Seated at the wooden butcher block table, David studied the clean lines of Jamie's back through his fitted grey t-shirt as the man stood at the stove stirring a boiling pot of pasta noodles. The scene almost mirrored his demented daydream. It made his chest ache that he couldn't really wrap his arms around Jamie and tenderly kiss the small patch of skin showing above the collar of his shirt.
The desire was so real that David felt he could literally feel the soft warm skin against his lips, the shaggy hair tickling his cheek as Jamie tipped his head back in encouragement. However, the odd sensation of adjusting his legs with their missing pieces brought him back to reality. There was no way he could physically perform that feat even if Jamie wouldn't punch his lights out.
Feeling eyes on him, Jamie muttered over his shoulder.
"You still haven't learned that it's rude to stare?"
David grinned.
"Nope," he answered smugly as Jamie shook his head in dismay.
"It's creepy, you know," he added, glancing back at the bald man.
At the mention of 'creepy', Jamie's eyes returned to the button up that David clutched possessively. It didn't appear that he would get that garment back anytime soon. If it kept him calm, it was a small price to pay.
David's fingers brushed the smooth black material of the shirt draped over his lap now, like a child's lovey. Bear curled by the table leg between the two men, ears perked for any fuckery. It was apparent he was not a fan of David.
Jamie turned back to the roiling water, the noodles bubbling in long, thick strings. At least this was meal that could feed several people; he wasn't used to feeding more than one person. He turned his attention to the red meat sauce warming next to the larger pot.
Almost ready, thank God. He was famished and if he could convince David to actually eat something, maybe he would settle down and sleep instead of going off the deep end. Even though he knew it didn't work like that, he still hoped he wouldn't have to tackle the raging amputee his first night out here. Jamie again patted the vial in his pocket nervously.
So far, David had been mostly quiet. Besides his childish staring, he hadn't really done anything nefarious. Yet, Jamie reminded himself. The man knew how to play the long game too. Trying to sleep was sure to be difficult, knowing this crazy ass was in the same residence and crazier than the last time he seen him on the Spectrum.
Carefully, Jamie poured off the boiling water, the steam billowing up in his face. His stomach growled in response.
'Ok, ok, ok, I'm hurrying,' he scolded the offending organ.
He prepared two bowels with noodles and spaghetti sauce, curious to see if David would eat or if he was just talking shit earlier.
At the sight of the dinner, David's eyes widened, and he appeared interested.
"Here," Jamie offered, gingerly sliding the bowl across the tabletop. "Poison and drug-free as promised."
To his surprise, David ravenously tucked into the bowl of pasta, not seeming to care that it was still pretty hot to the touch. Jamie raised a brow, watching the display. That was unexpected, to say the least. He was still tensed in case David suddenly hurled the bowl at him as he was apparently prone to doing in the facility.
"I take it you approve?" he ventured, twirling up a thick bite of noodles with his fork.
"It's as good as your mom made it," David answered, slurping a noodle between his lips. "Do you have that memory, Jamie? When I came to Jason's house, wrecked my bike, and was invited in for dinner?"
Staring into the mass of pasta and thick red sauce, a ghost of a memory stroked his mind. Slowly, Jamie nodded.
"Yes, I can remember that," he answered. "I remember you chowed down like you're doing now."
His dark eye glistened with a touch of sadness before he shoved it down.
"I don't expect that my mom is still alive, is she? Or my dad? Any of my family?" he asked, knowing he was starting down a dangerous path but unable to help the question.
David's fork lowered back his bowl as he considered what Jamie wanted to know.
"I didn't execute them, if that's what you're wondering. Where they went, I have no idea but its most likely they aren't living," he answered carefully, watching the muscles in Jamie's face.
If ever there was a time, Red, might jump out, it was now. This emotionally charged conversation could only go badly even with David not knowing the fate of his companion's parents.
"You really didn't execute them?" Jamie whispered. "That's what I always thought you did because you told Jason he no longer existed. You destroyed his identification, photographs, things that he held dear. So, I just assumed family was included."
No longer as hungry as before, the man pushed his bowl aside and propped his elbows on the table. One hand pushed his glasses to sit atop his head so he could rub his eyes, which were growing moist. Jamie wished he hadn't opened this can of worms right now; he was still too tender after the stress of this hellish day.
"No, they were long in hiding before I even gave them a thought. I was too preoccupied with you in those early days," David tried to soothe.
He too remembered the kind Mrs. Scott inviting the pitiful teenage Tommy into her home, offering him a place at the table, and treating him like an actual human, not a worthless piece of shit. Jason's dad had also been an attentive presence at the table. Tommy had wished he had parents as caring and devoted as the Scotts.
