12. Picture Perfect

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This chapter is pure fluff all the way through. Zero plot. Absolutely nothing important. You have been warned. Enjoy the gay.

Also, this chapter is abnormally long, and the next one is shorter than usual, sorry about that. I had to do a lot of cutting and pasting to get a third update in over winter break (knowing very well that my schedule would go to shit again once school started).

Neta, I'm pretty sure there's a reference here somewhere, but I'm not even mad if you don't see it bc I honestly don't even know where/what it is anymore.

We pick up exactly where we left off last chapter :)

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Jamie was wiping at his eyes as he leaned back. Still laughing softy, he said, "Only you, Liam."

"Only for you, Jamie," I sang, because the opportunity was too good to not say something corny.

"How sweet," he droned playfully. "Name a more romantic gesture. I'll wait."

Snickering, I said, "I am pretty good, huh?" I made a rather unceremonious show of tossing the cake container onto the coffee table and falling back into the couch with a heavy, exaggerated sigh. "God, being the best is so draining."

"Oh I'm sure," Jamie teased, opting to sit next to me. I didn't miss the way his body still sank back into the couch with exhaustion, or the way his expression seemed to ease with relief at not having to hold up his own weight anymore.

"How're you feeling?" I asked, turning my cheek against the cushion to look at him.

"Like I got run over by a bus," he admitted. "But when the bus passed, a cute boy brought me flowers and graphic desserts, so it's all good."

I knew that it wasn't all good. I knew that he was pretending -- or at least, he was trying to ignore his discomfort and focus on being happy. I worried that that would just make things worse.

"Why don't we watch a movie?" I suggested, because I wanted him to rest and not worry about displaying happy. I had a feeling he knew what I was doing, and when he nodded, I saw gratitude in his subdued smile. "Any one you want."

"Do you think Stevie has Call Me By Your Name?"

"What's it about?"

"Gay shit."

"Oh yeah," I said, grinning. Knowing Stevie -- literally the biggest fag-hag I'd ever met -- she would have it.

No surprise, it took me about half a second to find the Blu-Ray in her alphabetically-ordered shelf. I settled back onto the couch, draping an arm lazily around Jamie's shoulders, and the movie began.

I wasn't really sure what was happening at first. The plot had just begun to make sense when I heard a small groan from Jamie and turned to see him with his forehead against my shoulder, eyes shut tight. Before I could even ask, he seemed to feel the question behind my lips, and he muttered the words, "Craving. Really bad. It . . . it fucking hurts."

I couldn't wish it away. I couldn't offer him painkillers to make it better. But I could pull him further into my side and press my nose to the top of his head. I could run my hand up and down his arm and carry his weight as he leaned heavily into me. I could whisper meaningless, comforting things into his hair. It wasn't much, but it was all I could do.

I couldn't fix it. I could only do my best to make it easier. I could only be there.

"Your sister," I said absentmindedly, for no reason but to distract him. "Her favorite flower is a daisy."

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