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the overly-bright lights, keaton's instrumental department caroling around the school, pressure about who's taking whom to the winter dance, ugly sweaters– christmas, is he right? the most wonderful time of the year.
speaking of ugly sweaters, jax has been waiting in a godawful line for hours just to buy a few just for some laughs. when he (finally) reaches the (super-cute) cashier, he sheepishly dumps them for him to ring up. the cashier–miles, his name tag reads, gives him a look.
"they're for my grandma," jax says, making up an excuse on the spot and sounding more collected than he felt. miles allows himself a small smile and jax, easing up, grins widely. he doesn't like lying to (very cute, especially when they're smiling) people, but hey- what's done is done.
jax, 16:49
i'm out, thank god
kit!!!, 16:51
nice. come over as quickly as you can. bring the sweaters.
jax, 16:51
okok see u
he makes it to kit's house a quarter before six. the dunn residence is bright and packed and extravagant, just like the family themselves. kit opens the door after fifteen of his texts instructing her to, and her eyes land on the abundance of sweaters jax is donning.
"i didn't think you'd actually do it," she said, letting him in and holding her hand to her mouth.
"hey!" jax says. "i didn't lie to a cute cashier for nothing!"
"god, you're impossible."
jax and kit make their way in and out of a few rooms until the find one where the party really is at.
"hi, jax!" greets alya, smiling as usual. he's about to greet her back when he notices the boy sitting on the loveseat next to her.
"you," he manages. the boy raises an eyebrow at him, holding up a finger as he downs his drink.
"didn't you say those were for your grandma?" he says, pointing the accusing finger at jax's sweaters. kit laughs, and jax flushes bright red, brighter than the lights illuminating every sharp feature and the glitter across his face, making him look intimidating, but also–ookay. jax coughs, distracting himself from his (mega gay) thoughts.
"uh, april fools'?" he says weakly. a smile creeps onto miles's face and he begins to laugh. jax finds himself laughing, too. miles pats the seat next to him.
"sit," he says, and jax would've sat even if it resulted in his death. (which it could have! is there such thing as dying because of a pretty stranger?) kit gives him a knowing smirk. she could never give him a break, could she? alya leans over and grips miles's shoulder, a tight smile plastered on her face.
"i'll let you two get acquainted." jax nods sharply, and miles lazily waves her away.
"um, i'm jackson," jax says. "people call me jax, though." his heart is racing and wow, miles is dangerously close and it may be december and they may be in canada but it is boiling hot.
"miles," he says, and jax resists the urge to say yeah, i know.
"nice to meet you," he says, because it really is.
"likewise," miles says. "where do you go to school? i feel like i've seen you around before."
"um, keaton," jax stammers, cursing himself and his shaking hands. miles eyes his hands and calmly (how is he so calm??) places one of his over one of jax's.
"hey, me too. art department?"
"no, instrumental. flattered that you would think art, though. you're what, dance?" miles scoffs.
"you wish. i'm in instrumental, too. freshman, though, so we probably won't be seeing much of each other."
"you're fourteen?" jax says, slack-jawed.
"yeah," miles says warily, "so?" "sorry, it's just–wow, you look way older. uh, i'm a freshman too, so we might actually see each other around." miles nods in that cryptic way of his, and is about to say something when bianca's in front of them and her voice cuts through their impromptu game of 20 questions, beckoning them to whatever game they're about to play. jax and miles glance at each other and semi-reluctantly follow her to another room.
"we're playing spin the bottle!" she announces, clapping her hands together as if she's seven years old.
"is it too late to back out?" miles says, halfheartedly lifting his hand.
"yes!" bianca exclaims, and makes everyone sit in a circle. jax is having elementary school flashbacks.
the bottle lands on everyone except him and miles. it gets so boring, watching everyone squeal in delight, that jax is about to stand up and leave.
"not so fast," kit says as the bottle lands on him.
"uh, no thanks," he says dryly.
"don't be a baby," kit says, and kisses him on the cheek. that could've gotten way worse. he spins the bottle, and it lands on the person he least (most? who knows) wants it to land on. miles cups his face in his hands and kisses him. it lasts barely a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.
