Living on Reflex:

A collaborative effort by Ree and Hani.

Things to know before reading: Please don’t take any of this seriously. This is a comedy; therefore, some things will be exaggerated, parodied, or pulled out of our asses in general. That said, please enjoy.

Fuck count: 71

1.

Taylor held one soggy McDonald’s french fry between his thumb and forefinger with a disdainful sigh. “Reese,” he muttered, glancing up at the boy across from him. “When did we sink this low?”

Sparing a quick look at his friend, Reese allowed his ‘masterpiece’ of McFlurry and fries to sit for a moment, carefully folding his hands across the countertop as he spoke, “If memory serves – which it usually doesn’t – it was when we decided that paying the rent was more important than buying groceries.” His eyebrows bunched together thoughtfully. “But I get a paycheck tomorrow, so we can at least buy more bread for toast.”

With a faint expression of disgust, Taylor wrinkeld his nose and watched as his seemingly carefree roommate smashed his last fry into the McFlurry and tossed the remains of their breakfast into the nearest trash can. He’d never understand why Reese enjoyed ice cream and fried potatoes together, and, frankly, he never wanted to. Snagging his backpack from the chair next to him, he slung it over his shoulder and followed his roommate out to their car, the Reese-mobile.

Taylor preferred to call it the deathtrap or old unfaithful, seeing as it wasn’t much of an anything-mobile anymore, and he feared tearing the door off every time he climbed inside. The car was a flimsy, rust colored ‘86 Honda Accord that Reese had bought off his parents a few years back, not to mention the only thing they could afford. Taylor often commented that it wasn’t worth the gas they put in it.

“You know what I think, Tay?” Reese asked in a casual tone as he revved the engine (it took a few minutes for it to get started). “I think we’re in a rut.”

“Oh, right,” Taylor muttered, rolling his eyes. “A rut. That’s it, definitely.”

“Shut up,” the blond defended himself heatedly. “I seriously think that’s our problem! We should go out and do something. Like see a movie, you know?”

“Zoom in on my empty wallet,” Taylor snorted and blew his bangs out of his eyes.

Reese scowled, shifting gears once the engine finally started. “Shut up, you crazy Rent freak.”

“Speaking of Rent, we should see a play!”

“Right,” he grumbled as he pulled into the street. “Because that’s so much more affordable than a movie.”

Taylor slitted his blue eyes in a glare. “Fuck you,” he hissed. “I like plays.”

“Look,” Reese attempted a compromise, “why don’t we just sneak into that putt putt course later and throw rocks at people?”

“Because last time we did that, some old chick chased us to the 16th hole with her putter,” Taylor growled, pointing an accusing finger. “My lungs can’t take that shit, man. I’m lazy.”

“You’re pathetic, Tay,” Reese said with a distinct frown. “Really pathetic.”

“Shut up.” Glaring for all he was worth, Taylor flipped him off and played with his unbuckled seatbelt with the other hand. “I’m not pathetic; I’m a gamer. There’s a huge difference.”

“You and your stupid gaming habits are what got us into this rut in the first place,” Reese growled scathingly. “Why did you need a handheld Playstation, of all things? We could have paid the water bills with that money.” He screeched to a halt as the light turned red, sending Taylor flying into the dashboard.

“Fucking hell, Reese! Is my face broken?” Taylor yelled as he examined his face in the dirty rearview mirror. “Learn to drive!”

“Wear your seatbelt, fuckhead,” Reese snorted and threw the car into gear to tear around the corner at record speed.

“Oh my fucking god,” hissed Taylor dramatically as he covered his face. “If you broke my nose, I’m gonna kill you!”

“Shut up, would you?” He searched his memory desperately for a story to make Taylor’s pain seem inconsequential. “Remember that time I broke my nose in marching band, when I collided with that slutty tuba player and she fell on me? Yeah, that sucked, but you fucking know what? I stayed for the rest of practice. So if I can do that, you can survive a freaking 15 minute ride back to the apartment.”

Taylor stared.

Reese glanced at him nervously. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“You’re a retard, you know that?” Taylor said, holding back a laugh. “Jesus, I can’t believe you did that!”

“Whatever.” Reese cackled and swerved the car abruptly, sending Taylor flying against the car door.

“Watch it, would you!?” he hissed.

Reese only grinned. “What did I say about wearing your seatbelt? Maybe you’ll listen to me from now on.”

