The first time that Jimmy kissed Thomas was indisputably bizarre- but for a moment Jimmy felt like he had the reins of the situation firmly in hand. Then Thomas, operating on some set of rules that Jimmy certainly and emphatically had not approved, decided to kiss him back.
It was one thing to stand still compliantly while a fellow put his mouth to your lips- that was the correct course of action, and Thomas had demonstrated his mannered qualities for a few long seconds, keeping himself perfectly motionless. It was another matter entirely to open your own mouth in return. It was another bloody thing entirely to use your tongue. Thomas had done all of these things, for a moment- an awful, frightening, heart-dropping, jaw-clenching moment- and then Jimmy had stepped back- wiped his mouth with the heel of his left hand- rolled his hand into a fist- and socked Thomas in the eye.
Afterwards Jimmy had apologized profusely, and stammered out a lot of mad nonsense that he didn't mean- such gems as:
"I've always been this way, Thomas, I- I just didn't know-"
And:
"I love you so but I'm just so damned nervous-"
And the flawless center-cut diamond on the crown of Jimmy's stupidity:
"I've never- never done that before. With anyone. I've never even felt like this about anyone. I dream about you. I think about you. I wait to see you. I need you."
So Jimmy had effectively sacrificed his dignity in order to keep Thomas from being angry at him. Lovely, just lovely, Jimmy thought, as he sat in his bedroom, mourning the tattered shreds of his self-respect.
Still all the placating and apologies in the world did not keep Thomas from sporting a lovely plum-colored black eye at breakfast the next morning. When Carson asked him about it, quite ominously, Thomas had dropped his gaze to the table and confessed to fighting, in an undertone.
Oh, shite, Jimmy thought. He's going to get into trouble because of me.
"I am sorry, Mr. Carson," Thomas said, tightly, holding an unlit cigarette with one downturned hand. "I know I shouldn't get into it with the villagers. But if they speak ill of the family who supports them an' their whole town, I just find- I find it upsets me."
Oh, good lie, Jimmy thought. You're so smart.
And so Thomas had only gotten the mildest form of chastisement from Carson.
"That was clever," Jimmy said to him, that evening, and Thomas rolled his eyes- well, one eye, the other was decidedly swollen.
Thomas had shaken off Jimmy's grasp when Jimmy tried to drag Thomas into his own room. "No," Thomas said, looking at the room as though it was a portal into Dante's version of Hell.
"Yes," Jimmy said. "I won't hit you again," he added, through his teeth, pitching his voice low in case anyone could hear them. "I was drunk last night."
"You were sober, Jimmy," Thomas whispered back, not moving. Thomas's cheeks were red- Jimmy guessed it was because of their clasped hands. "You were completely sober."
"Well," Jimmy said. "I felt drunk."
"How reassuring," Thomas said- but for some reason he followed Jimmy into the room anyways.
"Just one kiss," Jimmy said, quietly, when the door was closed. "I won't hit you. If you promise not to move your bloody face."
"If I move my bloody face my face gets bloodied," Thomas said, somberly. "Right."
"Hah. Exactly," Jimmy said, and took a step towards Thomas so that Thomas was forced to back into a wall. Jimmy felt his heart speed up a little at his own boldness. Remember not to hit him, Jimmy told himself. Especially if you start to, ah, like it.
He had liked it well enough to hit Thomas the first time. Well, then try not to like it so much, idiot, Jimmy thought, firmly, and pressed into Thomas's space.
"You're warm," Jimmy said, and tilted his face up a little, studying Thomas's taut jaw and the angles of his face- and his impressively awful-looking bruise.
Thomas inhaled through his nose, and Jimmy heard the secret shakiness of Thomas's breathing. "Remember to hold still, won't you?" Jimmy asked- very seriously- and Thomas nodded, his mouth stretching into a straight line.
"Good," Jimmy said.
"If you hit me again I'll hit you back," Thomas said, rather unconvincingly, and his eyes flickered shut for a moment when Jimmy traced a finger along his lips.
"Like hell," Jimmy scoffed- but he had a catch in his own voice- and he withdrew his finger and leaned forward and up a few centimeters, to press his lips to the place the pad of his index finger had been.
Thomas held himself, unmoving- and Jimmy pushed their lips more firmly together. "Mm," he said, frustrated, after a long moment of pressing his mouth to Thomas's unmoving one. "Mmm. Your mouth."
"Ah- w-what?" Thomas asked, his eyes flying back open. The blush had crept from his cheeks all the way down under the collar of his shirt, and Jimmy had a sudden urge to see how far down the color extended.
Well, I'd probably hit him if we tried to do that, Jimmy thought, unhappily. Perhaps we'll work up to it.
"Move your mouth a little, would you?" Jimmy asked Thomas, who blinked rapidly, and then shook his dark head emphatically no. "No," Thomas said, after that, as if to underline his point. "I only have two eyes."
"Just a little," Jimmy said, insistently, and Thomas sighed, but stood there, turning his face down.
"I won't hit you," Jimmy said, in his most reassuring tones, and Thomas snorted. "I'm not much convinced," Thomas said.
"You like this, don't you," Jimmy said, in response, and kissed Thomas soundly, pinching his arm when Thomas did not respond immediately.
After a long pause Jimmy felt an answering pressure- Thomas's lips against his own- and for a moment his heart skipped a frightened beat, and his hands began to curl into fists-
No, you're not ruining things again, Jimmy told his own idiot brain, firmly unclenching his hands. There seemed to be nothing else to do with them besides bring them up to Thomas's shoulders, and so Jimmy did- and it allowed him to lean more against Thomas, and get their faces closer together- and deepen the kiss-
"Hn," Thomas said- a little noise, nothing else- when Jimmy leaned against him- but for some reason it made Jimmy's stomach twist painfully, and his body feel heavy- and he parted his lips against Thomas's, moving against him, taking shallow breaths, feeling-
"Ah," Jimmy said, and took two stumbling steps backwards. Thomas was still pressed up against the wall. His one working eye looked at Jimmy warily.
"I think I'm going to hit you again if we keep doing that," Jimmy said, his voice coming out ragged and uneven. Unsteadily he raked a hand through his own hair, trying to calm the wild beating of his heart.
"I would ask if hitting was a euphemism in this instance," Thomas said, tightly- "except you've already hit me. Literally."
"Mmm," Jimmy said, and slumped down on the bed. "Yeah. I have to- I have to have you go. Now. So that I can- ah, I mean- so that I can- go to sleep. Yes."
Thomas nodded, adjusting his jacket, and looking over at Jimmy in a way that made him shiver. "Ah. Alright."
"But Thomas-" Jimmy said, as Thomas, still looking quite dazed- put his hand on the knob of the door.
"Yes," Thomas said, as if confirming his own existence.
"We're doing this again tomorrow."
"Ah," Thomas said, his one useful eye widening. "You're going to bloody kill me."
"Maybe," Jimmy said- but he gave Thomas a sweet smile- and after a second Thomas returned it- before he pulled open the door, and walked elegantly out.