Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
"I get taught by old people," Tory considered. "Or I did. Or according to you, I am old people, twenty-five and well into my decrepitude, in which you will shortly join me," he said with a laugh. "And I promise you, I never once thought of any of my professors naked," he added with a laugh. Because humor was always going to be Tory's fallback, in situations where he wasn't quite comfortable, where he wasn't sure where he fit. Yes, the attraction was mutual and he thought that was pretty obvious on both ends, and that made him uncomfortable, because he didn't have this experience of being casual, or FWB, or whatever. He'd been with a total of three guys in his entire life and he was sure most people would chalk that up as a sad fucking existence. "Nor have I worn a speedo," he concurred. "I'm one of those dudes who has swimming trunks down to my knees. I'm a ginger; the sun is the enemy."
"Yes, okay, I'm passionate. I fucking love what I do," Tory admitted. "I love being in the lab and playing with all the chemicals and just...digging into problems that probably won't - or can't - be solved in my lifetime. But I keep trying because..." he sighed, but it wasn't frustrated. It sounded pleased. "That's what science is. And you never stop learning."
Ah, and Jamie's hand was on his wrist, and his fingers were warm and dude when had the last time he'd been touched at all, been? "Okay, no shoes." He put his hand on Jamie's shoulder for some semblance of balance and used his feet to pry the shoes off and kick them out of the way, which did nudge him down like, a quarter-inch? He was wearing yellow socks, like neon-bright, highlighter-bright things, a color that was probably favored of road crews and third-tier professional sports teams. Tory put his feet back together. "I'll probably fall on my ass anyway," he said with a shrug. "Like, giving it a 75-80 percent possibility at worst. So, teach me something not stellar, and if I do fall, try to not let my crack my skull open on your table."