TSN RPF fic: ever cross your mind.

[darkindegrees]

Hey, so I'm not dead, I just repeatedly use this thing to store private entries of fic snippets? Also, I am bad with checking my flist. I am breaking my radio silence to post...TSN RPF fic. You guys, I adored this TSN but I think I love Andrew/Jesse more.

Title: ever cross your mind
Rating: PG-13. Ish. Nothing really bad here, folks.
Word count: ~11,000(!!!!, WHAT IS MY LIFE)
Characters/Pairings: Andrew Garfield/Jesse Eisenberg, Emma Stone, Joe Mazzello, Justin Timberlake
Summary: AU. Wherein Jesse works for in an office and Andrew is the new guy, complete with dollops of fluff and angst and neuroses. New guy walks in behind her. Jesse’s just taken a sip of coffee and tries not to choke on it. He’s tall and thin, with the most ridiculous poofy hair and the biggest eyes Jesse has ever seen. He’s got a massive grin on his face and he looks like he’d rather be skipping than walking or something equally ridiculous. Jesse’s heart does something funny in his chest.
Author’s notes: Written for this prompt on the TSN kink meme. I had so much fun writing this, you guys. It is also the sappiest thing I have ever written, I am pretty sure, but I don't even care. These boys are adorable ♥. ALSO, WHATEVER, RPF, IDWIW.



Jesse doesn’t love his job.

His sister seems to literally not be able to understand this concept and his mom is constantly dropping hints that maybe he should make the move into a proper career, which he loves. Which, yeah, he gets it-they only want what’s best for him. But Jesse majored in geography and he can’t deal with people adequately enough or for long enough to go into any of the jobs he could think of which would put his degree to use. Besides, it seems like everyone has a degree these days so an office job wasn’t exactly something to sneer at. It definitely wasn’t anything to sneer at after spending months unemployed and broke, reeling from a break up and trying desperately to scrape together every cent because the landlord insisted he had to pay up or get out.

So he doesn’t love his job, but he’s been there for two years now and it’s a good living. He likes most of the people he works with and, more than that, they like him. Most of them know that Jesse’s a little bit awkward, little bit neurotic-even a bit weird. They don’t mind. It’s comfortable and being in the office is usually fun. The work is mostly unchallenging, sure, but it forces him to work on his people skills because dealing with customers is not an easy thing, not even a little bit. It’s good for him and it’s constant. Steady. He might not love it but Jesse feels a lot happier about his life than he has in ages, including the supposed glory days of college. He likes his life enough to genuinely wish that nothing changes.

It’s like he invites change in, really. One minute everything is fine and then Connor leaves (with rumblings of drug addiction, which Jesse could totally buy-he spent way too long in bathrooms and was too jittery for someone who refused caffeine). Jesse was never particularly close to Connor but he was a nice guy, funny and charming even if he was a bit jittery. He was private enough that he never felt the need to push with Jesse, which is something he’s found he needs to appreciate in people more. So, obviously, with Connor gone they have to hire someone new in and Jesse thinks it might be a little terrible how anxious that makes him.

He doesn’t even realise they hire a new guy for a while. When he finally hears, it’s one quick mention and then the boss comes and they scatter. Fincher can be a bit intimidating and while he’s friendly enough, it was way too early to be standing in the kitchen gossiping over coffee instead of working. Jesse seems to completely miss any mention of the new guy for the next week or so. He’d feel bad about it but no one expects Jesse to be a part of the welcome wagon, anyway.

The day the new guys starts work is ridiculously busy. Jesse hasn’t moved from his desk since he got in that morning and the phone is ringing and ringing and ringing. He can tell it’s going to be one of Those Days when the lady on the phone is irritating beyond belief. No, her order won’t be there in the next twelve hours? Why? Because it was only ordered last night at eleven o’clock and it’s not even half nine in the morning yet. Jesse keeps his frustration out of his tone (barely) and moves onto the next call. When he’s spoken to his fourth idiotic caller in a row he opens his e-mail and fires one off to Emma, a friend of his in HR.

To: estone@collingwood.com
From: jeisenberg@collingwood.com
Subject: people.

The world is populated by people who want to make me miserable.

To: jeisenberg@collingwood.com
From: estone@collingwood.com
Subject: Re: people

Wait, hold up. Are you saying you hate the world?

To: estone@collingwood.com
From: jeisenberg@collingwood.com
Subject: Re: re: people

No, just people.

To: jeisenberg@collingwood.com
From: estone@collingwood.com
Subject: Re: re: re: people

You are not going to think that in approx 2 .

Look up from your desk, hon.

Jesse doesn’t really want to, but Emma has a funny way of knowing when he doesn’t actually do what she says (he thinks she’s secretly installed some kind of spy camera in his hair or something, but no matter what he does he can’t get it out. The curse of curly hair). It’s good that he does, too, because no sooner has he looked up than Emma makes an entrance worthy of the theatre. The doors are pushed wide open and she strolls in, hair flying and wearing a wide grin. She looks happy, bright and a little bit sharp-it’s in the way her teeth are pointed and her heels click against the ground. Emma’s a lovely girl but sometimes she looks a bit dangerous. It’s intriguing.

She spots Jesse, smiles and winks. Jesse lifts his hand in a half-wave and goes to lift his coffee so he can over for a chat. Which, of course, is when he realises that she’s not alone and that, of course, the dramatic entrance was to draw attention from everyone because Emma is here to introduce new guy.

New guy walks in behind her. Jesse’s just taken a sip of coffee and tries not to choke on it. He’s tall and thin, with the most ridiculous poofy hair and the biggest eyes Jesse has ever seen. He’s got a massive grin on his face and he looks like he’d rather be skipping than walking or something equally ridiculous. Jesse’s heart does something funny in his chest.

He just about manages not to drop his coffee cup. Emma is smiling around the office and he just knows she sees his shaking hands.

“Hey everyone,” she says. “This is Andrew. Andrew’s taking over from Connor. He’s very lovely! Everyone should make him feel welcome!”

Everyone seems to follow Emma’s order immediately. There’s people swooping in at Andrew from all corners, with smiles and witty quips and their natural charm and doing all the normal every day things Jesse isn’t very good at. At all. He sighs and stands there awkwardly, watching the welcome wagon do its job. Andrew talks to everyone who talks to him and even those who are just near him, smiling at them warmly. He laughs and it’s a perfect laugh. When he smiles it reaches his eyes. Jesse tries to stop thinking ridiculous things, which he’s pretty sure are showing on his face and making him look like one of those cartoon characters who literally have hearts where their eyes should be.

Just as he’s convincing himself to turn away from Andrew and everyone else and pick up the ringing phone on his desk, Andrew looks up and catches his eye. For a second, he just stares and then he smiles at Jesse, sincere and sweet and Jesse is so fucking screwed it’s ridiculous.

