sovietmadesoldier:
he was used to such things, expected to go out of his way and attend them. despite what other plans he could have potentially had that didn’t revolve around his father’s career.everything had been dropped accordingly, and here he was. wasting time that he would have preferred to spend studying, socializing with people that weren’t double his age. unfortunately for him nothing about this was optional, he didn’t have a choice. attendance had been mandatory, according to the senator. he forces a tight lipped smile, the same one he wears to each of these social events, the same one that everyone bought and believed to be real.
the student keeps up false pretenses, remains aware, careful that he doesn’t say something incorrectly or behave in any other way than what was expected of him. unlike his father he had never grown to appreciate the world that they lived in. the foundation that their income came from, what had been done to get them here. no, james would never truly be interested in any of it. the first born child of the oh-so wonderful senator kept his head down. stayed out of sight and out of mind as much as he was permitted. most of his life revolved around school and the small group of friends that he’d accumulated.
to keep up a fake sense of politeness he’d dipped into over priced alcohol that was being served to people that seemed to need it in order to stay in the same room with one another. mouth tinted in the undoubtably toxic taste of alcohol, he moves. frees himself from a conversation with a woman that’s well into her seventies, he navigates to the furthest end of the room, as far away as he can get———and continues.
silently, he opens the door to the mostly unoccupied balcony and moves to the edge. the other male’s presence doesn’t go unnoticed, its simply not one that he feels the need to avoid. the corners of his lips pull into a sloppy smirk when the other male acknowledges his presence. his arms bend at his elbows and rest against the elaborate rail that lines the balcony.
”no, yes. don’t call me sir.”
he leans forward, anticipating a cigarette to be handed to him. the smirk is still present, but wavers every few seconds, only to return again.
“you don’t have to go back inside, you know. i’ll claim you’re helping me, with something no one deserves to be in there.”
a lot of people ask him if he has a steady girlfriend or a wife or anyone--and he always has to respond with a no. maybe a few years ago, when he was fresh out of the army and lost and clueless, that could've been an acceptable answer. now that he's turning twenty-seven in july and still single, it feels like there's some sort of expectancy weighing him down: find a dame, get married, have kids. do what everyone else is doing. but he doesn't want that, can't see himself settling down. instead of dreaming about kissing beautiful pin-ups, he dreams of kissing handsome and rugged soldiers. he can't do that to a girl so he doesn't try.
but now, with that nutjob mccarthy and everyone running scared because of eisenhower's executive order, he feels like he's suffocating a little bit, even if he goes through every precaution to keep his perverted thoughts and lifestyle a secret. people don't suspect him of anything wrong: he's a handsome, ambitious veteran with a lot of potential. he'd served his country in the war and is serving it now. but his thoughts run wild, and he can't help but think of being caught and taken to jail or worse. he hears what happens to people like him.
james and his smile are going to get him in trouble. he knows it. but instead of shrugging it off or maybe walking away after giving him a cigarette, he lights it up for him when it's pursed between his lips, crashing the match under his shoe. he's seen the way james looks at him, but he can't read him--can't tell if he's just got wondering eyes or if he's interested.
it's a dangerous path he's taking. he already knows it. but he won't try anything unless he knows for sure james is interested in the same route.
"i should be doing my job--protecting the people."
exhaling a few smoke rings, rogers looks away from james for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. he turns then, leaning his back against the balcony.
"unless you have something more important we can do."
