He was catching his breath fast enough, though still panting as James reached him. But he did have enough energy to stick his tongue out at James, just the tip, just enough to make a point. God, he hadn't run like that in ages. It was cathartic. And exhausting, and pushing the drug through his system a lot faster. He felt like he could take on the world, fuck the establishment.
Apparently James was on the same page as well. Fisher turned to him, an eyebrow raised. It looked like James was serious. "Okay," he said simply, finally able to talk like normal. "Let's." He scooted closed to James, not obviously so, but close enough to be touching the other man, their thighs and shoulders touching. A shiver ran through him, and he told himself it was the wind, the coastline chill. It was just the night air.