[for Miguel - February 15th]
It's been a long time since Lennox has had any sort of romance in his life and while he's mostly okay with that -- mostly likes it, actually -- it's been so damn long that he didn't immediately question Miguel the night before when he got a little... well, mushy. At the time, it had seemed a little strange, but they'd been in the moment and after
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And it'd be even nicer without all the space between them on the bed; tossing an arm over Jim's middle, Miguel pulls him in while shifting over, meeting in the middle where he can press a sleepy kiss to Jim's shoulder. "Good morning," he mutters happily, "If it's even morning."
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"Did you, uh... sleep well?" he asks, because he can't very well ask why he's suddenly so affectionate. That's kind of rude.
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Well, maybe a little bit alone; it doesn't seem like Jim is in on the good mood this morning. "Are you okay," he asks, rolling over to peer at him. He doesn't really give Jim time to answer before leaning in to kiss him. Maybe he can pass on whatever's got him so relaxed, like a germ.
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"I'm good," he says when they part and he sort of means it now. Maybe he's just imagining that shit is weird. Maybe he's just gotten so used to being in this not-quite relationship that he doesn't know what to do when things get normal.
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"I have to go home," he says against Jim's lips, pressing their foreheads together and, god help him, nuzzling the guy like he's the stupid cat he has to go take care of. And instead of saying he'll be back later, he kisses him again, says, "You should come with me," like it's not completely out of left field, for them.
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"That... would be okay..." It's partly a question, partly a statement, but mostly he's agreeing to come. Even if there is something weird going on, he's going to be an asshole and take advantage of it. It's not like he's trying to stalk Miguel, he just wants to know where the guy lives.
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He doesn't know why that hurts, but he tries not to think about it. Jim is too nice to be like that, right? "I just thought, it's kind of shitty when I leave, but I can't stay either, and I like you." And now he's got this face on, like he needs Jim to like him back, which is completely stupid because of course he does, but he's acting so odd, like Miguel is doing something wrong when he's really trying not to.
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Weird or not, it still feels nice to be wanted. It feels nice to hear that Miguel likes him, even though he knows it.
"C'mon," he says, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of Miguel's mouth. "We'll go feed your cat."
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It's kind of like being manic, he thinks, like flipping the switch, only not as urgent or crazy. Maybe it's like being normal, no pills no switch no nothing, just feeling good all on his own. Because Jim is here and he loves him, and there's no more Oz and nothing to be depressed about, really.
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With anyone else, this might have been normal.
"Breakfast sounds good," he agrees, to cover the fact that he's just been staring. Swinging his legs off the bed, he grabs a pair of shorts and begins to dress. "Maybe we can just hang out today, too. Go to the rink for a bit, maybe take a swim." He's tempted to say something cheesy, like 'maybe lie out under the stars tonight', but he thinks that's too far. If there is nothing going on, Miguel will probably give him a dirty look for that one.
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So he's thinking about taking Jim's hand while they're walking to his place. Thinking about it hard, like it's eating up his insides, because it's a long walk and he just--he wants. He wants so much, from Jim and for Jim, that it's stupid to walk next to him like they're just friends. But something's holding him back, something's telling him it's weird, it's not something he usually does and Jim might not let him.
Which is what he's afraid of, right? "You got any smokes," he asks, casual as possible after sending Jim like a hundred glances. He needs something to do with his hands while he mulls this shit over.
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"Not even that," he admits sheepishly a second later, forgetting about the weirdness long enough to actually feel sort of bad. That's his job. Having pot is just what he does, he's been growing it for as long as he's been on the island and most everyone knows him for that, if nothing else.
"Besides, I feel like I should be telling you that it's too early for that shit," he says, nudging Miguel gently with his elbow, maybe leaning into him a little bit. He wants to see what happens, he wants to see if maybe he's just been imagining it or if his luck is going to keep up. Either way, it feels nice. It's something he hasn't wanted to think about, but it feels nice.
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He feels...good, still, but so fucking weird. Like even though he was an asshole yesterday, the way he is now isn't okay either, and he doesn't know why. Everything's so much better now. "I'm sorry about, you know, yesterday. We could've done something if you wanted."
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It's almost sad, but he doesn't feel it.
"It's okay," he says, shrugging it off. "We're doing something now, right?" And besides, it's not like Lennox has ever been big on Valentine's Day. It's just another day and he's okay with not being totally conventional.
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"At least they get along," he says finally, looking down at the cat licking the rabbit and he can't help but grin. Lucy would probably claw King's face off if he ever tried something like that and he's glad the dog knows better.
"Did someone else used to live here, too?" he asks, gesturing to the other bed. It's not jealousy that causes him to ask, but he wants to know. He briefly wonders if it was Shane, if she and Miguel used to share this place.
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