#jamicus

It had become habit for him, a ritual. Every night when he finally, finally, got out of work, he’d stand outside the grocery store and wish on a star. He even did it when clouds hid them, too used to saying the little rhyme every night.

 Maybe it was childish, silly, and desperate. Maybe he should just give it up, move on with his life. But he’d found it nearly impossible.

 He’d tried, oh he had tried. He attempted dating other people, but it never worked out. He liked them well enough, but there just wasn’t that…connection. There had to be more than just getting along with them. They would make good friends, despite how attractive he thought they may be, it was just a simple aesthetic attraction, admission they were cute, but nothing more. He tried to lie to himself, to tell him it was alright and he would fall in love with this one, but it always made him feel guilty, made him feel like he was only hurting his partners. So he always ended up breaking up with them with a bunch of apologies.

 Eventually he’d given up. There was no point in trying to date anybody anymore. None of them was him. The only one he’d ever wanted, and, quite possibly, the only one he would ever want. That was the way it was starting to seem. The only one for Jamie was Atticus.

 Star light, star bright

First star I see tonight,

I wish I may, I wish I might

James Thorne was slowly attempting to reinvent himself. Well, maybe not reinvent himself; after all, he still was the same old Jam Thorne he’d always been, though a few months older than he’d been when he’d been broken down for what he swore was the last time. But he couldn’t deny that he had changed somewhat, besides just in age. But it wasn’t easy, and though he wanted to be a new, better person, that was a bit of a hard thing to do when he still had the same old job he’d had, back to living at home, and still harboring the fear of his mother he’d had since a child.

A new start was what he needed. A new James, a new house, a new job. He only wished he could achieve those things. Still no luck on finding a job he actually wanted, so he was still stuck as a barista, though he had gotten a second job as a nighttime stocker. Partially to get more money to try and move out, partially because it meant less time spent at home, which means less contact with his mother. No, he wasn’t happy to have had to move back home, besides the circumstances in which he had to do so. That unspeakable name. The brunette couldn’t let himself think of him. If he thought of him, the shell he’d worked so hard on building up would crumble in a matter of seconds, and he’d worked too hard to let that happen.

“Excuse me? Can you tell me where to find cream of tartar?”

The voice brought Jamie out of his reverie as he looked towards it to find a young man looking a little frazzled (and a little like a lost puppy). A gentle smile crept upon his lips. “Yeah, I can show you.”

“Oh God, thank you. My sister needs it for a recipe and I can’t find it and….yeah,” The boy trailed off sheepishly. “Sorry for rambling. It’s a problem I have..”

Jamie chuckled softly. “It’s okay. I have that problem myself most of the time. Often admit way too much to strangers. But yeah. The cream of tartar is on aisle 5 with a lot of the other cooking stuff. Spices and whatnot.” He smiled softly to himself.

He'd known it was coming. He’d known it for a while. Jamie had just attempted to ignore it for as long as possible. He was happy; they were happy. Everything was fine. They were fine. It would be okay.

But he knew it wasn’t. Atticus had been pulling away again. It was just like before, but only worse. This time there were no legal issues or other hesitations. They were both consenting adults, there were in love. Yet he recognized the pattern of doubt that wrecked the older man. He attempted to hold it back, attempted to hide it from the younger. But it would be crazy for Jam not to notice; he noticed everything about his boyfriend. It was his job, especially as he was always trying to make him happy, and especially to alleviate the thoughts that tore him apart.

His heart sunk after those four little words. “We need to talk.” Thoughts raced through Jamie. He couldn’t do this to him. Not again. They had been going so well. Maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe it was something completely unrelated. Maybe it was his bad habit of not replacing the toilet paper on the holder when the roll was finished. Yeah, that had to be it. Something silly.

But he couldn’t bring himself to turn the light on in the dark room as he followed the elder, shaking slightly. He was stiff on the couch, sitting slightly away from Atticus, but still they touched. And he couldn’t help but lean forward into him, craving his touch as he always did. Still shaking, Jamie forced himself to keep from relaxing into him, from melting. He had to be resilient. He had to throw up that hard shell he’d previously been forced to create for himself, to protect himself emotionally. He had to shut himself off.

There they sat together for several moments. Each knowing what was going to happen, neither wanting to start. Jamie didn’t know if Atticus truly wanted this. He pleaded to himself, begging whatever higher power there may be to stop it, to prevent any of this. There was no one he wanted in the world other than the man in front of him. His breathe hitched slightly. He couldn’t think of that. As much as he loved, as much as he craved, Atticus, he had to be firm. Otherwise, he felt he might not survive this.

And yet tears still threatened to fall from his eyes at the stuttered words. His throat constricted as he forced them back; he shook a little bit harder. He closed his eyes, hyper aware of each point he and Atticus touched, memorizing that feeling, how much he enjoyed even the smallest touch. Jamie nearly broke at the stroke of the elder’s fingers on his neck, on that sensitive spot that always drove him crazy. He nearly threw it all away and pressed his lips on the other. But he didn’t. Biting his lip and balling his fist, he stood, not daring to look his boyfriend in the eye. He knew if he did, he would break, he would fall to his knees and beg Atticus to reconsider, that they were meant to be and he couldn’t do this again.

