Re: The Apartment: Jamie/Seven
Jamie did this thing when he got to this place. Like, he knew it, which was fucked up but it was also kinda a relief to know it, than to do this shit unthinking. He collected teas, the kind you drank thin and clear and with nothing added, teas that took time to pour and make and smelled fragrant and hot water that sat heavy in your stomach until you pissed clear and you stopped feeling light-headed. The jasmine tea? Was straight out of a line of teas in the cupboard above the hob where the kettle lived, and there were way more now than there had been on move in. Because if you fucked around drinking that, you didn't feel any kind of room left over.
It was weird seeing Seven drink it, like he was consuming part of a secret he didn't even know he had. Maybe he did, Jamie didn't fucking know at this point what the guy figured out and what he hadn't. There was a way the guy had, of looking at him like he'd figured out something, maybe seen it written on Jamie's chin or against his jaw, or maybe just because applied experience gave like, a point of comparison or something. It was exhausting, and it was kind of really fucking comforting, and it was terrifying, like wearing your shit out open. He knew, ftr, the sweater wasn't hiding shit, and he appreciated the guy didn't say a fucking word. Seven's eyes slid to slits as he scraped the blunt edges of his nails over the guy's scalp, the sift of silk over Jamie's palm, and let the guy look him over, maybe a little fucking dry-mouthed over what exactly, Seven saw there.
It was the intent? He didn't know what was in it, and the tension crept in to the muscle of thigh and knee and jostled just enough that Cat's purr juddered like the creakiest of warnings. Intent focused Seven's face, and Jamie could kind of see a thousand things in it turned towards him. The weighted bruises under his eyes where he hadn't fucking slept, or not enough or whatever, the bright, bright blue of his eyes, the way he like, held his mouth when he was thinking about saying something. Jamie knew the guy wasn't like, pretty in the traditional kinda sense but the guy was kind of beautiful and there was no one who could see all that shit and argue, right?
"Holly is also like, the realist who is now promoting Valentines as like, a good date night or whatever, so we don't take him seriously. Although that's like, a point. Noah's throwing a surprise thing, for Holly? On Valentines, I guess. Hugh's co-hosting it, but I want to go because it's for Holly, but like, warning, Marta's also his bff, I guess. So you could come with?" Which was like, casual, because it was. That wasn't like, the date.
"I think? You weren't way clear on your thing, like, hanging around around the times we fuck that you want to get asked out."