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 Thomas knew that Jimmy was left-handed. It surprised Thomas a little that Carson hadn’t mentioned it at all, since he was normally insistent on his footmen behaving perfectly. This led him to the conclusion that maybe no one had noticed, or cared. After all, they rarely had to write downstairs, and platters were always held on the left.

Thomas was a little alarmed when Jimmy showed up outside to smoke with his left hand bandaged and half hidden in the front of his livery. It explained his disappearance right after breakfast. The bandage was too tidy for anyone downstairs to have done it.

"Don’t ask," Jimmy then snapped all of a sudden, indicating that Thomas had been looking too long.

"I won’t," Thomas grinned. Jimmy was embarrassed. It must have been one of his displays of masculinity gone wrong again. Trying to show off in front of Alfred and the girls. He lit Jimmy’s cigarette and sighed. Jimmy always carried a little blush lately, it seemed. They hadn’t shared another breath over Thomas’ inappropriate educating session, but things had definitely changed. They had become attached at the hip. More accurately, Jimmy had become attached at Thomas’ hip. When he could, he tried to do everything with Thomas; go out together, sit at the table together, take smoke breaks together. Thomas didn’t object. There had been no backlash of regret or guilt, and Jimmy hadn’t accused Thomas of taking advantage. There had only been silence about the affair. Until now.

"I overstrained the tendons in my wrist," Jimmy then went on, even though Thomas hadn’t asked. "Woke up this morning and it hurt like the dickens," he hissed. So it hadn’t been one of his shows, Thomas deduced. Come to think of it, Jimmy had gone to bed before him. Maybe he’d slept on it wrong, Thomas’ mind offered. Jimmy became increasingly redder under Thomas’ watch. Maybe not. "Dr Clarkson told me to spare it a little and i’ll be fit by the end of the week," Jimmy sighed. He stared into the small courtyard, smoking awkwardly with his right hand.

"What did you do with it then?" Thomas finally asked, now genuinely curious at Jimmy’s embarrassment. He’d brought this on himself.

"Nothin’," Jimmy repeated, turning his head almost a complete 180 degrees away from Thomas.

"Jimmy," Thomas insisted. He was starting to enjoy himself. With a swift movement, Jimmy spun around and closed the small distance between them.

"I was doing it to myself, alright? What you did to me, I wanted it," Jimmy rambled. Thomas could feel his breath on his face, that’s how close he was.

"Oh," Thomas articulated.That didn't take any effort at all. Jimmy slowly took a step back, clenching his jaw. It did strange things to Thomas’ body. Well, not strange, per se. Just things he didn’t expect to feel on Tuesday morning in a courtyard surrounded by chickens.

"Don’t look at me like that," Jimmy muttered. So there was a look connected to this all-consuming feeling of lust. Good to know.

"Hey, I’m concerned about you. Plus, I was just thinking you might have slept on it awkwardly," Thomas defended, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He would need it if he wanted to make it through the day.

"Yeah, well- just don’t look at me," Jimmy shrugged. Thomas could see him thinking that that explanation would have been just as acceptable. Thomas did as he pleased though, and joined him in looking at a fat brown chicken. They smoked in silence for a while. Thomas pressed his lips together. For once, he had the upper hand in the situation. He wanted to laugh, or tease him. He had to say something.

"So you think about that, then," Thomas mumbled. He saw Jimmy’s head snap in his direction from the corner of his eye.

"Yes, if you must know. All the time," Jimmy shot back. Thomas didn’t know where this spunk was coming from all of a sudden, but he liked it. He’d missed Jimmy’s biting side a little now that they had this weird friendship. Not that he’d trade mellow Jimmy for the one that hated and avoided him, but a bit of hissing between his teeth was very welcome. Thomas felt his lips purse again as he took a last drag from his cigarette.

"I’d better get back to work," Thomas then sighed. He gave Jimmy one of his friendliest smiles before he went back inside. Jimmy looked a little dumbfounded at the lack of response from Thomas’ side. If the situation was a recipe, it would say something along the lines of ‘simmer, uncovered, for a few hours’ now. Thomas laughed at his own inside joke, to which Bates shot him a weird look. Thomas couldn’t care less what he thought.

 

 

Thomas didn’t want to stay away from Jimmy all day though. Firstly because he didn’t want to make the whole avoiding act too obvious. Secondly because, well, because he wanted to see Jimmy. He’d subtly checked every part of the house for him, and was just starting to fear he’d been sent out to run errands, when Alfred passed him on the stairs. He wore a big grin on his face.

