#bubblecat

   It’s late, and nothing good’s on. This is starting to be their time. They keep their head resting over her shoulder, not digging in, somehow a perfect fit for a half hour.    That half hour was almost up now, and Jamie needed to move around. Shift a little. They didn’t want to disrupt her while she was in a trance, but they had to.    The stirring wasn’t much. They shifted their torso around, tilted their head to a new position, and loosened up the hand holding with her. Nothing much, but enough to get her attention as she blinked the world back into focus.    “jamie?”    “yea, bee?”    “do you want to put something else on or should i just let Mr. Dolittle play?”    “let him play, he’s getting paid per views.”    “really?”    “i dunno. tv is confusing.”    Her voice is soft, almost melodic. The two of them are close to calling it a night, drifting off curled up on the couch.    Her skin is soft like her voice. Especially on the shoulders, where’d it’d normally be hard from a shoulder blade. But it’s not. Bee’s not built like that, and it’s wonderful.    She has some tiny moles there, dots of dark brown. Jamie knew their position by heart, but making new pathways amongst them, a highway on skin was fun.    With only a second’s forethought, Jamie tilts their head down to place gentle kisses on Bee’s shoulder. They get a noseful of what Bee smells like, what their clothes smell like at this point. What Bee’s home smells like, what follows Jamie home when they have to check back up on the place. It’s not a “nice” smell, not everyone smells like roses and perfumes, but it’s Bee’s smell.    Which makes it perfect.    They nuzzle into her neck after a second and let the sound of her breathing and internal rushing mute the TV.    It’s perfect.