*

Emma phones him later. Andrew and the welcome wagon had had tea and cookies (which, what the hell, there were never cookies for the normal workers) and chatted a bit more. Jesse had went back to work, keeping an eye on them as he did so. Everytime Andrew looked up, Jesse pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in his work. Luckily, he’s learned to touch type over the past two years so he can get away with staring at a wall while he’s supposed to be working. People are used to it and think nothing of it.

Andrew kept smiling at him. Jesse had smiled back a couple of times and it made Andrew smile more, smile wider. Jesse hadn’t been able to keep eye contact, though, and had ducked his head instantly.

So when Emma rings it’s a welcome distraction from this endless cycle of working, staring at Andrew and then pretending not to be. He practically dives on his cell, which is lying discarded on Joe’s desk from earlier that morning. Joe is working at his desk, but barely looks up and no one else bar Andrew seems to be paying him any attention. Jesse supposes he’s not used to their office and the habit they’ve all developed of not leaving stuff where it should be.

Or he could be staring because this week Emma’s personalised ringtone is from Spring Awakening. Either/or.

“Hi,” he breathes into the cell, retreating back to his desk and slumping down in front of the computer. He takes the phone at his desk off the hook and pulls up a spreadsheet. If Fincher walks past, he’s doing work.

“Isn’t he lovely?” Emma says, excitedly. There’s something in her tone a little pointed. Jesse is very good at ignoring pointed tones.

“I suppose so.”

“He is. He has such nice eyes!”

“I guess.” Jesse has definitely not been looking at his eyes. That would be absurd.

“Jesse,” Emma says. “Why are you talking like-oh, you’re around people, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Jesse flicks his eyes around the office. Joe gives him a thumbs up and mimes a gesture Jesse doesn’t quite understand. He thinks it might have to do with mom, though, but in that case the gesture is just obscene. Jesse picks up a pen and throws it at Joe.

“Can you go to the bathroom?”

“I’ve been able to since I was very little, Em. It’s sort of a skill they don’t really need to teach?”

Emma laughs, a short, sharp burst of sound. “Oh, hon. You know exactly what I meant.”

“We are not going to have a discussion about the new guy’s eyes,” Jesse tells the phone very firmly.

Which, of course, pretty much invites the entire universe to go against him right then and there because he hears someone laugh behind him and before he’s even turned around Jesse just knows. Sure enough, Andrew’s standing there with laughter in his eyes and a raised eyebrow.

“We’re not?” he says, voice lifting like it’s a question and of course he’d have an English accent. This is just perfect.

“Um,” Jesse says, very eloquently.

Andrew smiles. Jesse wants the earth to open up and swallow him. “It’s okay. I’ve been told I have very nice eyes. People often want to discuss them.”

Emma suddenly starts talking in his ear; he’d just about forgotten she was still there. “Oh my god,” she breathes out. “Oh god, Jesse, deep breaths, don’t freak, be super nice and funny. You can do this. I believe in you.”

Then she hangs up. Emma is a cow. He will get her back for this.

Jesse slowly lowers the phone from his ear and shuffles his feet. “We were discussing everyone’s eyes! Not just yours!” he blurts out. Jesse can feel himself blushing. “It is a thing we do!”

“Okay,” Andrew says. His tone does not imply that he thinks Jesse just came down from Plant Crazy Town, which is a big improvement over most people. Jesse likes him. “How are the eyes of people in this office?”

Jesse relaxes and smiles at Andrew, bright and pleased with just the tiniest hint of relief. Andrew seems startled for a second but returns the smile as Jesse says, “Well, as offices go we’re pretty good. Joe has really nice eyes, for example, and Rooney’s eyes are very, very interesting. I’ve been told people get lost in them although I think that’s ridiculous. You can’t get lost in eyes.”

“You can’t?” Andrew asks.

“Obviously not. Eyes have signposts so you can find your way out again,” Jesse says, deadpan. Andrew is startled into laughter and Jesse is pleased. After a second, he joins in and thinks I could want this.

*

The thing about Andrew is that he slots in like he belongs. It’s blatantly unfair. Jesse spent his first month or so feeling a little bit out of place. Joe took him under his wing and he knew Emma but that was it. Andrew seems to know no one but he has friends by the end of the first day. Jesse supposes it’s the easy smile and the accent and the way he’s a bit like a puppy, really, eager and cheerful. He can’t even bring himself to feel jealous or resentment or anything, because Jesse likes him too much.

Which is part of the problem. By the end of the first week, Andrew has installed himself into Jesse’s work life. He talks away and asks questions and just smiles, even when it’s early and even when Jesse knows he should be hungover because they all went to the bar the night before and Andrew had more to drink than he did and Jesse feels like curling up under his desk and never coming out because the light stings his retinas. Even then, Andrew smiles.

Jesse is beginning to suspect he might secretly be a serial killer. They’re always super charming, right?

Of course, Jesse is lacking in brain-to-mouth filter and the thought slips out one day. It’s a pretty slow day and Jesse and Joe are playing a game of tennis, with rulers as rackets and crumpled up pieces of paper as the ball. Justin was originally given the title of umpire but has turned into an announcer of some sort-he sounds more like a football commentator and keeps referring to Jesse as “the underdog putting up a great fight against Joseph M, the reigning champion.”

“I don’t understand why I’m the underdog,” Jesse says, as he pushes his feet against the floor and makes his chair roll. He stretches out, the ruler hits the ball of paper and it goes flying towards Joe who has to stand to whack it back. “I have clearly won the last couple of games that have been played in this office.”

“You have nerd arms,” Justin states. He’s pulling a face, as if this should be obvious.

Jesse hits the paper ball back at Joe, before he glances at his arms. His arms are thin and pale, poking out from the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. He can understand where Justin is coming from. It’s a lot more fun, though, to not agree with Justin. “I do not,” he says. He tries to sound hurt.

Justin snorts. “Man, you have got the nerdiest arms I’ve ever seen on anyone who isn’t a full out, legit nerd.”

Joe has hit the paper ball with enough force that Jesse has to stand and practically dive to hit it. He has to double tap it, too, first up in the air and then across. There’s a small smattering of applause. Fincher would be so disappointed if he could see them now.

“What, exactly, is a legit nerd?” Andrew asks from somewhere to Jesse’s left. Well, not somewhere. Jesse knows exactly where he’s sitting and he knows that he’s got both legs swung up on the desk and he’s wearing mismatched socks. Jesse is far too aware of Andrew’s every move.

“Yeah, Justin,” Jesse echoes, “what is a legit nerd?”

“It’s, you know. Someone who does all the things with the computers and, like, never sees broad daylight.” Jesse can see him wheeling his arms around like a windmill out of the corner of his eye, using expansive gestures to make himself look like he knows what he’s talking about. Jesse knows-his sister is an actor and does it all the time.

