#hey meghna if ur seeing this ily thank you for letting me cowrite w you ur a genius

[tirednotflirting]

remind me how it used to be

we did it! we wrote a sequel to all too well jalex! (and by we i mean myself and the ever amazing and wonderful @reveriesofawriter)

alt title (aka meghna’s doc title): how you get the jack lol

once again it has been so much fun to build up this little world and write with meghna. especially in this where we got to play around some more with timeline and such like i feel like every time we would chat about or work on this fic i was learning so damn much. meghna, my love, thank you for making writing so much fun. this has been such a blast and i love these boys and this story so much.

lots of alcohol mention in this bc boyboy still owns a bar and i’m a total lush so as always there’s just lots of wine lol

if you wanna read the first part of this you can find it heeeeeere

and if ao3 is more your jam, you can find that for this part here

ps - bella we fixed it :          )

Jack pulls his door open expecting it to be Zack or Rian, but instead he’s face to face with someone who might as well be a ghost. Lightning flashes behind Alex as he stands two steps outside Jack’s front door, soaking wet with the first of the summer storms. His hair is plastered across his forehead, little rivulets running down his face from every strand.

The last thing Jack expects is for this obvious hallucination to speak, but as soon as he does, it’s a lot harder to believe he’s not real, a living breathing human, dripping with rainwater like he’s been out in the storm all day. “I wasn’t planning on asking this, but can I come in?”

Jack blinks a few times, thinking maybe it’s some kind of rainbow-type of mirage that’ll disappear with enough time, but Alex is still there. Jack wordlessly pulls the door open wider and leaves Alex in the hallway as he mumbles something about grabbing a towel and leaves the room. As if in a fever dream, he texts Rian that he might be going crazy. He grabs a towel and glances down when Rian replies asking wtf he means by that, but decides he should check and see if he really did imagine it all before involving other people in his overactive daydreams.

When he steps back into the hallway, Alex is still standing in front of the door, dripping water onto the hardwood floor. He’s wringing his hands like he’s uncomfortable, which makes two of them. Jack hands him the towel and tries not to watch as Alex runs it over his face and hair before wrapping it around his shoulders.

When Alex stops moving, Jack finally finds his words. “What are you doing here?”

Alex didn’t expect Jack to let him in when he got in his car half an hour ago and then sat there for a length of time telling himself it was worth it to drive all the way here. He didn’t expect Jack to let him in when the sky cracked open and started pouring rain the second he pulled out of his driveway – it was only a sign if he let himself think so, because it always rains this time of year. He didn’t expect Jack to let him in when he got a flat tire a couple blocks away from Jack’s house and decided fuck it, he was running the rest of the way if that’s what it took. He didn’t expect it even as he stood outside and rang the doorbell and saw the pure shock on Jack’s face when the door swung open.

And yet, here he is, drenched and cold and beyond uncomfortable for neither of those reasons after Jack said something about getting a towel and ran in the direction of his bedroom. Six months ago, Alex would have let himself in without knocking and made himself at home beside Jack wherever he was despite being wet, because Jack would be warm and annoyed but would cuddle him back.

Jack gives him a towel as promised and shifts awkwardly until Alex at least has his face dry. “What are you doing here?” he asks. It’s not an unfounded question, but somehow he doesn’t have this part planned out. Is this where he starts apologizing? For showing up out of the blue? Or for literally everything else?

Jack has been tiptoeing around him for nearly an hour, and of course he understands why, but it’s making his own restlessness that much worse. He’d called a towing company for his car and had made it clear that he planned on leaving as soon as they got there, but he hasn’t gotten a call yet and it’s only Jack’s hospitality keeping him from walking back to his car and sitting inside alone for who knows how much longer.

Alex hadn’t known how to start apologizing, so he hadn’t. He told Jack he got a flat tire and just happened to be close enough to drop by. He’d explained he’d been wanting to stop by anyway, but Jack was taking everything he said with a wary eye, and Alex couldn’t blame him, so he settled for small talk, hoping it would eventually stop feeling so forced.

“You’re teaching?” Jack asks. He’s sitting on a whole other chair, and it might as well be in another house.

“I am a teacher, that’s kinda my job.”

“I thought you liked having summers free. To explore the world and all that.”

Six months later and Alex wishes he wasn’t surprised that Jack remembers anything so minute about him. It almost gives him hope that maybe this isn’t just Jack being too polite to kick him out. “I didn’t feel like going anywhere. I guess I just wanted a distraction.” He hopes Jack knows he doesn’t mean he wanted a distraction from him, when Jack has been his distraction from everything happening around him in the direction of the future for as long as he can bear to remember. Almost the opposite, summer school is supposed to be distracting him from wanting to run. He’s made that mistake enough times to know when he has something strong enough and pure enough to hold onto. “Besides, paychecks from teaching only go so far.”

“I’m sure you would have managed.” Jack is still holding his empty mug even though he finished his tea a while ago. Alex hadn’t had to ask him to make it, but while he was on the phone, Jack had made them both cups and handed one to Alex as soon as he hung up. It was surely partly to give his hands something to do, but Jack still knows how he likes his tea, which isn’t nothing.

“I didn’t want to waste my summer when I had a reason to stick around.” Jack looks a little surprised, but otherwise Alex can’t read his expression. Alex switches which leg he’s sitting on so he’s leaning slightly closer to Jack. “I hate how things ended—how I ended things between us. I’ve regretted it ever since. You always deserved a better explanation, and I don’t- I didn’t leave. I always leave, but I didn’t, and it took me this long to figure out why. I’m sorry for everything I said. I wish I could take it all back.”

Jack has gone from surprised to shocked, and Alex doesn’t know if anything he just said makes sense at all. He’s supposed to be home modifying a power point about Henry VIII to fit the summer school curriculum, and instead he’s sitting in the heaviest silence he’s ever felt, because he can’t say sorry again until Jack says something. “I’ll be right back,” is what Jack finally says. He takes his mug when he leaves the room and Alex has a feeling he’s texting Rian in the kitchen, which is his cue to leave.

He pulls the towel off his shoulders and heads toward the bathroom where he knows Jack’s hamper is. It strikes him as he tosses the towel in that he still remembers where the hamper even is. It feels like lifetimes ago that he was in this house last. On his way back, he walks past Jack’s bedroom where the door is wide open. Everything looks the same; still warm and inviting and surprisingly tidy. The only thing that’s different is there are no more photos on the mirror. Of course Jack wouldn’t want reminders of him up on every wall. Of course he’d take them down after everything Alex did. In fact, he probably wouldn’t want Alex near his room at all, let alone staring into it feeling waves of bittersweet nostalgia that he’s still not sure he’s allowed to feel. He tears himself away from the doorway, heart pounding in his ears, and goes back to the couch.

By some miracle of timing, he gets a text from the tow truck guy saying he’ll be there in ten minutes, so Alex stands up. He wants to disappear and pretend he was never there, but more than that he wants to make sure Jack knows how sorry he is, that he’s willing to do anything to make him believe it, and mostly to let him know he never really fell out of love, not back then and not over the time they’ve been apart. Jack comes back without the mug and takes in Alex looking like he’s about to leave.

“Tow truck is almost there,” Alex says.

“I’ll drop you off,” Jack says, after a moment’s hesitation.

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s still raining, and you said you’re only a couple blocks away. It’s no big deal.”

Jack waits until they’re driving to say anything more, maybe so he knows Alex can’t physically escape. “Why did you really come over?”

It’s the simplest question he could have asked, all things considered, but it still catches Alex off guard. “I wanted to say sorry. In person. I want you to know I mean it. And I know it’s stupid to even ask, but I wanted to see if you’d be willing to give us another chance.”

Jack finds Alex’s car easily where he’d said it would be. “What’s different this time?”

If there’s one thing Alex knows about history, it’s that it repeats itself, but Alex is determined to stop it this time. He doesn’t know how, but Jack hasn’t said no, so as far as he can tell he’s on the edge of a second chance. “I won’t be afraid to tell you what I want, and I’ll try as hard as I can to make sure it’s the same as you.”

