They were, Jay quickly learned, only three tube stops away from his flat in Camden. At mid-morning the underground was merely “crowded” instead of “fucking inhumane”; Jay backed up against the far doors of the car, and Moran positioned himself between Jay and the other passengers. It was too loud to exchange more than a few words, so they rode in silence.
Jay knotted his fingers in the front of Moran’s shirt and relaxed into the warmth of the hand that rested gently on the back of his neck, thumb stroking idly behind his ear.
He was on autopilot as they made their way up out of Camden Town station, and only noticed a few minutes in that he wasn’t on his usual route back to the flat at all. Instead, they’d arrived at the bubble tea shop he frequented with near-obsessive regularity.
Well, fuck it. He needed caffeine anyway.
Subscribe to continue reading
Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.