Instead he had been saddled with the Oliver's and their chronic domestic issues. How had Tommy managed to escape his fate and became an actual hero? It still rankled him that he was the only one to run back to Rita.
"I'm not hungry anymore," Jamie forced out, shoving back from the table. "I'll get you a bed ready. I don't even know how I'm going to arrange this. Because you definitely aren't sharing a bed with me, before you even suggest it."
He had exited the kitchen before David could comment. Bear glared at David reproachfully.
"Hey, I just answered his question," he spat at the accusing eyes. "Don't give me that look."
The dog seemed to huff a long-suffering sigh and laid his head on the floor, still eyeing the man in his peripheral vision. David tapped the end of the floor on the tabletop in annoyance. Why did Jamie have to keep bringing shit up anyways?
A short time later, Jamie returned to the kitchen. His face showed no trace of sadness or anger or any emotion at all. But it was still obvious from his reddened eye that he had cried. David had the good sense this time not to open his mouth about it. Besides risking getting chewed up by Red, he felt a pang of genuine guilt at knowing he'd hurt Jamie. Without even meaning to this time.
Bizarre, as he'd never gave two fucks about hurting another person before. Hell, he'd hurt Jamie way more severely than this and laughed the whole damn time while his prey screamed and bled. He frowned; that wasn't quite accurate. He'd hurt Jason and Red.
This was getting tricky keeping these personalities separate. But they were distinct people in a way, very different from each other.
"Alright, I've got a bed set up that I can sleep in. It'll be easier for me to help you if you're up higher in my bed," he said flatly.
"I'm sleeping in your bed?" he repeated, not sure if he heard that correctly.
"Yes," Jamie answered. "I've got a place for me to lay down. You know I've slept in worse conditions."
David decided to just let that comment go. Jamie didn't appear to be feeling so hot right now. It was useless but he wished he knew a way to make Jamie smile again.
"Are you finished?" the other man asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm done," David answered. "I can help you clean up if you want."
Jamie just stared at him for a moment.
"Huh?" he stammered, blinking rapidly. "You're offering to help me? Why?"
Now he looked suspicious. He seemed to be waiting for David to do something and was confused because he wasn't do it. One hand kept going to his left pocket where the obsidian stone lay along with a long, unfamiliar shape.
"What?" David shrugged. "What fuckery can I get up to drying washing or drying dishes?"
Jamie rolled his eyes.
"I can think of at least ten different scenarios, including breaking glass and cutting me or stabbing me with a fork. Just a few examples," he snarked.
"I could have lunged over the table and done that earlier," David pointed out. "And I'm sure the darling new Fox Ranger could wrestle a weapon away from me. I looked out and saw your beautiful new suit, by the way."
"Whatever," Jamie muttered, unlocking the chair and pushing the man closer to the sink. "Don't make me break your hand. You can live with fractured bones. As you demonstrated to me in your dungeon."
Jamie was clearly in a mood and fixating on their prior relationship. It was obvious he was going to be touchy tonight. Fortunately, being well versed in psych and behavior management, David decided to redirect the other man's attention to something less distressing.
"So," he began as Jamie started filling a sink of hot sudsy water. "Please enlighten me as to how Jasper's previous owners didn't notice a missing appendage that a male animal would usually possess."
Jamie stared at him again as the sink continued to fill.
"What?" he frowned, lifting a brow.
"His dick, Jamie. How did they not notice a lack of dick under that bleating creature?"
Somehow, the bizarre, off the wall question had the intended effect. As the pair cleaned up the dinner dishes, Jamie regaled David with how he came to own the bossy little asshole in the goat pen. It was good to see the spark come back and hear Jamie's soft chuckle as he stood with his hands buried amongst the soapy dishes.
He looked so beautiful without realizing it as his smile lit up his whole face when he got to the part of the story where his puzzled expression stumped Jasper's previous owners as they bragged about their prize billy goat.
And it was this exact experience that David had always wanted, had daydreamed about. To forget their origins and pretend this was their shared life. Jamie absently passed a bowl to David for drying; without thinking about the consequences, he tenderly brushed his thumb across the back of Jamie's wet hand.
Jamie didn't immediately pull away, oddly. He froze, looking down at the hand caressing his own.
"Why are you doing that?" he asked softly. "Don't forget we aren't playing house, David."
"I know," David responded, sadly pulling his fingers from Jamie's. "I just… I don't know."
Swallowing painfully, Jamie looked into the other man's eyes.
"You know if you had given Jason a chance all those years ago, you might have been surprised by his reaction if you'd asked him out."
He pulled the drain in the sink quickly and dried his hands.
"Just for the record."