Re: The Apartment: Jamie/Seven
Shit was different. Like, that wasn't NEWS to Jamie. He'd thumbed through a thousand messages before he'd hit Seven up. Like, nearly a year of blatant fucking come-ons that had rolled in to something else, like the way water changed color the further deep the ocean got and he'd stopped on pause where the messages broke, months in the gap between then and now. He didn't have comparison, to other people. He just had the guy, who watched him with the sift of blue eyes that strayed across Jamie's face and rested there like he could read what Jame thought from what rose murkily up to the surface. It wasn't like, intrusive? It was the difference between being noticed and being seen, which was kinda way fucking soft and kinda disgustingly close to emotional for Jamie to like, rest long on the thought.
He wasn't avoiding. Like, he was looking which was different. His head was fucking full of Holly, and Holly's like, certainty, and the wall between that, which was like, way obviously different and here when Jamie wasn't certain of anything. Except maybe, that Seven liked him, a little even if Jamie couldn't fucking explain why even when the guy was wrapped around him so hard he could smell the old cigarette smoke under the new.
"I'm okay with all night," as the guy's laughter gusted through his hair, caught warmly on the inside of his ear. "It's cool. I mean, nothing's changed since the last time, the bed is still my size instead of a fucking lake." Which was more knowledge than he'd had before, the gleanings of early morning terror and a late night thickened and glazed with liquor Jamie didn't actually want to think about drinking anytime soon. "But Cat sleeps there too, so you know, you guys have gotta be buddies because otherwise? You're going to regret the morning wake-up call."
He said it muffled against the slide of Seven's mouth, the taste of outside on his lips and the faint tannin from black tea on Jamie's own. Jamie didn't even need to look at Cat to know she wasn't like, IMPRESSED by this. Cat was cool w/Jamie hanging out solo forever, it was kind of her world-view so far. He picked the guy's hand off his cheek, and interlaced fingers which felt - surreal, maybe? A little weirdly obvious, but he thumbed the inner lines of Seven's palm and tugged, until the spot that had been like, way recently warm he could kinda guide Seven into.
"The rating's settled," Jamie said, comfortably as he took up the spot between cat and guy, his knee jammed against Seven's thigh, his other winged wide so that Cat could climb onto the warm slope of his sweat-pants-coated thigh which she did. "PG. That's it," and he grinned.