"Yeah, then we'll both be suffering," Eddie groused, even as he shifted closer until they were pressed shoulder to shoulder. Just like he always did, Eddie tensed under that the weight of Jamie's hand, not because he didn't like it, or even because it made him nervous to be doing that stuff in the cafeteria where any asshole could see, but because it always startled him how much he liked it. It was just a hand on his knee. Through clothes, even. It shouldn't have felt so good or so scandalous.

Picking up his spoon, Eddie busied himself with his ice cream, his other hand drifting under the table to cover Jamie's. It was still all jittery fingers and sweating palms, but Jamie didn't seem to mind.