“What are you, my fucking mother?” Taylor growled and moodily buckled his seatbelt, sinking down in his seat, to stare out the window. Reese didn’t say anything, but he did speed the rest of the way home, making it to the apartment in a record-breaking eight and a half minutes.

“Go inside and get some ice, Tay,” he ordered, jerked the parking break into place, and hopped out of the car. The door wobbled uncertainly, but thankfully didn’t fall off. He made a mental note to put some duct tape on it later.

“Ice? We don’t have ice, Reese,” Taylor said, gesturing wildly with his hands as he climbed out of the car. “The freezer is broken.” Taylor slammed the door shut irritably, not stopping to think about damage. Reese winced.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding,” Reese noted with some relief after studying Taylor’s face with squinty eyes. “I think you’ll be fine.”

Taylor fished a stick of gum out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth, smacking it obnoxiously as he asked, “What time do you have class? I need a ride to work in a few hours.”

Shrugging, Reese sidesteped him and unlocked the door to the apartment. “I have Psychology at like, noon,” he said, opening the door. “When do you have—” The phone rang, cutting him off. Taylor shoved him out of the doorway and gracelessly dove for it.

“It’s for me!” he shrieked.

“Holy Jesus!” Reese stumbled out of the way, tripping on a crate of Nintendo magazines, and ended up sprawled spread eagle in the middle of the floor. “Will you watch what you’re doing, Tay!?”

“Maybe if you learn to drive,” Taylor called back as he ripped the phone excitedly from its cradle. “Hello?”

Reese slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. “Who is it?” he asked and awkwardly attempted to comb his hair out of his eyes. “Fucking curly hair,” he muttered under his breath. “Never stays down.”

“None of your business!” Taylor yelled.

“C’mon, Tay!” Reese whined. “Technically it’s my phone, so I have the right to know.”

Smirking, Taylor pulled the receiver away from his mouth and said, “No, technically it’s your parents’ phone, and I don’t see them here, so fuck you.” He disappeared into the tiny kitchenette and propped open the refrigerator door, stretching the phone cord taut across the room.

Reese shook his head and used the couch to pull himself to his feet. “Whatever, bitch,” he said jokingly. “We both know that it’s your boyfriend.”

Immediately, a tupperware dish full of something unpleasant smelling and green hurtled toward Reese, thrown viciously by Taylor. Reese managed to step to the side at the last second, letting the dish fly out the open door and into the parking lot.

“Fuck you dammit Reese I’m straight!” Taylor’s heated reply bled into one long, angry sentence. “You’re the only fucking homosexual around here!”

Reese smirked and removed his shoes, flopping onto the couch while he attempted to listen in on Taylor’s conversation. All he could make out was the sound of a can of something – probably beer – opening, accompanied by Taylor’s muffled responses to the person on the other line. He frowned and suffered through a brief mental battle with his conscience.

In the end, his good old friend Curiosity won, and he slunk into the bedroom to eavesdrop from the other phone. He held his breath and tilted the receiver away from his mouth, concentrating on the faded, slightly crackled voices on the line.

“You’re awesome, Tay. I love you,” said an unfamiliar, distinctly masculine voice. “When do you get off work?”

“Holy fuck!” Reese yelped and dropped the phone.

Honestly, he couldn’t have stopped himself from screaming into the receiver if he’d tried. It was just a reflex. He managed to bring it back up to his ear in time to catch, “I’ll see you later, I’ve gotta go beat the snot out of my fuckface roommate,” and the foreboding beeps of a dialtone. Diving under the bed, he held his breath and waited for Taylor to rage into the room.

It didn’t take long.

“Reese!” Taylor blew into the room like a storm. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, listening in on my private telephone conversations!?”

After a split second decision, Reese quipped, “Spying, obviously!” And reached out to snag Taylor’s ankle.

“Shit!” Taylor yelped as he hit the floor. Hard. Trying not to cackle in repressed, evil glee, Reese took advantage of Taylor’s dazed state, crawled out from under the bed, and fled the room. In fact, he decided that it would probably be better if he fled the apartment altogether, becase Taylor could get violent sometimes. Like, broken-nose-and-a-black-eye kind of violent. Keeping this in mind, he dashed down the stairs and made it all the way to the car before he realized his fatal mistake. He turned back, cringing, to gaze towards the apartment.

