Jesse's nervous. Andrew can tell. The way his mouth opens and closes is subtle. The lack of words between the two of them makes Andrew tense up. He misses their banter more when Jesse's only a few inches away and introverted, then when he's on another continent. (Jesse's frequent texts and surprise phone calls at noon heal the hurt a little.) Jesse's right there and he's nervous and Andrew doesn't know what to do with himself.
Because he can't kiss Jesse properly right now, the way he wants to, the way that makes Jesse sigh softly, breathless when he presses his lips to the skin right underneath his temple. And then slowly opens his mouth in rhythm to a song he once thought he forgot, and Andrew smiles at the thought that he can make Jesse close his eyes, and focus all his attention on him. But because he can't do that, he thinks he could just be the string to Jesse's kite. Watch Jesse as he soars in the sky, his pale green wings a soft contrast against the bright blue sky, and gently ride the air as he holds on tight. He wants Jesse to float on, confident and relaxed, and when he's ready to come back down, Andrew would only need to tug, just a little. His skin feels tight now and his hand is sweaty; he reaches inside his lapel to wipe off the moisture.
And he very well can't help the way he's been listening to Jesse's every word, relishing in the catches of tongue on teeth, depending on the tone. He's so attuned to this boy. Man. Fuck.
Except there haven't been any words at all. Just breathing and small glances. Jesse's nervous and Andrew also can't help the way his fingers want to to sneak into the space between their well-fitting pants and steal small touches at Jesse's jittery fingers.
But there's cameras and this woman is nearing them, making Jesse even more anxious as she's followed by cameramen.
He doesn't even notice he's touching Jesse's chest, until he hears Jesse's voice and catches himself. He runs a finger down the pleats of Jesse's jacket and smiles at the pitched tenor of Jess' voices. And, luckily, there's lint, so he picks it off and brushes Jesse's shoulder.
They're being asked questions, he knows this. But he can't pay attention to the reporter's words, instead it's really only just Jesse and himself, making remarks and smiling like they're intravenously hooked up to happy in liquid form.
"Is that fun for you, the fashion stuff? Or just sort of silly, to put on something and take some pictures?
She asked something about clothing, but Andrew's really not there. He notices the way Jesse's trying to assuage the pressure from his collar. And that might've been his fault, because he couldn't really concentrate earlier when Jesse asked Andrew to help with his tie.
"I'm wearing the same shirt I wore to my bar mitzvah. Uh, we had to take it in a little bit 'cause I've lost weight. And uh, mmm, I have no idea... about the clothes." Jesse answers, and Andrew's hanging off every syllable. He smiles tenderly, at the the self-deprecating humor and wants to roll his eyes. He wants to offer compliments, but he doesn't know where to start.
"But you look great! Somehow you've managed to--"
"You didn't know me at thirteen."
Andrew stops. He laughs a little to ease that little jolt of jealousy.
"I really wish I did."
The reporter butts in, "How 'bout you? Do you enjoy getting ready for things like this?"
"I probably enjoy a-" Andrew laughs because Jesse's said 'thank you,' that smarmy bastard. When he gets over the rush, he continues, "I probably enjoy it a little bit more than Jesse. So, you know, I don't know why. Why psychologically-" and he chooses that moment to look at Jesse and see the way Jesse's listening, his face is passive and still and fuckable. He's mumbling now. "I- I- I- I like...," He's been staring at Jesse for the past couple of seconds and if he continues this sentence is going to end in 'Jesse' so he looks away and finishes with "...clothes, I appreciate clothes, maybe a little bit more, but not, not greatly more." Honestly, replace 'clothes' with 'Jesse' and you'd have Andrew figured out.
"Like seventeen percent," Jesse says
"Yeah," Andrew tries not to seem obvious, really, he's trying, but Jesse's lips are kind of an attention-whore. "Right around that area."
The reporter's shrill laugh reminds him that there are other people besides him and Jesse. And there's lots of noise and cameras flashing and once again, someone's asking Jesse questions. Something about dates for the Oscars.
"I'm doing a, uh, very thorough interview process. Uh, we get several candidates. It's gonna be televised. On FOX. And um, you know, the winner gets to go on to round two." Jesse is so fucking clever, Andrew thinks.
"How 'bout you, Andrew?" She asks, again. (He doesn't even mind that Jesse gets the questions first.)
Honestly, he's trying his hardest. "Um, I am in- I'm auditioning for round one. And then, we'll see, you know." Andrew shrugs and crosses his fingers.
And they're moving, and Andrew's almost excited because this means he can whisper inside jokes about how he gets Jesse's sloppy seconds and Jesse can roll his eyes and laugh with him, but the press won't relent.
"-Jesse, just one quick question!" "-Andrew!" "-Which actress would you most like to work with next in a film, respectively?"
Andrew hears silence and then realizes that Jesse's pointing at him. He says his own name with pride and Jesse chuckles at that and repeats it. The words fall out of his mouth like siren calls to Andrew's ears and he can't help but clutch at Jesse's frame, his fingers finding hold on his right arm. He presses forward.
"I'm being pushed, my body is being pushed," Jesse explains to the reporters and Andrew just smirks and rubs the word 'mine' over the fabric. Jesse's smiling apologetically and he turns to face Andrew.
His face is almost emotionless, but Andrew doesn't need to see the canvas to feel the expression. And besides, Jesse's lips are curling at the corners.
Andrew blinks, and suddenly Jesse's leaning forward. His chest expands and contracts so suddenly, it hurts, but when he feels Jesse's lips on his ear, it all goes away.
"So much for 'Try not to make it obvious that you're in love with me, Jesse'." Jesse whispers, and Andrew flushes a deep red, and forces himself to remain calm. And he swears Jesse's lips brush against his temple before he's back to standing upright. Jesse reaches his hand over Andrews, and just for a second, he squeezes, tight and reassuring.
Andrew really wishes this would be over soon. He may be an actor, but pretending that he's only just really good friends with his co-star is pretty fucking hard.