Re: Billy K/Jamie M: the Mayers apartment
Billy was the definition of fashion gay, except like, it was all vintage finds? It wasn’t like he had the funds to buy brand-new YSL on a hooker’s budget. His one luxury was the affinity for CK underwear, which, ftr, were tight black briefs under his jeans rn. But the rest of him, yeah, it was borderline peacock. The cotton-candy hair that had been bright fuchsia to start and faded with every wash, the fact that he had faded flecks of gold polish on his nails. He was an in-your-face kind of queer even in Repose because he knew from experience that if he got fucked with, he could level half a city block. Not that he wanted that, again, obviously. But the knowledge lent itself to the confidence.
“Nah,” he said, head dipping back as he watched Jamie’s fingers comb through his hair that, in Billy’s opinion, was the perfect length for grabbing onto and tugging hard. “Just gotta be careful.” He grinned even wider, thought about sliding down from his hands braced against to the bed to his elbows, but thought better of it when Jamie’s ass landed on the edge of the mattress next to his. “Are you kidding me? This room is gorgeous.” And he meant it, looking around at the colour on the walls and then again at the art. He turned, then, as his head was craned back around to look at the framed photographs on the walls - turned into Jamie, lifting his outside leg so that he could swing it up and over the guy’s lap, straddling him and bringing both hands up to smooth over his hair back from his temples.
“I don’t fucking know. It looks pretty, and it’s a small place. Could probably get away with hiding out there. You wanna come with?” His voice dropped to a murmur as he said it, both hands sliding down the sides of Jamie’s head to his neck, fingertips trailing over his throat, then hands moving to plant against Jamie’s chest. He pushed, not hard, but clearly suggesting the guy lay back against the bed. “Got any reasons to leave?"