Re: The Apartment: Jamie/Seven
Yeah, nah. He'd been oblivious to it a while. Like, growing up it was more like who wasn't wealthy than who was, you know? At the local hs there had been a water polo team and the faint aroma of homophobia over the Lacoste cologne and privilege wasn't a thing to get noted or studied or whatever. But working kinda made the difference. Jamie had his dad's credit card and enough cash to cushion the shitty wages of an apprentice starting out but living like everyone else? Was how you fitted in. The corps was all about fitting in, becoming uniform. It had been the first time in his entire life he'd felt that way, like there was nothing about him that misfit.
Cat woke, like by degrees as Seven nodded like the movement was undertow, the murk of the stuff he wasn't saying but he was thinking about Marta and Sawyer was heavy - she uncurled, stretched tiny spine all the way up into a stiffened comma, and climbed the back of the couch to sit way way back up by the back of the cushions. Without her weight, his thigh cooled quickly and Jamie rearranged himself, which brought his knee up, foot flat against the couch and put a wall between the kitchen and the guy, hemmed Seven in between the couch arm and Jamie himself.
He couldn't tell what was going on underneath. Seven's control? Was like, way heavy-duty, even if he looked really fucking tired by it. "So? If she wants Tommy to call her, Tommy calls her. It doesn't matter," he said, way fucking insistent because the whole point, as far as Jamie got it, wasn't Marta at all. But the kid. Jamie skirted around the like, vague discomfort in the pit of his belly at lingering on that, and fixated. Because fixating? Was way easier. "Have the conversation. You can figure it out from there, Seven."
But the guy opened his eyes, not even a little fucking drowsy in blue. He was kinda getting used to, a little, the idea of being looked at by the guy when he wasn't getting naked and it threw him momentary, the way the ground felt like it twisted or whatever as Seven like, folded up the blank check and put it away, dragged knuckles over fuzzy blue. "What happens when you want?" And it was a serious question, Jamie's mouth caught, flashed sly, needling humor. "Because I can definitely remember you wanting."