𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 james x alex

christ what are chapters and how do you names them

"You actually remembered last night and decided t'make me pancakes?" James asks.

"I actually remembered," Alex confirms. "Everyfing we talked about, it's still ok?" He asks. He turns the microwave on for thirty seconds to heat up the pancakes, getting out the golden syrup from the cupboard for them.

"Yeah. I think 'm still in." James says. He looks at Alex for a long, lingering moment and then walks across the kitchen, looking over the slightly deformed pancakes.

"Thanks for breakfast," Jmaes says. "I appreciate it." His voice still gruff from sleep.

"S'okay," The interaction feels so close to domestic. They're going to do this and he's terrified. He kind of needs James right at that second to steady himself.

The microwave beeps at him a few seconds later. "Pancakes are done," Alex says quietly. "Y'get first pick of them."

"So why'd you make pancakes for me?" James asks as he plucks the plate out of the microwave and selects several of the largest pancakes for himself, pouring golden syrup over them.

"I..." Alex starts out and hesitates. "I wanted t'be nice for you is all," he lies. Not a good husband for the year. Just 'nice'.

"Well, glad you wanted to be nice to me. Think it'll happen more often?" James jokes.

"Maybe," Alex agrees. Already, he's planning on what to make them for dinner. He's thinking spaghetti seeing as it's one of the few things that are actually in his flat that he can make.

God, he really doesn't know why this is so important to him but it is and he's going full-out with it.

They take their breakfasts into the lounge, Alex bringing kitchen roll with them so they can dab at their mouths when they get syrup-y, and they turn on the TV.

Eventually, Alex winds up gathering up their plates and going into the kitchen and washing everything up and when he comes back, James is busy playing Plague, Inc, having recently bought it and gotten addicted to it, as he does half the games he buys for his phone.

Smiling a little as James mutters to himself about "C'mon, infect Russia," Alex starts a load of laundry and then calls as he's pouring detergent into the little area where you pull it out to pour, "James, have any laundry? I'm already doing mine s' I'll do yours if you'd like."

"Uh, yeah. If you really want. It's in my closet." James calls back. He sounds confused and Alex can't really blame him. Alex doesn't exactly offer to do his laundry for him, well, ever.

But Alex dutifully goes into James' room and gathers the hamper of clothing and brings it out to where the washer and dryer are and sets it down as a reminder to himself when he changes out his load before returning to where James is, though now he grabs his laptop and turns it on.

James normally sits right next to Alex as they do their thing throughout the day but today, he actually keeps the space between them on the couch. It's a silent reminder that things are a little weird no matter what they do.

An hour rolls by and Alex hears the washer beep, gets up and switches out the load, throwing his in the dryer and James' in the washer, going back and picking up his laptop where he left off.

He's on Twitter and people are clamouring to post information or video from Vegas, and with a sigh, he goes to post. I'm cursed i tried to upload the footage and its corrupted he posts, a blatant lie.

James frowns a few minutes later. "Why am I getting all these people askin' me what happened in Vegas and if I have any footage if yours is corrupted?"