Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
It wasn't Jamie's first experience of people who didn't know 100% how to ask what they wanted, okay. He had months of Ren, of the casual elision of friendship into mutual gratification until he kinda felt like the gratification, the fulfilment of the itch Ren wanted scratching had washed out the friendship, until the walls were blurred and muddied and he didn't know his way back from it. But this wasn't that. He didn't have months of friendship to blur with Tory, he had a memory as a foundation and that was it.
He kinda gave it his all, okay. It was kind of like pride, the ability to hold up his end of the 'yeah, this is definitely better than doing shit solo' and a certain amount of thoughtless generosity, because Jamie worked out about five minutes in, that three years was enough to get a little rusty. But yeah, it wasn't dramatic, it wasn't an expression of anything but the momentary and Jamie folded an arm behind his head as Tory kind of sacked out against him with a loose collision of limbs that maybe a year ago, would have bothered the shit out of him and now just - yk, didn't.
He let him. The casual thing, Jamie who was used to touch as an extension of work, of physicality, he felt Tory's breath catch along his skin still damp from exertion, and the vague tickling sensation of the weight of the guy's arm across his pectoral. "Yeah, wise move," he yawned, mid-smile, "She does that most times. Like, sits outside the door like a creeper. I figure it's the only time I don't let her in, so it's the one time she wants to chill and cuddle and shit," which was said fondly, toward the door.
"You probably want to shower first," which was semi-obvious, "You know, when you're up to like, moving. I'm not," Jamie said, truthfully, and he had the combination of tequila and aftermath curdled together to weight limbs like lead, "But the water's pretty good. I don't think Mars is home, so you can probably risk not getting dressed first, although I wasn't really like, listening for the door."