“I see broad daylight,” Jesse says, only mildly defensive. He knows Justin doesn’t mean anything by it. “I ride a bike to work; of course I see broad daylight.”

“That does not count,” Justin says. “I mean, like, you probably hole yourself up in your apartment when you’re on vacay.”

“That’s not even a word,” Jesse says. He dives for the paper ball Joe has sent hurtling towards him and whacks it hard with the ruler. The paper ball comes apart before it reaches Joe, bits of scrap paper uncurling themselves and streaming down through the air. Jesse just stares mournfully down at it, while Joe starts doing his ridiculous version of a victory dance. It seems to involve a lot of shaking “what his mama gave him” and spinning around in circles with his hands over his head. He’s also singing “We Are the Champions.” Joe is one of Jesse’s closest friends, but sometimes he literally doesn’t know how to deal with him.

“And, in a stunning turn of events, the underdog we all suspected had this one signed, sealed and delivered practically has lost to reigning champion, Joseph M!” Justin announces, his voice going deep and booming like a television announcer again. He moves to where Joe is dancing and starts joining in. It is both hilarious and disturbing and Jesse has to press a hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing so loudly people in England would hear him.

Jesse turns slightly so he doesn’t have to look at the ridiculous dance Joe and Justin are doing anymore and nearly buries his face into Andrew’s chest. He blinks and then looks up, a half-smile quirking his lips upwards.

Andrew beams. “You’re not going to take losing thick, are you?” he asks.

“I lose all the time,” Jesse says dismissively. “I’m not winner material.”

“I think you’re winner material.” It’s so damn sincere and Jesse would let himself hope, but he’s also heard Andrew say things like this before. To everyone. He tries to reign in that tendril of hope and not say something stupid like, “Ravish me now, Garfield!”

“I think you’re potentially a serial killer in disguise.” Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god. That definitely was not better than “ravish me now.” Oh god. Jesse takes a step backwards and starts glancing about the office, looking for somewhere to hide. He contemplates crawling under his desk and just hiding there.

Andrew is staring at him with wide eyes and a crinkled brow. “I’m sorry? I mean, I don’t know, I thought that serial killers were overly violent crackpots and I know that I threw that file a bit too hard at you the other day-and I’m really sorry about that, I didn’t realise you weren’t going to catch it and it hit you in the face instead-but I don’t think I’m violent.”

Oh god and now Andrew is rambling and he looks worried. Jesse wants to grab him by the tie and kiss the worry away.

Well, he wants to do that and die of embarrassment. Perhaps simultaneously.

“I didn’t-I don’t think you’re a serial killer! I mean, I know I said it, but that was mostly because you’re all happy and smiley and it’s, like, we’re in an office, people aren’t happy and smiley here. We’re all slightly miserable, or that’s what we’re told to be. And you just wander about being charming! And lovely! Not that I think you’re lovely, Emma said you were.” Andrew looks hurt and Jesse quickly backtracks. “But I do think you’re lovely! Of course. Because I don’t actually think you’re a serial killer in disguise.”

Andrew is staring at Jesse with the most confused expression Jesse has ever seen in his life time. The corners of his mouth are turned up like he’s not quite sure whether to smile or not and his brow is still furrowed. His eyes are just looking at him and Jesse knows that’s what eyes do but Andrew’s eyes are probably going to be the death of him. Jesse shuffles his feet and prepares to run away.

Thankfully, Justin grips his elbow tightly at precisely that moment and says something about needing Jesse to answer a question on a spreadsheet. He pulls Jesse away from Andrew, right over to the far corner of the office and manhandles him into a seat. Jesse knows that Andrew can’t see him from over here given all the pillars and he feels perfectly fine with dropping his head down between his knees and hyperventilating a little.

“You are worse at this than anyone I have ever met,” Justin declares, tone half sympathy and half glee. “Even Stewart is better at you than this-she has that Rob guy.”

“I hate you, Justin,” Jesse says.

Justin claps him on the back and giggles. Literally giggles. “You are a constant source of entertainment in my life.”

Jesse really does hate him a little. He’s not just saying that, honestly.

*

The worst-and the best-part of it is that Andrew doesn’t even seem to notice Jesse’s little crush. He slipped into the office like he belonged there and he’s starting to carve an Andrew-shaped space for himself out in Jesse’s life, happily oblivious as to what he does to Jesse. One Friday after work they go for Chinese and then to a bar and it becomes routine, something familiar and something to look forward to. Andrew is funny and charming and he’s completely sincere. He rambles away and likes talking, but he doesn’t press Jesse for anything and it all feels natural. Before long, Jesse honestly starts to think of Andrew as being up there with Emma and Joe (and Justin, when he isn’t proclaiming his hatred of him) as among his best friends.

Which is why he tries so hard to ignore the way his heart flutters when their fingers brush or when Andrew leans against his side on nights out, or when their feet touch ever so tentatively under the table. Jesse messes things up with his anxiety and his neuroses and he won’t mess this up.

So he ignores it and aches a little bit, but Andrew smiles at him and laughs with him and invites himself over to Jesse’s apartment unannounced and life is good. Maybe Jesse wants a little bit more, but he’s not going to say anything. That would be stupid. And Jesse is a lot of things, but he’s not stupid.

Emma, of course, begs to differ. She drops by one night, completely unannounced. When Jesse opens the door, she thrusts a bag towards him. He can smell Chinese food and before he’s even thought it through, he’s opening the door wider and letting her in.

Emma takes full advantage of that. She kicks her shoes off in the hall and they hit the wall with a thump. Before Jesse’s closed the door, she’s thrown herself down on the couch and flicked the TV over to the DVD channel. The bag with the food in it is left sitting on the coffee table. Jesse sighs, shakes his head and comes back with plates and cutlery, dishing the food out while Emma flicks through the DVDs.

They both know no one is actually going to watch the DVD, but a thin veneer of normality is really what Jesse needs right now.

She picks something ridiculous (and he’s sure it’s one of hers, he has never even heard of One Missed Call let alone watched it and he doesn’t know how it ended up in his apartment). They put it in and eat for a while, chatting every now and again but mostly sitting in companionable silence. She’s giving him a bit of space. Despite her brashness and occasional bossy attitude, Emma always seems to know when Jesse needs her to tone it down and give him a little bit of space. He loves her like he loves his sisters and his mother and he thinks if things had been different, he could have loved her in another way.

She’s just his best friend, though, and a sensible, level-headed soul. Or that’s what she keeps telling him, anyway. Jesse begs to differ because this movie is a) predictable and b) horrible and it’s quite clearly one of Emma’s DVDs. Sensible, level-headed souls do not watch horrible horror movies. He’s very glad when she pauses it.

