Title: Cold Hands...Yours, Too.

Author: Joy

Pairing: B/J

Rating: PG-13, for language

Disclaimer: Not mine. No profit.

Notes: After "Falling Apart". Yes, the title is from "RENT". Sorry, there is some angst in here. Will make up for it later. Wow, was today ever a good day for B/J. grins

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Jeff shivered on the porch while he waited for the Pikes' car to rumble into his driveway. Rather than sit in a warm living room with Richard and the inevitable lecture on curfew and safety, he had opted to huddle against a chill Connecticut wind and squint through nearly frozen, watery eyes for the sight of his friends cruising up the road.

The weather had been freakish lately, even the triplets had given him that. It was nearly May, and still the news gave reports of impending snow, which turned out true more often than false. This in itself nearly had made Jeff demand to go back to Palo City.

Partially the weather, he sighed, and largely this buzzing feeling in my head that won't let up. If I can think of anything at all, it's Haley's bed. Haley's bed and Byron's soft hair brushing against my cheek, and the faint smell of sweat between the two of us. Jeff bit his lip, a shiver coursing through him from a deeper place than skin.

The blast of the horn startled him, and he straightened up, lifting a glove-encased hand to wave. Richard stuck his head out of the door, handing him a scarf and reminding him one last time of curfew. Jeff rolled his eyes as he scrambled down the porch steps and towards the car.

Jordan shoved the door open with some difficulty, having to first kick it and then put body weight against it before the door slipped free of the frame. Jeff patiently waited, then nearly threw himself into the backseat. To close the door, he had to pull up on the handle while Byron got out of the passenger's side and shove at it again.

"We have got to convince Dad to fix that door," Adam muttered as he cranked the heat up.

"Why won't he?" Jeff asked. He was vaguely aware that the damage had occured during the summer he was gone, but nobody had voiced the details.

Jordan groaned. "Dad said he wasn't fixing anything on this bucket of bolts as long as it still drove. Said it would teach us to be more careful."

"Oh."

The engine whined as the car accelerated. Byron, being in the front, was given rights to the portable cd player plugged into the tape deck. He fiddled with it until it finally started to blare music through the car's tinny speakers. The opening chords to a Metallica song started up, and instantly Adam and Jordan began flinging their heads around to the beat, even if Adam's hands were wrapped around the steering wheel.

Jeff hunched in his seat, fully aware that if Adam sent them soaring across the road into a tree, that he was surely going to be in a lot of trouble. Like it was his fault that Adam was more obsessed with the idea of driving than actually doing it. Luckily, the cd player cut out suddenly, and Byron was set upon to fix it, amongst loud protests.

It was discovered that turning up the volume too loud overloaded the player, so after that, the music stayed much quieter. Jeff caught Byron's eye and smiled. It appeared that Byron preferred the music at low volume, as well.

They ran into trouble again at the movie theatre. Adam and Jordan bought their tickets and consequently sold out the show. They looked worriedly at the other two boys.

"Ummm... we can see something else; it's okay," Jeff assured them. Byron nodded silently in agreement. Adam and Jordan shrugged.

"See you out front in two hours, then. You should go see that other movie. It looked pretty decent on the previews."

"Okay," Byron said, waving goodbye to his brothers. He waited until they had vanished into the theatre, then he tugged on Jeff's sleeve.

"You don't really want to see a movie, do you?" Jeff guessed, and was rewarded by a lop-sided smile.

"Well, what then?"

Byron shrugged, his thin frame shaking in the wind. "We could... walk around the mall, you know?"

"For two hours?"

"There's a restaurant across the street."

They rushed over to the Waffle House and wolfed down greasy food in an attempt to fill themselves with warmth, but it only lasted until they walked outside, and then the cold tried to sneak in anywhere that wasn't wrapped in four layers of clothing.

"Ok, now what?" chattered Jeff, who really, more than anything, wanted to be someplace warm.

Byron looked like he was about to cry, and started marching into the mall. Jeff followed him into the food court, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him down into a chair.

"Byron, what is your problem?" Those might not have been the best words to say.

Immediately, Byron's face dropped into his palms and a soft whimpering sound crept through his gloves. Jeff was paralyzed as he watched his best friend break down in front of him. Finally, Byron started babbling, not all of it coherant.

"Don't know! You've been...not at all...and you made the first move...thought...were high, but that's okay, I can...won't even talk to me...'m sorry, Jeff. But what do you want?"

Jeff was really going to fuck himself over with this. "Byron, I can't understand you." He pulled the mittens away, offering the scarf Richard had given him as a tissue. Being strongly aware of sitting in a very public place, he scooted a little closer to Byron.. Maybe if nobody could tell who it was sobbing in front of him, the two of them could avoid notice.

Byron wiped his tears away. "Sorry. Just... fuck. Sorry." He tried to stand, but Jeff's firm arm around his back kept him in place.

"Talk to me, okay? This is about that party at Haley's, isn't it?" Jeff's heart sunk. He himself had thought of nothing else, and it was clear that it had been eating away at Byron, too. As much as they avoided the subject, it was the only thing they wanted to discuss, but they had kept it bottled up.

Byron nodded miserably, the tears welling up again. "Did you mean it?"

"Yes, I meant it!" Jeff hissed, a little forcefully. He cringed as he watched Byron shrink back. "I mean... God, Byron, this is hard."

"Jeff... you said you'd 'never'. 'Never' what?"

The answer was choked and Jeff could hardly meet Byron's eyes. "Never thought this would happen. Like, girls, they're hot but..." He swallowed nervously. "I don't think I want to be with them like... like with you."

Byron's mouth was a small "O" as he slid a little closer to Jeff, winding his mitten-thick fingers around Jeff's wrist. Jeff slid his gloves off to hold Byron's hand, slowly pulling the mitten off. Their fingers locked together, as perfectly as the time before.

"Your hands are cold," Jeff gasped.

"Yours, too," smiled Byron wryly.

But they didn't let go until the bustle of the crowd started pouring into the lobby, and even as his brothers walked up, Byron gave Jeff's hand a small squeeze before shoving his mittens back on.