[ Maybe he should insist on getting some food in case he hasn’t eaten lately, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave the room. He wants to stay here as long as he can, because how is he going to find him next time? He wants to believe that it’ll pass, that maybe he’s hurt - maybe he’s not healing quickly, but there’s something different about all of this. Something that makes his stomach churn, because deep down he knows damn well what’s happening even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
Before pulling away, Steve kisses his forehead again before brushing his fingers along his hair as he speaks. ]
Still demanding as ever, huh?
[ It’s said teasingly, as if the attempt of humor will help make this easier, but ultimately he complies and lets go. Immediately he feels cold, ready to take his hand again and hug him all over again, but he keeps himself from doing so. He should sit, Steve reminds himself.
Staying close to him, he walks with him to the bed and sits at the edge of it. The bed creaks and moans with the weight, and it seems to almost echo in the motel room, but he hardly notices. He’s trying to focus on Jimmy’s breathing, almost as if doing so he can figure out what is going on, exactly.
At first he doesn’t say anything, he just reaches for Jimmy’s hand before speaking softly. ]
...when did this start, Jimmy? [ Before he can play dumb, Steve gently brushes his thumb over the now-rough skin, the spots where the claws come out. Those were never there before - he should know, he has spent lifetimes studying (and drawing) his hands whenever Jimmy wasn’t noticing. ]
no subject
Before pulling away, Steve kisses his forehead again before brushing his fingers along his hair as he speaks. ]
Still demanding as ever, huh?
[ It’s said teasingly, as if the attempt of humor will help make this easier, but ultimately he complies and lets go. Immediately he feels cold, ready to take his hand again and hug him all over again, but he keeps himself from doing so. He should sit, Steve reminds himself.
Staying close to him, he walks with him to the bed and sits at the edge of it. The bed creaks and moans with the weight, and it seems to almost echo in the motel room, but he hardly notices. He’s trying to focus on Jimmy’s breathing, almost as if doing so he can figure out what is going on, exactly.
At first he doesn’t say anything, he just reaches for Jimmy’s hand before speaking softly. ]
...when did this start, Jimmy? [ Before he can play dumb, Steve gently brushes his thumb over the now-rough skin, the spots where the claws come out. Those were never there before - he should know, he has spent lifetimes studying (and drawing) his hands whenever Jimmy wasn’t noticing. ]