“So,” Emma says, turning to face him. She swings her legs up and stretches them out over Jesse’s lap. “I tried calling you last night and when you didn’t pick up I came over anyway.”

“I wasn’t in.” Jesse stabs a piece of chicken on his plate viciously with a fork.

“I noticed.” When Jesse looks at Emma she’s waggling her eyebrows and doing that creepy thing she’s informed him is her attempt at a leer. “And what were you up to?”

“I went to a bar,” he said. He’s purposefully not volunteering information and he knows it’s killing Emma but he can’t bring himself to just say these things out loud like everything will be fine and dandy when he does and shortly after he’ll fall into Andrew’s arms and his foot will pop while they kiss, like Anne Hathaway said happened in that movie he’s seen far more than he would ever admit to. Things like that do not happen in real life. In real life, Jesse suffers from a terrible, one-sided crush, makes a dick out of himself and then goes about his everyday life trying to ignore the existence of the crush. That is what happens to people like Jesse. He has known this for a very long time and even accepted it, but Emma is silly and optimistic and refuses to believe him.

“You went to a bar with Andrew, right?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jesse stabs another piece of chicken. Emma is just staring at him, with her eyes. Jesse hates her eyes. Jesse hates everyone’s eyes. “Emma, stop it. It’s fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine and dandy.”

“You don’t say fine and dandy.”

“I just did!” Jesse is far too panicked right now. He feels like crawling out of skin, because it doesn’t seem to fit right. It hasn’t fit right in the past couple of days.

Emma has set her plate down and is beside him before Jesse can do anything, one hand rubbing up and down his back and the other placed gently on his arm. Her expression is set to caring-neutral and she’s just watching him. She makes a soft humming sound and Jesse sets his plate down. He’s having a bad day, one where the monsters that prey on his mind have sunk their claws in and don’t want to let go. Jesse hates these days.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” she says. Sings, really. “Everything is okay. Everything can be fine and dandy and I don’t care if you use that ridiculous British saying and I won’t even mock you for picking up Andrew’s idioms.”

“People say it on TV,” Jesse says weakly but they both know it’s currently Andrew’s favourite saying and Jesse hangs onto his every word. It’s a little pathetic, Jesse thinks. Except he doesn’t think it’s a little pathetic, he thinks it’s a lot pathetic. “Emma, why am I so screwed?”

“You aren’t screwed.” She smoothes a hand over his curls. “You aren’t. You’re just being nervous and being...you. Andrew likes you.”

“Andrew likes everybody,” Jesse says, dismissive.

Emma twists then and uses her ridiculous upper body strength to turn him around. He’s looking right in her eyes and he can see her sincerity shining through. She grabs a hold of his hands and folds them in between her own, as best she can-her hands are small, after all. “Listen to me, hon, okay, because Emma knows best. Andrew thinks you’re ‘pretty swell’ and those are the words he used, believe me, because I’ve never described anyone as ‘swell’ unironically in my life.”

“Unironically isn’t a word.”

Emma closes her eyes. “We’re going to pretend that’s not the part that you focused on, okay? I’m going to pretend you reacted like everyone else and said, ‘Oh, Em, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend and trying to help me out even though I’m acting like a love struck thirteen year old girl.’”

Jesse doesn’t know how to react to that. He settles for snorting. “I am not. There have been no ‘do you like me, tick yes or no’ notes given out. At all.”

Emma shakes her head and reaches for her plate. “You are utterly ridiculous and I love you, honey.”

“I am not ridiculous,” Jesse murmurs but he’s smiling and he knows Emma sees it because she looks a little less pinched and worried and a little happier. Jesse picks up his plate again and says, “Okay, maybe I am. Will that get you off my back for a while?”

“That depends,” Emma says. “Are you going to do anything about this Andrew situation? Because people in the office are beginning to suspect you have actual real life feelings other than anxiety and irritation and that’s got to be stopped before it gets out of control.”

Jesse nods along as she talks. “You’re right,” he says solemnly. “I don’t want to destroy my image as awkward robot kid.”

Emma smiles and bumps her shoulder against his. “Good. I’m so pleased for you.”

They eat the rest of their Chinese and finish the film and then another and then another until they fall asleep on Jesse’s couch together. Jesse feels lighter than he has in a couple of days and much more determined. Maybe he won’t be that guy who suffers from unrequited lust anymore. Maybe.

*

Andrew wheels his way into Jesse’s workspace the next morning, shortly after ten. Jesse is mostly daydreaming, with some spreadsheets open on the screen so if anyone official comes by he can pretend to be intently perusing numbers. Usually the bigwigs don’t come close enough to really check what he’s doing, which is good because this particular spreadsheet is one Justin made to “break down the best damn Chinese restaurants in this town, bitch.” It’s even the title of the document, but Jesse knows from experience most people don’t care what he’s doing as long as it looks like he’s doing something.

Andrew seems to care, though. He’s inching forward, dragging himself and his wheelie chair along. He stops right beside Jesse’s elbow and leans over him, breath ghosting across the back of Jesse’s neck. Jesse swallows and grips the pencil he’s holding tighter so his knuckles shine white.

“This seems like an interesting spreadsheet,” Andrew says. He’s too close to Jesse’s ear and his voice is barely above a whisper. Jesse thinks he should move away but he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s too busy breathing in Andrew and trying not to freak out at the same time.

“It’s very interesting,” Jesse says. “I’ve found that through consumer research such as this I’ve been able to enrich my own life.”

Andrew huffs a breath that sounds like disguised laughter. “So you go other places than that one restaurant and your flat?”

Jesse wants to turn around and raise an eyebrow or shoot Andrew A Look or something but he’s completely rooted to the spot. He doesn’t want to move because every time he inhales he can feel Andrew’s chin bump against his shoulder. This is too close and possibly awkward and Jesse would hate it if it were anyone else.

“Of course I go other places. Three nights ago I went to Emma’s.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Jesse knows it because one moment they’re both there, in this limbo state and he knows it’s not just him because he’s been watching Andrew’s hand casually move across the desk towards his own and the next moment it’s gone and Andrew has leaned back. Jesse hears him make a noise which sounds remarkably like a very muffled ‘fucking hell.’

“Yes. How’s Emma?”

Just mentioning Emma brings the conversation Jesse had with her right to the front of his mind and suddenly he’s resolved. He spins around in his chair and Andrew obviously isn’t expecting it. He’s moved back but Jesse’s knee knocks (almost painfully) against Andrew’s so he hasn’t moved that far away at least. Jesse stares at him straight on and he clenches his hands slightly at his side, just to steady himself. Andrew’s eyes are flickering over his face and down to Jesse’s fists and Jesse can see the nervousness hiding beneath the fake smile Andrew has plastered onto his face.