“What were you afraid of?” Jack asks. A pair of headlights shines at them as the tow truck pulls up from the opposite direction.

“That I wasn’t enough, I guess.” Alex blinks in the bright lights. He watches the faint shadows of the rain on the windshield warp Jack’s face. “So?”

“Come by the bar sometime. I don’t have an answer for you yet.”

Alex pushes the door open and heads back out into the rain to talk to the tow truck driver who looks less than thrilled to be there. Jack gives him a small wave as he drives away, and it’s not a no. It’s almost enough to pin some hope on.

-

“Lizzie, have you seen the inventory sheets anywhere? Rian needs them for the ordering tomorrow,” Jack asks his lead bartender as he steps behind the bar. He immediately ducks down to check on the shelves below the card reader since he swears he saw it there a couple days earlier when he hears a familiar giggle somewhere above him on the other side of the bar.

He quickly stands, the folder he was looking for now in hand, and feels his knees give out just slightly at the view he’s met with. “You’re back.”

“Had to come back,” Alex says, every syllable flirted. “Lizzie makes the best paloma in town.”

“Alex, please. I’m blushing,” Lizzie jokes back as she wipes down the counter. She lets out a laugh when her eyes catch Jack’s still stunned look. It’s the second time this week Alex has come to grab a drink after work. He’d been a lot more hesitant walking back into the bar earlier in the week, his nerves obvious at being back in another space that belonged to Jack. He had stayed sitting at the bar far past what Jack knows his weeknight bed time to be in order to small talk and more casually catch up while Jack organized behind the bar. Jack still hadn’t been ready to give him an answer to his question then. He wanted to be smart about this and having Alex back at the bar, smiling and telling stories from his classroom, had him so over the moon he was almost sure he was in a dream. It was one he had had numerous times in the first few weeks following the breakup. It had always been the small, casual moments with Alex that felt the biggest back then. 

Now, the more confident, easy going approach Alex seems to be taking tonight is far more like what Jack remembers Alex being like when seated at his bar, a tiny straw tucked between his lips and his legs likely swinging back and forth below the seat of his stool.

He clears his throat and leans against the counter in front of Alex. “Always in here distracting my employees.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Alex returns while fluttering his eyelashes and leaning to rest his cheek against his palm.

Jack bites his lip as a small smile pulls at his lips. They’ve been here before. He knows what game Alex is starting and he’s not afraid to admit silently to himself this time that he’s missed being a player in it. “I literally own the place. You’d indirectly be paying me for my own drink.”

“You’re ruining my line,” Alex replies with a teasing smirk. He drums his fingers against the bartop and lifts a brow as if challenging Jack to reject his offer.

Jack lets out a short laugh and shakes his head before slipping the inventory folder under the cash drawer for Rian to get tomorrow. “Lizzie, can you get me a Tito’s on the rocks?”

The girl still standing beside him behind the bar laughs as she scoops ice into a glass before reaching for the vodka. “That going on his tab, boss?” she asks with a smile while glancing between the two of them.

“It is,” Jack answers while playfully rolling his eyes before walking around the bar to take the stool beside Alex. Instinctively, he reaches a hand up to flick at Alex’s recently bleached bangs that sit over top of the red bandana tied around his head. He thanks his bartender when she slides the drink across the counter to him and he can’t help but pinch himself again to be reminded that this is actually happening. That Alex is here, in his bar, smiling like the sun while sipping a fruity cocktail. That they might be giving this another shot.

It feels familiar and it feels good and Jack knows that they should, that they need to take this slow. That despite how serious he could tell Alex was about this last week, Jack needs to be checking in on things more often this time around to make sure he protects his heart.

“How was summer school today?” he asks before taking a sip from his glass. And then Alex turns to face him and launches into a story about trying to get teenagers to focus on the Revolutionary War when they would much rather be at a beach or the mall or anywhere that isn’t a high school classroom. He laughs along with Alex while he tells him about the elaborate excuses he gets for late homework and tries to ignore the electricity he feels run up the entire length of his body when their feet knock together below the bar.

They banter back and forth for long enough that all of Jack’s typical Thursday night patrons come and go before he even thinks to check the clock on the wall and see that it’s getting late. Once they reach a brief lull in their conversation, Jack reaches for their glasses to push toward the back of the bar to be collected by the bartender that came in to replace Lizzie.

“Are you going to be good to drive?” Jack asks as he turns back to Alex, the bright blush painted across his cheeks being the cause of the questioning.

(He wants to believe the blush is at least partially from the flirting they’d mixed into their back and forth tonight but he’s seen Alex mixed with tequila enough times to know it’s always best to check.)

“I’m just a little tipsy,” Alex says with a grateful smile while reaching for a pen to sign the receipt that’s been placed in front of him. “But I also Ubered tonight so I’ll be plenty safe.”

“I could give you a ride?” The offer leaves Jack’s lips without a second thought, his protective nature over the boy in front of him returning without a trace of hesitation.

The smile pulls further at Alex’s lips as he pulls on his denim jacket. “Sure,” he says with a nod. “If you wanted to keep me company while I grade quizzes, that could be nice too? Might help keep me awake?”

It’s a dangerous game they’re playing but Jack’s mind immediately starts wondering whether or not the bowl by the front door for keys is still the one Jack had painted at a studio on one of their earlier dates the previous fall or if Alex ever got around to alphabetizing the books on the shelves in his living room. There’s only one way to find out, Jack tells himself. And they’re bound to make it to this point again eventually, right? He had Alex back in his space last week and no kind of catastrophes occurred. 

“Let me grab my keys.”

-

The bowl sitting on the table beside the front door is the same though there’s a few more chips in it that tells him Alex is still prone to knocking it over after getting home from a night out or a shitty day at work. The cheap white wine he offers Jack once they’ve made it as far as the kitchen is also the same as well as the mug he automatically gets for Jack when he rejects the offer of wine but accepts a tea. 

Alex leaves him in the kitchen to go grab his work bag while the water boils. Jack takes a deep breath as he inspects the room, trying to note differences that show that some time has passed since the last time Jack was here. There’s some new polaroids up on the fridge, the gallery for candids usually taken during parties, of Alex and some of his coworkers. There’s a small succulent sitting on the edge of the counter that could probably use some water. A container of muffins with a heart drawn across the lid sits on the island and Jack assumes from the floral design around the edge of the clear plastic that it was likely sent home with Alex the last time he visited his parents.

Nothing is drastically different though. If Jack tried hard enough he could easily pretend no time at all has passed since the last night he drove Alex home after a night flirting across the bar. For a moment he lets his daydream run off and he can see himself trying to distract Alex while he checks his email with kisses pressed against Alex’s cheeks and fingertips drawing patterns against his shoulders left bare by whatever tank he’d thrown on practically the moment they arrived back. Jack can picture himself tripping over his own feet while shuffling through the kitchen to make them tea and he can hear Alex’s giggles at his tired movement as he pushes himself up onto the counter. He can see Alex’s rolling eyes and a smile when he finally gives up on trying to finish the last of his tea and lets Jack sleepily pull him down the hall. Jack is starting to think of kisses being pressed against the tattoo below his ear while trying to brush his teeth when present Alex walks back into the kitchen as the kettle clicks off. Present Jack remembers that he’s supposed to be taking this slow and being careful this time. (Rian would be proud Jack is remembering his words of advice given his current situation.)

“Think I’ve got that herbal tea you like if you want that,” Alex says with his back to Jack as he searches through a shelf in his pantry. Ironically, he’s changed into a faded band t-shirt cut into a tank and it’s really not helping Jack’s swirling nostalgia.

“Whatever you’ve got out already is fine,” Jack says while moving to take a spot at one of the barstools behind the counter, something about placing the structure between the two of them giving him a greater sense of control over the situation. 

