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Jackson awakes to a series of knocks on the front door. He slowly blinks the sleep from his eyes and draws himself from the bed. The clock on the wall says it’s 9 in the morning. Ronald and his tíos were at the store, readying things up, luckily leaving him to his own devices. They definitely weren’t the ones downstairs. They’d use their keys.
So who could be knocking on his door at 9 AM on a Saturday?
Slipping out of bed, walking downstairs, flicking loose hair from his face; he didn’t have time to gel it.
Jackson opens the door, expecting the mailman, only to find Ken standing in the doorway. Ken was wearing a black, sleeveless T-shirt with the logo of a famous band, a chain necklace, several earrings, his well-known fingerless gloves, and jean shorts.
That’s when Jackson registers that he’s still in button-up plaid-pattern pajamas, that he has the top two buttons left undone, that his binder is visible, and that he has mussed up hair. He is not ready for this.
“Whoa . . .” Ken breathes out, face red, taking in Jackson’s look. He looks cute. Then he collects himself. Stop. Stop thinking that, stop thinking. “Heyyyy, Jack. G’morning.” He does an awkward half wave that he immediately regrets.
“Morning,” Jackson cocks an eyebrow.
“So. I kinda need your advice. With something.” Ken smiles shyly.
Jackson sighs playfully. How could he deny his help when he looks . . . like that? A badass, to be honest. “I figured there must’ve been a pretty good reason for you to visit me at 9 AM on the weekend,” Jackson shoots him a smile. “Alright, come on in.”
_________________________
Ken didn’t expect a recently-woken-up Jackson to look so cute, but here he is, probably blushing like an idiot. Why does his friend have to be so— so pretty? Ugh. With the bedhead and everything. This really isn’t helping their dilemma.
Ken follows Jackson to his room, noiselessly shutting the door behind them.
“What exactly did you need advice on?” Jackson queries, sitting cross-legged on his bed.
Ken sits by him and starts rambling.
“You have a girlfriend, so you’re an expert on relationships, right?“
“Well—“ Jackson tries.
“Yeah, so I need your, like, advice on what I should do next. ‘Cause I’m in a really big problem, I have crushes on, uh, two of my guy friends, you’re cool with that, right?”
“Right—“
“One of them is taken, so that’s an absolute no. But I’m getting these vibes from El— the other one, like maybe he likes me back? Also he’s single as far as I know, and I’ve just been thinking, ‘should I shoot my shot or play it safe but pine in suffering silence?’ And—“
“Ken.” Jackson interrupts. Ken stops. “Tell me the name of these crushes and I’ll help.”
They’re reluctant. “Guess first.”
Jackson just rolls his eyes. “Not Tim, probably not Ron . . . You said one of them is single so Exer or David could be candidates for the not single one,”
“Smarty pants,” Ken muses. “Not them, though,”
“Please don’t tell me one of them is Norman.”
Ken has to admit Norman is an interesting and even amusing person, but that guy couldn’t hold a candle to Jackson or Elijah. Yeah, you read that right. And one of them isn’t even single. Even worse, the chances of either of them being attracted to boys is . . . slim, to say the least. Although he suspects Elijah might. Maybe, possibly, hopefully.
“Nah,” they answer. “Guess again.”
“I think that leaves . . . Elijah.”
“Yeppp.” Ken strains, red and a little embarrassed.
“Haha, funny story, actually, Eli is sort of my . . . ex.” Jackson admits awkwardly, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. We dated in freshman year,” Jackson’s gaze falls down, he fiddles with his thumbs.
They’re both silent for a minute, before Jackson says something unexpected.
“You do know Pam and I broke up, right?”
“WHAT?” Ken intelligently exclaims. “Since when?”
“A few weeks ago. It was mutual, don’t worry. We just wanted different things, I guess.” He shrugs.
He speaks at the same time that Ken blurts something really stupid.
“Do you want some alfajores?” “So both of my crushes are singl—”
“What?” They ask at the same time.
“You go first.” Ken offers, while berating himself for being stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I was asking if you want alfajores.” Jackson says. “You seemed to like them a lot last time we had them, haha,”
“YES. Please, I could really use some alfajores right now,”
Jackson laughs at that. “Alright. Be right back,”
He leaves the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway.
___________________
Jackson feels like imploding.
He’s in the kitchen, his scarred hands placed on the counter while he has a hundred yard stare straight into a plate of alfajores. The plate that he’s supposed to bring upstairs to Ken, sitting on his bed.
A sigh escapes him and the only thing he can think clearly is, ‘what the fuck?’ repeated over and over, because his crush/best friend just admitted to having a crush on his ex/crush/best friend.
And one other person, he reminds himself. He stands up and picks up the plate.
Not Tim, Ron, Exer, David, Norman, definitely not Ricky or Marty . . .
Elijah was the single crush, Ken said the other was in a relationship, . . . Ken also thought that Jackson was still dating Pamela . . .
He’s taking the plate upstairs when it hits him.
