marze04
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Summary
Nonlinear, Jamie thinks. Trent explained that to him once, and it stuck with him, the idea that not everything just keeps on moving forward all the time. Sometimes people fall back into old patterns, sometimes things don't happen in the right order. Sometimes you think a story is going to tell you what happens next, and instead it turns around to look the other way. But the story isn't really moving backwards when it does that, Trent said. It's just using the backwards look to build a stronger foundation for moving ahead.
"That fight was fucked up, yeah?" Jamie leans closer to Roy, smells the beer in his bottle and on his breath, remembers what it felt like to gulp one down in that bar after months of going without. Remembers what Roy's knuckles felt like smashing into his nose after years of going without.
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Summary
It's the perfect date, right up until Jamie is wrenched out of it and dumped into an alternate dimension where Roy hates his guts.
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"I don't need some fucking in-depth heart-to-heart. Just tell me that what Keeley said is what you want. Push you around and use you like a Fleshlight, yeah? And you'll say the safeword if anything's wrong?"
"Obviously, since I did." Jamie's face is pink, and he won't make eye contact. "Yes. Use me. That's what I want."
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It might not be the greatest idea to put someone who's dumped both of them in charge of their gay scandal, but it sounds a hell of a lot better to Jamie than trusting it to the new head of Richmond PR, who he barely knows. He texts Keeley back and puts his phone away, battling the urge to start checking all his social media accounts. Plenty of time for that later. Right now, Roy's shoulders have dropped from his ears just enough to offer a hug, which he accepts like Jamie's entire torso is a reporter's neck in need of strangling.
Series
- Part 1 of matterverse
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Summary
It's almost—almost—a relief. It's been exhausting, all the ducking and dodging and repressing. That's over, now that Jamie knows how soft the inside of Roy's bottom lip feels against his tongue. There's no repressing anymore, there's no denial. He's in fucking love, can't be helped. In a way, it feels nice to let go of his hangups and just accept it.
In another way, a much more immediate way, it feels like hot shit.