Alex turns then, the familiar tea box Jack keeps on his own kitchen counter held in his hand. “Too late,” he smiles softly before turning back to the kettle and mugs. Jack watches as he moves methodically through the actions of preparing the two cups. He feels some tension he hadn’t even noticed lifting off his shoulders when he watches Alex move to the fridge and return with a couple lemon wedges and when he reaches for the bottle of honey in the spice cabinet. Because of course Alex remembers the exact way he takes his tea. He moves through the motions in the same way Jack had the night a soaked Alex had shown up at his door and he had instinctively made tea for the two of them. He feels two parts of his brain battling over the thought of how both of them kept the other’s favorite tea in their pantry, as though always wanting to be ready to welcome the other back into their spaces in a familiar fashion.

“Let me know if you want more honey,” Alex says while pushing the mug across the counter in Jack’s direction, the smile still pulling gently at his lips. Jack lifts the mug to his lips and immediately takes a sip despite knowing it’ll scald his tongue. It doesn’t need more honey because of course it doesn’t.

Jack keeps the mug close to his lips and blows cool air across the surface as he moves to take a seat on the couch. 

Alex sits in front of him on the other side of the coffee table, his laptop open to a spreadsheet beside him on the floor and a stack of the mentioned quizzes to be graded sitting on top of the table next to his own mug of tea. This exact setup crashes another similar wave of nostalgia over Jack. It had been a common occurrence for Jack to find himself on Alex’s couch to watch him grade on a Friday or Saturday night last fall after locking up at the bar. Back then he would have traded his work clothes for something comfy from Alex’s closet without thinking twice and he probably would have accepted the offered wine over a tea. It would only have been a matter of time before Jack convinced Alex to ditch his work in favor of making out on the couch until they somehow managed to drag themselves down the hall to the bedroom.

Now the other side of the coffee table feels like a mile away and Jack can’t tell if he wishes the distance were shorter or longer.

The question dancing on the tip of Jack’s tongue jumps out easily once he finally pulls his mind from the memories of how a night like this would have ended what feels like a lifetime ago. “What are we doing?”

Alex punches a number into his keyboard before looking up to meet Jack’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you invite me over?”

Alex bites nervously at his bottom lip as his eyes look up to the ceiling. “I figured maybe we could talk? There’s only so much serious conversation that can happen when Lizzie is watching our every move.”

Jack leans forward and sets his mug against the coffee table. He folds his hands together in his lap to avoid reaching out from something else to hold on to. “Why did you end it?” he asks. He can’t help but feel annoyed at how quiet his voice sounds. “Everything was going so good, I still don’t get it.”

“I was afraid,” Alex says after a moment, his head shaking a little. “I felt like if I couldn’t keep pace with you I would just fall behind and then we’d just end up on completely different pages. It felt like I couldn’t see where we were going and I didn’t want to hurt you by questioning it.”

“So ending things altogether seemed like a better option?”

“At the time it felt inevitable. I couldn’t make sense of any other kind of ending and I didn’t want to drag it out. I know it sounds ridiculous in hindsight but that’s where I was.”

Several beats of silence pass between them. Jack runs a hand through his hair as his mind tries to make sense of what he’s being told. Before he can come up with a response, Alex takes a deep breath and speaks again, his tone more careful than before. 

“What do you need from me to consider giving us another shot?”

“I need you to be honest with me,” Jack sighs, aware that his voice sounds somewhat defeated. “I need you to tell me if you’re scared, if you want to hit the brake a little. I need you to talk to me about these things instead of running away. I wasn’t going anywhere and I would have been fine to slow down a little bit but I had no way of knowing how you were feeling.”

Alex opens his mouth as though to respond but this time Jack starts speaking again before he gets the chance. “But I also just need a little bit more time. Things were really rough for a while in the winter. You’ve gotta give me a minute to wrap my head around all of this, okay?”

Alex takes a shaky deep breath and nods slowly before picking up his red pen again. “I can do that.”

His eyes fall back to the papers in front of him and the pair of them fall back into as comfortable of a silence as they can manage, the sound of Alex’s pen against paper and his occasional typing echoing between them.

It’s maybe twenty minutes later when Jack finishes the last of his lukewarm tea and a yawn falls from his lips. He looks up when Alex quietly giggles and Jack watches as he tucks the now graded papers into a folder. “I’m going to go put these away but maybe it’s time we call it a night?”

“Think so, yeah.”

Jack watches Alex take his things in the direction of his bedroom and he pulls himself off the couch. He collects their mugs and takes them to the sink, quickly rinsing them and placing them in the dishwasher before heading to the entryway.

“You kept the bandana,” Jack states when he hears footsteps approach behind him while he’s pulling on his shoes by the front door, very aware that Alex is still watching his every move. 

“What?” Alex asks. Jack finishes with his laces and turns to face him again while leaning against the door, his hand absentmindedly reaching for his keys in the bowl.

“That bandana you gave me so we could match,” Jack explains, his fingers nervously playing with his keychain. He should have just left it, no point in bringing this up now, probably. “In that box you gave the most random shit back to me, even a ripped up picture, which I sort of thought was against your religion or something. But you kept that.”

Alex takes a couple steps toward him and Jack feels his back press further against the door, his body instinctively still trying to put some distance between them. “Honestly, it’s probably still in my car. I think I got so used to seeing it in there, I forgot it didn’t technically belong to me anymore.”

“But you remembered the pack of gum definitely wasn’t yours?” Jack says, his voice just barely teasing.

“I think it’s been well established I wasn’t in the best state of mind at that point,” Alex says with a sad smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. He looks down at the ground and sighs. “Do you want it back?”

Jack shakes his head with a short laugh. “No, don’t worry about it. I was just always curious about that. It’s okay.” 

He watches Alex nod and play with the hem of his shirt. Jack reaches for his jacket and pulls it on before turning to unlock the door. “I’ll see you around soon, Alex.”

“G’night, Jack. Drive safe.”

-

Alex is sitting cross-legged on Jack's desk, waiting for Jack to get back from whatever meeting he was at. He hadn't told him there even was a meeting, but he’d had no reason to. Alex showing up at the bar is still new and sporadic enough that Jack shouldn't be able to predict his moves, and maybe that's how Alex likes it for now, even if it has left him a little bored. He'd walked in to see a party happening, and if Lizzie hadn't been behind the bar he's sure he would have been sent home. The place is currently being taken over by people in formal outfits for some kind of private event. There wasn't a sign anywhere saying what the occasion was. Lizzie had made him a vodka soda on the house and sent him into Jack's office to wait for him, saying he should be back in around fifteen minutes. That had been fifteen minutes ago.

He had started on Jack's spinny chair, and then he'd almost knocked a decorative glass bottle off a shelf by accidentally spinning into it. Therefore: on the desk. He's entertaining himself on his phone for the most part, even though school has left him a little stressed and he would love to be at home unwinding somewhere he can stretch out. The floor is starting to look inviting. He also has a quiz to write for next week, and since summer school moves faster than the regular semester he can't just reuse an old quiz. It shouldn't take that much effort, and yet he's been splitting his attention between his phone and a little dinosaur planter sitting on the shelf that isn't the one he almost knocked over.

 -

Alex hadn’t known what to expect from the moment they’d pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall. The only place here that had made an ounce of sense for a date had felt like the pizza place at the end of the strip, but they were parked far enough away that that felt improbable. He got out of the car slowly as Jack grabbed something from the back seat that turned out to be wine. The sign on the window said BYOB so at least one of them was prepared. Alex looked up. The Clayhouse. He wouldn’t have guessed Jack was this artsy, but he wasn’t about to turn down an afternoon with Jack and a bottle of red.

“A dinosaur?” Jack asked, laughter playing in his voice even if he wasn't laughing out loud. “Are you five years old?”

“I think he's cute.” Alex hadn't been set on that specific planter, but if Jack was making a big deal out of it, it had to be that one. Looking over the ones nearby – a hedgehog, a llama, a turtle – the dinosaur was the only one that made sense. All the other pottery options were very... grown up. There were some beautiful examples of artistically painted plates and bowls around the front desk, but he knew his skill level and it was not that. Jack had picked a bowl though, and Alex was intrigued by how that would turn out, especially after they uncorked their wine.