Oh.
Shit.
It’s him, he’s the other crush.
He may be oblivious (read: He is very oblivious), but he’s not a complete idiot. That title is reserved for both Ken and Elijah.
Then NJ appears in front of him at the top of the stairwell. Before Jackson can even scream, NJ’s hand swiftly covers his mouth and he goes, “Shh!”
Jackson’s eye twitches in frustration—he may or may not have forgotten about his evil twin currently invading his home—, then he nods. The hand falls.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” NJ asks. But Jackson wasn’t having this anymore. He was a man on a mission.
“Securing myself a boyfriend.” he whispers back in retort.
“Uh, no, you’re not.” NJ just as well as demands it.
“Uh, yes, I am.” Jackson mocks.
And with that, Jackson enters his room, pushing past NJ.
_________________________
Ken is breathing way too hard.
He is sitting on Jackson’s bed still, not having moved an inch since Jackson went to retrieve the alfajores. They also can’t tell if Jackson has been gone for 10 seconds or 10 minutes because time seems to be slurred at the moment.
All he can think is, “I’m so fucking stupid.” circling around in his head because he just admitted to having a crush on his crush/best friend’s ex-boyfriend to previously said crush. Fucking spectacular. At least he didn’t tell Tim or Jo. Tim would’ve told Ronald, who would’ve told Brenda, who would’ve told David, who would’ve— you get the idea, it would’ve been bad.
Jo probably would’ve laughed in their face. Or maybe hit him with a rolled-up newspaper to “knock some sense” into him.
Which is exactly why they came to Jackson instead, but look how well that’s going.
Then Jackson enters the room holding a plate of his tía Carol’s famous alfajores with a smile on his face, and maybe this visit, Ken thinks, was worth it. His breathing slows down to a calm pace.
_______________________
Elijah is lying on his bed, dressed in day clothes. He stares up at the bare ceiling of his new apartment, wondering about how he could decorate the rest of his equally bare room. He used to be excited to decorate, to do stuff like that. But after a while it gets boring and seems more like a chore. This move was different, though. The people are different (he’s totally not thinking about Ken), yet he has a sense of home that he has scarcely felt before (definitely not thinking about Jackson).
He sits up. He could go pay a visit to them. One of them. Ken lived just a floor down.
A vague thought of isn’t it weird to hang out with your ex (that you still may or may not like)‘s best friend (that you also may or may not like)?, but he brushes it off. This is fine.
Elijah slides off his bed, shouts, “<I’m going out>, I’ll be back soon!” to his parents, shoves his shoes on, and is out the door in less than two minutes. Not at all eager to hang with Ken, what are you even talking about?
He arrives at Ken’s front door. He brushes off imaginary dirt from his shirt. Elijah knocks one, two, three, and Haru—Ken’s older brother—opens the door.
Haru doesn’t even blink. “If you’re looking for Ken, you’re outta luck. He went to his friend’s house.” Haru starts closing the door, but Elijah’s foot blocks the way.
“Which friend?”
“How should I know?” Haru shrugs. Elijah moves his foot out of the way, disappointed. Haru looks at him. He gives in. “He’s probably at—what’s his name? Jacob?— Jacob’s place. They’re always hanging out together,”
Wow, people are still messing up his name, huh?
Elijah perks up at this. “Great, thank you!” He is already turned around and walking away when Haru closes the door.
Elijah always thought that someone’s eyes were the gateway to their soul. Ok, well, maybe not always believed, but he likes the idea of it. His own eyes were brown. Not hazel, not flecked with another color, just brown.
Jackson’s—oh don’t even get Elijah started on Jackson’s eyes—As far as Elijah could tell, Jackson’s eyes were gray. Sometimes dark gray, sometimes light. Sometimes so dark they were almost black. Sometimes so light they were almost white. Elijah could get lost in his eyes forever and never get tired of it.
Ken’s were brown too, but such a deep, rich brown they looked almost black. His eyes mirrored everything around him, mimicking his environment. It was ironic, because Ken himself never did that, always sticking out. Right now they were reflecting miniature Elijahs, one in each, as Ken held the door open for him to enter.
______________________________
When Jackson had a second knock on his door that morning, he didn't think Elijah—his flipping ex-boyfriend (that he still liked because of course he would)—would be on the other side of the front door.
Ken descends first, quite springy for a Saturday morning. But that was Ken for you, the opposite of a normal human being. Jackson follows, his hand dragging along the rail. He watches as Ken greets Elijah with a smile, as Elijah let out an easy laugh at some joke Ken cracked. Jackson smiled too, despite himself. Just happy to see them happy. Even if there was a bit of jealousy for both sides.
What a weird situation he has fallen into . . .
Jackson didn’t seem mad when Ken practically said he wanted to get with his ex. So when Ken opens the door to greet a certain dirty blond boy, they only hesitate for a second before lifting up Elijah’s hand and planting a kiss there. It’s not that weird, right? He does that to greet lots of people! The look on Elijah’s face is calm as usual, but with a hint of blush that makes Ken think he made the right decision. Jeez, he really needed to stop overthinking things because it seems like this could work out in his favor.
