Email: Mwahahaha.
Rating: NC17
Disclaimers: don't own any of the buggers in this. I know I did trick you about the rating but HA! Suuuucker.
Notes: Sup to The M, for kicking off with this and making me write again.
�Bugger
'What do you mean he's not coming out?'
'Exactly fucking that, the bugger's gone and locked himself in his room, says he wants an early night.'
'Jamie? We're talking about Jamie right?'
'Aye, about so high, dark hair and a fondness for Maltesers.'
Silence for a few seconds.
'You reckon he's got a bird in there? Or knowing him, he's not but he's hacked into the porn channels.'
Rippled laughter as they all nod in agreement.
'That's a point, he scrounged all my condoms off me, the wanker!'
'No no, get it right, the posh wanker.'
Laughing like drains.
'Actually, come to think of it, where's Stu?'
Consideration.
'On the phone to his mother I think'
Holding his hands up to the sky in a gesture of invoking divine help to deliver him from some predicament, Ian swore, his lilting accent sparing some of the harshness.
'Fucking hell! Come on, he can meet us there, he's got a phone!'
*
If you stare at your reflection long enough you'll see something you don't like; something wearing your face but a complete stranger. Maybe even a person that has 'worn your mask' before. A *you* that you didn't like and just wanted to shed like a snake shedding skin.
It was Stu that found him, curled up fetal on the shower mat, shaking.
'You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need'.
Fucking truthful.Jagger might have been an ugly bastard, but he knew how some shit worked. Stu had been concerned, had picked him up, cradling the smaller man as if fragile. He was naked and wet, the razorblade still grasped between his fingers. Stu didn't see that, he'd just wrapped him in a towel and carried him, like the guiding angel that he'd been waiting for to deliver Lee into his arms and into his bed. As Stu had picked him up, he'd become suddenly ashamed of the blade in his hands, trying to hide it with his flesh and from Stu's chest, he hardly felt the pain as the blade dug further and further into the skin of his palm, warmth spreading up and staining the towel.
Looking down, Stu's eyes widened in shock as he saw the unmistakable red of the blood spreading across the white towel covering the man cradled baby- like in his arms. Rushing him across to the hotel sofa, he lowered him down, pulling the covering from his body in a frantic quest to find the source of his injury. Pulling Jamie's hand open and seeing the mutilated flesh of his palm, Stu's expression softened. Becoming more and more agitated at the discovery, Jamie stuttered an explanation.
'Stu, I didn't want to you see it!'
He'd been gripping a razorblade.
'Why do you have this, Jamie?'
Why would Jamie have a razorblade? What had happened that everybody else had missed to make him want to take his own life? Jamie had recoiled at his words, maybe they'd come out just a little too harsh. Softening his tone, he tried again.
'Jamie, why do you have a razorblade? Are you trying to kill yourself?'
His expression unreadable, Jamie struggled to explain what he, himself could not understand. Running his unhurt hand through his hair and suddenly self conscious, pulled the towel over his body in an attempt to cover his modesty.
'It's just that...when I feel so...I don't fucking know, when I look in the mirror, I see the same worthless piece of shit that got bullied at school, that everyone else hated. ...'
Taking his friend's hand, Stu moved closer offering comfort.
'Go on?'
Jamie couldn't help but study those deep, intense eyes for a moment, could he trust him??? Licking his lips nervously, he continued.
'It's just that...I remember everything they said to me, the times when they'd humiliate me in front of everyone and the pain would just come rushing back.'
His voice growing low, his eyes fell downwards, closing as they saw the mess that his hand was in.
' It used to work then...'
Panic entered Stu, panic and disbelief. He'd done this before?? Still, he needed to hear it.
'What used to work Jamie?'
Jamie looked up, his eyes suddenly cold and empty. Voice emotionless.
'Cutting myself. I used to do it in the shower so that I didn't get blood on the furniture at my parent's house. I used to cut myself.'
Shit.
'Do you want to hand me that razor Jamie? And maybe think about letting me clean up that hand of yours?'
Nodding, Jamie held his hurt hand over the outstretched and expectant one of Stu. At first the blade didn't fall, must have been too far embedded, but finally, it slid out of Jamie's palm and onto Stu. The bleeding intensified and Stu rushed back into the bathroom, looking for something to stop the bleeding. Reaching for a face towel, he wet it slightly under the tap and ran back to his friend.
Jamie couldn't help but swear as Stuart pressed the towel down onto his palm.
'Shit!'
Blue eyes looking up, the pressure on his hand eased little.
'Sorry, I have to keep the pressure, but I'll make you a little badge with gold stars on after if you want.'
The words had been full of that trademark Stu humour, but his voice was devoid of all mirth.
'So, what made you cut yourself this time?'
A shadow crossed Jamie's normally light features.
'I d-d-don't know'
Moving closer.
'Liar, it was that shit with Ian Camfield today, after the interview, when he started on you wasn't it?'
Jamie's face dropped, no one else had been there, he'd been alone, as always.
'H-how did you know about that?'
Moving the towel from the hand to check his success at stemming the blood flow, he studied the wound as he answered.
'I saw it.'
Jamie had been alone, Stu had been there but not done a fucking thing. He could feel the tears building up in his eyes and tried to blink them away. Stu hadn't finished though.
'When you'd gone, I pinned him up against the wall and told him never to fuck with any of my bandmates and friends. He won't bother you again'
Comforted, but worn after the histrionics of the day, Jamie couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Only one thought pervading his mind ...at least someone cared for me'.
Strong arms suddenly round him, his tears wetting Stu's chest. Trying to keep the sobs down, he buried his head deeper. The other man held him close, rocking him, trying to take away all the hurt. It seemed like an age before anyone spoke. Clearing his throat, Stu was the first to break the silence.
'Come on, Jamie, lets get you to bed.'
He didn't know why, but he'd suddenly become afraid of being left alone. While Stu had been here, he'd been able to value himself a little. Clinging on a like a small child, he begged.
'Don't leave me alone....please.'
His voice had been so quiet, barely above a whisper, his eyes frightened and red from crying. He couldn't leave him like this. Nodding his ascent, he carefully prised Jamie away and slowly rose from the couch.
'Don't worry, I'm just going to get you some pyjamas and a bandage.'
Jamie forced a weak smile to let him know that he'd be okay for the amount of time that Stu needed, watching as the other man began to search through the reams of 'Jamie luggage'.
*
Hands bandaged and comfortable in his sleeping shorts and t-shirt, Jamie huddled under the covers, waiting for Stu to finish brushing his teeth and let him know it was all going to be okay. He felt raw, like a piece of him had been laid out open to the world, hurting him, making it hard for him to see anyway back to being the 'cheeky chappy' that everyone knew him to be. Trying to close his eyes against this fresh pain, he felt the cold rush of air as the covers were being lifted up as Stu entered the bed, inexplicably making his heartbeat race.
He'd expected Stu to be all 'heterosexual' and 'manly' about the whole bed sharing thing.
There were no words spoken, pulling himself close, Stu curled around the smaller man protectively, like he was protecting the smallest and most delicate child in the world.
He felt the warmth of the other man round him, arm protectively across his body locking him in, safe from harm.
With the razor and memories forgotten in the bathroom bin, Jamie would sleep.
*