“I’m done with letting you break my heart over and over again.” It took all Jamie had to keep his voice steady, to not waver. He loved Atticus with everything he had, but he couldn’t keep doing this, this game of cat and mouse. It would kill him. The elder could either have him forever or not have him at all. He didn’t want to do this, he never had and never would actually want this. This was not what he ever would have chosen, not after falling in love with him all those years ago. Jam had wanted to be with him forever. But he’d already had enough shit in his life. He’d been broken physically and emotionally. He wasn’t about to be broken emotionally again, especially as he already knew it would be worse.

Still shaking, he walked to the front door, ignoring the pull of the bedroom—he knew he was on the brink of breakdown—he shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his keys. The door closed with a bit more force than was necessary without a look back, though he wanted to so badly.

Not a step was taken. His arms wrapped around his torso, he fell right there at the door, shaking hard as tears fell down his face, crying so hard barely a sound was made. He buried his head between his chest and his legs. Ignoring the looks he was given by other tenants in the apartment building, he was like that for a while, sobs wracking his body. Eventually he ran out of tears. He wiped the remnants of the salty liquid from his cheeks and steeled himself. Standing, he looked at the door and took a deep breath. Jam slowly, and quietly, opened the door. Atticus was still in the living room, with even breathing and soft snores. Asleep. He let out the breath he’d been holding.

It didn’t take him too long to remove his things. He wished it’d taken him longer, that Atticus would wake up and beg him to stay. That he could be the reluctant one for once. But it didn’t happen. All of his things, in his bags, were outside. Biting his lip, he dropped next to Atticus and kissed his cheek. “I love you. Forever and always,” he whispers to the dead air, trying, and failing, to hold back his final tears.

The graveyard shift. Jamie hated it. Sure, he was a night owl, but the monotony of standing around the register was killing him. There was only so much organizing of candy and whatnot that he could do, and most of the time, there were no customers. It was boring and he couldn't wait to get a new job. Especially as this one cut into his time with Atticus.

But six in the morning finally rolled around and he could leave. He had never been so glad to see the early morning before he started working at the grocery store.

A short drive later and he was fumbling to get his key in the lock of his apartment. Gods, he was exhausted. With a yawn, he finally managed to get the door open. 

Immediately, Jam kicked off his shoes and dropped his keys into the bowl on the shelf by the door. Oh, how he wanted to crawl into bed next to his boyfriend and enjoy the few minutes he'd have before the older had to get up for his job. Instead, he trudged to the kitchen, pulling out various bowls and utensils. 

He turned the waffle iron on, stifling another yawn, then opened the refrigerator door, blinking into the light that it gave off. He really hated that. Grabbing the ingredients he needed, he slowly, but making sure to be careful, set about making the batter for Belgian waffles. Sure, he could have gotten pre-made batter if he'd wanted, but he knew it would mean more to make it himself, even if Atti would say he should've just gone to bed. But for Jamie, it was all or nothing. He'd do anything for Atticus. 

A short series of beeps, as well as the coffee maker turning on, interrupted his thoughts (though he was most likely nodding off a bit). Done with the batter, he yawned and shuffled to the iron with the batter bowl and carefully filled it. As he waited for the first waffle to be made, he grabbed a few plates as well as coffee mugs and set them on the counter. By the time he was done, the waffle was ready and he pulled it out and set it on one of the plates. Jam filled the iron, waited for the waffle to cook, and pulled it out a total of five times, filling the two plates. 

With another yawn, he walked back over to the coffee maker and poured out two cups of fresh coffee into the mugs. Opening the fridge once more, and cursing the bright light again, he pulled out butter, syrup, milk, and his hazelnut creamer. He quickly fixed the two cups to his own, and to Atti's, liking. Grabbing a tray, he put the two plates and mugs on it, as well as the tub of butter and bottle of syrup. 

A sigh of relief issued from his mouth as he stretched his limbs out. Finally, he was close to being able to sleep, though more important things came first; his boyfriend. Jamie carefully grabbed the tray and made his way, slowly, to the bedroom. Propping the tray against his hip, the young man quietly opening the door and made his way inside. He was glad Atticus was still asleep. Setting the tray on his end table, Jamie crawled onto the bed and snuggled against his boyfriend. A soft groan issued from the barely sleeping man when the younger man jostled his arm a bit at the same time he placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Five more minutes," Atti protested, pulling the comforter up close to his face, turning away from the other.

"Atti," Jam whined slightly. "Wake up. Your alarm is going to go off in two minutes anyways."

"Two minutes of precious sleep," the elder muttered.

"Get up." He didn't wait for a reply, tugging on the blankets that kept the other warm.

Atticus groaned again and attempted to retrieve the stolen layers of precious warmth, but the early morning sluggishness proved his loss in the short battle.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, though with a small smile, Jamie retrieved the tray of food and unfolded the legs, setting it over the man as he tried to blink the sleep away. The younger had known that getting one of those bed trays was a good idea, as much as Atti had teased him for it. 

"Jamie, you didn't have to," murmured Atti, sitting up against the headboard.

"I know, but I wanted to."

Rolling his eyes, the older man let out soft chuckle. "C'mere you."

Jamie grinned as he leaned forward. "Happy Valentine's Day," he murmured before pressing his lips to Atticus's. 

Nano Drabble Day 12