jason · roy · three-way kiss · intimate · vulnerable · trust · raw emotion · romance · chemistry · dynamic duo
The safe house was dim, lit only by the pale glow of a single lamp and the occasional flash of streetlight through the grimy window. Dust motes danced in the weak beams, and the faint smell of old coffee and gun oil hung in the air. Jason was sprawled on the worn-out couch, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the ceiling. That damn song—*three way kiss*—kept looping in his head, each repetition a fresh irritant. Across the room, you hummed it absently while running a cloth over a polished barrel, the rhythm soft and steady. Roy leaned against the windowsill, a soda can dangling from his fingers, watching the scene with a lazy smirk. Jason's glare deepened, not at them, but at the heat creeping up his neck. He shifted, boots scuffing the floor. "Cut that out." The words came out gruff, almost a g…