When they went down, the pancakes were cold.
But Alex didn't care, pouring a generous amount of maple syrup over one before stuffing it in his mouth, suddenly realising how hungry he was. Miles wandered over to the record player that he had insisted on placing in the living room, and rifled through the album sleeves in the box next to it.
"What do you want to hear?" he asked, looking over at Alex, who swallowed down his second pancake before smiling sheepishly and shrugging.
"Can't you play something?" he asked, very conscious of his red cheeks.
Miles just laughed at him, moving back to the table.
"I know what you're getting at," he smirked, combing Alex' messy hair with his fingers, getting stuck a few times in the knots.
"You want to distract me so you can eat all the pancakes, don't you?"
Alex snorted. "Noooooooo," he said with a mocking innocence. "No, how dare you think that? I just love to hear you sing... while I eat," he added giggling as he tried to steal another pancake from the rapidly decreasing pile. But Miles swatted his hand away and grabbed himself a pancake, quickly pouring the syrup on it and stuffing it in his mouth before Alex could steal it, almost choking on it when he couldn't contain his giggles at the sight of Alex' pout. Licking the syrup off his lips, Miles leaned over and pressed a sugary kiss on Alex' mouth.
"You'll get a kiss for every pancake you let me eat," Miles joked.
Before he knew it, he had the whole pile on his plate.
***
They had been practicing for Music when Alex' phone rang.
The shrill sound echoed through the house, interrupting the strum on their guitars and the words rolling of their tongues. With one glance at each other, the content atmosphere dissipated, making room for an almost touchable tension.
Alex swallowed, and locked eyes with Miles for what felt like an hour, an hour of silent apologies and pleas, stubborn insistence and guilty defeat.
He fumbled in his coat pocket, grabbing the phone and answering the call with a pained expression.
"Hey Alex, do you know when you'll be coming home? I thought we might catch a movie this afternoon," Alaina said.
Alex averted his eyes from Miles' piercing gaze, and saw Miles' hopeful expression turn into a grim scowl.
"I- I don't know yet," he stammered into the phone. "Three o'clock? Is that possible?"
He was defiantly looking at the other end of the room right now, where he couldn't see Miles' hurt face. But the truth was, he simply couldn't break up with Alaina over the phone. They had been dating for almost half a year, and she deserved a proper break-up, face-to-face and at a time where she would be able to deal with it best. Maybe after the film today.
Alaina sounded excited and so perfectly oblivious as she confirmed the 'date', that it almost broke Alex' heart. It had been a long time since he'd actually been in love with her- he even doubted if he'd ever been- but she had become a constant in his life, someone he could always go to if things went wrong. Of course, so was Miles. But with Miles, everything was so fresh and young, and Alex felt like he wouldn't be able to just spill his heart, out of fear that some of his thoughts might repulse Miles, and make him hate him.
And even though he was certain that would pass, he still felt reluctant to let go of Alaina. She was a friend too- a strange kind of friend, a friend who had never been anything but a lover too- but a friend nevertheless. And though he was more than willing to sacrifice that friendship for Miles' love, it still hurt. A little. It hurt because he knew it'd hurt her, and he felt guilty about leading her on for so long. He had been in love with Miles for ages, but he'd been too unsure of himself, and of Miles, to take that as a reason to break up with her.
Or maybe it was all just laziness. He lived with her, in every sense of the word, and breaking up would have been be such a hassle.
Anyway, he had let it go on for too long, and now it was going to be very hard to end it.
Very hard, but totally worth it.
***
Miles listened to the one-sided call with a growing desparation. It was obvious Alex wasn't going to break up with her. They were going on a date, for Christ sake!
How can he go out with her after everything that happened, yesterday, this morning? How can he forget me so soon?
He felt a dark knot, hard as a rock, forming in his stomach as the despair turned to annoyance turned to broken-hearted fury.
A fury he could barely contain when Alex ended the call and turned back to face him (the coward actually turned his back to me) looking tired and lost in his thoughts.
With a brisk movement, Miles stood up, earning an angry "ploink" from the guitar he'd lifted up from his lap and put down less carefully than ususal.
"Miles..." Alex started, his voice somewhere between pleading and tired acceptance, which made Miles even angrier.
"You can go now, Alex," he brought out stiffly, trying not to scream. Or cry. Or both.
"Come on, Mi, don't be like that. I can't just break up with her over the phone! We've been dating for-"
"Believe me, Alex, I know how long you've been dating. Now, can you please leave? I need to be alone a little." So I can let it out without scaring you away.