"D’you find a pot of gold or something?" Thomas put a cigarette to his lips as he was on his way out. Alfred halted at his question.

"Even better. Have you looked out the front door?" Thomas shook his head. "Jimmy’s raking the gravel," he guffawed.

"Jimmy’s what?" Thomas took the cigarette back between his fingertips to keep it from falling out of his mouth. Alfred shrugged and bolted up the stairs. Thomas hesitated for a moment but then turned and went upstairs as well. There was no one in the hall so Thomas took the front door.

Low and behold, there was Jimmy, raking gravel. He looked up from his work when Thomas appeared on the front steps, but then shook his head. He was dragging the large rake back and forth with his right hand, his left still tucked in the front of his livery. Thomas sat down on the lowest step and lit his cigarette. He kicked at some oddments of gravel that had wandered onto the steps.

"Carson will kill you for that," Jimmy remarked. It was true, Carson wouldn’t like Thomas exiting through the front door, and sitting down where everyone could see.

"He’s already taking out his frustrations on someone else, I think I’ll be fine," Thomas sniggered.

"The hallboys are all busy," Jimmy tried to explain.

"So first footman was the next logical option." The rhetorical question made Jimmy halt in his steps. He leaned on the rake.

"He really hates me, doesn’t he," Jimmy muttered. "Give me one." He held out his hand and Thomas passed him a cigarette, lighting it. After a long drag, Jimmy let out a deep sigh. "I’ve always hated Tuesdays."

"Really?" Thomas felt an uncontrollable smirk take place on his lips again. This seemed to be a recurring event today. "I’m having a lovely day," Thomas declared. He leaned back on his elbows and watched the other man frown. A couple drops of sweat glistened in the crease on his forehead. His coiffure was faltering under the sun. It was quite warm for early spring, and the light coloured gravel was not helping.

"You’re a great friend, really," Jimmy sneered, narrowing his eyes at him again.

"Ah, come on! I’m only teasing," Thomas half-apologized. "Maybe I should help brighten your day a little, now that you can’t do it yourself," he offered jokingly. He blew out a cloud of smoke and snorted at Jimmy’s baffled expression. This day was getting better by the second. He felt like he could only joke like this with Jimmy and not appear malicious. Jimmy never took him as seriously as the rest. Suddenly, Jimmy’s face went blank.

"Actually, you know what? That’s a great idea," Jimmy nodded determinedly. Thomas nearly felt his blood curdle to a halt in the veins of his forearms. "Looking forward to that already," Jimmy then added before picking up his rake and disappearing towards the back door with a sparing smile. Thomas gaped after him, slowly regaining the feeling in his hands. With the heavy beating of his heart came a heat to his face, and this time it wasn’t the sun. Thomas stared at the opening in the hedge where the young man had just disappeared. Did he really just- Thomas had been bluffing. A joke, nothing more. Maybe Jimmy had been bluffing as well. Maybe he had misunderstood, and he thought Thomas wanted to brighten his day with a card game. The thought of Jimmy, completely at his mercy, forced its way into his mind and made his jaw twitch. He so hoped Jimmy hadn’t been joking.

"Mr Barrow, I am technically not your superior but I highly suggest you take your loitering elsewhere," came from behind him. The rolling r’s and the high pitch startled him, and Thomas snapped back into posture as Mrs Hughes walked by him. It was a mystery where she had just come from, but then again he hadn’t really been paying attention. "Thomas? What are you up to?" So it wasn’t just a feeling. Thomas felt his cheeks must have been a deep crimson and he was grateful that Mrs Hughes had only appeared after Jimmy had left. They would have been too easy to read otherwise.

"I’m just- catching some sun. I felt like I needed some vitamin D after that winter," he managed in an even tone.

"Vitamin D," Mrs Hughes repeated in an incredulous tone. "You’ll miss out on that when Carson makes you end up at the workhouse," she warned again before leaving.

 

The tables had been turned on him so fast his head was spinning all day. Thomas couldn’t find Jimmy for the majority of the afternoon, which gave him the impression his plan had wholly backfired on him. He found himself at the table in a near empty servants’ hall right before dinner, defeated. And somehow a little aroused, although that was probably futile.