It makes him feel better and a little bit less like there’s a crushing weight on his chest.

“Emma’s my best friend,” Jesse says which, okay, wasn’t what he meant to say but he’s sure he’ll get there in the end. “She’s kind of a kook-isn’t that a word you say?-but I think that’s why she’s my best friend because, you know, just in case you haven’t noticed I’m the sort of weird that therapists love because I’m going to keep coming back for years and years and years and phoning up for sessions because I get all neurotic and worried and overly anxious about stuff that takes me years to realise, objectively, isn’t actually that bad. Emma’s very ‘chill’, or that’s what Justin says anyway because Justin has a massive crush on Emma but that’s apparently a secret. So. Yeah. In case you were wondering.”

Jesse is not used to people looking anything other than horrified when he rambles. Jesse isn’t prone to rambling in public because when he does people tend to stare at him because he literally cannot stop himself. They tend to look bemused or frightened and, often, irritated. They don’t tend to smile, because when Jesse results to rambling in a public area (and work is definitely public, even if no one is around) it usually means something is wrong. The more he rambles about his relationship with Emma, though, the more Andrew smiles until his smile is so wide it’s practically splitting his face. First, he’d just looked bemused, like everyone else, but then he’d started grinning, that weird grin that Jesse’s not sure how to classify. It makes the corner of his eyes crinkle, though, and that makes Jesse’s heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Jess,” Andrew says, when he’s finally stopped talking, “Jess, why are you telling me this?”

“In my head, you did not ask that question,” Jesse informs him. “So I’m just going to pretend that out loud you didn’t ask me that question either! It’ll be great all ‘round.”

Jesse spins around in his chair again. His hands are sweating and his fingers are clumsy when he tries to pick up his pencil again. Andrew grabs onto the back of his chair and spins Jesse around to face him. Andrew’s expression is carefully blank, although his eyes are shining a little. Jesse’s not sure what with.

“Jesse, why are you telling me this?”

Jesse feels like he’s been cornered which, well, he has a bit. His heart is fluttering in his chest, a staccato beat that would worry him if he wasn’t too busy trying to focus on Andrew over the rushing in his ears. He’s been this nervous before, but he doesn’t get this nervous about people, singular, unless he’s trying to impress them in order to get something like a job. That’s not how this goes with Jesse. Not usually.

He thinks about what Emma said and the word ‘swell’ and the way Andrew’s always saying things like, ‘I think you’re winner material.’ He thinks about the way he smiles at Jesse, even when Jesse’s been scowling at people for pretty much thirty minutes straight. He thinks about last weekend, when they’d been drunk and Andrew’s lips had brushed his cheek and Jesse had written it off as drunkenness and not hoped and Andrew had been quiet all Monday and he hopes. This time, he hopes.

Jesse leans forward as if to tell Andrew a secret. His lips are close to Andrew’s ear and when he talks they brush against his cheek. “I think you’re pretty swell,” he says. Whispers.

Andrew inhales sharply and encircles Jesse’s wrist with one of his hands. His breath is hot against Jesse’s face. Jesse can smell the mint of the chewing gum Andrew likes.

“I think you’re pretty swell too,” Andrew says and he moves slightly so Jesse’s cheek is resting against Andrew’s and he knows that Andrew can feel it when he smiles, but he doesn’t care because this is better than he hoped for. Even if there’s way too many chairs and wheels in this equation. He sits back and looks at Andrew for a split second before he kisses him.

It’s a chaste kiss. Partly because they’re at work and partly because Jesse still isn’t sure how Andrew’s going to react but it turns out he doesn’t need to worry about that. The minute their lips touch Andrew moans, a soft noise in his throat and he reaches out, tugging Jesse further in. Jesse smiles into the kiss and then Andrew does too and they’re laughing. Jesse rests his forehead against Andrew’s and he’s still laughing, trying to keep the sound quiet because if he doesn’t people will look into his cubicle and he doesn’t want that right now.

Andrew whispers, “Chinese tonight?” and Jesse nods and smiles because yes, this is it. This is what he wants. Andrew kisses him this time, a hard press of lips and teeth and Jesse kisses back, winding his fingers into Andrew's ridiculous hair and biting back any noises.

“Yo, Jesse!”

Instantly, Jesse and Andrew pull apart. Andrew is wearing the dopiest looking grin Jesse has ever seen and his cheeks are flushed, lips red and swollen. Jesse doesn't want to stop looking at him, but he can hear Justin's footsteps and he pulls his eyes away, swinging around in his wheely chair. Andrew grazes his fingers against the back of Jesse's neck before he leaves the cubicle and if Jesse is a little flustered while he talks to Justin at least Justin doesn't mention it, although Jesse knows he's figured it out from the way his eyes cut from Jesse to Andrew and then back again. Sometimes, Justin isn't so bad. Jesse might not hate him after all.

*

Andrew surprises Jesse. He’s not what Jesse expects. Sometimes it makes him want to throw things at a wall because people are so frustrating but mostly it makes him want to grin and hold his hand and kiss him and kiss him until they’re both completely lost for breath and just stand there, smiling at each other.

It’s not as hard as Jesse expected it to be, this falling into whatever it is with Andrew. The nights out at the Chinese restaurant remain, but they stop going to bars and go back to Jesse’s apartment instead because it’s nearby. There’s almost a routine about it: they start kissing before they’ve even made it there and there’s teeth and tongue and Andrew’s hand down Jesse’s pants and Jesse vividly remembers that time it was too much, far too much and he pushed Andrew up against the wall on the second floor of the apartment building and they jerked each other off. (Mrs. Carter certainly remembers, too, judging by the looks she gives him these days.) Jesse sometimes doesn’t feel like he’s entirely himself around Andrew, giddy and excitable and a lot more impulsive than usual but he’s not himself in a good way and he wants it to be like this forever. This heady rush and the stolen kisses in work and the way Andrew brings him coffee every hour or so, so their fingers can brush and he can graze his lips against Jesse’s ear and pretend he’s talking to him about work.

It’s perfect, like the early summer days when the heat is warm and fuzzy and the sun makes everything glitter gold and Jesse could stay like this forever.

The world can’t, apparently.

Andrew can’t. Apparently.

Jesse is certain he must have done something wrong. Well, he’s fairly certain. Two nights before they’d went to his apartment and he’s not sure what he did. Maybe he slipped, maybe he wasn’t as good and Andrew could see right through him. Maybe Andrew heard him talking to his cats like they were real people when he got up at three a.m. for a drink. Maybe Andrew saw the ridiculous copy of the map from Philip II of Spain’s era he has on the wall, which he’s basically destroyed he’s drawn that many countries in and fixed America up so it’s reflective of the modern day country.

