Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
Sure, it kind of hung in the air between them, and Tory was waffling in a way because the longer he spent time with Jamie and (to be fair) the more the tequila started to settle comfortably in his bloodstream, the more he liked the guy, and that was factoring heavily in his decision. He had drawn the line at casual and anon but now he was starting to waver on the casual part. It had been a while, after all. Three years, as previously stated. And no he wasn't so heavily involved in any way with his love life, so it could easily be three more. He was thinking about it.
"I'm going to need more," Tory said, tipping a bit into the shot glass for the third time, "if you keep making old people and swimming adjacent things in my mind," he accused Jamie. Thing was, Tory was a lightweight, and even with a couple of pieces of pizza in him, three shots of tequila definitely, at the very least, meant he wasn't driving home any time soon. This one, he downed in a shot, with another grimace. "But here I am now, hopes dashed that I'd hear about your water polo days. Definitely easier to imagine you in a speedo," he said with a crooked grin. His face was a little flushed but that was definitely starting to be due to the alcohol.
"School was...god, six years of that? Exactly that. I did about ten years' worth of school in six. Kept fucking pushing, you know? So yeah, I get it. Maybe not like from a physical standpoint, not the way you must have had to, but...I get it." And he had, he'd gotten what he wanted, and he wouldn't ever admit that it was for the chance - the chance - that Colin would somehow find him if he got well-known enough in the field. Fuck, what a loser. "So...it kind of works like that. But not...not with the passion, you know?"
Then he burst out in a laugh. Or really, it was giggles. He was at the giggling stage and he didn't know when he'd come through the door, but clearly sometime in the last few minutes. "Shit man, I'm sorry. Oh, shit. I'm older than you. Not like, by much...I'm twenty-five now." He leaned his head back on the couch, exposing his throat. "I bet you could've done it. Hey." He got up a little unsteadily from the couch, pushing himself to his feet and spreading his arms out wide. "So here I stand before you, a white guy with zero rhythm or grace, who is also slowly and steadily getting drunk. If I showed up for my first day of class, what would you teach me? Come show me," he said with a beckoning hand. "I taught you a little, now you come teach me."