Theo's apartment was small, the kind of space built for one person who didn't expect company. Sparse furniture. Clean, but lived-in. A record player sat in the corner next to a pile of old vinyls, and a floor lamp cast a soft gold glow over everything.
Jamie stood just inside the door, dripping from the walk in the rain, his curls darker now, jacket slung over his shoulder.
Theo had hesitated when Jamie asked to come over—not because he didn't want it, but because he wanted it too much.
"You can leave your boots there," Theo said, his voice quiet as he toed off his own shoes. "There's a towel in the bathroom if you want to dry off."
Jamie nodded, eyes flicking around the apartment like he was seeing something important. "This place feels like you," he said softly.
Theo arched a brow. "That good or bad?"
Jamie smiled. "Good. Comfortable. Like you think about where light hits a room."
Theo looked away, his cheeks warming. No one had ever noticed things like that.
Jamie reappeared a few minutes later, curls damp but towel-slapped dry, wearing his black t-shirt again, a little wrinkled from being under his jacket. He looked tired but settled—like he belonged there. Theo wasn't sure what to do with that feeling.
They sat on the couch, close but not touching, the silence stretching—not awkward, but heavy. Weighty. Full of what hadn't been said yet.
Theo turned to look at him. "Why'd you come with me?"
Jamie leaned back slightly, resting his arm on the couch behind Theo. Not touching, but close. "Because you didn't try to be anything you're not. You didn't play some part. You just… were."
"I didn't say much."
"You didn't have to."
Theo exhaled. His chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the way Jamie looked at him—like he mattered. Like he was enough, even in silence.
Jamie's fingers brushed against the back of Theo's neck, featherlight. A test. A question.
Theo didn't pull away.
"You okay?" Jamie asked quietly.
"I don't know," Theo admitted. "But I want you to keep touching me."
Jamie moved in slowly, giving him time to stop it, to say no, but Theo didn't. He closed the space between them like the rest of the world had faded out. Their lips met—soft at first, cautious. Then deeper. Hungrier.
Theo's hand curled into Jamie's shirt, grounding himself, holding him there like he was afraid it might end too soon. Jamie's fingers slid up into his hair, gentle, steady. There was nothing rushed about it. Just breath and skin and the kind of warmth you forgot you were missing until someone handed it back to you.
When they pulled apart, Jamie rested his forehead against Theo's.
"I didn't come here expecting this," Jamie whispered.
Theo smiled faintly, thumb brushing Jamie's jaw. "Neither did I."
But they didn't let go.
And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt alone.