“Forgetting something?” Taylor was leaning against the railing, pinching Reese’s car keys between his thumb and forefinger.

“Well, fuck,” Reese cursed through his teeth. In an attempt to distract Taylor, he offered an apologetic smile while mentally searching for an escape route.

“Gladly.” Taylor raised his eyebrows in a lewd manner.

“You know, you could have just told me you swung that way.” He glanced to the left. A wall. No go. The right? A playground. Yeah, right. The street was behind him. He was so fucked. Royally fucked. Proper fucked, even.

“Whatever,” Tay mumbled dismissively. “Back to the subject at hand. Get your fucking ass up here so I can beat you!”

“Yeah, right, and let you rape me?” Reese backed up until his back was against the Reese-mobile, figuring that he could at least hide in the car and play the door lock game with Taylor long enough for him to calm down.

“You can’t rape the willing,” Taylor said, grinning.

Reese went for his last resort. “Wouldn’t your boyfriend get jealous?”

“Fuck you,” Taylor hissed with a rapidly darkening expression. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

...His very stupid last resort. “Uhh, you can’t kill me yet! I have to drive you to work!”

“I can kill you and drive myself to work.”

“Not legally, you can’t,” he cried out desperately.

Taylor paused, both eyebrows bent in confusement. “Wait, you mean I can’t kill you legally, or I can’t drive legally?”

“Um, both,” Reese said, greatly relieved to find that Taylor was calming down.

“There should be a law allowing a guy to kill his fucktard best friend,” grumbled Taylor with a suspiciously pouty expression.

“But there isn’t,” Reese said, grinning, and yanked the car door open to duck inside. Thank God he had forgotten to lock it before. He slammed his fist down on the ‘lock’ button and grinned viciously at Taylor through the window.

“You evasive whore!” Taylor shrieked, launching himself out of the apartment and against the car. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re going to get your lazy ass out of that car and drive me to work! Right now!”

Reese stuck his tongue out.

Taylor threw a fit.

“I’ll show you, bitch!” Ignoring the fact that he had the keys clutched in his hands, he yanked at the car door with the intention of scaring him out. Unfortunately, he forgot to factor the car’s condition into the equation, and ended up ripping the door off.

Reese’s jaw dropped in anger and disbelief. “Holy fucking shit, I can’t belive you just did that!”

“Ehhh.” Taylor lowered it to the ground with red cheeks and a sheepish grin. “It was a piece of crap anyway, right?’

Furious, Reese climbed out the door – well, it was a hole now – and threw his arms out in frustration. “How the fuck are we going to replace that, you ass!?”

“With duct tape, duh,” Taylor said, stepping carefully over the door on his way back into the apartment. “Now, you tape the door back on, and I’ll get ready for work.” He tossed Reese a smug look over his shoulder. “Consider us officially even.”

-

After about fifteen minutes of wrestling with a roll of duct tape, Reese had managed to get the door reattached, and Taylor had managed to unearth his uniform from beneath the massive pile of video games and discarded guidebooks decorating his bedroom floor. He headed down the stairs, flinging Reese’s psychology book at his head – he still wasn’t quite over the whole invasion of privacy thing – and tucked his hat under his arm.

“Christ,” Reese muttered, deflecting then barely catching the book, and did a double-take at Taylor’s outfit. He couldn’t resist a grin. “Mexican, eh? What happened to that indie coffee shop?”

Taylor simply scowled. “Didn’t I tell you? They fired me.” He paused, pursing his lips in anger, and added, “Facists.”

“Right,” muttered Reese, subtly looking his roommate up and down. “Nice costume.”

Faux primly, Taylor tucked his greasy hair behind his ears. “It’s a uniform, ass.”

“Right. I think you’re a little too white for a mariachi outfit, Tay,” Reese joked, heading out to the car with Taylor in tow. “Maybe you should look for a new job. You’d make a nice stripper.”

“Shut up and drive.” Taylor slid into the car. “We might be even, but that doesn’t mean that I ... uh.” Furrowing his eyebrows, he bit his lip and searched for the right words. “It doesn’t mean that I can’t still be pissed off at you. Or something.”

Reese tossed his psychology book into the back seat and slid into his place behind the wheel. “We have some time,” he noted casually, tapping the clock with his fingertips. “Wanna get some coffee?”

Taylor stared at him dubiously. “Are you hitting on me?”

