"Good morning," Blair whispers eventually, because Jim's sore throat is the perfect excuse for his complete inability to utter a single, solitary word and so he isn't going to. Ever.
Blair sounds -- Jim would need to make a list, there are so many different signals and vibes and emotions in those two words. Was it a question, an assurance, or force of habit? God, throw me a bone, Chief; you just got to play with mine.
"Uh..." He swallows and yeah, his throat hurts but it's feeling better, just like all of him is noticing a marked improvement. Fever broken? Check. Snot levels dropping? Check. Mind-blowing orgasm with miraculous sinus-clearing qualities taken care of? Check.
Blair makes an encouraging murmur.
"Uh," Jim says desperately.
Blair's fluent in many languages (he's told Jim that more than once and added 'including the language of love' looking too much as if he really thinks that's true for Jim to be able to resist delivering a well-deserved noogie). Jim decides Blair can decipher a simple 'uh' even wearing spunk-soaked PJs.
no subject
Blair sounds -- Jim would need to make a list, there are so many different signals and vibes and emotions in those two words. Was it a question, an assurance, or force of habit? God, throw me a bone, Chief; you just got to play with mine.
"Uh..." He swallows and yeah, his throat hurts but it's feeling better, just like all of him is noticing a marked improvement. Fever broken? Check. Snot levels dropping? Check. Mind-blowing orgasm with miraculous sinus-clearing qualities taken care of? Check.
Blair makes an encouraging murmur.
"Uh," Jim says desperately.
Blair's fluent in many languages (he's told Jim that more than once and added 'including the language of love' looking too much as if he really thinks that's true for Jim to be able to resist delivering a well-deserved noogie). Jim decides Blair can decipher a simple 'uh' even wearing spunk-soaked PJs.