Guess who's baack.
Heeeeey long time no see. I have drabbles/ficlets for you! And I have to go like NOW so I won't say much more. Enjoy. <3
Title: Brought To You By The Letter L
Rating: G - PG-13 for cursing, allusions to sex, and one part with an abusive stepdad.
Word Count: Total, 2,265 of eight drabbles/ficlets... shortest: 99, longest: 595
Other Stuff: ..jesus it's been so long since I've done this I don't even know what I'm supposed to write. ;_; Um, stuff goes here. I love you guys.
[Lies]
“Nah, go ahead with Katie, I don’t really feel like going out tonight.”
“Hey, I’m glad you had a good time.”
“My ankle’s fine, just let me get out there again!”
“Nnnno, I dunno what you’re talking about, the pills have been low like that for awhile.”
“…yeah, Jimmy, that totally looks good on you.”
“No, I do not have a thing for my partner. Next question.”
“Well, uh, the reason I’ve been missing meetings is because I’ve been really busy… not having sex! Jesus Taylor, don’t look at me like that!”
“Hey, no need to explain, I know how plans can change… yeah, it’s totally fine you want to hang with Katie tonight. I’m a big boy, I can handle being alone.”
“I once masturbated to a picture of Scott Hamilton PSYCH!”
“Huh, that’s funny, I don’t remember Katie leaving a message for you…”
“COACH I’ll give you twenty bucks to kiss Jesse!”
“JESSE I’ll give you fifty bucks to kiss Coach!”
“JIMMY I’ll let you use the Verticolli if you kiss Jesse- OW FUCKING HELL ROBERT WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR OW!”
“No, I swear to God Jimmy didn’t have to pull our coach off me when he was wailing on my ass. I can totally handle myself in a fight with a middle-aged man.”
“…no really, I can.”
“I sweeear to drunk officer, I’m not God!”
“I swear I don’t know how I got in here again.”
“…yeah, if you think this is the time to take you and Katie’s relationship to the next level, I think that’s great. Seeya tomorrow then, homeschool.”
“I’m fine. Really. I don’t know where Jimmy went.”
“I’m fine, okay? Get off my back already.”
“No, it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I hope Katie’s enjoying getting her brains fucked out right about now.”
“No, just leave me alone!”
“How many times do I have to say it? I don’t like him like that.”
“Fine, I’ll look you in the eyes when I say it. I don’t like Jimmy like that.”
“To bed. I threw away the last of the vodka last week, I promise.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not going to cry or anything.”
“I’ll be fine.”
--------------------------------
[Love]
“Love,” Jimmy suggests, “is a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day.”
“Mm… nah. Love is spending twice as much on the good bottle of lube.”
“…um, no. It’s more like snuggling under the blankets watching movies together.”
“Snuggling under the blankets in between rounds of headboard-banging sex?”
“Sharing clothes even though the sizes are a bit off.”
“Sharing condoms even though- oh wait, Taylor told me not to do that anymore…”
“Good, I’ll send him a bouquet.” -_- “It’s kissing at that special place in the park no one else knows is ours.”
“It’s kissing you in your special place that I hope no one else knows about.” Worried pause! “They don’t, do they? I don’t have to go kill anyone, do-”
Jimmy sighs and gently takes Chazz’s face in his hands, tugging it close. “Love,” he says with a mix of mock and real exasperation, “is putting up with everything that comes with the Chazz Michael Michaels package.”
“Love,” Chazz says a bit snootily, turning up his nose, “is having to put up with explaining every single thing about sex to a virgin… and then having to explain it again!” Jimmy kisses just under Chazz’s jaw and sucks lightly. “Mmm ahh hmm well. At least the virgin learned fast?”
Jimmy just shakes his head and wraps his pale arms around his partner’s back. Looking up at him he says softly, “I think love is you.”
Chazz smiles and wraps his arms around Jimmy, too (though naturally, his hands sit quite a deal lower on Jimmy’s back than Jimmy’s do on his). “Love is us,” he decides firmly, bridging the gap between their lips.
“Yeah,” Jimmy whispers after a few moments, “that sounds about right.”
