@demonsfist
Jason picked up a smoking habit once, three odd years ago when he was sour at the whole world. It only lasted about five months, but that was apparently long enough to permanently instill a craving whenever he feels like shit.
Roy hasn’t changed dramatically the way he has. Longer hair, but the length was always a toss-up, anyway. Thinner, though, in the arms and waist in a way that sets off some dusty, worried pangs. Jason is torn between an inherent concern for his well-being that will never dissipate, and a nasty satisfaction in knowing that the past four years clearly haven’t been a cake walk for him either.
Currently, there is a gorgeous boy (presumably) asleep in his bed three miles away, a boy that he has loved without hesitation for two years and some months. There is no doubt in him that he will continue to love Kyle, without hesitation, for as long as he’s allowed--so why does a high school fling he should have forgotten about still weigh on his chest?
Maybe they just need to talk. Maybe he just needs some closure.
“Hey,” he’s said Roy’s name aloud maybe twice in the past four years, he thinks he’d coke on it if he tried now, “what the fuck did you say to Kyle? It takes a lot to make him throw a punch.”
Four years. No preamble, right to the chase.