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28 October 2009 @ 05:46 pm
fic: symbiosis (francis, PG-13)  
Holy crap LJ it's my writing! I'm trying to get warmed up for NaNo on Sunday. I am so rusty it's stupid, because this took me like a really long time to write and it's not even good.

symbiosis, pg

Francis taps his fingers against the bottom of his boot, staring out the living room window in his apartment. He bounces the knee his foot is sitting on, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the table nearby, and standing, he fishes his lighter from his pocket.

Fucking Jamie, he thinks, lighting up.

Jamie and his non-judging and his Whatever You Need To Do and his being so fucking chill. He loves Francis no matter what, no matter how he's dressed on any given day, and no matter what stupid little word he's using to refer to himself in the third person. It makes Francis want to punch him in the face.

On days when Francis is sitting on the floor in the bathroom, back to the mirror, bottle of rum in his hand, Jamie will knock at the door, opening it slowly.

"Hey."

Francis will look up at him with angry, red eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

Jamie will sit on the toilet lid, resting his elbows on his knees, sighing. He knows that Francis will get over this in four hours, three days, a week. It varies, but Francis will get pissed, get drunk, and get over it.

They'll sit in silence, because Jamie knows the last thing Francis wants is somebody to tell him "it'll be okay, you're beautiful for who you are, don't worry, don't worry it's okay." Francis sniffs, and Jamie gets down and sits on the floor in front of him, the five inches he has on Francis making it a more awkward position.

Fucking Jamie. When you hate the body you're housed in, you can't get away from it. You can't just turn off the television or stop listening or just leave.

In the apartment, Francis exhales smoke through his nose, folding his arms across his chest. He thinks about what Paul McCartney would do, and actually contemplates it seriously for a moment before realizing that Paul McCartney doesn't have gender issues and this is a completely moot point.

Jamie is out of town, and Francis hates him for it. He wants to get drunk in the bathroom and have Jamie come and pull him out of it and hold him. He just wants wants his fucking punching bag.