(him. he's who knows.)
jax is dazed and kit is snickering and miles is indifferent. jax may have gotten up too quickly but he doesn't care, he's out of there and miles is on his heels. he follows jax into a room that's relatively small, compared to every other room in the large house. this is jax's favorite room in the house.
he makes his way to the piano in the corner and lets miles sit down next to him wordlessly as he plays absently. he calms down from his rush, eventually, and he and miles have a little fun playing around and performing some songs from musicals and movies. (don't tell miles, but his favorite is 'tango: maureen' from rent. he doesn't object at all to singing it over and over again with him. miles has an incredible-spectacular-mesmerizing voice.) by 23:00 the two are a mess, laughing and collapsing onto each other. their fingers are too busy crashing into each other to actually play anything sensible now. they turn towards each other on the stool and just sit there like that for a good amount of time before miles has the guts to ask, "can i kiss you again?" and before jax wholeheartedly accepts.
"do you believe in love in first sight?" jax has the nerve to ask, his heart pounding against his ribs.
"now i do." comes miles's simple answer. jax laughs, because man that was cute.
"uh, we should probably–" jax starts, getting up and gesturing out of the room.
"yeah," miles agrees, taking jax's hand in his own. they make their way a few rooms over, where kit is animatedly talking to denzel, the person jax would least expect to be at a party so large. she notices miles and jax and quickly excuses herself from denzel.
"damn, that was quick," she says, looking at their intertwined hands.
"are you kidding? five hours was the longest amount of time it took to get me a, um–" he looks at miles.
"a boyfriend?" miles supplies.
"yeah. a boyfriend."
"it was also the shortest amount of time," kit says, taking a sip of her drink.
"that's none of your business!"
kit rolls her eyes. "okay, loverboy. go have fun," she says, and makes her way back to her conversation.
"she's always like that, i'm sorry," jax says. he can't think of anything else to say, in his defense. miles laughs.
"so is alya, believe it or not."
"really?" jax says, raising his eyebrows. "this one time, kit tried to set me up with this girl jenna, who's really nice– don't get me wrong– but she's just not my type."
"yeah? what's your type, then?" miles asks as they sit down on the same loveseat as before.
"tall, brunette, heterochromiac musicians." jax grins.
"smooth, jax. you know, once, alya–" begins, but is cut short when the girl in question towers over the boys, her hands on her hips.
"bianca says you two are dating," she says.
"hello to you, too, alya," miles says. "are you enjoying the party?"
"we have to talk," she says, glaring at miles and putting an unneccessary amount of emphasis on talk. miles glances at jax, who just nods.
"oh, i'm not shy. you can come too, jackson. i think this concerns you." alya pulls miles away by the ear and jax follows. they end up in some small, dark room. alya turns on the light and instantly jabs a finger into miles's chest.
"what do you think you're doing?"
"alya, i have no idea what you're–"
"how could you do this to him? what, do you think this is funny or something?"
"alya. just-"
"no, miles, i'm not going to stand around and watch you play him like this!"
"i'm sorry, what's going on?" jax interrupts. his mind is racing, and his eyes are flickering between the two of them like he's watching a tennis match.
"i'm sick of you thinking you know everything about me, alya! you don't know the first thing about me, and you're in no position to assume anything." jax's eyes widen. miles is completely losing his cool, and even alya seems to shrink back. miles turns to jax, who flinches.
"you turned me down because you weren't interested in a relationship," alya says quietly. that sentence hits jax in the stomach. he rubs the back of his neck.
"so, we're not...?" he trails off. he doesn't even want to think it, let alone say it.
"no! no, jax, it's not that."
"then what is it? don't sugarcoat it, miles; i'm fourteen, not four."
"jackson," he says, taking jax's hands and exhaling, "i'm dying."
"what?" he whispers/alya shouts.
"i have a kidney disease, and–yeah. i could die soon. i didn't want to tell either of you because i knew you'd start babying me. jax, i didn't want you to be weirded out, or something–"
"i would never," jax says, gripping miles's hands.
"i was hesitant to be in a relationship because i'm scared of forcing you to lose me when i do. alya, i was still coming to terms with being gay and the fact that i'm dying so, uh, i kind of panicked. it's nothing personal."
alya sighs. "i get it. i'm sorry i made such a scene."
miles just nods. jax doesn't know what to say, so he just pulls miles into a hug.
"it's going to be okay," miles whispers, hugging back. "we're going to be okay."
"yeah, we are." jax says, and holds him tighter.