"Okay, I see. Fine!" Alex fumed, stomping to the hall to collect his coat and shoes. "If you're gonna act like this, I'll be glad to leave. But don't expect me to come back anytime soon!"
"I'm not the one who's going on dates with a girl!" Miles contorted as Alex came back into the living room, remembering that he hadn't dropped his shoes in the hallway when he'd come here yesterday. Refusing to look at Miles, he stomped up the stairs. "She's still my girlfriend, you know?" he shouted down when he'd reached the top.
Miles winced, and he was on the verge of tears - angry, frustrated tears- when he shouted back.
"If you're so concerned about her, maybe you shouldn't go around kissing other people behind her back!"
Alex didn't respond. With an angry grunt, Miles grabbed his guitar, strumming the strings so aggressively he feared they might break.
"Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me," he started singing loudly, and way too pointedly for the song's emotional tune.
"No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm."
When he looked up, Alex was standing at the base of the stairs.
"You're such a dramatic idiot, do you know that?" he stated, but there wasn't any real anger left.
Miles tried to cling onto his own rage, wanting to stay mad, to never forgive him. It was so much easier to just hate him, and not to worry about hurting him or being too emotional. It was so much easier not to care at all, than to care this much about another person. A perfect but flawed person, who would hurt him again and again, even if he didn't mean to.
But when he looked up at Alex from under his eyelashes, and he saw the faint glimmer in his eye, and the subtle twitch of his mouth, Miles couldn't help himself. He knew he was behaving ridiculously. And he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere.
His fingers kept on playing, more gently though, but he could feel the corners of his mouth go up as he averted his eyes from Alex. After a few more notes of his dramatic display, he looked up again, to see that Alex was trying his very best not to laugh. They made eye contact, and Miles let out a soft chuckle.
Alex shook his head, smirking unbelievingly.
Miles stopped playing, letting the bubbles of relief that rose up from his chest come out as silly giggles.
Their laughter filled the room, and Miles could feel his eyes turn watery - from relief, mostly, but there was still a little jealousy left, though he would never tell Alex that.
"I'm sorry for being such a dick," he said, wiping his eyes.
"You really are," Alex walking over to where he was sitting, and bending down to hug him, awkwardly, the guitar still between them.
"But you're my dick, so it's okay."
Both of them snorted, and for some reason, Miles couldn't stop laughing, sending Alex into a fit of laughter of his own.
"Tha- that c-c- came out wro-o-hong," Alex brought out panting, clutching his stomach, slumped down over Miles as the laughter had made his legs weak.
Miles himself was gasping for air, the tears freely running over his cheeks.
They clinged onto each other while their laughter subsided, until both of them were left grinning and trying to catch their breath.
Alex let go of Miles, and laid on his back on the floor, arms spread wide and chest heaving.
Miles carefully laid down his guitar, and went to lay down next to him. They laid like that, staring at the ceiling, until their panting had stopped, and after that. Miles' hand found Alex's and their fingers entwined, without a word.
After what could have been forever - a good forever, though, a forever where your mind wanders without fretting, where you can relax and be at ease and never get impatient - Alex cleared his throat.
"Your birthday," he said, turning his head to look at Miles.
"I'll break up with her before your birthday. Just give me this week to find a right moment."
Miles turned his head too, so they were facing each other, noses almost touching.
He brought up his hand, and tucked away a few strands of hair that had fallen in Alex' face, before cupping his face, brushing his cheek with his thumb, sending shivers down Alex' spine, making him blush and slowly close his eyes in delight
"It's okay, Al," Miles murmured. "You can take as long as you need. I understand you can't rush this, and I don't want you to. I just want to know that you're mine."
Alex opened his eyes, a sleepy smile coming over his face as he rolled on his side so he could place a tender hand in Miles' neck. Pulling him closer, they kissed, and when they pulled apart to breathe, Alex let out a contented sigh.
"I'm yours," he whispered, uncertainly, as if he was still amazed he could say it out loud. He repeated it, louder, a smile forming on his face as he realised that yes, he could say this out loud, and it sounded good. It sounded better than anything else he'd ever said.
"I'm yours," he said, placing a kiss on Miles' cheek, which was fattened by the endearing smile on his face as he watched Alex relish the words in his mouth- the words he had only dreamed of, directed at him.
"I'm yours. I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours," Alex repeated, covering Miles' face with kisses.
Miles giggled, because god, he never knew he was this deeply in love, and the realisation is both shocking and liberating.
"You're a dork," he mutters, his eyes shining bright, and his smile refusing to leave his face.
Alex kisses his grin, though he is smiling too much himself for it to really be a kiss.
"I don't care, baby. I'm yours."