18

About half-an hour later, both their cups are empty. Winston mournfully gazes into the empty space where a delicious drink used to be and he plays a little with the cup itself; spins it around, pushes at it to make it wobble, spins it around again.

"Bored?" asks Jason. Winston flinches, eyes widening as he looks up at Jason. He opens his mouth but he doesn't have time to ferociously insist that he's very much not bored---in fact his mind is kind of so overrun with thoughts right now that he can't even hear himself think---before Jason rushes to say, "It's fine if you are! We don't really know each other, after all, so it's not odd if you are. I wouldn't be offended."

Winston's head slowly tilts. "Are... you bored?"

"No!" Jason vehemently shakes his head, and Winston wonders if he actually is and the force he shakes his head with is an overcompensation. But does it matter? Jason is here, regardless, and he seems to care about Winston's feelings. That's more than he ever dreamed.

"Alright," Winston nods.

Jason's eyes narrow. "So you believe me?"

"If I say I'm not bored, would you believe me?" Winston very cleverly turns the question around.

Now it's Jason turn to blink. "Yes?" he says, but it sounds very much like a question. Jason is looking at him, though, eyes wide and gentle, smile hopeful and his cheeks look rosy in this light, his hair fluffy and the curls tossing about over his forehead. He's leaned forward over the table and never really leaned back again, and he's sitting with his arms crossed and resting on the table.

Winston clears his throat after a second and says, "I'm not bored."

"I'm not either," says Jason.

Winston bobs his head and nearly tries to drink from his cup again before he recalls that it's empty. Instead of continuing with his hand moving to it, he thusly instead uses it to ruffle his hair. It wasn't very well-styled, anyway. And when Jason's eyes follows the motion of his hand, then the movement of his hair, Winston's throat closes up.

"I listened to the first episode of that podcast.. Empty Tales, right?" Jason starts strong and then descends into a question again, eyebrows furrowing.

Winston straightens, "Did you like it?"

"I did," Jason smiles. He tilts his head and leans even more forward over the table, taking up over half of it. Like this, he's looking up at Winston---for probably the first time ever. Winston has the clearest view of Jason's eyes that he's ever had, and his stomach flutters something fierce.

Jason continues, "It's the first time I've ever listened to a podcast but it's like radio theater, right? Like it's a whole story with actors and everything?"

"Depends on the podcast," answers Winston, hands waving as he adds, "Some are like mini-productions, like a one-man show. Some are big and have money and other actors. The greatest thing about podcasts is that anyone can do it as long as you've got a something to record with, so there are a lot of shows that are queer. Like, no talking around the subject, subtext only, but like actually queer."

"Wow," Jason says after a moment. His eyes are transfixed on Winston, doesn't waver for even a second. He even licks his lips, adds, "You're beautiful," in a distinctly breathy voice.

He sounds.... enraptured---if that was a thing that happened to people like Winston.

Winston licks his lips, and Jason's eyes follow the movement. "Thanks?" is Winston's rather belated response, and it sounds more like a question than anything. He adds, "You're beautiful, too."

Jason's lips part. "You think so?" he asks, in the smallest voice Winston has ever hear from him.

"Yeah," Winston breathes. He nods, "You are. You are ridiculously handsome, and your eyes ares super pretty and when you smile it's---" Winston snaps his mouth shut, wanting the earth to swallow him. He starts playing with his empty cup again, rolling it between his hands (?), and doesn't dare raise his eyes to look at Jason.

"Sometimes I look at you and I can't even think," murmurs Winston, and he doesn't even know where the words comes from.

"Really?" Jason asks, voice strangled, and now Winston looks up. Jason's blush is deep, and his eyes wide, and his grin is infectious.

"Really," says Winston.

Jason laughs. He rubs his eyes with his hand and his grin grows softer, fading a little but still undeniably bright. "I've had a crush on you for so long, Winston," Jason says, and Winston can't help flinching at that easy admittance, at outright stating his feelings. But Jason even continues, "My buddies kept laughing at me because apparently I look like a cat left out in the cold when I'm pining," Jason rubs his nose, and smiles at Winston.

Winston's chest feels tight, and he can't identify the emotions swirling inside him. He's simply staring at Jason wide-eyed, mouth open, stunned into silence. Can't even think, really.

And he has no idea how to respond.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of the student's keyboard in the other corner.

Eventually---Winston doesn't even know how much time later---Winston says, "Your friends know about-?" us gets trapped in his thick throat, his tongue heavy and unwieldy in his mouth. He does his best to smile, and Jason smiles in return so he mustn't do too bad a job of it.

"They know," Jason says, "I might have been... really obvious."

"I had no idea," says Winston hoarsely. Jason laughs again, but it's a warm laugh, a kind one that sends shivers down Winston's spine. It reminds him of hot chocolate, for some reason. He licks his lips, and tilts his head, and says, "I really didn't know you--felt something for me," and it sounds like he's speaking from miles away, like he's on the edge of passing out maybe.

"I said yes," Jason says, biting down on his smile. Amusement is practically radiating off him.

Winston scowls. He changes the subject, "You're on a sports scholarship, right?"

"I am," Jason confirms, letting the previous subject go. He still seems amused, though, but Winston very determinedly pretends not to notice that. Then Jason says, "I don't actually know what you're studying. I've seen you in some classes, but they don't really seem to connect?"

"You've seen me in classes?" Jason levels him with a stare, and Winston bobs his head, "Right. You've noticed me."

Jason doesn't even bother to hide it when he swallows his laughter with an amused grin. "So what do you study?" he asks instead.

Winston shakes his head. "I'm majoring in lit history," he explains. At Jason's blank look, Winston grins and waves his hands in the air as he continues to explain; "It's just the history of literature, and how it intersects with things like politics and wars and famines. I'm particularly interested in the literature from, to be crass, poor people, or people who at least weren't ridiculously rich. It's really interesting what such things can say about the world and it's state, and I really—" Winston snaps his mouth shut and half-grimaces, shoulders drawing up. "Sorry," he says, looking at the table, "I didn't mean to go off like that, I know I can be... a lot."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," says Jason. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, but you sound really passionate and..." Jason pauses, his mouth twisting ruefully- "Well, not to lie, but it's really hot." Winston's eyes widen, and Jason lowers his gaze and volume both, saying, "And I like when you sound happy, excited, like that."

Winston's brain temporarily stops functioning, all his thoughts screeching to a halt. That's been happening a lot lately, he manages to think. But he's not very concerned about it. So he simply blinks rapidly to clear his vision, lowers his shoulders and says, "Cool."

Then he launches straight into a long explanation of his major and what exactly it is that interests him so, and Jason looks utterly enraptured the whole way through.

Winston's heart is melting in his chest.