--------------------------------
[Loss]
Coach has little to say; Jimmy thinks that maybe it’s because he’s as upset as they are, but still, it hurts not to have the man at least try to comfort them, a little. Jimmy puts on a brave face for the inevitable media hounds and Chazz turns up the swagger to almost indescribable levels, but the blond can see the sympathy and, yes, pity in the reporters’ faces.
“Tough luck,” one of them says, patting him on the shoulder as goes off to interview the winning pair. “Can’t win ‘em all.”
That’s a sentiment Jimmy hears repeated to him all day, when Jesse greets him later with a hug and when Katie tries to take his mind off the day and when, finally, Coach decides to start talking again. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter in the long run. You two are still great. Can’t win ‘em all.
“You know what?” Chazz growls suddenly, eyes blazing in their room that night. “Screw being good losers, this absolutely sucks monkey balls.”
“I know,” Jimmy says quietly, staring at the bed slats above him. He can imagine that fwomph fwomph fwomph sound is Chazz betting the crap out of his pillow. “You think we can come back?”
“Of course,” Chazz scoffs, “we’re the best team ever. You can’t trust scores or judges. They were just blinded by our awesome today. Hey-” He sticks his head over the side of his bunk. “You think I should wear something less sexy next time? So the judges can focus on getting us sixes and get their hands out of their pants?”
Jimmy laughs a little and even manages a weak smile. “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see next time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chazz advises and disappears again from Jimmy’s view. “We’ll get first again and show all the bastards.”
Jimmy sighs and tries to get to sleep. Of course, though, of course he’ll worry about it. He’ll worry about it all night.
--------------------------------
[Lullaby]
“Where’d you learn to sing?” Jimmy murmurs. The other man’s chest gently rises and falls beneath his cheek, vibrating with low, melodic tones, and Chazz waits to finish the stanza before answering.
“Dunno. Mom was in the church choir, so maybe it’s in my blood.” Chazz hums a few bars, fingers tapping the beat on Jimmy’s bare shoulder. He smiles at the half-asleep blond in his arms.
“S’nice voice,” Jimmy says between yawns. “Baritone, right?”
“Hell if I know.” Chazz strokes Jimmy’s hair awhile, mulling things over. “Go to sleep, Jimmy,” he tells him, then starts on another melody. The younger man is asleep before the end.
--------------------------------
[Loser]
There’s a reason Chazz doesn’t like being called a loser. He’ll… probably never tell anyone about it. It’s one of those private things you keep to yourself, kinda like the whatever-it-was Jimmy went through in the two-plus decades he lived with Darren. He’ll listen to Jimmy if he ever wants to talk about it, and he knows Jimmy would do the same for him, but it’s just… not something you talk about.
Night. Rick comes home late. Chazz is waiting for him.
“Move it, Charley,” his stepfather grumbles, voice and movements slurred as he tries to push the boy out of his way.
Chazz stays where he is, though the mix of all the cheap brands of liquor on his stepdad’s breath makes his head spin. “Mom couldn’t find her paycheck today,” he tries to say, only to get roughly shoved to the side.
“Wasn’t much anyway, why d’ya think I’m home so early?” He snorts and starts to head up the staircase. “Fuckin’ bitch needs t’get off her lazy ass and work more, I’m not gonna pay all the fuckin’ bills around here.” His eyes narrow, burning with the short-tempered rage only drunkenness can provide.
“Hey fatass!” Chazz yells before Rick can get upstairs. “You know only a loser spends his girlfriend’s money at a bar, right?”
Rick is back in the kitchen and at Chazz’s throat with astonishing speed. They tussle, but this time age wins out and Rick has his stepson pinned.
“One. She’s m’wife now, and you’re just gonna hafta get used to it.” He grins and leans in; if Chazz could breathe, he’d be reeling from the proximity of that alcoholic stench. “Second… I could make your life so much more miserable, y’little fuck. Not so much the loser now, am I?” Chazz digs his nails into Rick’s wrists, but the man just laughs. “Say it. Say I’m not a loser.”
He just barely loosens his grip on the boy’s neck. Chazz gasps, “notaloser!” and tries to jerk away. The grip tightens again.
“So that makes… who a loser? Say it or I’ll rip your fuckin’ throat out.”
Chazz whimpers until he’s out of breath. Rick holds him like that for a few seconds and then lets him breathe again.
“I am,” he says hoarsely. “I’m a loser.”
