"I don't know, it's nice. I dig it." James smiled and then pulled away from Hartley so he could drop down slowly and at his own face. He winced a little and then shrugged off his coat, tossing it aside and gently lying himself back. He tugged up his shirt and looked at the wound, it wasn't that deep and a lot of the blood now was drying. He just needed it sorted before it got any worse. Or, God forbid, infected. He so couldn't afford medical bills right now, he could barely afford food. He needed to line up some new jobs.
"I'm sorry." James looked up at Hartley and shrugged ever so slightly, not able to move his body much. "I know I shouldn't have dumped this on you but I figured you'd be nearby. I didn't know what else to do."
"That's the sort of thing you apologize for? Almost dying?" Hartley rolled his eyes and walked into the bathroom, retrieving the first aid kit he had and kneeling down next to James. "Don't be an idiot. I'd not want you to be hurt. Not ever."
He pulled James' shirt up again, careful not to hurt him more. "I need to use the disinfectant. Sorry." That said, he sprayed it on, knowing that he had to do that to avoid any risk of infection. "I'll stitch you up. Just... Try to hold still. I've done stuff like this before."
"Oh God, this is gonna hurt. It's gonna hurt." James sucked in a breath and then gritted his teeth, laughing in place of crying out so he didn't upset Hartley so much. "Totally hurt. Whatever. I'm not a baby, I can take it." With a playful smile, he looked down and watched as the wound was cleaned, knowing that he just had to trust Hartley at this point. Usually he got things right, it had to work out.
"I'm bad at saying sorry. I usually have to be dying to say it, I guess. I'm not very good at saying it. I can say a billion and one words but when it comes to sorry, it just gets stuck. You know?" James caught Hartley's eyes and smiled sadly. "I usually am though. Sorry. I always fuck up."
"I don't think you spend much time being sorry. You spend a lot more time distracting yourself so you don't have to think about it." Hartley looked away so he could focus on the wound, reaching for the needle and managing to get the thread in deftly. At least he did have a delicate touch. Whether he could use that to stitch a person back up, he didn't know about that.
"Lie down, James, all right?" His voice was gentle, he just needed him to be as still as possible.
"I don't like bad feelings. When I get bad feelings, I ignore them until they go away." Which was childish and dumb but he didn't like to deal with them. When Hartley and he kissed, he felt so much love and wanting in him. And it terrified him. He had no idea what to do with the fear and so he did what he always did. He pushed him away. And he still regretted it. "Some don't. No matter how I try or how much I want to just ignore them."
He lay back but reached up one hand to idly playing with Hartley's hair as he stitched him up. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I was a dick. Can we be friends again? I miss you a lot."
"I think you don't much care for good feelings either. Nothing with depth. That's why you keep smiling at everyone and why everyone wants to be your friend." Hartley might spend a bit too much time analysing James, but at least he definitely knew him. Nobody could deny that. "Seems like it's just a different way of being lonely."
He knew a lot about that. Loneliness. Hartley started on the stitches, focusing so much he was barely aware of the hand in his hair. "No more kissing." Seemed like a simple rule.
"It's so weird sometimes. To be surrounded by all these people and be so completely alone." James laughed a little and put on that same smile, not letting Hartley's words make him at all self conscious. He was lonely and he didn't know how to truly connect, letting people in wasn't easy for James and more often than not, he just ended up regretting everything. "I like it when I'm with you. You make it all feel more alive."
And he was the idiot who fucked up what they could have had. He supposed he had to live with it now. "Of course, no kissing. You have a boyfriend now and all."
"I do have a boyfriend." And, no, he didn't want to talk about how he was apparently special to James, how he made it feel alive, any of those sentiments that made his chest oddly tight and that made him wish that James would just want him, would want him to be his and would let Hartley have him. It was a stupid thought and, hell, it almost felt like cheating. He did have a boyfriend and he was rather intent on it staying that way. "He's good to me, you know? I know I got defensive. But he is."
"I know. He's good for you and I'm happy. I will meet him one day but I swear, I'll be on my best behaviour." With a playful laugh, he looked down at Hartley's handiwork as he finished the stitch, reaching down to very carefully pull the skin to get a good look. "Now there is some fine craftmanship. Hartley, you're so fucking talented. Is there anything you can't do?" Grinning, he let his hand drop and put it in his own head, ruffling his hair. "I was very brave, Hart. Didn't cry or anything. Do I get a lolly?"
"Axel's met him. Axel likes him." Which wasn't saying much, since being a somewhat attractive guy pretty much guaranteed anyone some degree of 'liking' on Axel's part, but still. Hartley looked down at the wound and shrugged, blushing in spite of himself. "Plenty of things I can't do."