"Papers away," Ivy announced. She came in with a stack of plates. Thomas folded the newspaper that he wasn’t reading anyway and looked up into a smiling face. Ivy put a plate under his nose. Anna came in and sat down next to her husband, who was just tweaking his stitches on one of Lord Grantham's waistcoats. They started canoodling immediately. Mid groan, Thomas noticed a familiar figure in his peripheral vision.

Jimmy had the front of his livery unbuttoned as he came in and slouched down next to Thomas. Don’t look, he’s doing this on purpose, Thomas convinced himself. "Uh, Mr Barrow?" Thomas’ head snapped in Jimmy’s direction embarrassingly quickly. "I wanted to ask you-" The grin on his lips was not promising. "About this morning," he mumbled, not nearly quiet enough. "I was wondering if you could show me that other thing, the one we talked about last time?" Thomas gaped at him. "Maybe after dinner?"

"What’s that then, Jimmy?" Anna leaned over the table.

"Oh, Mr Barrow wanted to show me some tricks to get better at playing twenty-one," Jimmy lied.

"Mr Barrow’s gonna show you how to count cards, is he?" Thomas cleared his throat.

“Ah- I wouldn’t call it counting cards as such-” he stuttered. How in the hell he got dragged into this conversation was beyond him. All he knew was that he was in it, and he was struggling. Anna gave him an unmeant mean look and went back to her own conversation.

"So, will you?" Jimmy beamed.

"Yes- if you’ll shut up about it," Thomas hissed. Jimmy seemed pleased with himself.

By the time steaming pots made it to the table, Thomas was on the verge of tears. He’d fling Jimmy on the table and have him right there. Instead, he poked a potato around on his plate. He barely touched his food though, and when he finally did, it was cold. He saw his plate leave the table with the majority still on it. Mrs Patmore shot him an odd glance, but he tried to return it with a smile.

After dinner, Jimmy decided it was a good idea to lighten up the mood with some music. Thomas was left playing cards with Molesley. He had never found as little pleasure in winning a card game as today. Moles lay was such a nitwit, Thomas sometimes felt bad for him. Even with only a minimal percentage of his brain present, Thomas won round after round. He also smoked cigarette after cigarette, lighting one with the next. Every now and then, his eyes would drift to Jimmy’s back, a carnivalesque tune rising up from the small piano. Did he really just request Thomas to- really? Thomas shifted in his chair. This innocent, little blond boy made his head spin and set everything else on fire, and did so with a smile. The word boy was misplaced, Jimmy was definitely a man- Thomas had checked.

"You’re smoking a lot tonight, Mr Barrow," Daisy remarked.

"Probably the pretty girls on the advertisements," Ivy mused, looking up from her magazine for a moment. It seemed like she was flirting with him, but Thomas was beyond good judgement at this point.

"I doubt that," Jimmy retorted, not turning away from his piano to see Thomas cast his eyes down.

"I’m off to bed," Thomas decided. He’d had enough smalltalk and happy music and teasing for the day. He didn’t wait for Jimmy’s confirmation. If he wanted something, he’d follow.

"Mr Barrow?" Thomas’ foot had only touched the first step when a deep voice startled him. "I was wondering if you had a minute," Carson asked seriously. Thomas sighed. He was not in the mood to be reprimanded. This was probably about sitting on the front steps. He wondered who’d ratted him out. When he entered the butler’s small office however, he saw that there was a tidy line of wine bottles on the desk. "Glad you could spare a moment before bed, I need a fresh eye on these," Carson explained.

"Alright." Thomas sat down.

"This is a the wine for dinner tomorrow, but I seem to have made a mistake. It says there is only one bottle of this one left-" He tapped a dark bottle,"but there are three," he mumbled. Thomas wondered how having more wine than you remembered was a problem, but picked up one of the bottles. If only he could focus on something else than Jimmy, in his bed. There was an ornate label on the bottle he held. A handful of different fonts were used, and there was an etch of a mountain or cliff under the name. The same was on the two other bottles still on the desk. Cape something or other. South African then. Carson had probably figured that out too.

"I- I don’t see a difference, Mr Carson," Thomas admitted.

"Hm, terribly annoying," Mr Carson sighed. There was a short knock on the door. "Yes?" A head with soft blond hair appeared from behind the door. " James?"

"Mrs Hughes asks if you have a moment, later," Jimmy explained. There was absolutely no reason for him to be asking on Mrs Hughes’ behalf, other than annoying Thomas.

