Evan didn't say anything while Jared explained to him what they were going to do next. He just stood there with the screwdriver in his hand while Jared cleaned up. He still had his backpack on his back, and his free hand toyed with the strap that hung down. Where once it had been ridged, it was smooth from Evan's constant worrying it in his hand.
He sniffed the screwdriver, but it really just smelled like orange juice. he took a tentative sip, not very much, just enough that he would get a taste. "It's...it just tastes like orange juice," he said. He took a second sip, a little more generous than the first. But Jared had said to nurse it, small sips. So he pulled it away from his lips and just held it.
He watched Jared intently, his blue eyes bright and focused. He didn't look away, didn't look at the floor or the cat rubbing against his legs. He was entirely focused on Jared, until he was told to get the shot glasses. That seemed to pull him out of his trance like state, and he reached for them both. He tapped them together as he picked them up, and froze for a second because he thought he might have cracked or broken them. That wasn't the case, though, and he was a little more careful when he picked them up the second time.
He followed Jared to his room. He stood at the door awkwardly holding the shot glasses and the Screwdriver. His eyes scanned the room. It wasn't quite how he remembered it, but he'd only been to Jared's house the one time, when he was a kid. The room was more fitting a teenager now, slightly messy but not trashed. Jared's mom evident ally didn't make him keep it clean and spotless like Evan's room had to be.
Jared said to make himself at home. He took that to mean he could put the shot glasses down on the desk, where Jared had put the whiskey. He turned around from that, screwdriver still in his hand, and saw Jared getting comfortable on the bed. There wasn't anywhere else to sit, and he wasn't sure he should sit on the bed anyway, so he stood there awkwardly looking at Jared.
He wondered if his arousal showed. He didn't dare look down at his crotch and draw attention to it. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. Was he red faced? Would Jared notice? What would he think?
Evan lanced back at the door, thinking he should probably bolt. But where would he go? He stood where he was, frozen and uncertain, and he slowly lifted the glass to his lips to take a sip of the drink.