Ken throws an arm around Elijah—-because Ken isn’t normal, yet he can act somewhat like a functional human in front of his crushes—-and everything seems fine for a second, perfect even, until Jackson asks Ken to get the alfajores from upstairs.
It would be considered an ordinary request, but the way Jackson said it meant he wanted to talk to Elijah. Privately.
Ken does as he’s told and heads to the stairs. He isn’t worried that Jackson will spill, so it’s probably some other thing. They’ve been friends/lovers for years after all. Oh man, why why why did he have a crush on both of them? His grip on the handrail tightens.
Stupidstupidstupidstupid—
He smells the alfajores which interrupts his thoughts. He climbs the rest of the stairs and snatches the plate. What can he say? Food fixes everything.
_________________________
Elijah’s heart aches.
It’s almost a physical thing, a weight in his chest. Even worse when he is so near the people that he aches for, yet somehow they make it better—easier to handle, too.
Why are feelings so complicated? No scratch that, he knows exactly what he’s feeling. He knows exactly what Jackson’s loose hair and kind smile and Ken’s chain necklaces and mischievous grin make him feel. It’s just the situation that’s complicated. So when Jackson looks at him with tired, hopeful eyes, he can’t stop himself from blurting out—
“So. I think I like both of you.”
The effect this has on Jackson is instantaneous. Cheeks red, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows raised. But still clearly confused.
“What?” Jackson breathes out.
“No, don’t be confused, you’re not allowed to be confused yet. Just tell me, do you like Ken?” There’s a slight beat of silence before he elaborates. “And I don’t mean as a friend. Do you like like Ken?”
Jackson gives in. “Yeah, I do, but he—“
“Do you guys know what whispering is?” Ken interrupts, plate of alfajores in hand.
Jackson and Elijah jump a foot back together.
“Because I heard you from the second floor. Now don’t get me wrong, I like what I heard,” he smirks, “but you might wanna learn how to whisper in the future.”
“I can’t even deny it, you got a point.” Elijah grins.
“The important part is,” the latino states, “that I was right all along.” When he sees their confused — albeit a bit flustered — faces, he explains. “Ken, upstairs you said you had two crushes. You said the first one was Eli. I figured out pretty quickly that the other was me. And Eli,—”
“I know, I know.” Elijah acknowledges. “I have amazing taste in men.”
“That’s not what I was gonna say!” Jackson says with a laugh.
Ken gasps in mock offense, “How dare you? I like to believe I also have great taste in men–”
Jackson covers Ken’s mouth with his hands, “Shut up,” he groans, but he’s blushing furiously.
Ken’s voice is muffled beneath his hands, “Make me,”
Elijah stifles a snort because he can already see where this is going.
To everyone’s surprise Jackson says, “Bet.” Then he smoothly removes his hand which is replaced by his lips.
When they kiss, Jackson feels so electric, he finally understands why Exer has little flowers dancing around whenever he’s near David.
As Jackson parts, the only thing Ken responds with is, “Oh shit,” and a red face.
“Well, that was smooth,” says Elijah. “but not as smooth as this,” He swiftly spins Jackson around so the shorter is hanging on his arm then Elijah plants a kiss on his lips too. It’s just as good as they remember it, all that and better.
Ken’s jaw drops. “That’s not fair,” they grumble, “You guys have probably kissed plenty of times and I get a mere single peck?” There’s no real malice behind his words which makes the other two chuckle fondly.
“Wasn’t my kiss enough to shut you up?” chuckles Jackson, still in his boyfriend’s arms.
“No, I might just require a couple more. Factually.” Ken grins.
He scoffs lightheartedly, “Rude.”
“I think I could supply a ‘couple more’,” Elijah offers.
“You guys are so corny,” Jackson points out.
Elijah mocks a pouty face, tilting his head to him. “Well, that’s not very nice,”
“Wait, don—”
He drops Jackson just as smoothly as he had twirled him. Jackson lands with a thud.
“CARAJO—!”
Elijah ignores him, “So, Ken, was what that you were saying about a kiss?”
Ken isn’t sure what he says but it’s probably something intelligent like “Uh,” before Elijah softly kisses him on the lips.
He tastes like cherry, Ken thinks.
Elijah parts first, their lips slowly leaving each other, but Ken can’t help it. He leans in again, deeper this time. Elijah makes a noise of surprise, cute and sweet.
As Jackson lifts himself from the floor, rubbing his back, he hears a familiar set of knocks on the front door.
“Uh . . . guys?”
Elijah looks up at him with Ken still in his arms, looking dazed. “Yeah?”
The silhouette in the door’s window pane grows into a familiar shape, tall and stocky. “Ron’s back.” Jackson answers, a hint of panic in his voice to go with the hint of cherry on his lips.
The other two responded at the same time.
“Shit.”