 Messy, was the answer.

“Don't laugh at me!” Jack said, wiping blue paint off his arms from tipping over his whole tray of paints onto the table. In his meticulous painting of his dinosaur's eyes and smile, Alex had missed the process, but somehow blue was the only color that got on Jack. The rest of the colors – and there were many colors – were slowly spreading across the table. Alex kept laughing as he got up to grab more paper towels before the paint creeped close enough to the edge of the table to drip off.

“I'm not,” Alex said, though he was biting back more laughter behind his grin. He wiped up the majority of the paint. The rest of it looked like it would stay on the table.

Jack sighed. “Did I get it all?” he asked, twisting his arms around.

Alex tilted his head. “There's still blue up there, behind your elbow.” He watched for a moment as Jack tried to wipe it off, but he must not have been able to see it because he managed to swipe at every bit of his upper arm except that one spot. “Let me get it.” Jack stilled the second Alex grabbed his arm. Alex got the paint off and then suddenly noticed how close their faces were, the way as soon as he looked at Jack's eyes he almost forgot to breathe, how he could smell the wine on Jack's breath, not to mention he was still holding Jack's arm.

“Is it gone?” Jack asked sort of quietly.

Alex glanced down and back up, taking a small step backwards but not letting go. “Um, yeah, you're not blue anymore.”

Jack lowered his arm out of Alex's grip. “Thanks.”

Alex cleared his throat. “What happened?”

Jack shook his head. “I almost dipped my brush in my drink, and then went to dip it in the water and almost knocked that over, and then knocked the paint over instead.”

“You've had one glass, how are you that clumsy? Or is that your natural state? I'm learning so much about you.” Alex grinned as Jack looked increasingly embarrassed.

“I'm not that much of a lightweight, give me some credit.”

“So you're just uncoordinated?”

“You tell me.” Jack gestured to the bowl in front of him. It was painted in uneven stripes going all around it, with a yellow splatter on one side where the spilled paint had hit it. The inside was still a blank canvas.

“That doesn't make you uncoordinated,” Alex said. “That just makes you bad at painting.” He watched Jack's face as he looked from the bowl to the half-painted dinosaur. “You know, I don't really understand your date logic. Why this? Because if you're trying to impress me with your painting skills...”

Jack laughed and picked up his drink. “No, my painting skills are not impressive. But movie dates are boring early on and I don't know what food you like yet so I didn't want to take you to dinner.”

“All true.” Alex picked up his glass too, sipping his drink at the same time as Jack. “You know what I am impressed by? This wine.”

Jack's smile grew.

“You brought me here to show off your taste in wine?”

“Well you've seen the bar and I didn't want to invite you over to my place on a second date to look like I'm trying to get you drunk—”

“For the record, I'd be okay with that.” Alex peered at Jack over the rim of his glass.

Jack looked at him curiously before continuing. “I drive past this place all the time when I go to get brunch with my friends, that’s how I knew about it. And it gives us something to do while we talk.”

“You really thought this through.”

“Some would say I thought about it too much.”

“Are ‘some’ your brunch friends? Fuck them. This place is fun, they’re missing out.”

Jack had stopped after one glass, not that Alex had noticed, so they took the rest of the bottle home along with their painted creations. Alex had them cradled carefully in his lap in the car so they wouldn’t fall and break. To his surprise, Jack didn’t drop Alex off but drove them to his own house where the bottle was reopened, and he asked Alex if there were any foods he didn’t like before ordering Italian. Over pasta and garlic bread, they agreed that Jack would keep the dinosaur and Alex would take the bowl with him. Alex took the bowl and as many wine-tinted kisses as he could before he got a ride home. The bowl had ended up on the table just inside his door where he usually tossed his keys and wallet. He’d never thought that table needed anything, but somehow Jack had filled in a gap he hadn’t been aware of. He did that more often than Alex had realized at the time, which explained the way he’d felt like his world was falling apart at the seams as soon as Jack wasn’t there holding it together. There was no reason for Alex to stick around, but there was nothing else he wanted to look for anymore.

The office door swings open and Alex’s attention is finally pulled from the dinosaur. The leafy plant growing out of it is nice and green, and bigger than Alex remembers it.

“Hey,” Jack says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Alex shrugs. “Wanted to hang out, but there was a party so Lizzie put me in here. She didn’t tell you I was here?”

“She was busy with the party. Why are you sitting on the desk and not the chair?”

“I almost knocked stuff over, but everything is fine.”

Jack looks around the room, probably making sure everything really is fine. “Well I wasn’t planning on staying long since Lizzie has the party under control. What were you staring at? You look… dazed.”

“Just… thinking about the dinosaur.”

Jack nods slowly. There’s not much else to say about that. And if Jack is going home soon, Alex doesn’t want to invite himself along, and he’s in no position to try and keep Jack here no matter how much he wants to break through whatever walls Jack still has up. He knows better than to try to rush it. He just has to keep asking for bricks until there are none left between them. “Rian didn’t know it was from you, or he would have sent it back with the rest of your stuff he pulled out of my closet.” He doesn’t ask Alex to move from his desk so Alex decides to stay until Jack leaves, or asks him to.

Alex thinks briefly about the box that had been left on his porch the day after he’d sent some random assortment of Jack’s things back to him. There was no reason for him to have been so cruel in hindsight, considering most of his memory ties to Jack were and still are stacked in a box that he’d almost sharpied a label onto, but he hadn’t known what to call it. There hadn’t been a way to make the breakup seem more official, he’d thought, than giving Jack back his things. Rian had returned masses more, answering Alex’s unasked question of where half his wardrobe had disappeared to.

He fiddles with his phone in his hands as he watches Jack put away papers and whatnot from his meeting. “You wouldn't believe how close I came to calling you on your birthday.”

Jack looks at Alex like he's speaking nonsense.

“Still birth-month though. Little late for birth-week.”

“Why didn't you?”

“I—” Alex almost spills that he turned his phone off the whole day so he wouldn't be tempted. “I didn't know if you'd want to hear from me, especially on your birthday. And I was scared. That if I called and you ignored me that I'd just never try again.”

“You don't have a very clear idea of the way you left me,” Jack says matter-of-factly.

“I mean, you took down the pictures on your mirror so I'm starting to get an idea.”

“Actually I burned them.”

If Alex's mind was a car on a track, that car just hit the brakes hard. “Oh.” He's emptied of words to say, as if he wasn't already reaching for small talk. He's never known conversation with Jack to be so stilted; from their first exchange it had been nothing but flowing back-and-forth which led easily to open heart-to-hearts. He's also never known Jack to get rid of mementos. He wasn't as bad as Alex, who still holds onto receipts from places he goes that mean anything to him, but those weren't just pieces of paper. They were gifts. Which means either Jack had no idea what it meant for Alex to give them to him at all, or… “I never meant for those to end up being painful. I know that's not fair, and don't get me wrong I know I have no right to feel anything about it, but I- I'm sorry.”

“In my defense, I didn't think we'd be back here.” Jack has a smile playing around his lips, and Alex feels better knowing he isn't making him feel guilty about it. Alex can't imagine how bad it must have felt for Jack to end up burning those pictures. He hadn't assumed the breakup was easy on either of them, but walking away from Jack always felt like the worst decision he'd ever made from the second he did it. It felt like the biggest injustice to think that Jack had felt anywhere near as bad as he had, or worse. “I’m gonna head out.” Jack pushes the drawer shut.

Something is falling just out of reach and Alex doesn’t know what it is but he knows he can’t let it go now. He swings his legs over the edge of the desk. “Happy birth-month.” Tries for a hopeful smile. "Thirty-three looks good on you."

Jack quirks an eyebrow, one hand on the doorknob, like he’s not sure where this is going. Fuck if Alex knows either. “Thanks.”

Alex wishes he knew how to handle being in the same space as Jack again. He wants to tear through the awkwardness by saying he owes Jack a present and then kissing him like they’d never missed a beat. “I’ll walk you out.”