"Of course," Carson replied.

"I’ll let her know. Good night then," Jimmy smiled. "Night, Mr Barrow."

"G’night," Thomas muttered. As soon as the door clicked, Thomas picked up the bottle again and began studying it. Come on, focus. There has to be something. He picked up a second bottle and started comparing letter by letter. They were the same.

"Oh well, I guess I should be pleased about having more of the ‘12 than I thought," Carson shrugged, closing his book. The 1912?

"Mr Carson, I’m holding two ‘15 bottles." Thomas turned the bottles in the old man’s direction, who squinted at them.

"Ah. That would explain it." He grabbed the two bottles from his hands and peered at the labels. "It’s quite dark in the wine cellar, I must have stored them wrong," Carson mused.

"Yes. Well, good night, Mr Carson," Thomas sighed. He got up from his chair and straightened his waistcoat.

"Good night, Mr Barrow. Thank you for your help." Thomas gave him another nod and left the office. He needed to keep it together, the one time Carson thanked him for something. There was no music coming from the servants’ hall anymore, which indicated that Jimmy had gone to bed. Thomas bolted up the stairs, unbuttoning his waistcoat as he went.

 

Upstairs, he found a thin line of light coming from under his own door. He sighed, but he wasn't sure if it was with relief or frustration. As soon as he opened the door, Jimmy snapped up from his bed.

"Mr Barrow." He had a soft smile and the expression of a small dog on his face. Thomas grabbed him by the front of his shirt and swung him, with one hand, until he slammed his back against the closed door. The smile disappeared. "I were only joking, Mr Barrow. Really-"

"You’re here, aren’t you?" He hissed against Jimmy’s face, his fist still tightly clutched around the stiff fabric. Jimmy’s eyes closed at the breath on his skin. With his left hand, he cupped Jimmy’s jaw and ran a thumb over his bottom lip.

"I- I," Jimmy stammered. He looked up to reveal his dilated pupils. Thomas pressed his thigh against the door, and up, between Jimmy’s legs. He suppressed a gasp at the realisation that Jimmy was half hard already. Jimmy’s bandaged hand grabbed at Thomas’ on his face, and it came as a wake up call. Thomas took a step back and straightened his waistcoat once again. Jimmy remained glued to the door.

"Get naked, and get on the bed," Thomas ordered.

"Yes, Mr Barrow," Jimmy complied. Thomas thought to correct the address, but then decided he rather liked it. Jimmy passed him and stood next to the bed, fumbling at his trousers and shirt at the same time. Thomas watched for a moment. He was taking far too long for his taste.

"How on earth did you get dressed this morning?" Thomas scoffed, stepping in.

"Very slowly," Jimmy grumbled in his signature style. It was nice to be remembered it was actually Jimmy, and he was actually letting Thomas undress him. Thomas allowed himself a kiss as he pulled Jimmy’s shirt out of his trousers.

"Couldn’t do that on your own," he muttered. Jimmy shook his head. Thomas had been keeping himself together over the past few hours. He could manage these last minutes too. The weight of Jimmy’s leaning into him didn’t help though. With every breath against his skin, he could feel a pleasurable jolt of anticipation shoot through him. Jimmy happily allowed him to slip his arms out of his shirt, taking care not to put pressure on his wrist.

"Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore," Jimmy uttered, barely audible.

"Oh, you can manage on your own then," Thomas teased, dipping his fingers just below the waistband on Jimmy’s trousers. Jimmy made a disapproving noise that didn’t quite turn into a word. Thomas let out a breathy laugh. It got stuck in his throat when Jimmy looked up again, his irises almost completely blackened and a mix of shame and excitement colouring his cheeks.

"Don’t tease, Thomas. I want- need it," Jimmy spoke sincerely. Thomas pulled him in by his undershirt and pressed their lips together again. Jimmy was very eager this time, and a lot less shy. He kissed back and up, nearly bruising Thomas’ nose in the process. His bandaged hand was suddenly very much able to unbutton Thomas’ trousers.