“Good boy.” Rick smiles and stands, lightly kicking the boy’s side before starting to head back upstairs.
Besides. He doesn’t think Jimmy would understand.
--------------------------------
[Lung]
It was only a little cough, something Chazz ignored as he kept on skating. It was only a little cough and fever, nothing a good dose of Ibuprofen and Sudafed wouldn’t fix. It was only a little cough, fever, and dizzy spells, and he was only going to stay in bed one day, and only because they all asked him to, like it was something to be worried about.
Now it’s only an extended stay in the hospital with one organ collapsed, the other filling with fluid, and Jimmy crying in the waiting room as the doctor gives the prognosis.
--------------------------------
[Lotus]
“…bullshit.”
“I’m serious, there it is. That’s what almost got us killed.”
“Bullshit! Look at it, it’s… it’s the gayest plant I’ve ever seen in my life! I’m serious! It’s, it’s like the Jack McFarland of flowers!” Poke poke poke.
“Don’t do that, you’ll crush it. I think it’s… well, um, pretty?”
The two stare at the plant in the pot.
“Let’s take it home and flush it down the toilet. You know, for like… symbolically getting over… shit.”
Two hours later, Coach wants to know why there’s a waterlogged lotus flower clogging up the pipes in his bathroom.
--------------------------------
[Lovely]
Jimmy, Chazz has just discovered, has the ability to make Chazz do anything. A sidelong glance, a smile, a brush of his hair, and Chazz will bend over backwards while juggling flaming chainsaws for him. It’s not the best thing, perhaps, that his skating partner is also his ultimate kryptonite, but it’s not like he has much choice in the matter. Jimmy knows it, too. That’s how this situation came around.
Time: just after breakfast. Place: the bathroom. Props: all of Jimmy’s and Katie’s varying skin-care and beauty products, combined.
Mood, Jimmy: delighted. Mood, Chazz: less so.
Oh, he tries to protest, grumbling that he’s pretty enough as it is, he doesn’t need girly-girl makeup, why does Jimmy hate him so much, what did he ever do to deserve getting turned into a drag queen? Jimmy tells him to hush up, he will not get turned into a drag queen, and if he doesn’t sit still Jimmy will shave off all his hair at night don’t think he won’t. Chazz wibbles. Jimmy goes B| and continues about his work. He’s just going to make Chazz even more pretty, and no, he promises not to use anything sparkly or pink. Even though the idea of Chazz in a sparkly pink outfit makes him giggle ominously.
Hold still, Jimmy tells him over and over, lightly whapping him when he squirms under the attack of brushes and eyeliner and colors. Not bright colors, true, more subdued and subtle and earthy-fleshy tones, but color just the same. Chazz whines at the eyeliner, though stops when Jimmy threatens to accidentally miss with the pencil and poke his eye out.
Hey hey hey, no need for violence, Chazz just doesn’t want to look like an emo kid.
He won’t look like an emo kid. He’ll look pretty. Please trust him?
Fine. And the beatings beautifications continue.
After hours and hours of torturous preening, Jimmy finally takes a step back and admires his handiwork. Chazz glares at him, but the look fades as Jimmy’s face takes on a strange expression. Oh great what’d he do, mess up? Chazz looks like some goddammed drag queen, doesn’t he? That’s it, he’s going to jump in the shower right now-
Jimmy grabs his arm. Stop. Turn around, look in the mirror, Chazz.
Chazz does. He looks…
Well, he’s speechless. His eyes smolder, gems of dark blue fire burning beneath smoky eyeshadow- and no, it doesn’t look emo, it looks hella sexy. His cheeks have blush, but Jimmy’s made it look less like makeup and more like he’s spent time out in the sun. (Natural looking but unrealistic: when he tells Jimmy no one will believe Chazz ever got a suntan, Jimmy just rolls his eyes and tells him to enjoy the view.) Chazz never really thought about his cheekbones before, but apparently Jimmy had. The final touch, so sheer it almost isn’t there, are lips that are shiny and thankfully lip-colored (ie: not fire truck red!), full and moist and gah he just wants to make out with his reflection right now. He tells Jimmy this in a very dazed voice, almost unable to comprehend this person standing in front of him is him. Reverently, as he slides arms around his partner, Jimmy tells Chazz that he’s so, so beautiful.