“You wish,” Reese snorted, then revved the engine and flipped the radio on full blast, grinning at the annoyed look on his roommate’s face. “Don’t you love this song?”

“Fucking no.” Taylor snapped the song off irritably. “And no coffee, either,” he growled. “Just drive. We can’t afford crap like that, remember?”

Reese’s expression faltered briefly. “Right. And we’ve gotta pay for the car repairs, too.”

A mildly guilty look graced Taylor’s face at Reese’s expression. “Okay,” he muttered sourly and flipped the radio back on. “Maybe I could handle a little bit of shitty music.”

“It’s not shitty,” Reese said with a scowl and peeled dangerously out of the driveway, driving more carelessly than usual, thanks to his rapidly developing bad mood.

“Holy God!” Taylor pasted himself to the side of the car, looking faintly green. “Can’t you slow down a little?”

The other boy pouted and purposely ignored the request. “If you don’t have time for coffee with me, then you don’t have time for anything else.”

“I seriously think you have time for a fucking red light!”
“Nope.” He sped up instead. “Five dollars says I can have you there in three and a half minutes.”

“Five dollars says you can have me there in a stretcher on an oxygen tank if you keep driving like this!”

Reese abruptly screeched the car to a halt, mere inches away from the white line of the intersection, and gave Taylor his best shit eating grin. “Really?”

“Fuck no!” he yelled. “I don’t even have five dollars!”

“Oh. In that case, fuck you.” Grumpily, Reese tossed the car into gear and prepared to screech into the flow of traffic, but the engine chose just that time to stall out. A look of horror spanned across Taylor’s face.

“Fucking no way!” Taylor pounded his fists against the dashboard, causing the glove compartment to click open. Papers, half-eaten granola bars, and various other unrecognizable items flew out of the offending storage space.

Reese snorted.

“Fuck you, Reese!” Taylor balled up his fist, punching Reese’s shoulder with as much force as he could muster. “I can’t be late again! I’ll lose my job. Fucking facists. Fucking rebushlicans!”

“Dude, Tay,” Reese said with a helpess expression, “you can’t blame the republicans for everything...”

“Fucking watch me.” Taylor crossed his arms over his chest, sulking shamelessly.

“An elephant could sit on that lip,” Reese quipped with a smirk and attempted to restart the car, but the gears only grinded excruciatingly, refusing to start.

“You did this on purpose,” Taylor said, watching Reese with dark, hateful eyes. “You’re a fucking witch, aren’t you? You got pissed because I wouldn’t go for a coffee with you, and you put a curse on me. Spiteful bastard.”

Reese’s smirk morphed into a grin as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Revenge was sweet. “Get out of the car and push.”

“Push?” Taylor blanched and clutched his seatbelt, shaking his head viciously. “No way, man! I have asthma!”

“Don’t be such a fucking pansy,” Reese muttered, then paused to lean out the window and curse at the car behind them, “Just go the fuck around us!”

Dramatically, Taylor flung the door open, ignoring the dangerous squeal of metal on metal. “You fucking owe me,” he said and hurled his sombrero through the window. “Dick.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reese said, trying to look contrite, but he was grinning. He pointed to a nearby gas station. “Just push us into that parking lot.”

“Your mom is a parking lot,” Taylor grumbled, throwing his weight against the car. “I’m getting dirt all over my uniform,” he complained noisily.

“You’re getting fired anyway. Quit bitching.”

Under his breath, Taylor hissed, “Fucking witch, that’s what you are,” and pushed wish all his strength. The car rolled around the corner and into the parking lot, where Taylor leaned against the trunk and unbottoned the front of his uniform in relief. “Christ.”

“Maybe if you’re nice to me, I’ll buy you a burger,” Reese said, opening the door to step outside.

“Yeah, let’s all mock the vegetarian. You know, that stopped being funny around the fifteen hundredth time.” Taylor draped his jacket over the top of the car, wearing his trademark scowl.

“You’re crazy. It gets funnier each time I bring it up.” Reese hoisted himself onto the trunk and leaned against the window, head tilted back to stare at the sky with squinty eyes. “It’s like, six hundred degrees.”

“Your mom is like six hundred degrees,” Taylor grunted.

“Now, see, that joke is tired,” Reese said, attempting to relax despite the fact that the car paint was searing his skin. “Get some new fucking material and stop sulking. So you’re going to lose your job and we have to eat McDonald’s for awhile longer. Big deal. Look on the bright side,” he continued, suddenly grinning, “you get to spend a lovely day with your favorite person.”