“It’s my bar.”

“And I’m being a gentleman and walking you out.” Alex hops off the desk and waits for Jack to open the door. Jack gives him an extended look of confusion before pulling the door open. Once it’s locked, they wave goodbye to Lizzie, who’s still on the floor with the party guests.

Outside, Alex realizes he doesn’t have his car since he’d showed up planning on staying long enough to have a few drinks. He follows Jack to his car, trying to figure out whether Jack will offer to drive him home or if he should inconspicuously try to call a ride. Jack answers his question when he already has his door open before asking, “Are you getting in?”

“Are you offering me a ride?”

“That or I’m kidnapping you in broad daylight.”

“I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

-

Alex was sitting at the bar, swinging his legs back and forth to the music. It was considerably louder than it had been when there were customers, but Jack had locked the front door and told him to stay put so he could finish cleaning up. The nights when he had to lock up alone were rare, but Alex never minded staying longer. If he was more sober he might have been helping. But Jack had assured him that the best thing for him to do was not try and help, which was fair enough after the glass incident last time. Alex maintained that it wasn’t a big deal and no one was injured but Jack seemed to remember it differently.

So he was controlling the playlist, and as soon as the freshly mopped floor was dry he was up and dancing to the pop music he’d chosen. Jack kept looking up from cleaning and restocking under the bar and whatever else he was doing to give him very endeared looks, but it wasn’t as sweet as it ideally could have been.

“Come dance with me,” Alex said, leaning on the bar and giving Jack his best pout.

“I’m almost done and then we can go home and dance.”

“You’re boring at work, you know that?” Alex bounced his head to the beat and watched Jack roll his eyes fondly.

“You’re literally a history teacher. You wouldn’t dance at work.”

“Lucky you can’t visit me at work and prove it.” Alex started singing along with the chorus, hitting the harmony as he got back into dancing. Jack was still watching him with a smile, so Alex, still singing, went behind the bar and grabbed his hands.

“What are you doing?” Jack laughed. Alex didn’t stop singing. He swung their arms in a motion as close to dancing as he can manage without Jack’s participation. “I only have a couple more things to do and we can lock up.” Jack’s logic was taking them nowhere, so he gave in and let Alex dance him around for the rest of the song. Alex didn’t know how he did it, but right as the song ended Jack got him back into his seat, letting go of his hands and kissing his forehead before he went back to work.

Alex sat there and let himself just watch Jack work through cleaning the soda guns like it was all routine, and it was, and he’d been given a nice little spot in this world Jack had built for himself and cared about so much. He sighed a little, coming down from the burst of dancing energy. He reached over to grab his camera and snapped a picture. Jack didn’t even look up at the flash anymore, but he smiled to himself as Alex waited for the picture to print. He held it close as the colors set in. The bar was dark but Jack lit up the photo as much as he lit up the room. The music cut off suddenly and Alex looked up.

“Told you I was almost done,” Jack said, pulling his office door closed. He pulled on his coat and waited for Alex to do the same.

“You could have let the song finish.”

“I thought you were in a hurry to leave?”

“I was in a hurry to spend more time with you. We can do that here.”

Jack grabbed Alex’s coat and put it around his shoulders. “Or we can go home where it’s warmer.” He handed Alex his camera. “And there’s more room for dancing.”

-

Alex looks down at the box. He’s put a lid on it, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of homesickness overflowing from it. It’s sitting at the base of his throat like a cry that refuses to come out. It’s his own fault and he knows it. He knows the way he felt that night could have stretched out forever, and that’s almost worse than knowing their relationship might have had an expiration date. He can only reason so much that it was for the best, but if that was true he wouldn’t feel so broken. He wouldn’t feel like separating Jack from the rest of his memories was the same as trying to surgically remove him from his life. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jack hated him now.

He opens the box without looking into it and pulls out the very last photo. It’s all he can do not to look at Jack’s smiling face before he tears it in two, and then tears those halves into even smaller pieces until he’s left with the saddest pile of confetti to ever exist.

-

There was no good reason for the twinge of nerves he felt in his stomach when Jack had whispered that he hoped the new year was the start of forever for them. He knew they’d only been together for five months, and he knew with nearly as much certainty that Jack knew that too. He also knew he loved Jack more than he’d loved probably anyone ever, so why did Jack cementing that make him so uneasy? It was uncomfortably similar to the way he’d felt a few weeks ago when Jack had met his parents at his birthday, the way he’d fit in so seamlessly without Alex having to so much as facilitate an awkward conversation between the four of them. He’d told himself then not to follow that feeling, because there was no way it would lead anywhere good. He wasn’t sober enough to be second guessing himself now, but he also usually tried not to let himself dwell on the feeling so maybe now was the time.

Jack had given an enthusiastic and mostly comprehensible toast right before midnight. They all counted down and then right before kissing him, Jack had leaned over like he was telling him a secret. Alex’s nerves had been doing little circus tricks ever since. Luckily Alex wasn’t nearly the furthest gone, and then Jack was playfully yelling at Rian to get his dirty shoes off his bar. Rian complied by kicking off his shoes in two different directions, and then he pulled Jack up with him. Jack didn’t bother taking his shoes off. Rian gave another shout for a happy new year and everyone else cheered in return as he smacked a kiss on Jack’s lips. Jack shoved him away. They were both laughing.

“You okay?” Lizzie asked, appearing next to Alex. “Don’t go getting jealous or anything, they’re always like that.”

“No, I know,” Alex said. He took a sip of his drink, eyes still on Jack.

“I know the whole cliché about bartenders being therapists is fake but I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Alex considered it. The last thing he needed was to pull one of Jack’s employees into the middle of whatever storm was brewing in his mind. Not to mention, it wasn’t her responsibility to reassure him about anything. If he was so concerned, he could have a mature conversation with Jack later when they were alone. He looked over at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly, bringing her straw up to her mouth. “It’s nothing,” he said finally. “Late night for someone who’s used to getting up at six for school.”

She didn’t seem convinced but thankfully didn’t press him on it.

 Later showed up sooner than Alex expected, when Jack pulled him into his office and shut the door. He was almost expecting to be shoved against the door, but Jack just wrapped his arms around Alex’s neck and hung off of him. Alex laughed a little even though he was getting slightly more nervous by the second just thinking about bringing up anything. Jack started pressing kisses up his chest to his neck and Alex decided that it was not the time for talking about anything serious.

“Thanks for not abandoning me to deal with my drunk ass employees all by myself,” Jack said when his wandering lips reached Alex’s ear.

“How was I supposed to kiss you at midnight if we went to different parties?” Alex joked. The music was still loud through the door, and he could have sworn it was getting louder.

“You didn’t save me from a kiss from Rian though.”

“No one told you to climb on the bar.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

“Like I could have stopped you.”

“Fair enough.” Jack kissed the spot right behind Alex’s ear.

“Jack—”

“I really love you, you know that?”

Any doubts on the tip of his tongue ran straight back inside. “I love you too,” he said easily. With the way he could feel himself overthinking everything else, he was glad there was at least one thing about them that’s solid. He couldn’t talk himself out of loving Jack, even if everything about them staying together scared him more than he’s willing to admit.

Alex went home the next day with two different pictures of the night. One was a group shot of everyone in their glittery party regalia that nearly everyone there took a photo of on their phones to post online later, and the second was from after they’d stumbled back to Jack’s house. They were lying in Jack’s bed, and Jack looked like a hangover waiting to happen, but Alex managed to keep their eyes open long enough for him to snap a picture of them cuddled together, Jack’s face half buried in Alex’s shoulder. He hadn’t waited to look at the photo before turning the lights out and falling asleep right there with Jack’s arm across his chest. The next morning, the photo was on the bedside table right beside his camera, kicking that cloyingly familiar twist back into his stomach.

