@madeofflint cont’d from HERE
Scrooge had never been much endeared to casual physical contact, or any unnecessary contact at all. The filthy caress of a stranger’s hand made him…wary, at best. Even as an adolescent, he’d never really gravitated towards any sports that required rough-and-tumble forms of touch…nor any sports at all. Rugby club was far outside his sphere of awareness and so the idea of being around other lads in anything but the most formal of settings was an entirely alien concept. Even in the dormitories, he’d kept to himself.
His new friend, however, seemed to consider it his duty to touch Scrooge whenever possible. An arm draped across his shoulders, an affectionate nudge, a pat on the back…every time accompanied by a lighting-like twinge, an odd feeling in Scrooge’s stomach that he couldn’t put into words. He’d thought of grousing at him to knock it off–Scrooge had even physically startled the first few times–but then, in addition to calling attention to himself, there was the threat that Jacob might actually stop, and Scrooge simply wasn’t sure that he could bear it.
So, when one evening while working beside each other at Fezziwig’s, Jacob’s stray hand found its way to Scrooge’s thigh, Scrooge didn’t have it within him to move, or shift, or tell him off. Instead, he found himself moving a hair closer to him on the bench, enjoying the pleasant warmth radiating from his hand.
In all honesty, Jacob didn’t think too much one way or the other about the touches. He was like that with most people after all, finding that a hand on someone’s shoulder was an effective method for generating familiarity...or making the other person intimidated. Both suited Jacob’s purposes just fine. Scrooge, however, had reacted differently than most, which was probably part of why Jacob found him so intriguing. There was a tenseness with which the other young man received these gestures that almost made him believe that his companion had never before been touched by a friendly hand...but surely that couldn’t be correct.
There was, of course, another theory that floated through Jacob’s mind from time to time, but he was quick to dismiss it...usually. Perhaps, it was simply boredom that had provoked him to act about his occasional suspicion. Or maybe it was something else entirely, but whatever had caused his boldness, the result was the same. He kept his eyes on his work, but his hand easily found what it was searching for, and much to his surprise, he was not immediately berated for it.
He picked up his head, letting his hand remain where it say as he regarded Ebenezer with what could almost be described as disinterest. He didn’t want to immediately show his hand just yet after all. While he had taken an interest in his companion, he was not about to go revealing such a thing while so many questions needed answering first. “I think I’ve had enough for the day. If I keep this up I’m going to be seeing numbers in my dreams.”