"Wha-" Thomas took a step back, but Jimmy followed immediately. There was no need for Thomas to undress though. That is, if they had the same thing in mind. "Jimmy-"

"I asked you, didn’t I?" A careful grin appeared as Jimmy went on to slide Thomas’ suspenders off his shoulders. He hoped he couldn’t feel his heartbeat resounding through his entire chest. Jimmy’s trousers dropped, unbuttoned. He stepped out of them and kicked off his shoes in the same movement. He sat back on the bed and dragged Thomas’ pants down, then scuffled backwards to make room on the mattress. Jimmy sat against the metal bars at the top of the bed and slid his underpants down swiftly, as Thomas imagined he did every night. His mouth felt like cotton as his eyes swept over him, from his flushed cheeks to his toned thighs and everything in between. He reached out but Jimmy swatted his hand off. "Watch me," he ordered, closing his eyes. He ran the fingers of his right hand over his own erection and rolled the taut skin back. With a sigh, his head fell back. Thomas watched as he stroked himself leisurely. He had to remind himself to close his mouth. "You too," Jimmy mumbled. It only took two words. Thomas didn’t know what excited him more, the touch of his own fingers against his skin, or the view in front of him. He tried to drink it all in at once, as much as he could. God knows when he’d get the chance again. Well, maybe it were better if God didn’t know. Jimmy’s brow creased, and not in a pleasant way. He sighed and dropped his head.

"Bloody useless," he muttered. He was referring to his hand. Though it wasn’t injured, his right hand clearly wasn’t as coordinated. Thomas carefully sat up on his heels, and waited for approval. Jimmy immediately dropped both hands by his sides as a sign of surrender. Thomas sat up on his knees and leaned over the shorter man, running a palm of his erection. His own could wait, though just for a few moments. Jimmy let his eyes slip shut as he drew in a sharp breath. "Kiss me then," he muttered under his breath. Thomas wrapped his fingers around the shaft and flicked his thumb over the tip of Jimmy’s cock. "Hm- kiss me," Jimmy repeated. His eyes opened just a crack.

"Ye- yes," Thomas stuttered. He carefully cupped Jimmy’s face with his left hand. Jimmy tilted his chin into the touch. As soon as Thomas locked lips with him, Jimmy clawed at his hair. Thomas stroked him slowly, but this was clearly not to his taste.

“I want it-Thomas,’ Jimmy searched for Thomas’ eyes. “I want it,” he insisted. His eyes were round like coins. He took Thomas’ left hand from his cheek and brought it to his mouth. Thomas could decide what to do with it. It was becoming clear to Thomas that this was Jimmy giving him what he wanted. Jimmy knew he would get his side of the bargain. After all, he was already on the bed, naked, looking utterly stunning. Thomas ran his fingers over Jimmy’s lips, that willingly parted. Jimmy sucked his fingers, seemingly growing more eager by the second. His tongue lapped at the two digits, and between them. If Thomas was having a hard time keeping it together before, he’d completely lost it now. His face hovered inches from Jimmy’s, only because he would lose his balance if he were to lean in any closer for a kiss. Jimmy tilted his head up, indicating that he was done with Thomas’ fingers- in his mouth at least.

Jimmy put his heels in Thomas’ sides, making his intentions blatantly clear. Not that they weren’t clear before. Thomas took the opportunity to press his lips to the blond man’s neck as he spread the wetness on his fingers. Jimmy’s breathing hitched in his throat when he pressed in one finger, gently. Thomas could feel his heartbeat thumping under the skin of his throat- and inside of him. A low moan escaped Jimmy’s mouth. Thomas slowed his stroking as he curled his finger.

"Oh-nyes-" Jimmy’s cock pulsed in his hand, and the sensation sent shivers through Thomas’ entire body. “Mmmore," he then mumbled. His good hand clasped around Thomas’ arm. Thomas did as he was told. He worked two fingers in and out slowly, until he was at the knuckle, and then repeated the curling motion he knew all too well. Jimmy arched off from the bed and hid his face in his hands.

"Jimmy?” Thomas stilled both hands when a whimper escaped the young man.

“Please don’t stop,” he shot back. The words came out a little garbled, but cohesive enough for him to get the message across. Jimmy dug his heels deeper in Thomas’ flesh to work himself down, riding Thomas’ fingers. He audibly suppressed a howl. Thomas watched him for a while. He probably wouldn’t get this opportunity too often. Maybe he would, with the way things stood now.

Thomas was forcefully dragged out of his admirations when Jimmy wrapped his nimble fingers around Thomas’ erection. His right hand worked perfectly fine on Thomas. “I want this,” Jimmy emphasized. He was very particular today. Thomas particularly liked it. He pulled his fingers out and leaned off the bed to rummage in his nightstand.

