Work Text:
He’s sipping on a bottle of Rodds (matcha today; it was the first one in the fridge when he found them after 20 minutes of groping around) when it happens.
He feels the presence at his side before a chair is pulled up and there’s a voice close to his ear.
“Yer been wearing ya glasses a lot lately, Jimbo.”
James pretends he doesn’t flinch a little, feeling Will’s thumbs in between his shoulder blades, his heart aching at how close the touch is towards it.
“So what? Gettin’ ready to call me Four Eyes now or somethin’?”
“No, jus’ noticed the other day. Make ya look handsome and shit.”
He also pretends that isn’t like a barb to his heart or makes his tear ducts throb as the stinging pain behind them rears its head with a vengeance.
“Tell that to my promoter then, Lenney. I need the tickets.”
“Aye, nah, that touring stuff’s all yours to deal with.”
“Can’t even help me with my job, bit of a letdown mate.”
“Ey, I help yous with your job plenty. I put your ugly mug on this channel don’t I?”
He finally looks up at Will, even if he’s more a blur than his best friend, the ringing bells making his head ache the longer he tries to focus.
“So am I ugly or handsome today, Will? Your indecisiveness is really showing.”
“Fuck off, you smug git.”
It’s a shame that he can’t see the curl of Will’s lips anymore before Ieuan calls them back for filming.