Jack was still asleep when he tucked the photo into his jacket pocket so he wouldn’t forget to take it home with him. Alex had almost wanted to run out right there, but Jack deserved better than that. So they woke up and Alex pretended everything was fine as they went through the motions of breakfast, albeit much slower than usual. Jack had to go back to the bar that afternoon to look over the disaster zone they’d left behind, and Alex frankly needed more time to nurse his hangover, so they’d parted ways at Jack’s front door. He was bemoaning his headache at home over greasy fast food when he reached into his pocket and really looked at the picture for the first time. He couldn’t describe the feeling that washed over him. It was almost regret, except he knew that it wasn’t Jack he was regretting. It was just the feeling that now’s his chance to turn back.

-

Alex has always been able to make do with a general idea of when things happened in his life. It’s the reason he’s never bothered with labelling the boxes that he puts all his polaroids in. It usually doesn’t line up as one box per year, or one stack per month, or any other significant measure of time. Every now and then there will be a photo from a birthday or other event that works as a marker for the passage of time. Nothing has ever felt important enough to keep close track of. He’s never been part of anything world-changing or even life-changing that felt like it needed a date written on it to remember it happened. That is, until Jack.

He hasn’t been writing dates on all his pictures with Jack, but as soon as he’s gone two weeks without seeing him, knowing that he’s going out of his way to avoid seeing him again, it’s making him think maybe it’s time to start sorting his photos a little better. As soon as he’s home from grocery shopping, he drops the bags on the kitchen counter and goes straight to his bedroom closet. He pulls out the most recent box and knows just based on the pictures at the top of each little stack which ones were taken after he met Jack. He pulls them all out and sets them on his dresser until he finds an empty box to put them all into. They have to be separate. It gnaws at him that it feels more like a gesture of Before and After than just trying to isolate one person from his memories, as if it’ll help him forget and move on.

He does his best not to dwell on any particular pictures as he moves them around, but glimpses of moments flash before his eyes before he can stop them. Pictures of dates, of wine-drunk after-midnights, and more than he would care to admit of Jack only seconds before a flash went off to make him aware of Alex taking the picture. The one on top of the last stack isn’t the most recent picture, but it might as well be the last good one. It’s the last one he can remember taking before the feeling of being pulled too tight started being a constant in his life. He’s considered that he could have just talked to Jack about it, but there’s only so much Jack could have said or done to help. If Jack had held him tighter, he would have felt more constricted, and if Jack had given him space, they would have ended up exactly where they are now, as far apart as they can be without one of them leaving town.

-

Jack’s friends were still a few minutes away when Alex asked their server for four mimosas since he could practically feel Jack’s nerves from where he sat beside him. Alex sighed a gentle laugh and placed a hand on Jack’s bouncing knee as his head dropped to rest on Jack’s shoulder. “You good, babe?”

“Great, yeah,” Jack responded, though it sounded like he was further away than right beside Alex in the booth they were seated at just a few minutes earlier. He glanced around the restaurant, his eyes moving across everything in the room aside from Alex. His face scrunched up some as though he were trying to study the vintage posters and signs on the walls. All Alex could do was laugh. 

“Oh my god, you’re nervous about introducing your friends to the boyfriend,” he laughed, his tone gentle but teasing. He lifted his head and sat up while he turned in his seat to face him better. Jack bit his bottom lip against the small smile that pulled at his lips as he looked down at his lap, a bright blush painting it’s way across his cheeks. Whether it was from being called out on the cause of his nerves or Alex’s use of a title that had only been established a few days earlier, he couldn’t tell.

“You’re the first guy I’ve ever brought to Sunday brunch, okay?” he mumbled, his right hand moving to cover Alex’s still placed comfortingly on his knee. Alex caught on easily and turned his hand to tangle their fingers together before letting their joined hands rest against Jack’s thigh. “This is a very sacred tradition. We’ve been doing it since college. It’s a big deal that they suggested you come along.”

Alex smiled and squeezed their palms together. “Then I’m honored,” he said before leaning over to press a kiss against the corner of Jack’s lips. “Now relax. This’ll be good practice for meeting the parents.”

Jack sat up then and laughed. “Meeting the parents will be a breeze. My mom is probably already picking out color palettes for the rehearsal dinner.”

Alex mentally brushed away the spiral his mind started to form at the mention of a wedding in any form and winked at Jack. “I can practically hear my mother arguing with florists.”

Jack’s face lit up with another bright laugh and then mimosas were being placed in front of them and thoughts of a future beyond the meal they’re about to have were forgotten. They had each only just taken their first sip when Rian and Zack stepped up to the table. Alex stood and extended a hand out to Zack. “Hey man, nice to meet you, I’m Alex.”

Zack returned the handshake and smiled. “Same to you, I’m Zack.”

“And good to see you, Rian,” Alex said with a grin as they all moved to sit. 

“Wait, you guys know each other already?” Jack asked while gesturing between Rian and Alex. Alex couldn’t help but giggle as Rian rolled his eyes. 

“Jack, we literally work in the same place,” he started before pausing to take a sip from his drink. “And he is sitting at the bar making tequila heart eyes at you like, at least two nights a week. You really thought I would never introduce myself to someone my friend was obviously dating?”

Jack blushed again before grumbling a quiet fair enough into his mimosa. Alex chuckled and turned to press his lips against Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Alex said. “I wasn’t too drunk the night he decided to say hello. And Lizzie had my back to let him know that I don’t suck.”

Their server arrived at their table then to get everyone’s order (though really just Alex’s since the other three were there enough that they greeted the blushing teenage girl by name as she walked up with a pen and pad ready). The conversation flowed easily among them. Jack and Rian bounced off of each other as they told funny stories from things at the bar that week while Zack talked about the people he saw pass through the ER the night before which prompted Alex to ask a dozen or so questions about nursing (listen it’s never too late for a career change, guys, I’m curious). When prompted, Alex groaned briefly about grading essays and exams. Fall break was about to end for the kids so he hadn’t seen much of the world beyond his apartment walls while grading midterms for the last week.

As they started sipping on their second round of mimosas, Alex noticed Jack relax beside him and smiled when an arm was thrown around his waist and Jack’s head settled against his shoulder. He felt like he might actually fit in with Jack's friends, all of them still laughing easily over their drinks, until Rian turned to him.

“So what are your intentions with Jack?”

“Uh,” Alex said, feeling like he was getting too much attention all of a sudden.

Jack groaned and rolled his eyes. “We're gonna get married and have fifteen kids, is that what you want to hear?” He looked up at Alex through his lashes. “Ignore him.”

“Good,” Rian said. “I've always wanted to be an uncle.”

“We’ll try not to disappoint you on that then,” Alex replied, the smooth nature of his words influenced by the floatiness he felt from the drinks. “We’re having fun right now. That’s what’s most important.”

“Happy for you two,” Zack smiled at the pair of them. “It’s been awhile since we’ve seen this one so happy with someone.”

“Hush, you guys are worse than when my mom calls,” Jack groaned, though his appreciation at their comments didn’t go unnoticed by Alex. He sat up then, his arm still secured around Alex’s waist as he lifted his other arm to get the attention of their server. “Are we still watching the game at my place after this?”

-

Alex hadn’t considered when he started weaving his days with Jack’s life that it would be hard to pull the threads apart. If he’d let himself think about them beyond the next date, he’s sure there wouldn’t have been so much to untangle. Because there wouldn’t have been more than one date to speak of.

But he’d stopped counting dates, stopped counting days and weeks, and the only reason he could keep track of time with Jack at all was through school deadlines and holidays. He’d cleared photos off his dresser more often than usual, and every time he gave Jack a photo to keep, it felt like an accomplishment. He’d finally found someone who understood his weird mnemonic device despite having a pretty good memory – he does teach history after all. Jack hadn’t made a big deal of it so Alex hadn’t either, but Alex knows one of the photos lives – lived – in Jack’s wallet. The rest of them had started to frame the mirror in Jack’s bedroom. It was cute in the same way as Jack’s bartenders knowing his drink order based on the day of the week.