“I think I- I only have vaseline.” Jimmy gave him a blank face. Thomas decided it would do. He unscrewed the top and scooped out a generous amount. He started spreading it on himself when Jimmy swatted his hand off- yet again. He would address this issue, but not right now. Not while Jimmy was slicking up his cock. He managed to keep a semi-steady hand to return the favour. A little overconfident now, Thomas aligned himself and pressed the tip of his cock past the initial resistance. His breath quivered as the second ring of muscle clamped down on him. Jimmy winced painfully.

“I-I’m sorry,” Thomas muttered. He sat back on his thighs and smoothed his hands over Jimmy’s. “We don’t have to, we can-” Jimmy sat up and cut him off by pressing their lips together.

“Sit back,” he ordered Thomas. Thomas leaned back on one hand as Jimmy stroked him a handful of times. He sat up on his knees and then straddled Thomas. He lowered himself slowly on Thomas’ cock. Thomas watched in awe, and let Jimmy have his way with him. Jimmy was so soft, and so hot. The sensation turned his mind to blubber, and all that came in were flashes. Jimmy towering over him for once. Jimmy’s chest rising and falling quickly. Jimmy slowly rolling his hips until Thomas filled him to the hilt. With a groan, he dropped his head into the crook of Thomas’ shoulder. His body continued to move in a languid flow. Thomas had to suppress the urge to tip him back on the bed and breed him into the mattress. Jimmy sucked on his skin, wherever he could reach. Thomas let his hands glide down his sides as Jimmy rested his cheek on Thomas’ shoulder.

“Do me,” he sighed. The words needed a moment to sink in, but when they did, they sank deep. Jimmy let himself fall back on the bed and wrapped his legs around Thomas’ waist, keeping him close. Thomas took both of his hands and kissed them, the bandaged one first, before laying them above Jimmy’s head. With one hand on Jimmy’s chest and one firmly stroking his cock, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. The heat was blinding, and it felt like overtime he buried himself inside, his lights were getting knocked out. He couldn’t tell if Jimmy was being loud, what with the thunderous thudding of his own heartbeat in his ears. Whatever Jimmy did was perfect anyway. The muscles in his abdomen contracted perfectly with every thrust. With his plump lips slightly parted and his hair perfectly mussed, he’d never looked more handsome. He wasn’t born to be in service, but Thomas wouldn’t disclose that secret to him, not just yet.

Thomas could read on his face that Jimmy was elsewhere. His cheeks were flushed pink, as were his lips. He licked them absentmindedly, making them glisten, as he stared up into nothingness, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Please,” he whined. His left hand reflexively came off the bed and caught Thomas’ hair, fingertips scratching at the shorter parts. “Nnh- please.” His neck strained back as he rolled his hips up and into every thrust. His legs locked Thomas in place. “I want to watch you-“ He then said decidedly. "I want-" Jimmy wanted a lot of things.

Thomas didn’t need much more. He lowered himself, within reach of Jimmy’s lips, and slammed into him hard. He let Jimmy’s breath on his face, the small sounds he made, the fingers in his hair and the pressure around him sweep over. He felt the familiar heat spread from the pit of stomach into his thighs as Jimmy clenched around him. Thomas buried his face in the other man’s shoulder to muffle a shout. Jimmy did no such thing. He moaned without abandon, clamping a hand around the one Thomas still had wrapped around him. Thomas let go, and nestled his fingers in Jimmy’s hair instead.

Hmm,” he decided after a moment. Jimmy’s legs around him had relaxed. He felt bad for putting his full weight on the smaller man, but he felt like his limbs were suddenly much more affected by gravity than usual. Jimmy didn’t seem to mind. He played with his hair

“Definitely couldn’t do that on my own,” he muttered. Thomas didn’t have to see his face to know the kind of grin that was on it. A soft chuckle made his body shake. Thomas rolled to the side to allow Jimmy do breathe more freely. “And-“ he raised a finger “I learned a lot.”

Thomas laughed, perfectly exhausted. “I mostly learned that you’re a little tyke,” he retorted. Jimmy pulled the sheet over their thighs and smiled triumphantly.

“You said it. Hope you don’t mind sharing your bed tonight, because I’m not moving soon.” He stretched and winced a little, but closed his eyes. He took up about two thirds of the bed. Thomas couldn’t mind.