Bones

The smile on Nick’s face could easily be mistaken for one of the shit eating genre, but really it’s not. (Really.) His lips stretch as wide as they can, making his cheeks chubbier than normal, showing off the light dimples that rest on his face. He’s carrying a box, heavy with the weight inside shifting every few seconds. Nick thought this was a good idea – a fantastic one.

At the time, anyways.

It’s one of those spur of the moment deals. Nick’s an impulse buyer, he is, but sometimes poverty overrides impulse.

It’s an acquisition high, this little splurge, all $25 of it.

Because serving little old ladies their morning coffee and cakes doesn’t pay much. He doesn’t really understand it, the way the old bats tip. Of course, he understands part of it, working lunches never amounts to much tips. But even after he pulls out all his little tricks, usually the flirt and clench your butt cheeks as you walk away kind, no matter how close the woman’s breasts are to her knees, he always flirts. Always, always, always. That’s the first (unspoken) rule of serving. Use your gender to your advantage. Women have it easier that way; the girls he works with always make twice what he does, but they have the advantage of having these odd, water balloon like devices attached to their chests. And while Nick rather likes breasts, he doesn’t like the perks girls get from having them. This might sound like some kind of pro-misogynist, anti-feminism bullshit, but really, Nick’s just being selfish here.

Nick makes it to the third floor of the building, with the box’s weight tilting every few seconds. He tries to fish for his keys while keeping one hand on top of the box while simultaneously holding it as well, but well, Nick only has two hands. Instead, he does the simpler thing, and knocks on the door. A few seconds pass, with the happy nervousness of what Jamie will think of his little surprise before the door opens and the aforementioned boy-thing peeks through the crack. The door closes quickly and Nick can hear the deadbolt slide, and the door pops open once again.

He glances at Jamie, taking in his appearance. He’s been different lately, Nick thinks. Not healthy, nothing that drastic - he can still trace the veins in Jamie’s wrists, see the tendons standing of their own accord - not eating like a normal human being or anything crazy like that. But there’s something in his eyes, and Nick’s not sure if it’s good or bad. Automatically, Nick tries to calculate the last time he saw Jamie eat something. He made breakfast for them both a couple days ago, but Jamie split it up like he always does. One fourth of each thing on his plate; Nick’s tried to trick him before, giving him smaller portions to see if he’d eat all of it, but he would just divide it into fourths again. That was Tuesday, today’s Thursday. Internally he sighs, a little bit of the high fading.

Nick isn’t good with people, he’s not really good with words either, so when he wants to apologize for something he’ll cook or draw or make some other little gesture instead. He could tell that brining Macy over had upset Jamie, he just didn’t know why. That was one of the few times he’d seen Jamie voluntarily leave the apartment, and being the anti-social homebody that Jamie is, it was quite a large sign that he’d done Something.

“Hello,” Nick announces happily as he kicks the door shut behind him.

Jamie’s just lit a cigarette, squinting and blinking at Nick from behind the smoke that blows into his eyes. “Hi,” he says as he exhales, the rough tinge of inhalation in his voice. Jamie glances at the box in Nick’s arms, a look of confusion crosses his face as the other man keeps shifting it. “What’s in the box?”

Nick laughs a little inside, knowing the reference wasn’t intentional, because there’s certainly not a severed head in the box. No way.

“A surprise.” Nick smiles at Jamie, motioning for him to come over to the dining table with him, which really isn’t actually much of a dining table as opposed to an incredibly convenient place to set shit when he comes home. “Are you ready?” He asks, setting the box down on the table. Jamie shifts a little uncomfortably, ashing his cigarette on the tray sitting on the table, and nods slightly.

Nick turns his back to him, because that’s what you when you have a surprise. He opens it up, smiling sweetly down at the contents. Big honey yellow eyes stare back at him, and he slowly lifts the large ball of black and white fur from the box. He turns, cradling the cat in his arms while simultaneously scratching her behind the ears. Jamie’s eyes get a little wider, and for a moment Nick thinks he looks like he’s about the drop the cigarette.

“This is Nilla. One of the girls at work was moving and she had to get rid of her. Pets aren't allowed at her new apartment.” Nick smiles again, seeing the almost stunned look on Jamie’s face. “I couldn’t pass her up, y’know?”

Nilla isn’t a terribly pretty cat. She’s black and white, with light brown patches blending with the black and sometimes occupying their own spots on her chubby body. When she meows the sound cracks and is almost silent, if even audible at all. But she’s soft, and loyal, and Nick knows she’s the kind of cat that’ll sleep between Jamie’s legs and keep him warm.

“Happy early birthday, Jamie,” Nick says, handing the cat over to Jamie who quickly stubs out what’s left of his cigarette and eagerly takes her. He might not look it, but Jamie is ecstatic. The feeling that floods him can’t be described with words, colors maybe, but never words.

Jamie holds Nilla softly, cradling her like Nick was doing before him. He can feel her purring, and it makes that organ in his chest happy.

“I though she kinda looked like the cat your mum used to have.” Nick shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing at the ground a moment. In the few seconds he’s looking down, he misses Jamie mouth the nearly forgotten animal’s name with a tinge of fondness and a happy twitch of his lips that fades as soon as Nick glances back up. “Plus I thought she’d be nice company for you when I’m not here.”

Jamie sets Nilla down softly, allowing her to explore her new home. Jamie watches her as she slowly stalks away, stopping every so often to sniff around until she disappears into another room.

And before Jamie really thinks about what he’s doing he closes the distance between he and Nick, hugging him tightly. Strong arms return the embrace, and it’s the kind that makes you happy because you know that you’re loved, you’re safe, and nothing in the world can touch you in that short moment.

As Jamie pulls away, he pecks Nick on the side of his mouth, and mumbles a soft “Thank you,” before pulling away, and Nick swears he sees the traces of an honest to God smile on Jamie’s lips.