And Chazz thinks, maybe it’s a good thing to let Jimmy get his way sometimes.
Title: Brought To You By The Letter L
Rating: G - PG-13 for cursing, allusions to sex, and one part with an abusive stepdad.
Word Count: Total, 2,265 of eight drabbles/ficlets... shortest: 99, longest: 595
Other Stuff: ..jesus it's been so long since I've done this I don't even know what I'm supposed to write. ;_; Um, stuff goes here. I love you guys.
[Lies]
“Nah, go ahead with Katie, I don’t really feel like going out tonight.”
“Hey, I’m glad you had a good time.”
“My ankle’s fine, just let me get out there again!”
“Nnnno, I dunno what you’re talking about, the pills have been low like that for awhile.”
“…yeah, Jimmy, that totally looks good on you.”
“No, I do not have a thing for my partner. Next question.”
“Well, uh, the reason I’ve been missing meetings is because I’ve been really busy… not having sex! Jesus Taylor, don’t look at me like that!”
“Hey, no need to explain, I know how plans can change… yeah, it’s totally fine you want to hang with Katie tonight. I’m a big boy, I can handle being alone.”
“I once masturbated to a picture of Scott Hamilton PSYCH!”
“Huh, that’s funny, I don’t remember Katie leaving a message for you…”
“COACH I’ll give you twenty bucks to kiss Jesse!”
“JESSE I’ll give you fifty bucks to kiss Coach!”
“JIMMY I’ll let you use the Verticolli if you kiss Jesse- OW FUCKING HELL ROBERT WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR OW!”
“No, I swear to God Jimmy didn’t have to pull our coach off me when he was wailing on my ass. I can totally handle myself in a fight with a middle-aged man.”
“…no really, I can.”
“I sweeear to drunk officer, I’m not God!”
“I swear I don’t know how I got in here again.”
“…yeah, if you think this is the time to take you and Katie’s relationship to the next level, I think that’s great. Seeya tomorrow then, homeschool.”
“I’m fine. Really. I don’t know where Jimmy went.”
“I’m fine, okay? Get off my back already.”
“No, it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I hope Katie’s enjoying getting her brains fucked out right about now.”
“No, just leave me alone!”
“How many times do I have to say it? I don’t like him like that.”
“Fine, I’ll look you in the eyes when I say it. I don’t like Jimmy like that.”
“To bed. I threw away the last of the vodka last week, I promise.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not going to cry or anything.”
“I’ll be fine.”
--------------------------------
[Love]
“Love,” Jimmy suggests, “is a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day.”
“Mm… nah. Love is spending twice as much on the good bottle of lube.”
“…um, no. It’s more like snuggling under the blankets watching movies together.”
“Snuggling under the blankets in between rounds of headboard-banging sex?”
“Sharing clothes even though the sizes are a bit off.”
“Sharing condoms even though- oh wait, Taylor told me not to do that anymore…”
“Good, I’ll send him a bouquet.” -_- “It’s kissing at that special place in the park no one else knows is ours.”
“It’s kissing you in your special place that I hope no one else knows about.” Worried pause! “They don’t, do they? I don’t have to go kill anyone, do-”
Jimmy sighs and gently takes Chazz’s face in his hands, tugging it close. “Love,” he says with a mix of mock and real exasperation, “is putting up with everything that comes with the Chazz Michael Michaels package.”
“Love,” Chazz says a bit snootily, turning up his nose, “is having to put up with explaining every single thing about sex to a virgin… and then having to explain it again!” Jimmy kisses just under Chazz’s jaw and sucks lightly. “Mmm ahh hmm well. At least the virgin learned fast?”
Jimmy just shakes his head and wraps his pale arms around his partner’s back. Looking up at him he says softly, “I think love is you.”
Chazz smiles and wraps his arms around Jimmy, too (though naturally, his hands sit quite a deal lower on Jimmy’s back than Jimmy’s do on his). “Love is us,” he decides firmly, bridging the gap between their lips.
“Yeah,” Jimmy whispers after a few moments, “that sounds about right.”
--------------------------------
[Loss]
Coach has little to say; Jimmy thinks that maybe it’s because he’s as upset as they are, but still, it hurts not to have the man at least try to comfort them, a little. Jimmy puts on a brave face for the inevitable media hounds and Chazz turns up the swagger to almost indescribable levels, but the blond can see the sympathy and, yes, pity in the reporters’ faces.
