gasoline-soaked boy

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Jason dropped out of college, Leo's there to help get him back on his feet

The building is surprisingly decent, considering how much Leo warned him about the stains and stink and suspicious neighbors who snuck around at night with strident steps

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The building is surprisingly decent, considering how much Leo warned him about the stains and stink and suspicious neighbors who snuck around at night with strident steps.

The fourth floor of the apartment building is a classic nondescript sort of thing; the only charm imbued in the hotel look-alike is the spider plant someone put in the window above the stairs. It's overgrown, leaves hitting Jason on the way up; a tendril of green bright against the drab spruce wood-colored walls and chipped black rails.

After scrolling through hundreds of messages between him and Leo, Jason confirms that apartment unit 408 does indeed belong to one Leo Valdez. Standing in front of the door, Jason steels himself to knock, dredging up the confidence to face his friend of god knows how many years.

The "0" of the 408 is broken in half, making for a four-backwards-"C"-eight sign; the cheap plastic painted to look like bona fide brass one breeze away from falling off. Jason assumes it's pure will that keeps the numbers on, and knocks gently, careful to not be the person who jeopardizes a security deposit on a visit.

Whatever sounds come from inside are muffled, but Jason can make out a "Fuck" and some rustling before the door is opened a crack to reveal half of Leo's face. It's streaked with... something, black smudged across his golden brown skin. Leo's eyes widen, lighting up.

"Jason! My man. Just give me a moment."

The door shuts, leaving Jason in a nearly empty hallway. An older woman exits her apartment, sighing while hefting a basket of laundry. Her face is tight with exhaustion, but she speaks into the phone pinched between her ear and shoulder in rapid-fire Spanish. Jason shoots her a smile he hopes is kind. She smiles back, half-hearted, before walking past him, re-engaging in her conversation. She disappears down the stairs, spider plant swallowing her retreat.

Jason hardly thought he looked intimidating. His blue jeans are baggy, deep purple hoodie masking the graphic T-shirt he half-tucked into them. His plain black running shoes shield his white socks from the fading carpet. He's grown out his hair from its buzz cut; longer, albeit messy, strands softening the harsh lines of his face and just long enough for him to run his fingers through. His wire-frame glasses sit on top of his nose, the ones Piper insisted made him look like an IT clerk.

He was just... Jason. Plain, uniform, easy to lose in a crowd.

His phone buzzes.

sry for the wait. u can come in now :-)

Jason fights a smile and loses. Leo loves to give his smileys noses.

He grabs the handles of his red duffel and opens the door.

The first thing he notices is Leo in the kitchen, the countertop jutting out from the wall to create a sort of separation in the open space. He's washing a plate, waving his soap-sudded hand from his spot at the sink, face smudge-free.

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