Under the Westway

Chapter Nineteen

Damon flicks open a pack of cigarettes and tucks his feet under his legs as he sits cross-legged on the metal chair on the back porch. Graham lies on his side, fast asleep on the sofa and drooling in the bliss before his hangover hits.
He lights the roll and takes a long drag, eyeing the glass of water that sober-Damon from last night left out for him and his future headache.

"I can't believe you didn't leave me one out." Jamie half-whispers hoarsely, shaking the card box and picking out the last, slightly broken cigarette. He stands on the threshold of the french doors, a huge hoodie draped over his body and a pair of bright blue boxers. He takes the seat next to Damon, showing off a pair of stolen fluffy socks that probably belonged to Graham. A smear of bright pink lipstick stains his chin and left cheek, the same colour of Ryan's from the party. Damon raises an eyebrow and smirks silently.

Jamie inhales and exhales a mouthful of smoke at his friend, his hair falling over his eyes in the soft morning light.
"You are bloody gorgeous." He says, a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. "I'm not gay, but if I was, trust 'n' believe I'd be all up in your gig."

Damon giggles, batting him away and ashing his roll into the broken ashtray that lies half-empty on the grid table.
"Morn'ng." Graham rubs his glasses before sitting on Damon's lap, crossing his feet so that they don't touch the still freezing patio tiles. He takes a sip from the glass of water on the table before tucking his head into his boyfriend's shoulder, planting an almost silent kiss on his fabric covered collarbone. Damon runs a hand through Graham's hair, flicking his fringe gently away from his eyes and adjusting his glasses, eyes of milk and tired medicine.

"Anyone want to watch Grange Hill? I can hear it playing in the sitting room." Jamie interrupts the silence. Damon wishes he hadn't.

They heave themselves up, one by one and pad softly inside together. Jamie disappears for a minute, returning with a thick duvet and a jumper for Graham, who had been shivering after realising how cold it really is beyond the glass back doors. The trio climb under the duvet, Graham tucking his icy feet underneath Damon's thighs and leaning back into the bed of cushions around him.

"Sometimes I could really stay like this forever, y'know."
His lips feel dry and the radio drones to a tune Jarvis sung once behind them.