“Tough luck,” one of them says, patting him on the shoulder as goes off to interview the winning pair. “Can’t win ‘em all.”
That’s a sentiment Jimmy hears repeated to him all day, when Jesse greets him later with a hug and when Katie tries to take his mind off the day and when, finally, Coach decides to start talking again. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter in the long run. You two are still great. Can’t win ‘em all.
“You know what?” Chazz growls suddenly, eyes blazing in their room that night. “Screw being good losers, this absolutely sucks monkey balls.”
“I know,” Jimmy says quietly, staring at the bed slats above him. He can imagine that fwomph fwomph fwomph sound is Chazz betting the crap out of his pillow. “You think we can come back?”
“Of course,” Chazz scoffs, “we’re the best team ever. You can’t trust scores or judges. They were just blinded by our awesome today. Hey-” He sticks his head over the side of his bunk. “You think I should wear something less sexy next time? So the judges can focus on getting us sixes and get their hands out of their pants?”
Jimmy laughs a little and even manages a weak smile. “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see next time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chazz advises and disappears again from Jimmy’s view. “We’ll get first again and show all the bastards.”
Jimmy sighs and tries to get to sleep. Of course, though, of course he’ll worry about it. He’ll worry about it all night.
--------------------------------
[Lullaby]
“Where’d you learn to sing?” Jimmy murmurs. The other man’s chest gently rises and falls beneath his cheek, vibrating with low, melodic tones, and Chazz waits to finish the stanza before answering.
“Dunno. Mom was in the church choir, so maybe it’s in my blood.” Chazz hums a few bars, fingers tapping the beat on Jimmy’s bare shoulder. He smiles at the half-asleep blond in his arms.
“S’nice voice,” Jimmy says between yawns. “Baritone, right?”
“Hell if I know.” Chazz strokes Jimmy’s hair awhile, mulling things over. “Go to sleep, Jimmy,” he tells him, then starts on another melody. The younger man is asleep before the end.
--------------------------------
[Loser]
There’s a reason Chazz doesn’t like being called a loser. He’ll… probably never tell anyone about it. It’s one of those private things you keep to yourself, kinda like the whatever-it-was Jimmy went through in the two-plus decades he lived with Darren. He’ll listen to Jimmy if he ever wants to talk about it, and he knows Jimmy would do the same for him, but it’s just… not something you talk about.
Night. Rick comes home late. Chazz is waiting for him.
“Move it, Charley,” his stepfather grumbles, voice and movements slurred as he tries to push the boy out of his way.
Chazz stays where he is, though the mix of all the cheap brands of liquor on his stepdad’s breath makes his head spin. “Mom couldn’t find her paycheck today,” he tries to say, only to get roughly shoved to the side.
“Wasn’t much anyway, why d’ya think I’m home so early?” He snorts and starts to head up the staircase. “Fuckin’ bitch needs t’get off her lazy ass and work more, I’m not gonna pay all the fuckin’ bills around here.” His eyes narrow, burning with the short-tempered rage only drunkenness can provide.
“Hey fatass!” Chazz yells before Rick can get upstairs. “You know only a loser spends his girlfriend’s money at a bar, right?”
Rick is back in the kitchen and at Chazz’s throat with astonishing speed. They tussle, but this time age wins out and Rick has his stepson pinned.
“One. She’s m’wife now, and you’re just gonna hafta get used to it.” He grins and leans in; if Chazz could breathe, he’d be reeling from the proximity of that alcoholic stench. “Second… I could make your life so much more miserable, y’little fuck. Not so much the loser now, am I?” Chazz digs his nails into Rick’s wrists, but the man just laughs. “Say it. Say I’m not a loser.”
He just barely loosens his grip on the boy’s neck. Chazz gasps, “notaloser!” and tries to jerk away. The grip tightens again.
“So that makes… who a loser? Say it or I’ll rip your fuckin’ throat out.”
Chazz whimpers until he’s out of breath. Rick holds him like that for a few seconds and then lets him breathe again.
“I am,” he says hoarsely. “I’m a loser.”
“Good boy.” Rick smiles and stands, lightly kicking the boy’s side before starting to head back upstairs.
