52

Locking himself in Gary's room, Winston rests his forehead on the back of the door. A whole army's worth of clothing hangs on it, so it's soft and pleasant on his skin, and it smells like Gary--albeit a sweaty Gary.

But even that doesn't gross him out.

Inhaling, he bounces his head on the door, just once. Just to clear his head, stop the spinning, the swooping sensation in his stomach. He grip clenches on a hoodie, and he burrows deeper into the fabric, ignoring the smells and the vague feeling of some kind of stain. It's probably soda.

Probably.

Exhaling on a carefully construed breath, Winston pushes off the door and trips backwards, landing on the bed and bouncing once before it stills beneath him. He stares at the ceiling; there are glow in the dark stars glued up there that don't work anymore, and the ceiling itself is painted some kind of beige shade.

He can hear Janet and Liam moving about in the rest of the apartment; hear the TV and the sound of vacuuming. It's not the yawing emptiness in his chest like he's used to, but he doesn't know how to deal with feeling so--full, instead.

Like he's full of air. Like he's going to float away. Like he's a balloon and he oh so fears popping.

Because this can't last, can it?

It doesn't make sense.

Things being decided so quickly, so decisively, doesn't make sense. It should be harder, he thinks. Convincing Janet that he's serious, that he doesn't mean anything bad, that he'll pay his dues, that should be harder. She shouldn't have just accepted his word.

It shouldn't be this easy.

Groaning, Winston sits up. He shambles around on the bed to get the phone out of his jean's back-pocket without standing, and then scoots around until he's sitting again. Staring at the black screen, he sweeps a finger over it and a picture of Winston, Gary and Jason snuggling on Jason's couch pops up.

He thinks if either of them saw what the picture of his lock-screen is, he'd probably die right then and there.

Staring at it, he draws in a deep breath and unlocks the phone. Calls Jason without any fanfare, holding his breath as he waits for the call to picked up.

It takes a while.

Finally, the tune changes and Winston is speaking before Jason can get a word out. "Jason," Winston murmurs into the phone, holding it tight to his ear, nearly crushing the appendage. "I talked to Janet, Jason," Winston says, tongue stiff.

"Did it go well?"

"Yeah," breathes Winston. He looks at the door, beyond which he can hear voices though he can't tell what exactly they're saying. Again, he rasps out a "Yeah" following by a "She said yes."

"That's amazing, Win," Jason says.

"Yeah."

Jason asks, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," says Winston, then murmurs, "It shouldn't be this easy."

"Well, you asked. She took you seriously, thought about it, and said yes. That's a good thing, right?" asks Jason.

"What if it's a trick?" tumbles out from his lips before Winston can stop it.

Jason is silent for a moment, so long that Winston's eyebrows have furrowed, he's frowning, and he thinks it all went wrong somewhere but he doesn't know where. It's so easy, is all.

It's not supposed to be easy.

"Has Janet ever tricked you before?" Jason asks at last.

Winston thinks about it, scours his memory, biting on his thumb. "No," he says after a minute. "I don't think so."

Jason hums. "Do you think she's the kind of person who'd trick somebody about something like this? Something so important as a home?"

"No," says Winston, quicker this time. He shakes his head for good measure. No, he doesn't think that. Janet has never been anything but kind to him, even when he started spending more nights sleeping on Gary's floor in a week than his own apartment.

Jason says, "So then why would she trick you now?"

And Winston doesn't have an answer for that.

He shakes his head, but Jason can't see that. Biting his thumb again, he feels the flesh beneath his teeth, the grooves in the skin forming from his bite. "She wouldn't trick me," he mumbles around his thumb, slowly letting go of it.

Jason doesn't respond--Winston doesn't blame him, he wouldn't know how to handle this conversation if it was aimed at him. He's not even sure how to handle his own thoughts.

"She wouldn't trick me," Winston says again, a bit louder, less of a mumble. His eyebrows furrow. "So then. I'm moving in?"

"Congratulations, Win," says Jason. It's soft, and Winston's stomach clenches on just the sound of Jason's deep voice, the softness that he can never quite get used to. That he's never prepared for. His stomach squirms, a fluttering in the pit of it, and he presses his lips together tightly.

"Thanks," Winston croaks out after far too long, voice cracking in the middle. He rubs his blurry eyes, pressing the palm of his hand to it as he viciously scrubs until his vision blackens. Then, he exhales and falls back to lie on the mountains of pillows against the headboard.

Jason says, "I'm happy for you," and Winston doesn't know how to deal with that, either.

So he just hums.

Lying on the bed, he turns so he can see the shelf Gary has. It's full of nothing but figureens and action figures, and he names them all in his head as his vision flicks from figure to figure. They're all well-taken care of, delicately treated and dusted and Winston's eyes fall on the three figures he gave Gary as a birthday present. They've got center stage on the shelf, standing proud as a trio even though they're from vastly different material.

He gulps.

"Thank you," says Winston, again. Thank you for everything he doesn't say, but he thinks the tone carries it across.

Jason laughs softly, "No worries, Win."

Winston thinks if he could blush, this would be the moment for it.

Clearing his throat, Winston shakes his head a little to empty his brain, coughing to get the lumpy sensation out of his throat, and he rubs at his eyes again as he asks, "What have you been doing today?" in a shameless attempt at changing the subject.

Jason lets him get away with it, ignoring the way that Winston sniffles every once in a while.

"I went with the basketball team to the natural museum in town. Coach said it was some kind of bonding exercise but honestly," Jason laughs a little, "It didn't really feel like it."

"You guys didn't bond?"

"No well, we've already bonded, you know. There aren't any like, outright hostilities or anything on the team. I mean, obviously not everyone is friends with everyone, but we all get along and can work together." Jason sighs, "But Coach thinks we need to deepen our bond for the big game."

Winston nods, even though nobody can see it and it help no-one. Jas0n goes on, "Clyde nearly knocked over a whole cabinet at the exhibition, though.

"For real?" Winston can't help but ask, smiling as he tries to picture it.

"Yeah, he was rough-housing with Jensen and Tony and things got out of hand. They knocked into a cabinet and like. My heart stopped for a second." A pause, then Jason snickers, "Coach scolded them for over ten minutes."

Winston snorts. He looks at the door when it's softly opened, and Gary sneaks in with a wave and a grin. Winston waves back, scooting over on the bed to make room for him, and Gary slinks across the room in quick steps.

"Hi," Gary mouths as he settles in, making grabby motions until Winston pulls a pillow out from underneath him. Then Gary holds it to his stomach, sighing as he lies down and rests his head on Winston's chest.

Winston stares at him, listening to Jason's continued recounting of the adventure at the museum. He brushes a hand over Gary's hair,

"Gary's here," Winston says when Jason pauses in his story.

"Alright," says Jason, "Do you wanna go?" Winston hums, unable to say the words out loud. It feels selfish, and mean, and like he's taking advantage of Jason. But Jason says, "Cool, so we'll talk later? You know you can hit me up at any time, baby."

Winston snickers. "Yeah, I know," he says. He looks at Gary peacefully lying on top of him, and his chest constricts and he asks, "Do you wanna come over? Here? Like, to Gary's place? I mean not today but--" Winston snaps his mouth shut and forces the babbling to stop.

"I'd love that," answers Jason.