He cleared his throat and got up, heading for his kitchenette. "I don't have a lolly. I have a pop-tart." He didn't have the best diet, but whatever. "Want one?"
"Axel likes anyone who's vaguely hot. That's not much of an accomplishment." James didn't rank anything much by what Axel said, it was more how Axel acted that James took note of. Like how he was with Hartley. He could tell that unlike most he flirted with, he did really like him. It was pretty funny actually. Of course when James playfully called dibs in their hypothetical talk of one of them dating Hartley, Axel had backed off a little.
"Oooh yes! Frosted or not? Cause I want frosted. Oh! Chocolate or strawberry? I want chocolate. I'm in a chocolate mood." He loved pop tarts so much, he could eat them all day.
"True, but that means my boyfriend is vaguely hot. Who'd have thought, I can totally score." Hartley smirked and walked back to James, pop tart in his hand, just as James had ordered. He handed it over to him and knelt down on the mattress, watching him for any signs of fainting or whatever else he was supposed to look out for. He supposed something that would push up his blood sugar would be a good idea.
He leaned over James so he could move his flute case and notes to the side, giving James more space to properly lie down. "You're staying here, just so you know."
"You got game, Hart. I'll give you that." He took the pop tart and held it in his mouth for safe keeping before reaching out and grabbing a hold of Hartley's shirt, trying to tell him to lie with him with a mouthful of delicious pop tart. God he wanted to bite into it but if he did, it'd fall out of his mouth but he needed to talk to Hartley too so eating right now would impede tat. Sigh. He finally raised his hand and removed the pop tart, holding it at a safe distance.
"Lie with me. You can lie with me, can't you? I'm all injured and hurt. You have to comfort me." He patted the bed beside him before shoving the poptart back into his mouth and mumbling something around it.
"Yeah, that's me. So smooth." Not at all with a slight tendency to babble. But he supposed it could be worse. Hartley lied down next to James without even saying another word. He'd lose if he tried to argue, so he just stretched out behind him and start petting his hair, trying not to look at his face and focus too much at how James just happened to be objectively gorgeous. Not fair. So not fair.
Why did the first guy he had to really fall for have to be like... Like this?
Once the pop tart was eaten, James moved around until he was comfortable, sprawled out with his head in a good petting position. He closed his eyes and smiled softly, nuzzling against him a little. "I'm gonna pass out now, don't freak. I won't die." He let himself slip into a more relax position and yawned tiredly, not really with it. "Notte, sogni d'oro." And with that, he was out like a light.
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"I'm sorry." James looked up at Hartley and shrugged ever so slightly, not able to move his body much. "I know I shouldn't have dumped this on you but I figured you'd be nearby. I didn't know what else to do."
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He pulled James' shirt up again, careful not to hurt him more. "I need to use the disinfectant. Sorry." That said, he sprayed it on, knowing that he had to do that to avoid any risk of infection. "I'll stitch you up. Just... Try to hold still. I've done stuff like this before."
More or less.
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"I'm bad at saying sorry. I usually have to be dying to say it, I guess. I'm not very good at saying it. I can say a billion and one words but when it comes to sorry, it just gets stuck. You know?" James caught Hartley's eyes and smiled sadly. "I usually am though. Sorry. I always fuck up."
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"Lie down, James, all right?" His voice was gentle, he just needed him to be as still as possible.
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He lay back but reached up one hand to idly playing with Hartley's hair as he stitched him up. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I was a dick. Can we be friends again? I miss you a lot."
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He knew a lot about that. Loneliness. Hartley started on the stitches, focusing so much he was barely aware of the hand in his hair. "No more kissing." Seemed like a simple rule.
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And he was the idiot who fucked up what they could have had. He supposed he had to live with it now. "Of course, no kissing. You have a boyfriend now and all."
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He cleared his throat and got up, heading for his kitchenette. "I don't have a lolly. I have a pop-tart." He didn't have the best diet, but whatever. "Want one?"
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"Oooh yes! Frosted or not? Cause I want frosted. Oh! Chocolate or strawberry? I want chocolate. I'm in a chocolate mood." He loved pop tarts so much, he could eat them all day.
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He leaned over James so he could move his flute case and notes to the side, giving James more space to properly lie down. "You're staying here, just so you know."
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"Lie with me. You can lie with me, can't you? I'm all injured and hurt. You have to comfort me." He patted the bed beside him before shoving the poptart back into his mouth and mumbling something around it.
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Why did the first guy he had to really fall for have to be like... Like this?
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