Jesse stares morosely at his computer screen, hits a couple of keys and tries not to think about the fact it’s been three hours since he’s seen Andrew. There’s a half-drunk cup of coffee sitting cold near his elbow. Andrew had given it to him, smiled tightly and walked away. It’s like a repeat of yesterday and Jesse feels cold and tired, the lack of sleep catching up with him.

He answers the phone, speaks as nicely as he can to some woman who has got the wrong number again, even though she phones about three times a week. Jesse thinks she has a phone crush on him. Emma is certain of it.

Emma was also certain Andrew really liked him, though, so it shows what she knows.

Jesse hates people.

*

His cats hate him.

Jesse doesn’t even care. He expects it.

*

Somehow, it’s a week later and Jesse wants to cry and never see Andrew again and he’s really sick of watching Singin’ in the Rain to make himself feel better, because now he just feels worse and he wants to spin around lampposts, too, which is never good.

He gets drunk and phones Emma.

“Emma,” he says, when she picks up. “Come out with me.”

He can hear the tell-tale sounds of Emma struggling to sit up and when he looks at the clock it’s three a.m. Oh. Maybe he should have looked at the clock first. “Jesse?” she says. “I was sleeping.”

“I just figured that out!” His voice is too loud. Jesse drops it to a whisper. “Sorry. I can phone you back later.”

There’s a sigh and some more rustling and then Emma says, “No. It’s fine. What’s wrong?”

“I want you to come out with me.”

“Honey, it’s three o’clock in the morning.”

“I want to spin around lampposts.” This idea is clearly a marvellous one and Jesse has no idea why Emma is being so negative about it. It doesn’t matter if it’s three o’clock in the morning when they could be spinning around lampposts. It’s even raining outside. It’s like the world is falling in line, to do exactly what Jesse wants it to.

In this case. Not in any other.

“What? What’s going on, Jesse?”

Jesse stares at the map on his bedroom wall, mentally reciting the names of all the middle-Eastern countries. “I want to re-enact that scene from Singin’ in the Rain.”

Emma sighs again and there’s a thump. He’s not sure what it is but he jumps anyway and asks her what happened. She snorts and says, “I think I should ask you what happened. You haven’t wanted to re-enact Singin’ in the Rain since you heard Anna got engaged.”

“I hate you so much,” Jesse says.

“Do you want me to come over?” Emma asks.

Jesse shakes his head and then realises that she can’t actually see him. “No. I want you to make Andrew stop doing what he’s doing.”

“I think you have to talk to him,” Emma says. She sounds so sensible. He hates it when she’s sensible, because it’s always when he wants to be ridiculous and that’s just not right. “You can’t be miserable all the time, sweetie.”

“I’m not miserable all the time.”

“Oh, honey,” Emma says, and she sounds so tired and so sympathetic that Jesse hangs up on her and curls up in a ball.

*

Jesse goes into work the next day. He is hungover and grumpy and it apparently shows. Justin nods at him, Joe smiles and Patrick waves. A couple of people say hi but there’s no real attempt to initiate conversation. Jesse appreciates it. He cannot imagine how he’s going to get through a day spent sitting at a computer.

Andrew lifts his head as Jesse walks by and smiles. Jesse cannot bring himself to return it and instead throws himself into his chair. It skids across the floor a little bit.

He’s been sitting staring blankly at the screen for about twenty minutes when Andrew appears.

He knows it’s him because he can smell his cologne but he purposefully doesn’t look up or around. It takes a real effort on his part.

Andrew perches on Jesse’s desk. Jesse looks up at him. He has his arms crossed and he looks serious. He’s frowning, the skin on his brow puckered as if he’s contemplating something very hard.

“I think we,” Andrew starts and Jesse starts to panic. His heart is beating so fast in his chest he’s worried it’s going to just slam its way through his ribcage. He can’t let Andrew do this. He knows it’s coming, knows that Andrew wants nothing more to do with him and he can make himself okay with that but he can’t let Andrew do this.

“I think we should stop whatever it was we are doing,” Jesse says. He’s panicking but his tone is flat and he’s going to great lengths to make sure his expression is blank. “It wasn’t working out. Clearly.”

Andrew’s eyes flicker and he bites his lip and stares at the ground. He’s gone pale but he doesn’t protest. He just swallows and takes a breath. Jesse mentally begs him to say something but he doesn’t. He just nods and leaves.

Every muscle in Jesse’s body is pulled taut and he feels like they might break if he doesn’t relax soon. He feels like he might break. His chest hurts.

Jesse starts writing an e-mail to his mom, his fingers shaking on the keys as he reassures her that he’s fine.

*

It takes a couple of weeks before Jesse can look Andrew in the eye again. He’s not trying to avoid him because that would be stupid and ridiculous. They work together, literally just across from each other: Jesse couldn’t avoid him even if he wanted to. Jesse is trying to be mature about this, reminding himself everyone goes through break ups. Everyone deals with this. It’s normal and they weren’t even really dating. He has no right to want to lie in bed and stare at walls and drink and drink and drink until he can’t remember how the curve of Andrew’s lips felt when he kissed his smiling face, or how the calluses of his hand felt against Jesse’s skin.

He has no right to, he tells himself, but he does it anyway. His flat is really quite small but it seems bigger than it should and his cats are nervous around him (he understands why, his anxiety and his OCD are playing up and he freaked out when one of the cats went into the bathroom and had a breakdown). People seem to realise something is up, because if Emma’s not there then Joe is or Justin is. He’s even still going out and gradually he feels better. He reaches equilibrium, after about two weeks. It hurts, but it isn’t the kind of hurt which make it hard to breathe when he’s in work and Andrew is right there. It hurts, but it’s not the kind of hurt which makes Jesse want to yell and shout and cry whenever Andrew smiles at him like nothing is wrong.

It takes Jesse nearly three weeks before he can look at Andrew when he talks to him, but they have been talking. Jesse thinks a reason he’s taken it this hard is Andrew’s relentless cheerfulness and his insistence that they still be friends. Andrew had avoided Jesse for a grand total of two days, before he was back-smiling and laughing and joking and touching Jesse.

The first day Jesse had locked himself in the bathroom and had taken half an hour just to breathe. Now, he’s convinced he can deal with it and when Andrew talks to him, he talks back. Cheerfully. His words aren’t mostly monosyllabic for the first time in a couple of weeks and he sees Andrew’s grin blossom and spread across his face. It makes his heart flutter in his chest but Jesse doesn’t run like he wants to. Instead, he smiles back.

Later, Andrew brings him a coffee. Jesse is staring intently at the computer screen and he only realises when there’s the clink of a cup hitting wood. He starts and stares the coffee for a second, before turning slightly to blink at Andrew’s already retreating back.

He doesn’t know what to think. But he thinks it’s a good day.

