinated this time.“I love you,” he says between kisses, where their mouths disconnect long enough for words to form. Jandel grins, stupid.
“I love you too.” The shorter man kisses him again.
Jake thinks his mouth is gonna be sore tomorrow.