#jayyeol

They see Jay roll his eyes, head shaking at their words. They’re used to it - they have a knack for finding just the right phrase to get peoples’ eyes rolling. It becomes a game, sometimes - not right then, but sometimes. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really bossy?” 

A laugh spills from their lips, turned up at the corners by Jay’s retort. “All the time,” they assure him, inclining their head in a nod. “It’s what keeps me alive.” 

They portion off another bit of cheesecake with their fork, popping it between their lips, grinning at him as they chew. they’d spent the afternoon making the cake in a half-size tin, the only one they could rustle up in their barely adequate kitchen. They weren’t really that into cooking, but their grandma had taught them bits and pieces over the years - plus they really wanted cheesecake so they’d resigned themselves to some time in the kitchen. They hadn’t even bothered plating it when they were done, just tucking the pan under their arm when they headed off to Jay’s apartment - Arian was off somewhere in the world, so they had to find someone else to share it with.

The pair fall quiet a moment, eating in companionable silence - they eat from either side of the breakfast bar, Jay leaning on one side, Siouxsie perched on a stool on the other, just about evening out their height difference. He had to admit, it was a pretty good cheesecake - he hadn’t expected something like that from Siouxsie, but he wasn’t complaining. Who complained about free food, anyway? Especially free food that showed up to your door. 

It’s Siouxsie who quits first, dropping their fork with a clang, pushing away from the counter in way that drags the legs of the stool against the floorboards, making Jay’s nose wrinkle. 

“Fuck, dude. That’s it. If I eat any more I’m gonna die,” they claim, slipping off the stool. They stagger in a dramatic sort of fashion, hamming it up as they make it to the couch, collapsing down on it. 

“Weak!” He pipes up through a half mouthful, laughing when Siouxsie lifts a hand to gesture with their middle finger. He’s not far behind them, though - three more mouthfuls and he drops his own piece of cutlery, following them on over to the sofa. They’re sitting so he sprawls out, spreading himself so his head lands in their lap, grinning up at them. Siouxsie sighs, jiggling their thigh but not doing much else in an attempt to unseat up. 

“Ugh, get off,” they complain, head tilting down to look at him. He just grins more, making them sigh again, big and over-dramatic. Siouxsie’s used to it, really - after years of kicking it around with a literal band of boys they’d learnt to deal with people using them as furniture. 

“Turn on the TV,” he orders in reply, and they pluck the up the remote from the arm of the sofa, beginning to cycle through channels. 

“You know,” he says after a few moments, filling the silence, voice brimming with amusement. “You have like four chins from this angle.” 

His words were met with a shove - one that sent him off their lap, shoulders slipping off the sofa completely. He ended up half on the floor, legs still up on the couch cushions. A dull pain blooms in the back of his head, but he’s too busy cracking up to acknowledge it. He laughs, Black Star skittering over to lick at his face now that it’s at an accessible height. Siouxsie looks less impressed, pulling their feet up onto the sofa as they go back to flicking through channels.