It’s a Saturday, and if Jack hasn’t changed his work schedule, Jack should not be at the bar that night unless there’s a special event, which there doesn’t seem to be based on the noise. Alex is not planning on drinking, and if he so much as sees Jack’s shadow he is getting right back into his car and driving in whichever direction he sees first. Jack had “promoted” Rian to weekend manager back near the end of fall, when he figured out it would line their free time up more without having to take time off sporadically. Alex hopes he hasn’t redone his schedule since.

He walks into the bar and it looks startlingly familiar. He doesn’t know why he felt like it would look different, but the tables and barstools are all exactly where they’ve always been. The only thing that’s different is Rian staring at him blankly, which is less terrifying than if he was glaring, and then Zack on the other side of the bar, jaw hanging open like the two of them were in the middle of a conversation.

Alex feels like he’s being pinned down by their eyes on him so he takes a step forward so he’s out of the doorway. He knows this isn’t a bad idea, and that as much as Jack’s friends are protective of him they’ve never been mean to Alex so at the very least anything they do to him will be justified. The thought is almost scarier than Rian’s stare. Alex takes a quick look around, mostly checking to make sure the lights are off in Jack’s office.

“He’s not here,” Rian says. Alex relaxes a little, which takes Rian from emotionless to confused. “Can I get you something?”

“Preferably to-go?” Zack says under his breath, and Rian pretends not to laugh.

“No, I… no.”

“Okay?” Rian says slowly. He keeps watching Alex. It’s unsettling. Alex feels like he should say something, but there’s no precedent for what to say to your ex’s best friends when you walk into their space unannounced less than a week after showing up on said ex’s doorstep in a thunderstorm. Alex doesn’t know if they even know about that, although it’s a safe bet that they do.

“You wanna sit down?” Zack says after an awkward amount of time. Rian gives him a look and Zack shrugs like he couldn’t think of anything better to say.

Alex walks up to the bar slowly and sits down, leaving a seat empty between himself and Zack.

Rian leans against the bar and fully stares Alex down. “What are you doing here?”

“Maybe I missed you,” Alex says, faking a smile. It works a little, because Rian snorts a laugh.

“We heard about your little car mishap last week,” Rian says.

“Yeah, bad timing.”

“Must’ve been, for you to go to Jack’s house instead of waiting in your car for a tow truck like a normal person. Don’t say you happened to be close by, you live halfway across town. What are you doing?” Alex feels like he should clarify that it had only been drizzling when he’d gotten out of his car, but that’s not the point he’s supposed to be making. “And don’t say you missed him. That’s not on him.”

Alex wishes he had a drink as an excuse to not talk, but instead they’re both still staring at him, waiting for him to answer. “I made a mistake.”

Zack frowns slightly. “Which was?”

“Breaking up with him.”

Zack and Rian exchange a look. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Rian pushes.

“I want to apologize. To Jack. And to you for asking for your advice on how to get him back.”

Zack laughs. “You want us to give you advice?”

Rian shakes his head. “You didn’t ask for our input before breaking his heart, what’s different now?” There’s that question again. “If we told you to go back to his front door with a diamond ring, would you do it?”

“No, but only because I know it wouldn’t work.”

“Sounds like you don’t need our advice,” Zack says.

“I’m not going to go behind his back and tell you anything you don’t already know,” Rian says. “But he told you he hasn’t decided yet. Start there.”

He has no more answers than he arrived with, but it’s a good sign that Rian didn’t throw him out on sight, or that Zack didn’t physically throw him out as Alex knows he is fully capable of doing.

“You’re right, Jack’s more a flash mob guy than a diamond ring anyway,” Zack says. “He likes music more than shiny things.”

“Yeah, a flash mob or one of those planes that writes things in the sky?”

“Write him a song.”

“Buy him a new car.”

“What about a hot air balloon ride?”

Alex nods and stands up. “Nice to know I’m not rich enough to date either of you.”

“In your dreams,” Rian says.

Alex catches them exchanging another look as he turns to leave, and maybe he’s just hopeful but it looks a lot less unfriendly.

-

Jack knew he wasn’t going to get any more work done as soon as Alex walked in. He’d made a valiant effort for almost five minutes, but he could see Alex through his little window getting more and more antsy. He’d let Alex have a few drinks, and then let Alex’s fingers dance across his legs as he tried harder and harder to remember he was still at work, even if he clearly wasn’t working. His bartender, bless her, who also happened to be the manager that night, was doing her best to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping even though she definitely was.

Eventually, Alex brought up that he couldn’t drive back home, and Jack took the opportunity to offer to drive him, which was why he was standing outside with Alex all but hanging off him as he patted down his pockets and realized his keys must still be in his office. Alex pouted when Jack told him to wait a minute, but he wasn’t driving without keys and Alex isn’t driving at all so he didn’t have much of a choice.

He hurriedly grabbed his keys off his desk and locked his office door behind him. He was about to let Lizzie know she needed to lock up when she leaves but she was one step ahead.

“So boss, you got a crush?” Lizzie raised her eyebrows and shot a look toward the door. “Who’s the guy?”

She’d been listening to them flirt all night, but Jack could feel his face getting warmer anyway. “Can I get away with playing dumb?”

“Try me.”

“What guy?”

“Not that dumb.”

Jack laughed nervously. “He came in a couple weeks ago when you were out sick.”

“Oh nice, I did you a favor then. Can I say you owe me one?”

“I think I did you a favor by providing entertainment for half your shift.”

She smiled and shook her head. “He’s cute. Touchy drunk though. I wonder what tequila would do to him instead of whiskey.”

“Goodnight,” Jack said pointedly as he left.

As soon as he was out the door, Alex was back at his side.

-

Jack is more familiar than he should be with this situation. Lizzie still seems to think they’re cute and that Alex looks like he’s trying, but Rian keeps telling him to be careful, and it’s not helpful that Zack is trying to be impartial but is clearly also on Rian’s side. He can’t blame them for it. They saw him at his worst just as much as he did. Almost.

Alex closes his door and looks over at Jack as he puts the car in reverse. “You don’t have to keep driving me home. Not that I don’t want you to, but you don’t have to keep going out of your way if you don’t want to.”

“I’d call you an Uber myself if I hated driving you home,” Jack says. It’s somewhat of a bar rule so that everyone leaves safely, but Alex would have ended up being the exception even if it wasn’t a standard. Besides, over the last couple weeks every time Alex has come in he’s let his walls down just a little more, as if Jack isn’t the only one getting used to the idea of them spending time together again.

Alex smiles a little as they pull out of the parking lot. They let the music fill the space for most of the drive until they get to the last light before Alex gets out. “I can tell you what’s different this time,” Alex says. Cars are driving across the intersection, heading a lot more places than anyone would expect this late at night. Jack isn’t watching the cars as much as watching the lights reflect off them as they pass. He turns a little toward Alex to show he’s listening. “My therapist says I need to stop trying to control how things are going to turn out because it’s impossible to know what’s going to happen all the time, and worrying about it is only going to make me too stressed to pay attention to things in real time. That I can’t stop caring just because it might not last forever. And then my mom told me I was stupid to let you go just because I was scared.”

Jack doesn’t realize the light has turned green until the car behind him honks. He swears he’s a better driver when Alex isn’t sitting beside him being distracting. He doesn’t know what to respond to first, but he takes the easy bait. “Your mom was right.”

“She was. They both were.” Alex pauses as Jack pulls up to the curb. “I don’t know why my reaction to being scared to lose you was to break up with you but I won’t do it again. If, you know. But I have to know, can you give us another chance? I know you said you needed time, but—”

“Okay.” Jack says it before he can stop himself but he doesn’t want to take it back. Alex snaps his head up to look at him. It’s not like Jack hasn’t been on the verge of giving him a second chance for weeks, but it does feel different all of a sudden, fuck what Rian thinks. It doesn’t feel like falling, it almost feels like butterflies.

“Really?” Alex says, expression caught between disbelief and almost too hopeful. Jack knows the feeling.

Jack nods and feels his growing smile mirroring Alex’s in the orange of the street lights.

“Are we starting over?”

“I don’t think we have to start over, just…”

“Slower?”