*

His mother’s e-mails get brighter, more cheerful and in one she says she’s so happy for him. Jesse pretends that he doesn’t know why. Jesse pretends he doesn’t watch the curve of Andrew’s neck as he works, pretends he doesn’t notice how comically wide his eyes get when he’s shocked or surprised. Pretends he doesn’t notice the smile which curves his lips upwards whenever he gets a new e-mail from whoever it is that he always e-mail.

He pretends he doesn’t watch Andrew and he pretends he doesn’t feel anything and it hurts like mad, but he pretends anyway.

*

They go out for a drink.

It’s not just them. Jesse is both pleased and dismayed when he realises this, but he still agrees to go. He doesn’t think he could cope with Andrew on his own just now. He’s pretty sure he would beg Andrew to take him back or do something stupid like just start taking off his shirt to see how he’d react. It says a lot about Jesse’s state of mind that right now, this sounds like a completely fantastic idea.

He tells Emma and she giggles. “I bet he looks good with his shirt off,” she says, sipping on her coffee. Jesse remembers and nods and changes the topic of conversation really quickly. Emma goes along with it and it’s quite clear to Jesse that she’s just pretending not to notice the way he feels, the same way he is. It’s okay, though, because this circle of pretending will be just fine as long as they all keep pretending and nothing happens to break the circle.

Jesse arrives at the bar that night with Justin and Emma and they make their way to the table everyone else is sitting around. Justin is talking very loudly about some story, which Jesse has heard before and somehow culminates with Justin getting laid. Jesse remembers the story because he’d been unable to believe Justin managed to get laid, considering his tactic of cutting a hole in a box and telling everyone there was a present inside (hint: the present had been his penis). If he didn’t know better, he’d honestly think that Justin’s entire existence was based on trolling the world.

As it is, Jesse is well aware that Justin has his shining moments and the compassion he can exhibit. Jesse is a little nervous because it’s going to be the first time he’s seen Andrew outside of work since they stopped sleeping together. While Justin tells his “my penis is a present” story and everyone around them laughs, he leans against Jesse’s side. His arm is slung over the back of Jesse’s chair, both a comfort and an anchor to keep him from running off. Jesse appreciates it.

Every now and again Andrew looks at him and Jesse can’t read his expression. He looks a little sad and a little hopeful. Jesse breaks eye contact every time and takes a drink.

It happens a few more times. Emma notices, because she notices everything and she seems happy about something. He wants to ask her about what, but she’s talking intently to Joe and then to one of Andrew’s closer friends in the company (he thinks her name is Keira, he could be wrong) and towards the end of the night, when Jesse’s at that drunken stage where he wants to dance like a marionette, he makes a move towards her and she grabs Andrew’s elbow.

He watches Emma drag Andrew over to a corner and he feels a little bit sick. Just for a moment. And then he thinks no, no, this is Emma, this is Emma and before his insecurities can rise up and take over Joe and Justin appear and Joe says, “Don’t be a fucking idiot,” and Justin gives him a shot and the world stops spinning out of control.

It does keep spinning, though. Jesse is not a good drunk. He is happy and giggly and he dances and dances and at one point he’s pretty sure he sings and performs some kind of bastardised routine of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” (he substitutes in Angelina’s name, a girl from accounts, because she’s been crying off and on all night with joy from getting engaged and everyone roars). Once he reaches a certain point, though, Jesse is useless and he knows it.

He’s fast approaching that stage, his limbs not cooperating with what he wants them to do. Jesse makes to head towards the bathroom, slowly placing one foot in front of the other. He’s stumbling and it makes him laugh and when he walks into the bathroom, Jesse is chuckling quietly to himself.

Andrew is leaning against the sink. He’s got his phone out and he’s squinting at the touch screen in that way drunk people do when they can’t quite get their texts to make sense.

Jesse stares at him for a long moment.

When Andrew realises he’s there (and how he didn’t hear him come in Jesse will never know) he jumps. Jesse giggles and takes a few stumbling steps forward.

Andrew’s brow furrows and the creases look so sad. So very, very sad. Jesse wants to smooth them out and make him happy. He walks up to Andrew and runs his fingers along his forehead, trying to do exactly that.

For a minute they just stand there, Jesse running his fingers over Andrew’s forehead and Andrew staring down at Jesse with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” Andrew asks.

Jesse shrugs. “You’re so beautiful.”

Andrew sighs. “You can’t do this to me.”

“You shouldn’t have-why did you not just let me be happy?” Jesse is vaguely aware that, without context, that doesn’t make a lot of sense.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jess,” Andrew says. Jesse is still dragging his fingertips across Andrew’s forehead, but it’s just for the contact now. Andrew has closed his eyes against the touch and Jesse thinks that his eyelashes are long, so long. He looks tired.

Jesse kisses him. A light kiss, against the corner of his lip were sometimes a smile will grow. He kisses him again, on the other corner, and again and again and again. Andrew stands there, still and seemingly not breathing but Jesse can feel him shaking. He places his hands against Andrew’s face and kisses him properly, fiercely.

Andrew kisses back. He bites down on Jesse’s bottom lip and it’s harsh and even vicious but Jesse doesn’t care, he doesn’t care because he’s done pretending for the night and he just wants Andrew to kiss him back and take his clothes off and fuck him senseless, even if it’s right here, in the middle of a dingy bathroom which has dubious stains scattered throughout.

He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud until Andrew groans and grabs at Jesse, pressing their bodies close together and half-burying his face in Jesse’s neck.

“You have to mean it,” Andrew whispers. “Do you mean it?”

Jesse nods and gasps when Andrew’s fingers work his way under Jesse’s shirt, lightly brushing against the soft skin of his stomach.

“Will you mean it when you’re sober?” Andrew asks. His voice is a strange mix of hope and fear and Jesse knows what that feels like and he nods and says yes and Andrew kisses him and he loves the world, he loves the world, he loves the world.

*

Jesse wakes slowly the next morning. For some reason, he didn’t think to close the blinds completely the night before and there’s sunlight streaming into the small bedroom. His hangover protests against the very idea moving and against the sunlight and the thought of simply lying in bed for a couple more hours is bliss. He feels warm and comfortable and someone’s arm is slung over his chest and he’d quite like to never move again.

Then his memory catches up with the present and Jesse tries not to freak out. He mostly manages it, although he jerks away from Andrew so quickly that he’s a little surprised Andrew doesn’t wake up.

It takes a while for him to calm his breathing. For a second, he contemplates rolling out of bed and locking himself in the bathroom or possibly throwing on some clothes and going to Joe’s. Joe is always good on hangover days, with his pizza and his beer and his endless collection of movies.

