Not that Bart would ever admit it, but he'd kind of been waiting—rather impatiently—for Jaime to get there. Yeah, maybe he was a little excited to see his boyfriend, so what?
The doorbell rang and he zipped out of the living room, calling, "I'll get it!" before tugging the door open. Jaime was wearing a hoodie that was, judging by the fact that his nose and cheeks were tinted red and the shivers wracking his body, a bit too thin for the freezing weather.
"Bart! No running in the house!" Joan chastised, poking her head out of the living room to give Bart a stern look that melted the second she saw Jaime. "Jaime! It's so nice to see you. Bart, let the boy inside before he freezes."
Bart grinned bashfully when he realized he was blocking the door and moved so Jaime could step inside. Before he could change his mind, he darted forward to press his lips to Jaime's cold cheek before quickly stepping back and taking Jaime's hands in how own to warm them up.
"Gracias," Jaime said, smiling lopsidedly at Bart before turning to Joan. "It's nice to see you, too, Mrs. Garrick."
"Joan," she corrected, wagging a finger at him. "Do you boys want some hot cocoa? I'll go put the kettle on the stove." Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared through the kitchen door.
Bart snickered and pulled Jaime into the living room, where Jay was watching hockey, until Joan called them into the kitchen.
"So why aren't you out doing, y'know, snow things?" Jaime asked, taking a sip of the hot chocolate and peering across the table at Bart.
Snow things? "Gotta be more specific than that, dude," Bart said with a confused frown.
Jaime's eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped into a little 'o'. "Dios mios, Bart, have you never made a snow angel? Had a snowball fight?"
Bart fidgeted uncomfortably. "Uh, no. I haven't." Not much time for fun where I'm from.
They were out the door two minutes later, Jaime wearing Jay's old winter coat. The snow was actually prettier than Bart had expected, glistening and white and untouched until Jaime ran out into the yard. "C'mere!" he said, crouching down before flopping down in the snow. "You just move your arms and legs like this and then, when you get up, it looks like an angel." He pushed to his feet quickly and grinned at his handiwork.
It was funny, how enthusiastic Jaime was about making snow angels. Actually, it was kind of cute, when Bart thought about it. Jaime's nose was red again and his eyelashes were catching the snowflakes as they fell and it suddenly struck Bart that Jaime was the single most amazing person he knew.
"I love you." Bart almost clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes dropping to the ground, his cheeks burning red. That wasn't supposed to come out. This would ruin everything, he was sure, this amazing thing they had built—it would all come crashing down and it would be Bart's fault, God, it was always his fault.
He almost ran because that's all he's good at—that's the only thing he hasn't screwed up yet. Then, he felt Jaime's hand tugging his chin up.
"Bart, look at me," he heard Jaime murmur, his voice gentle and such a stark contrast with the Look at me, you worthless sack of meat that he was used to.
When Bart finally did look up, gold eyes meeting brown, apologies started to spill out of his mouth. "I'msosorryI'msuchanidiotIdon'tkno—mmph." Jaime's lips pressed against his own, soft and reassuring.
"I love you, too," he mumbled against Bart's lips.
At that, Bart's eyes shot wide open and he stretched into a grin. "Really?" Not giving Jaime the time to answer, he launched himself at his boyfriend, the momentum toppling them both into the snow.
Jaime snickered and brushed a clump of snow out of Bart's hair. "Really."
The next hour was spent on snowball fights and snowmen and kissing—lots of kissing—and by the time they got inside, even Bart couldn't feel his toes, but it was worth it.