Besides. He doesn’t think Jimmy would understand.
--------------------------------
[Lung]
It was only a little cough, something Chazz ignored as he kept on skating. It was only a little cough and fever, nothing a good dose of Ibuprofen and Sudafed wouldn’t fix. It was only a little cough, fever, and dizzy spells, and he was only going to stay in bed one day, and only because they all asked him to, like it was something to be worried about.
Now it’s only an extended stay in the hospital with one organ collapsed, the other filling with fluid, and Jimmy crying in the waiting room as the doctor gives the prognosis.
--------------------------------
[Lotus]
“…bullshit.”
“I’m serious, there it is. That’s what almost got us killed.”
“Bullshit! Look at it, it’s… it’s the gayest plant I’ve ever seen in my life! I’m serious! It’s, it’s like the Jack McFarland of flowers!” Poke poke poke.
“Don’t do that, you’ll crush it. I think it’s… well, um, pretty?”
The two stare at the plant in the pot.
“Let’s take it home and flush it down the toilet. You know, for like… symbolically getting over… shit.”
Two hours later, Coach wants to know why there’s a waterlogged lotus flower clogging up the pipes in his bathroom.
--------------------------------
[Lovely]
Jimmy, Chazz has just discovered, has the ability to make Chazz do anything. A sidelong glance, a smile, a brush of his hair, and Chazz will bend over backwards while juggling flaming chainsaws for him. It’s not the best thing, perhaps, that his skating partner is also his ultimate kryptonite, but it’s not like he has much choice in the matter. Jimmy knows it, too. That’s how this situation came around.
Time: just after breakfast. Place: the bathroom. Props: all of Jimmy’s and Katie’s varying skin-care and beauty products, combined.
Mood, Jimmy: delighted. Mood, Chazz: less so.
Oh, he tries to protest, grumbling that he’s pretty enough as it is, he doesn’t need girly-girl makeup, why does Jimmy hate him so much, what did he ever do to deserve getting turned into a drag queen? Jimmy tells him to hush up, he will not get turned into a drag queen, and if he doesn’t sit still Jimmy will shave off all his hair at night don’t think he won’t. Chazz wibbles. Jimmy goes B| and continues about his work. He’s just going to make Chazz even more pretty, and no, he promises not to use anything sparkly or pink. Even though the idea of Chazz in a sparkly pink outfit makes him giggle ominously.
Hold still, Jimmy tells him over and over, lightly whapping him when he squirms under the attack of brushes and eyeliner and colors. Not bright colors, true, more subdued and subtle and earthy-fleshy tones, but color just the same. Chazz whines at the eyeliner, though stops when Jimmy threatens to accidentally miss with the pencil and poke his eye out.
Hey hey hey, no need for violence, Chazz just doesn’t want to look like an emo kid.
He won’t look like an emo kid. He’ll look pretty. Please trust him?
Fine. And the beatings beautifications continue.
After hours and hours of torturous preening, Jimmy finally takes a step back and admires his handiwork. Chazz glares at him, but the look fades as Jimmy’s face takes on a strange expression. Oh great what’d he do, mess up? Chazz looks like some goddammed drag queen, doesn’t he? That’s it, he’s going to jump in the shower right now-
Jimmy grabs his arm. Stop. Turn around, look in the mirror, Chazz.
Chazz does. He looks…
Well, he’s speechless. His eyes smolder, gems of dark blue fire burning beneath smoky eyeshadow- and no, it doesn’t look emo, it looks hella sexy. His cheeks have blush, but Jimmy’s made it look less like makeup and more like he’s spent time out in the sun. (Natural looking but unrealistic: when he tells Jimmy no one will believe Chazz ever got a suntan, Jimmy just rolls his eyes and tells him to enjoy the view.) Chazz never really thought about his cheekbones before, but apparently Jimmy had. The final touch, so sheer it almost isn’t there, are lips that are shiny and thankfully lip-colored (ie: not fire truck red!), full and moist and gah he just wants to make out with his reflection right now. He tells Jimmy this in a very dazed voice, almost unable to comprehend this person standing in front of him is him. Reverently, as he slides arms around his partner, Jimmy tells Chazz that he’s so, so beautiful.
And Chazz thinks, maybe it’s a good thing to let Jimmy get his way sometimes.