You're Perfect To Me (bxb one shot)

WARNING: CONTAINS AFTERMATH OF SELF HARM. DO NOT READ IF IT MIGHT TRIGGER.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Jamie whimpers, worry and fear washing over him as Tom cleans his new cuts.

“Shh, Jamie,” Tom coos, kissing the boy’s forehead, “It’s all right.” He gently rubs a damp washcloth over the self-inflicted injuries. With his hand shaking slightly, he pores a bit of iodine on the cuts, tinting the skin on Jamie’s forearm brown. After a few minutes, he finishes and quickly puts away the supplies, cleaning the blood from the floor and sink. Jamie begins to tremble, bouncing his foot, filled with nerves.

“Tom-” Jamie tries, his voice breaking, but Tom shushes him, throwing away the now-bloodstained paper towels.

“Don’t apologize, Jamie. I’m just happy I caught you,” he whispers, nuzzling the boy’s cheek with his nose, “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” Tom pulls Jamie up from the closed toilet seat he had been sitting on, and leads him into their bedroom. Sitting Jamie down, Tom picks some pajama pants and a wife beater for him to wear.

Keeping his tone gentle, but firm, Tom orders Jamie to put on the clothes as he leaves the room to get his own. The older boy shakes his head as he enters the room where he keeps his dresser. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. Tom had just arrived home from his shift at the local mechanic shop, when he discovered Jamie in the bathroom. The scene seemed to come out of a horror movie. Blood dripping from his forearm. Sweat coating his brow. The air thick with tension and fear. Tom knew Jamie hurt himself, once and awhile, but he kept his distance from those situations. Besides, Jamie always came and told him if he had. Tom never liked it, but he accepted the reason Jamie gave him...privacy. Tom picks some loose pajama pants and a wife beater, slipping them on, before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The atmosphere was suffocatingly dark. Brushing his teeth, Tom grabs some paper towel and cleans the floor and sink once more. Finishing up, he throws away the towel, and washes his mouth with water.

“You ready for bed-” Tom begins to ask as he enters the bedroom, but he stops himself. Jamie was standing in front of their long, vertical mirror holding his shirt in a tight fist by his side. Tom slowly walks toward him, wrapping his arms around Jamie’s slim waist. He leans his chin on the boy’s shoulder, staring into the broken blue eyes of Jamie’s reflection.

“Hey,” he whispers, pecking his cheek, his reflection doing the same.

“Jamie, you know what I see?” he continues, gently. Moving his hands down Jamie’s forearms before intertwining their fingers.

“An ugly, worthless, weak-” Jamie’s voice breaks, and he sniffles, tears welling in his eyes. Tom resists the urge to frown and keeps a gentle smile on his face.

“No. I see a beautiful, sweet, shy...broken boy,” he murmurs, before turning his head to whisper in Jamie’s ear, “that I love with every part of my being...that I want to understand how wonderful life really is.” Small tears escape Jamie’s eyes and drop off his chin.

“H-how could you love someone like me?” he asks, staring into Tom’s eyes through the mirror.

“You’re perfect, Jamie,” Tom whispers, pecking Jamie’s ear, “You’re perfect to me.” Never losing the eye contact, Tom slowly lifts Jamie’s left arm where all of the cuts, old and new resided. Ever so gently, he left feather light kisses down the injured arm, his lips touching every cut and scar.

“You’re too good to me, Tom,” Jamie mumbles, but a ghost of a smile appears on his lips as Tom turns him away from the mirror and kisses his nose. Jamie allows himself to be pulled to bed, he and Tom entangling themselves in the blankets. Jamie scoots closer and rests his head on Tom’s shoulder. Tom’s fingers find Jamie’s hair, tentatively pulling at the tangles.

“It’s getting late, Jamie,” Tom murmurs, keeping up his movements. Jamie feels his eyes slide shut as Tom begins to hum a slow, unknown melody. Jamie tries to say ‘I love you’ but all that comes out are tired, incoherent words. Tom leans his head down, moving his hand to Jamie’s back to press his lips to his soft, brown hair. Jamie feels Tom’s mouth form a smile.

“I love you, too, angel,” Tom chuckles, warm breath hitting Jamie’s scalp. Sleep overcomes the younger boy and soon, soft snores arise from his mouth. Tom watches his boyfriend for a few minutes, enjoying the view as the stress and worry leaves his features. A yawn escapes Tom’s lips and he surrenders to sleep, leaving his head on top of Jamie’s.