Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
"I guess you have to start somewhere," Tory said approvingly. "I think it's good that you're making the effort." He should probably give his dad a call, see how things were going. They'd been close, once upon a time. Not that anything had really happened that pulled them apart, aside from the natural expedients of Tory getting older and his father moving up the ladder at work. Tory had school, Dad had work, and they both kind of built their own worlds which intersected less and less.
He curled back up to Jamie's side. It wasn't possessive, the way he touched, just casually affectionate with someone who would let him be; probably until they had both slept and awoken and showered and then some sort of spell would be broken. For now, though. And it was nice to have a person to touch. "Horribly spoiled only child," he responded drowsily, and through a yawn to boot, absently wondering how time and chance had worked that one out: four siblings who apparently had nothing to do with a place all ending up there anyway. But then - again - someone he didn't know yesterday had been basically YouTubing up his childhood memories. So time and chance probably meant fuck all. "Mostly it's just me and my dad. He's still in New York."
"Never really got into them," he murmured. "Mostly video games, that's my brand of nerdiness. Books, too, but not the comic variety, you know? Sci-fi." Oh, he was crashing hard, and used the last of his really conscious energy to lean up, give Jamie a brief kiss on the mouth. "I'm gonna sleep now," he said, coming to rest with his head against Jamie's chest, arm over his stomach and fingers lightly curled around Jamie's. "Thanks."