If they’re already back to finishing each other’s sentences, then slower is going to take a while for them to figure out.

“So you still have Sundays off? How about dinner?”

“Don’t you have school on Monday?”

“Why do you make it sound like I’m a student?” Alex asks childishly. “It gives us a reason to have an early night. A cutoff point.”

“Your bedtime.”

“A boundary. For starting slower.” Alex smiles.

Jack isn’t surprised by how thoughtful Alex is being without really having a conversation about it, but it’s reassuring to feel like he’s not starting another series of mistakes. “Are you cooking?”

“Only if you bring the wine.”

“Oh I see, you’re just using me for my connections.”

“Always have been,” Alex says, laughing when Jack does. He pushes his door open and then pauses and turns around. Leaning over the center console, he kisses Jack on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his mouth. He leans back, blushing slightly, but Jack reaches out and pulls him back in for a real kiss. It’s not exactly moving slow for them to be kissing like this before their first date, but Jack couldn’t care less with how much he’s missed Alex.

Alex pulls back to catch his breath and lets out a shaky laugh. “Is that a preview of Sunday?”

“If you’re lucky,” Jack says. Alex leans in for one last kiss, quick and sweet, before getting out of the car. “I’ll see you then.”

“If you’re lucky,” Alex repeats with a smile.

-

Alex is dancing around the kitchen in an apron, using a spatula in the place of a microphone, when Jack arrives on Sunday night.

He’s let himself up per Alex’s request with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of peonies. He leans against the counter and listens to Alex sing along to some pop song he likely learned from his students. He probably could have gone on watching for longer but then the song changes and Alex’s hilarious dance moves with it and Jack can’t help but laugh. Alex spins around then, his cheeks a bright red and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. 

“Enjoying the show?” Alex asks, his sarcasm flowing, as he drops a hand to his hip and points his spatula microphone in Jack’s direction. 

“Excellent dinner entertainment,” Jack says with a smile. “Ten out of ten.”

“You’re a brat.”

Jack laughs brightly. “Yes, but I am a brat with the wine,” he says, and points in the direction of the drawer beside the sink. “You still keep your corkscrew in the same place?”

Alex nods. “Yep, and I’ll grab glasses.”

Jack opens the bottle and pours them each a generous glass of the red he spent far too long deciding on at the liquor store the night before. They catch up on how their weeks have gone since they last saw each other. Jack tells a story about some bachelor party he had to kick out on Friday night while Alex finishes the pasta thing he’s decided on making tonight. Alex talks about the truly ridiculous things he’s read in his student’s essays on World War II. 

Their banter and jokes come back without any hesitation and Jack can’t help the smile that’s been spread across his face since walking through the door a couple hours earlier because he forgot how easy it was with Alex. How even on days when all Jack wants to do is be alone and not speak to anyone that never includes the man sitting beside him at the kitchen island because conversation with Alex feels like breathing. 

Jack insists on doing the dishes since Alex cooked and Alex only agrees so he can hunt down a vase for the flowers. Jack is just finishing up drying a pan when he feels something get tucked behind his ear. He leaves the towel on the counter and reaches up and feels the petals from one of the flowers beside his eye. He turns to meet Alex’s bright gaze with own questioning one. 

“You look pretty,” Alex responds, simply.

Jack leaves the flower tucked behind his ear as he refills their glasses and takes them over to where Alex is sitting on the couch, his body sitting up as he adjusts the placement of the flowers now in a vase on the coffee table.

“Thank you again for these,” Alex says as he leans back and accepts the glass of wine being held toward him. He takes a sip and hums before dropping his head against Jack’s shoulder. “It’s been too long since I had something alive other than myself living in this room.”

“Kill all your succulents, then?” Jack teases. 

“Only that one I kept in the corner over there that you always said would die because the light couldn’t reach it,” he gestures toward the empty corner where the spiny succulent used to sit. “The rest I took to my classroom to brighten up that space.”

The conversation shifts then to inquire about the plants Jack keeps at his place (Did the peach tree make it through that frost in April?) and more back and forth about their jobs and activities from the last several months that they hadn’t hit during their exchanges at the bar during the few weeks prior. Eventually the conversation comes to a gentle lull as they lean against one another while sipping at the last of what’s in their glasses.

“Wait!” Alex jumps up suddenly and jogs in the direction of his room. He reemerges only seconds later, before Jack even has time to question his actions. In his hands is the familiar, scratched up instant camera and a permanent marker.

“Okay, now don’t move but smile,” Alex instructs as he hits the power button and brings the camera up to frame the shot. Jack only laughs as he feels a familiar (and god, greatly missed) blush paint across his cheeks as he looks toward the lens and smiles. The flash momentarily has him seeing spots as he hears the picture print while Alex tucks himself back into his side. He throws an arm around Alex’s shoulders, his fingers playing with the collar of the soft t-shirt while they watch it develop.

He looks goofy, as he always does, but happy. So damn happy. He watches Alex turn the picture over and scribble down the date and a small heart. “Since when do you write the date on them?” he asks. He never remembered Alex doing that before and he knows for a fact that all of the ones that got handed off to him don’t have anything added onto them.

“I figure if I label them then it’s less that I have to hope just sticks in my head, ya know?” Alex explains as he turns the picture back to the front, his thumb running up and down the side of the print. Jack watches him place it inside the pocket on his flannel. “I want to be more present. Figure this might help.”

Jack feels his eyes soften as he lets out the last bit of breath he hadn’t even realized he’d still been holding this entire time. He trusted Alex, he trusted that they could make this work again, that they would somehow be able to take things slower this time. But there had been just a sprinkle of worry still left somewhere in his mind about keeping this space-obsessed, dreamer of a man with both feet on the ground and his head below the clouds. And something about this tiny gesture and Alex’s reasoning for it told him all he needed to hear to make that last bit of worry blow away. 

He turns to face Alex more fully then and takes in his tired eyes and wine-stained lips. Jack lifts a hand to cup his cheek, his thumb tracing below his eye. “I’m really happy we made it here.”

Alex turns his face to press a kiss against Jack’s palm before looking back to meet his eyes and lean into Jack’s hold. “Me too.”

They spend another moment (or two or three) just sitting together in the middle of a moment that normally would have Jack’s mind racing with anticipation but instead just feels calm in a way he hasn’t experienced since the last time he spent a wine drunk night lounging on Alex’s couch. He’s starting to worry that they’ll fall asleep (and he knows that they’re both a bit too old to be falling asleep on the couch on a school night), when he gets an idea.

He sits up and a sleepy Alex follows the action, his confusion obvious as he blinks his further open. Alex points to the camera on the end table behind Alex. “Hand me that?”

Alex catches on to Jack’s plan and smiles as he reaches for the camera, hitting the power button again before handing it to Jack. He holds the camera out as far as his arm allows and throws his left arm back around Alex’s shoulder to pull him into his side. Alex lets out a gasped laugh as Jack presses his lips against the top of Alex’s cheek, and just barely notices the flash through his squeezed shut eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” Alex continues laughing as he lets himself get pulled impossibly closer to Jack while they watch the photo develop.

It’s a blurry shot since Jack is out of practice on keeping the camera still but the joy is obvious on Alex’s smiling face and even on Jack’s as he smiles into the kiss against Alex’s cheek. Their fingers brush as they both try to reach for the picture but Alex snatches it away while using his free hand to reach for the marker and scribbling a matching caption to the other picture onto the back. He turns back to Jack and holds the print in between them. “You should keep this one.”

Jack smiles wide. “Just like old times, huh?”

Alex’s expression softens for a moment and he reaches a hand up to the back of Jack’s neck as he brings their lips together briefly. Alex pulls away just enough the rest his forehead against Jack’s, and Jack can’t help but notice how for the first time in a long time he’s not swimming in nostalgia or making up a future he’s not even sure exists. Right now he’s just here, with Alex, and that’s all that matters for now. 

It’s summed pretty perfectly he thinks when he feels Alex’s laugh against his lips and whispered words. “Maybe like new ones, too.”

*