61 (End)

The party is already in full swing by the time they get there; music blaring from speakers and lights turned low to provide a suitable atmosphere. It's loud, smells vaguely like sweat, and there's no end of people approaching Jason.

They stay for two hours.

During this time, Clyde does no less then five cartwheels through the manor's yard, cheered on by teammates and strangers both. He also cheerfully tries to drag no less than fourteen people into doing cartwheels with him, of which three agrees and two ends up literally running away from him. "Come on, Jay," Clyde stares soulfully at Jason at one point, tugging on Jason's shirt like a little kid, jutting out his bottom lip and blinking with wide eyes.

Jason, resolutely, says, "No."

Clyde's pout magnifies, and Winston hides his laughter in a cough, sipping at his cold, sparkling soda and whistling innocently when Clyde glances at him, suspicious. Then he pouts more at Jason, and Jason, in turn, once more resolutely says, "No."

"Aww, but Jay," Clyde complains, pulling Jason's clothes again. He points at the yard like Jason simply can't see it and that's the problem here. "The grass is no nice, I promise it won't hurt even if you fall."

"The entire yard is covered in snow," Jason very reasonably points out.

Clyde blinks, looking back at the yard with furrowed eyebrows. "Huh," he finally says, rubbing one of his eyes. Then he grins, and cheerfully declares, "You know, snow is even softer to land on than grass!"

"That it is," Jason mellow-y agrees.

Clyde narrow his eyes, apparently sensing that something's wrong. But he doesn't pursue it; he spots something behind them and shoots off without saying another word. This is quickly accompanied by a loud crashing sound and several people laughing. Winston tries to peek through the windows, but there are so many people in the house it's hard to see anything at all.

They leave not far after that. Every friend that's at the party that Jason wants to talk to has been spoken to, and Jason is starting to flag, his eyebrows furrowing and jaw tensing in a rather distinctive way. The last thing Winston wants for Jason today is for him to get a headache; it's been a long but rewarding day, and Winston doesn't want Jason to be in pain.

Not any day, but especially not today.

Putting his empty glass on the nearest surface—a wooden cabinet, the entire house has a very log cabin vibe going for it—Winston and Jason quickly hits up the bathrooms before they leave, wrestling their way through the crowds to their destination.

Winston ends up waiting for Jason by the entrance for a few minutes, quickly sending Gary a few texts. Gary has already ditched the party, leaving within the first fifteen minutes of arrival due to

Spotting Jason heading his way, Winston straightens and puts his phone in his pocket, adjusting his jacket and ensuring his mittens are ready to be pulled on as soon as they step out the door. People clap Jason's back and shoulders as he walks between them, congratulating him and offering cheers. Jason's smile brightens with every cheerful, genuine well-wish, but his jaw also tightens some times and his fists clench and unclench.

The door shuts behind them with a quiet thud, and Winston drags in the cold winter air. It's nearly New Years, almost time for winter break, and the night is cold as ice. His exhale is a smoky thing, air twisting and turning on the wind as it slowly dissipates. The porch light flickers somewhat, Jason height in reaching it easily, and it casts half his face in shadow.

They linger by the door, Jason quickly swallowing a pain killer. His throat is bared as he tilts his head back, throat moving as he swallows. Once he's done, he smacks lips and cranks his neck with on hand on it, and Winston takes a step closer.

Holds out his hand.

Jason smiles down ta him, grabbing his hand and leading the way down the porch, the short stairs, and the path down to the side-walk. "Better?" Winston asks after a few minutes, voice low, looking at Jason.

They cast long shadows, the night dark and the streetlights a mellow orange glow. Every time they pass under one, Winston takes opportunity to look at Jason, examining his expression and fawning over his good looks. Because Winston is weak, and the glow surrounding Jason is magnetic,c and Winston can do nothing more but stare, trying futilely to cement this image in his mind.

It's cold, it's dark, the streetlights the only guiding force in the cloud-covered night. "A little," says Jason, scraggly from all the conversations he's had today.

Winston squeezes his hand. They're moving slow, the slowest people out and about, and they move seamlessly out of the ways of passersby.

Under every streetlight, snow glitters.

It's breathtaking. The snows under their feet is a heavy layer, and they sink in somewhat with every step. The bypassing cars driving slowly on the ice-ridden roads reveal gems, the car-lights cutting right through the night and laying bare its treasures. Winston's heart is beating a slow, steady rhythm in his chest, and he inhales in gentle flexations of his lungs.

Jason's hand is warm. Their shoulders make contact every other step, their entangled hands barely swinging. Winston's eyes move between the street, to Jason, and back again, every rise and fall of his chest an unconquerable action, a beast from the years of yore.

He breathes, and Jason peeks at him, and Winston's stomach swoops.

Jason does look more relaxed now, Winston thinks. He smiles when they make eye-contact, and Jason ducks his head, his cheeks red and the tip of his nose heading the same way. Winston laughs, biting his lip when Jason looks at him again, eyes just a bit accusing. And it's a helpless sort of joy that courses through his veins, the kind of happiness that is entirely beyond his control.

Winston wouldn't trade this for the world.

"You were breathtaking today, you know that, right?" Winston says, staring at Jason.

Jason's blush spreads his, his feet scuffing in the snow. "Yeah, I've been told," his smile is beautiful, eyes glittering in the streetlight, shadow stretching and entwining with Winston's before them. He looks shy, his head still slightly ducked, and Winston can't help himself.

He reaches up, one of his hand landing on Jason's cheek. Jason presses into, the streetlight just behind him, and it lights him up like a dream. His edges burn orange like the light, and Winston's heart stopped long ago.

He is weak, and he can not look away.

"You did really, really good today," whispers Winston, eyes flickering from Jason's eyes to his lips and back again. Jason licks his lips, like he can tell what Winston wants, what he aches for, and Winston bites his own. He lets it go soon enough, smooths his thumb over Jason's cheek and smiles instead. "I don't know anyway, and even I can tell you were incredible. You deserve all the praise and more."

Jason's lips twitch. His eyelashes lower, his voice raspy on a "Thanks" that his blush only magnifies.

Winston breathes, tries to keep it steady and fails utterly, and he can not look away. He is weak, and he can not resist, can not let go even as Jason looks up again, makes utterly searing eye-contact and says, "I—after the game I—I just really love you, Win."

Winston's eyes burn. His thumb caresses Jason's face again, Jason pressing even deeper into it, and Winston leans forward. Their foreheads touch gently, softly, without fanfare, and he switches his grip to embrace Jason's neck, merely holding on.

Jason's voice is raspy, low, as he murmurs "I just really love you," into the air between them.

"I love you, too," breathes Winston, weak in the knees and only standing due to his grip on Jason. Halo'd by the light, warm under his hand, breath shaky between them, Jason is a vision from the gods, and oh, how Winston is weak.

And under the streetlight, they kiss.

THE END