Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
It had been the topic of conversation and to be really fucking honest? It was still a topic of conversation, even when Tory stopped talking about the relative size of his dick to geography. But Jamie had the slurry of tequila, latent anger and a whole lot of other people's stuff bubbling around in there and he didn't need to talk about the guy's lap. Tory was here, and he was drinking like tequila was in short supply and the guy would figure out which way he wanted to drive by the end of it. The conversation? Was on like, levels.
"Old people, period, water polo, period," Jamie said carefully and clearly, with another of those small, bright smiles that said asshole as affectionately as the term could get thrown around with a (near) perfect stranger. "There's both. My school had a water polo team. Shocker, I was not on it. And yeah, it's shitty tequila," he shrugged, a gesture that was a lot more fluid with tequila in his system, "It's there to get drunk on, not to like, appreciate the vintage."
There was a note of familiarity that chimed in Tory's voice, agreement and acknowledgment. "It was hell," Jamie rolled his head back onto the couch and grinned at the ceiling, "But I don't know, you ever get in science, that thing where like, if you just put a little more in, like, a tiny bit more and it feels like it'll kill you, but if you do, the whole thing will just be awesome? It's like that. With bruises," he said, comfortably, and he looked at Tory lazily as the guy talked about teaching himself. Smart guys were intimidating. They just were, they knew shit and they lived in it, until it was easy as breathing or something, and he kinda got and he kinda appreciated that Tory probably knew.
"It's hard, man. Like, it's not the same. You're teaching little girls to twirl, and people to shake their hips and stuff and it's nowhere close to company class. Like, forty people who know how it feels to want something that bad," he said with the kind of naked honesty that had a lot to do with the tequila, and a little to do with seeing Tory's like, embarrassing episode, "Science doesn't work like that, huh? And ouch," he winced, "Twenty-four. Twenty-five in like, a month," which was realization, and Jamie shrugged one shoulder up-down. "Thirty is old. But you've got to make principal dancer before then if you're going to stay past thirty. I figured I could do it, but I was only like, small parts out of the chorus. I kinda liked it? I'm not very cut-throat," which was way obvious, and he laughed. "Is this as bad as genus, family stuff? I don't know, ballet's kinda like my thing."