Re: Billy K/Jamie M: the Mayers apartment
Billy had spent a certain of years in school with people wanting to hit him, yeah, but the majority of it? Had been when he insisted on trying public school in an extremely misguided attempt to ‘normalize’. Which had been a stupid fucking idea, ftr. But yeah, the pink hair and the leopard print hats and the red leather jackets and the skinny jeans that clung to every inch, all of that shit made him confident when he knew that he couldn’t easily be fucked with.
The stride of Billy’s weight settling across Jamie’s lap was grounding. He knew he how to do this, but it wasn’t just a distraction - he wanted to feel the warmth of the guy’s thighs under his ass, wanted that weight of Jamie’s palm against his hipbone. He grinned, sliding his fingertips along the edges of the guy’s collarbone where they jutted through the thin material of his shirt, then laughing aloud, bright and ringing loud over the music, as Jamie took hold of one of his hands. “New Zealand is like, twice the size of New York and I’m pretty sure has something like seventy-five percent less people. That may be a lot of countryside, with a lot of sheep, but it’s still pretty small.”
He bit his lip again, an involuntary response to the sudden wet heat of Jamie’s mouth against his fingertips. Even still he grinned, pink flesh of his bottom lip pressed white against teeth as he gently pressed his index and middle finger inward, past Jamie’s lips and teeth, sliding against his tongue. Leaning forward so that most of his weight pressed down where his other hand was still flat against the guy’s chest, he went basically nose-to-nose, then dipped his face to the side so that his lips skimmed over Jamie’s cheekbone. “All I’ve got is reasons. That’s how I ended up here.”