Under the Westway

Chapter Eighteen

"You can't just go round kissing people!" Graham half whispers, his voice inflicted with anger.

"I know! But how am I supposed to cover up the fact I'm fagging out with you?" Damon retaliates, the sound of the party blaring below their feet through the floorboards.

"I know," Graham tugs at his sleeve and misses Damon's gaze by staring at the buttons on his shirt. "I just want to be with you all the time, you know? I don't like seeing Jarvis and his fucking stupid friends with you I guess."

A moment of silence follows, "I just miss you sometimes."
"Come on, we can play 7 minutes in heaven or something."
Graham grins, "Only if you meet me after." He winks and leads the elder downstairs again to join the party.

Jarvis is stood on the sofa, singing into the back of a hairbrush with another boy with floppy hair and a strange pair of pink glasses, they're holding hands and dancing across the cushions. Damon claps with the rest of the impromptu audience, Candida plays chords for them to sing along to.

"It's hard to believe that you go for that stuff, all those baby-doll nighties with synthetic fluff." Is caught in the lyrics, everyone smiling at Jarvis and the boy in pink glasses who are bouncing on the arms of chairs.
Jarvis steps onto the floor, taking the hold of Graham's arm, strutting into a gap in the crowd. Graham can feel his face heating up.

"He's got your heart."
Graham sways with him, smiling awkwardly as his cheeks flush a solid shade of pink from behind the rim of his glasses. The boy in pink joins them, taking Graham's other arm and spinning him,
"He's got control."
Damon joins them, a cigarette between his fingers and his jacket slung onto the floor.
"You might as well know!" A chorus erupts from those in the room, obviously it's a well known act from the biggest personalities in the room.

Maybe he's out of his depth. Maybe he's in his element.

*

"He's 2D." Jamie raises a bottle to his lips again and smiles as he talks to himself. He pulls out a marker from his pocket and begins to draw a new character of his on the white tiled wall. He's sitting in the bath, his beer now balanced between his knees as he scribbles bright blue hair on a sad looking cartoon. He grins, leaning back into the bath and taking another sip of beer.

Damon and Graham giggle as they run into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them as Damon backs into the wall. The shorter of the pair smiles as he pulls away from their kiss that reeks of alcohol and bad vinyls stored on their sides.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, Jamie?" Damon exclaims, having seen his friend crumpled under the shower.

"Art, Albarn, art." He runs a finger over the scrawl on the wall and cocks a grin at the two.

"We can go to the bedroom." Graham whispers into Damon's ear, his teeth catching on syllables like toffees in the hot sun and sports day of '82. 
Graham slides his hand into the back pocket of the taller's jeans as they leave Jamie in the bath admiring his work and search for a free room.

"I'd be happy to do it in the hallway." Graham speaks even more softly this time, grazing his tongue over a spot on Damon's neck. Damon shivers.

"You wish, princess. You'd probably be into humiliation." He winks, although his heart feels like it's pounding.