“It’s clean enough,” Jayne mumbled. He swatted clumsily at Simon’s hand, half-asleep. “I have become one with the glitter. It was bound to happen sometime. Just… leave me. Leave me toshine.”
“You’re going to get an infection or something,” Simon argued. The mechanics of body-safe glitter were a mystery to him, but he assumed that a foreign body—especially such a small foreign body—around the eye was a bad idea.
Jayne found his arm and swatted at it lazily a few times, never making substantial impact. “Let my reflex tears take care of it. It’s glitter. It’s no big deal.” Jayne’s voice turned mischievous, and he smirked. “I’ve had worse things in my eyes.”
Simon pulled the cotton pad away. “Gross.”
“Virgins don’t make babies, little brother.” With a yawn, Jayne rolled onto his side. He reached for the glass of water set on the bedside table that Simon had brought for him. “Although, to be fair, shooting into someone’s eye isn’t going to get you very far.”
Flighty, Simon abandoned the bed. He collected the bag of cotton pads and the makeup remover and hobbled for the door—one of his legs had fallen asleep, and it was slow to recover sensation. “I’m, um, I’m gonna… let you get to bed. You should be okay now.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you away.” Jayne snagged the glass and downed what was left without coming up for breath. When it was done, he set the glass back on the table a little too heavily. It made an unpleasantclack!that Simon was sure heralded a break. He checked from where he stood and was relieved to see the glass remained in one piece. “I’m sorry.”
“The glass didn’t break,” Simon chirped a little too brightly. “You’re fine.”
Jayne shot him a look. “I meant about the sex talk. I’m pretty fucking drunk right now, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Why hadn’t Jayne let him escape the bedroom when he’d had a chance? “It’s really okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” If Simon was lucky, Jayne wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. “I’m still a virgin so I’m a little, you know, squeamish, that’s all.”
“Liar,” Jayne cooed.
“Um?” Did Jayne know something Simon didn’t? Embarrassed, he remained where he stood.
“I mean, you’re going to be a liar soon, at least.” Jayne buried his freshly cleaned face against his pillows and laughed. “I’m starting to sober up, and I remember a little more now. I saw the way Evie’s dad looked at you today. He wouldn’t evenlookat me. Not like I wanted him to, at least. He’s going to fuck you senseless one day.”
There was a very good chance that Simon had fallen asleep while standing, because the world was making as much sense as a fever dream. He gawked at Jayne, who seemed more fascinated by his pillows than he was by Simon or what he’d just said.
“One day soon, I imagine,” Jayne elaborated. His face remained buried, and he took to gesturing with his hand in sweeping motions to get his point across. “Military men… they don’t mess around.”
“Harlow isn’t… isn’t like that,” Simon uttered. His hand found the doorknob, and he readied himself for a quick escape. “Harlow’s—”
“You don’t need to explain.” Jayne yawned and rolled over, snatching his blanket from the bottom of the bed with his feet and contorting his body until he had it in hand. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t make the same mistake I did unless it’s what youreallywant—unless you’re sure that you’re okay being alone once all is said and done.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” Simon murmured. His fingers slipped from the doorknob as his heart filled with melancholy.
“Then you know what to do,” Jayne declared. He wrapped himself up in his blankets and closed his eyes. “Wrap it before you let him tap it. Goodnight, Simon.”
“Night,” Simon whispered.
He turned off the light and left the room.
* * *
Dispirited,Simon killed the living room light and sank down amongst the blankets on the floor. There was no making sense of the melancholy inside him—it shimmered and changed shape, evading definition, like a beautiful thing plucked from an evil dream. Simon wished it wouldn’t make its home amongst the glitter and gold of his heart, but it did so anyway, either by virtue of their shared brilliance, or in pursuit of swallowing whole what beauty Simon had left.
“You wanna talk about it, Kid?” Harlow asked quietly as Simon settled.
Simon paused. A tear beaded in his eye. It fell, soaking into his pillow. “No.”
“I’m here to listen.”
“Thank you.”
The shapeless thing inside of him settled, curling around his heart like a cat might around a ball of yawn. It spared him its claws, although Simon was sure they were there.
