Winston sneaks through the hallways, stopping at every corner and peeking around it with only his eyes visible in a very cartoon-esque way. His eyes glide in every possible direction before he straightens up and turns the corner, Gary stomping right by him without any regards for Winston's fate. "Slow down," hisses Winston as he discreetly speeds up to keep pace.

"I am the very epitome of sneaky," Gary grandly declares, a bypassing student outright laughing at him. Gary flips them off to their back.

"My fate is on the line over here," Winston groans, messing up his hair as he drags his hand through it again. It's already an utter mess and can't get much worse, so he doesn't spend a lot of time worrying about. Still. He must look like he has a permanent bedhead by now.

They're approaching another corner and Winston's heart trips in his chest because he knows precisely what's around there. He's spent a truly pathetic amount of time hiding around there and surreptitiously staring at Jason. Like a creep, he thinks. He's probably creepy, and annoying and now that Jason knows he exists he's probably gonna get spotted in a second.

"You don't need to worry dude, I'm right here with you." Gary pumps his fist and pulls the shirt back to reveal his middling muscles. He beams, "I'll protect you!"

"You're gonna get torn to shreds."

Gary hangs his head. "Dude, dude, you're supposed to take the win and just hide behind me. I might get bulldozed but while I'm destroyed like a villain in a video game you can run away."

They stopped walking at some point, and Winston nods. "Thank you," he says, because it's important to acknowledge other's actions for you. Even if they're hypothetical. He thinks. He's not really sure; he's never really had a friend before. Not since—no, he's not thinking about that.

Gary pats his shoulder. "Come on, let's go before we're late."

"Yeah," says Winston, smiling. He inhales deeply as they walk off, continuing the path right around the corner where, as feared, Jason is right at his locker. Fuck, Winston thinks furiously but manages not to say out loud. For once.

"Don't worry," Gary murmurs, controlling his volume and discreetly nudging their shoulders together. He smiles at Winston when Winston peeks at him. Gary even adds, "Like I said, I'm happy to stand ground while you run away. It's no dice off my back."

"Okay, yeah, I know," Winston murmurs, eyes sliding back to Jason with every breath. He only needs to walk no by without making a fool of himself, with somehow running right into Jaosn again. Which should be easy, as he's got eyes on him and knows exactly where he is.

His heartbeat still picks up speed.

Ducking his head, he looks right ahead as they cross into the same hallway Jason is currently breathing in, talking with two of his friends (Winston is presuming, but he thinks it's right; they pop up together lots on their socials and Jason is hanging out with them pretty often, especially in the halls). Winston can't help glancing over his shoulder though, can't help paying him attention and he thinks again of how many times he's run away from him.

They don't know each other, not really, because they've never had a proper conversation and how much can you learn about a person without unethical and unhealthy stalking, really? He knows Jason is gentle, and kind, and selfless. Has even figured out what his favorite food is. But he doesn't know Jason's favorite movies, what he does outside the campus, his fears and dislikes, if he loves his family. If they love him.

They don't know each other, not really, but Winston can't stand the idea that Jason might think he's afraid of him. That Winston might think Jason is a bad person. Because he's not—he's so good that sometimes just looking at him hurts.

Winston doesn't want Jason to doubt himself, and he never wants to be the cause of it.

"You doing it?" Gary asks, looking at him searchingly. At some point they'd stopped, standing in the middle of the hallway, annoyed students forced to go around them. Gary's expression is uncharacteristically serious, his eyes looking right at him, and Winston straightens up in response. Flexing his grip on his bag to make sure it's secure, and he nods with an expressionless face.

"Good luck," Gary smiles, then. He adds cheekily, "I'm cheering for you!"

Winston giggles—in a kind of nervous messy way, actually—and then forces his expression under control once more. He glances over his shoulder at Jason, inhales sharply, and nods again. "I'm ready," he says out loud to make it seem more real, and for once it sort of kind of works.

Gary pats him on the shoulder, and Winston spins on his heel and heads right for his crush.

"Jason Hill," he calls out, raising his hand and waving it energetically lest he run out of nerve. At once, Jason turns toward him and pushes off the locker, blinking rapidly while his friends go silent, watching. Winston gets closer, until it's unmistakable where he's going, and he says again, "Jason."

(Has he lost the ability to form intelligent words? He thinks he might have.)

Jason looks at him, eyes wide, and finally clears his throat. "You," he says, and maybe it's supposed to be intimidating, but Winston can't quite tell. Sometimes tone goes over his head. But regardless, Jason looking right at him and directly addressing him, in a situation where Winston wasn't startled half-to-death, only makes his heart beat faster and his hands start sweating as his stomach swoops.

"Me," he agrees for lack of anything else to say, his mind temporarily blanking.

Jason is still looking right at him, one of his buddies slapping him on the shoulder and actually dislodging Jason. Jason stumbles half a step forward and Winston has to tilt his head back to maintain some semblance of eye-contact. "I wanted..." Winston starts but let's the sentence fade. He licks his lips, and is it his imagination or does Jason's gaze follow it?

Jason's expression is smoothing out into that controlled nothingness again, and Winston takes that to mean that he should hurry up. He inhales, holding the breath in his lungs for just a beat too long, then let's out a strong,  "I'm sorry for running into you yesterday! And running away!"

Jason blinks. His head slowly tilts and one of his friends—the bigger one—poorly hides his laughter in his elbow, utterly failing at casually leaning against a locker. The other one is surreptitiously giving Jason a thumbs up but it's within Winston's line of sight so he wonders what that's about.

"That's—" Jason pauses, gazing down at him with deep eyes and Winston thinks once more that they're unbearably pretty. Jason switches what foot he's putting his weight on, and then finishes— "fine."

It feels like his gaze is cutting right through Winston, like it's seeing him to the bone. It's a strange sensation, and he's not sure if he likes it, but it's also Jason doing it and in a way he's pathetically weak for Jason's attention. After a beat of silence, lingering far too long to be polite, Jason repeats, "It's fine." The big one of Jason's friend outright laughs at that. Winston wonders if he should be offended.

It's strange, the way Jason looks at him. Observing Winston's colorful hair, the freckles on the tip of his nose, the paint on his nails. Gaze going down to his feet and then up again.

Winston's spine tingles.