#thread:casey

There’s something honorable about a man who attempts reconciliation — not that Cameron had ever been one of those men, but he admired the grit it must’ve taken to swallow one’s pride. It wasn’t a skill he had much practice in — if any — but the concept of rebuilding a bridge previously burnt to a crisp was puzzling, a litany of questions coming to the surface as a tidal wave of self-doubt swept him away. Was he the type of person to extend an olive branch? No. Never.

Yet, as Lexus’ gentle question rattled around in his brain, Cameron found himself at odds. If she had been able to forgive Casey, why couldn’t he? Easy, she was far too trusting. Nonetheless, he went with the sole intention to prove someone wrong — be it himself or his therapist, though his money was undoubtedly on the therapist. With a bottle of whiskey, a fresh pack of cigarettes stolen from a nurse’s handbag and a deep frown etched across his forehead, Cam found himself lingering outside his fellow yellow patient’s door. “Fuck it,” He muttered, banging a clenched fist against the wood. No turning back now. Attempting what he thought was a friendly smile, Cameron adjusted slightly to reveal the contraband in his pocket, blue hues hardening as the door opened.

“Hey, you in?”

@ccallahann​

Casey had opened all the windows to let in the warm breeze, as much as he loved Leon’s loft he wanted to the make the place theirs. Now that he had a gold band on his finger, he just wanted to see their place become a home. So he had picked up some paint the night before and that morning after breakfast they had laid out the tarps to protect the floor. He was wearing his husbands shirt and a pair of short shorts. “You better actually help me paint mister. I don’t want any slacking from you.” 

Casey was studying with a group of his friends for an upcoming economics exam they had when he looked over at a girl ordering at the coffee shop counter. “You know what I need a refill.” He said pushing away from the table to go get another coffee, as he walked up behind her he smirked. “I see the walk of shame last night didn’t do you too bad.” With alcohol they had fucked around, he presumed she thought he was his brother. “So you can’t tell Jon that we fucked. He’d kill me.” Though he hated his brother for having one smoking hot woman, one he’d gladly get back into his bed if she’d let him.

Casey would rather be back at his dorm in university then spending the long weekend home entertaining people who were far too posh for his likes. But his father told him he couldn’t hide away at college the entire year. So for his mother’s sake he was home roaming through the party exchanging pleasantries and being dreadfully bored. That was until he bumped into someone, turning around he was about to have a tongue lashing to whomever bumped into him. “I know you.” His eyes narrowed, he had some strange name he was struggling to remember.