Avery felt like floating the entire way up to his room, even if when he passed Jack's, music was on and the door slightly open. He felt-like-floated past, but before he was even a foot beyond the doorframe, the music was shut off, and the lighting changed, and Avery's toes touched ground so he could turn to Jack.
Jack was leaning against the simple frame, barely lit. "Why not me?"
Avery turned, tilting his head to the side. What Jack was asking seemed like it would change his night--but Avery didn't understand. "Why not you what, Jack?"
"Why couldn't it have been me?" Jack clarified, his voice still soft and thicker than usual.
Why couldn't what have been him? "Jack--"
"I've been such a fool. Why not me, Avery? Why Jake?'
"Jake?"
"Why do you love him? Why not me?"
Avery didn't love Jake! He didn't! He couldn't. Not after a year of nothing. He was just happy, that was all. That was all that it was, and all that Avery meant to say, but what he asked was, "It was that obvious?"
Jack shook his head. "Only to me. Only to me, because I was looking for it. But it's so obvious now. I mean, fuck Avery, you've loved him all along. He's loved you back. And why not me? I was here too."
Avery could only watch him. "Jack--you want it to be you?"
Jack got closer to Avery. "It isn't obvious?" he asked, and Avery found himself being kissed. He kissed Avery for a long time, one finger holding Avery's chin steady and his other hand waiting at Avery's hip for permission. "It should have been me," he breathed, looking at Avery from an inch away. "Please. It can be me. Let me show you."
"Stop," Avery lied. He didn't want to have to think about this. He didn't want to bring love into a situation that had already grown larger than his world. It had become his world. They had become his world. "Stop, Jack, I'm not choosing anyone."
"I know," Jack said, shaking his head a little, and kissing Avery again. "You will."
He lifted Avery up then, surprising Avery more than the kisses had. "Why can't it be me?"
Avery was carried back into his room and set on the bed. Jack tried to prove why it should have been him. And after many more kisses, and much more than that, Avery slept curled in his arms. "It's me," Jack whispered, as he slept, holding Avery's sleeping hand the way that Jake had failed to take the real one. "It should be me."
"I love you," Jack added, but Avery was dreaming.