He doesn’t move, though, because just when he’s gotten to the point he’s seriously considering it Andrew makes this snuffling noise in the back of his throat and shifts on the bed. His fingers graze against Jesse’s stomach and he turns his head to bury his noise in the pillows. His hair looks ridiculous, sticking up at all ends, and Jesse has left bruises scattered across Andrew’s chest. He’s smiling in his sleep.

Jesse smiles dopily at Andrew and lies back, turning slightly on his side. This could be bad, he’s sure of it, and it will be when Andrew wakes up but for now he traces Andrew’s face with his fingertips and tries not to fall asleep.

*

The next time Jesse wakes up it’s because of his cats. They’ve clearly got fed up waiting for Jesse and decided he needed to come out into the living room and feed them. Sprightly (who is old and fat and shouldn’t be able to jump about as enthusiastically as he can) jumps up onto the bed and lands on Jesse’s chest. He’s already let out a wordless shout before he’d opened his eyes.

Andrew starts on the bed beside him and sits up. Jesse pretends not to notice by glaring at the cat.

“What?” he mumbles and Sprightly tips his head and licks himself, as if that really gives any indication. Jesse sighs and flops back on the bed. He really does not want to move, but now his cats seem to want him to and Andrew is looking about the room with the wide-eyed expression of a deer that has been cornered by hunters.

Jesse reaches out and touches Andrew’s elbow, drawing his attention back to Jesse. “Hi,” he says, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

Andrew is staring at him with those wide eyes. He looks very uncertain. “Hey,” he says and his voice is weaker than Jesse is used to.

Jesse can feel the fear begin to tickle the back of his throat. He wants to sprawl out and talk to Andrew like normal people who just slept together talk and he wants them to smile happily at each other and kiss, like they do in those films he may have watched more than is strictly necessary and he wants to drag his teeth over Andrew’s chest. He wants a lot of things, but the fear tickling his throat makes it hard to articulate them and he stops trying for a minute and looks at his cat again. Sprightly’s tilted head conveys the sheer extent to which he is judging Jesse.

He hears Andrew’s deep sigh and he remembers last night and Andrew telling him he couldn’t do that to him. He remembers Andrew saying he had to mean it and Jesse had, he had but he’s not sure how to make him understand.

“This was a bad idea,” Andrew says. He’s moving and every jerk of his limbs looks angry. Jesse tries not to let his eyes linger on the bruises on Andrew’s chest or the curve of his ass as he pulls his pants on. “You were drunk.” Jesse notices he doesn’t say I was drunk and his heart beats a little faster and his throat feels a little looser. “You were drunk and I was clearly being stupid and now you care more about your stupid cat and that’s okay, but I have to leave right now.”

Jesse blinks and says the first thing that comes into his head. “My cat isn’t stupid.”

Andrew spins around to glare at Jesse. He’s struggling to get his shirt on so it’s not entirely effective but it works nonetheless. Jesse feels himself blush and he sits up, pushing Sprightly onto the space in the bed which Andrew has just vacated.

Jesse clears his throat before he speaks. He feels naked (which is probably because he is) and vulnerable (which he also is) and he wants to pull the covers up from around his waist and wrap them around himself but he doesn’t because that would be weird and cowardly. He’s going to be brave because Andrew didn’t say I was drunk and that’s the most important thing.

“So, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jesse says. Andrew has got his shirt on now and he’s fixing it, but he stops when Jesse starts talking. “Well, I was. But I knew what I was doing, because, like, here’s the thing: I was pretty sure I was going to go and get drunk and beg you to take me back and that couldn’t happen, except it sort of did and that’s okay. That’s more than okay. I really like that.”

It is the worst, most awkward pseudo-speech Jesse has ever given. He’s looking straight at Andrew, though, and his voice hasn’t wavered and his hands aren’t shaking even if his heart is beating overtime. Andrew is still just staring at him and Jesse thinks he might have blown it.

“I’m sorry, what?” Andrew says. It is not the reaction Jesse expected.

“I don’t-what bit do you not understand?” Jesse asks, confused.

“All of it.” Andrew sits down heavily on the bed and rubs his temples. The room is incredibly quiet and Jesse doesn’t want to break it. “Why did you end this...thing we had?”

Jesse cannot lie. Not now. He has a feeling that retreating into himself and lying would make this worse and his insecurities make admitting his feelings difficult but he’s done it before. He can just imagine Emma’s reaction if he told her he clammed up now, anyway, and that’s enough to scare him into speaking. “You were pulling away,” Jesse says, calmly. He specifically does not look at Andrew when he speaks this time. “I don’t know what I did. I didn’t want to ask. I can-you were going to say something and I don’t know what it was but I couldn’t take the rejection, okay? I thought I could make myself okay with losing whatever it was that we had but I couldn’t let you just end it right there, in the middle of the office.”

Andrew has turned his body slightly so he can look at Jesse. He reaches out and touches the inside of Jesse’s wrist, to grab his attention. “I was pulling away,” he says. “I thought that you’d hate me.”

Jesse tries to form an answer but he ends up just blinking instead. Andrew huffs a laugh and continues, “You’re kind of adorable. Like, I woke up one morning and you were talking to your cats and saying something about your sisters? And then you said, ‘Yeah, I guess I really do like him, Sprightly.’ And that scared the crap out of me because I really like you too. And I don’t do well with really liking people because I mess it up because I’m too much and I don’t give enough or I want too much and I thought...I thought if we were just going to be friends and we weren’t going to be anything else that would be okay. But it wasn’t and I just wanted to kiss you all the bloody time and I went to tell you that and you said.” Andrew stops abruptly. “Well, you know what you said.”

Jesse opens his mouth to talk but Andrew stops himself. He looks like he’s trying to choke out words that don’t want to come and Jesse is an intimately acquainted with that feeling, so he lets him carry on. “And the thing is I didn’t think it bothered you. You were clearly going out with Joe and Justin and Emma and you were fine. You didn’t want to speak to me. I guess I understood it. Or I thought I did. Jesse, tell me I didn’t understand it.”

Andrew has the most open expression on his face that Jesse has ever seen. His eyes are wide and round and his mouth is halfway open. He looks hopeful and as vulnerable as Jesse feels. Jesse reaches for Andrew’s wrist, encircling it with his hand. “You didn’t understand it. At all. I wanted to kiss you all the time, too, so I avoided you.”

A smile blossoms on Andrew’s face, wide and happy, and Jesse smiles back. He leans forward and kisses Andrew, a soft press of lips.

Andrew smiles against the kiss and says, “I still think you’re pretty swell.”

Jesse laughs and pulls back, hitting Andrew lightly in the shoulder. “You are such a sap,” he says but it’s fond and he loves it and he thinks Andrew is pretty swell, too, and he feels like he could walk on air.

He kisses Andrew again and Andrew kisses back and Jesse feels like he could stay this way forever and never be unhappy again.