“Greg Cipes is here?” The taller boy feigned interest.

“Cute,” Reese muttered with a scowl.

“Of course I am. It’s the freckles.” Taylor finally broke into a grin. “Okay, so, here’s the deal. I’m going to forgive you, because you’re buying me lunch today, and I’m feeling expensive.”

“Fuck you, Taylor!” Reese hissed and jumped off the car, jabbing Taylor with his forefinger. “You know I’m broke!”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I also know all about that ‘emergency only’ credit card that your parents gave you. Come on,” he coaxed, tugging at Reese’s shirt sleeve. “There’s a vegan place somewhere around here. I’m fucking hungry.”

“I’m not eating that shit! You couldn’t pay me to eat that tofu stuff.”

“Bitch, please.” Taylor stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not wasting this trendy ensemble at a slaughter house.”

“Trendy?” He slid away from Taylor to lean against the car. “Hate to break it to you, but you pretty much look retarded.”

“Ouch, my soul,” Taylor snorted in dismissal and grabbed Reese, hauling him away from the vehicle and down the street. “You can call someone to tow old unfaithful later. It’s not like anyone’s going to steal it.”

“Quiet!” Reese hushed his roommate. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Oh, great,” Taylor grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Not only does it have a name, but now you’ve given it a sex. You’re pathetic. It’s a car, Reesey.”

“What about Victor?” Reese asked and fought down a grin.

“What about Victor?” snapped Taylor irritably. “He’s got human attributes!” Finally releasing Reese’s arm, he tucked his hands into his pockets and scanned the street for his restaurant of choice.

“He’s a Playstation, Tay.”

“You admit that he’s a he,” Taylor said with a pointed look.

“You should be a subject in my psyche class.” Reese sighed as he ran his fingers through his curly blond hair. “You’re fucking insane.”

Taylor laughed. “And that would make you?”

“In danger, probably,” admitted Reese, grinning.

“Now you’ve hurt my feelings. You have to buy me some chocolate cake.”

“How can you even call that shit cake? If it doesn’t have eggs or milk, it’s not a fucking cake.”

“It’s a cake if I say it’s a cake.” Taylor paused, pointing to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street a ways. “I think that’s the place.”

“I don’t understand how you always manage to find these places.” Reese hitched up his jeans, frowning, “I mean, seriously... that place is raunchy, but I’ll bet the food is going to cost me sixty bucks.”

Taylor snorted, “More than that, if I can help it!”

“You’re a fucking bottomless pit.”

“And your parents are rich. We make a perfect couple.”

They both froze at his offhand statement. Reese coughed.

“Uh. Awkward.”

“Fuck you, you know what I meant.” Taylor crammed his hands deeper into his pockets, his longish hair curtaining his face to cover the blush that had spread across his cheeks. He slunk through the door, not pausing to wait for his roommate.

Reese sprung after him, a pompous grin threatening to crack his face in half, “So,” he sat at a table, prepared to lord Taylor’s sudden embarrassment over him, “you ready to tell me who was on the phone?”

“It was my fucking cousin, you nosy bastard.” Taylor shoved a menu at him, his scowl back in place. “Jesus Christ.”

“Dude, your cousin? I can accept you being gay, but...don’t you think that’s a little much?”

“You’re an ass and I hate you,” Taylor declared sulkily.

The sarcastic words ‘I love you too’ were on the tip of Reese’s tongue, but he tactfully swallowed them before Taylor could take them the wrong way and land them in another awkward silence. “Yeah, me too.” Coughing, he held up his hand to wave a waiter their way. “Can I get some water over here?”

A tall waiter with messy brown hair eventually responded and slowly sauntered over to the table. Pulling a pen out from behind his ear, he fished his notepad out of the apron slung dangerously low on his hips and gave them a decidedly bored look. “My name is Eli and I’ll be your server for the day,” he drawled in a neutral tone. “Can I get you some drinks to start off with?”

Reese opened his mouth to order, but Taylor beat him to it, offering up a sly grin as he asked, “Can I get some spiritmint tea?”

Returning the smile, Eli scribbled it down and said, “Of course. It’s my favorite drink here.”

“Give me a break,” Reese muttered, grumpily resting his cheek on his fist with his elbow planted rudely on the table.

“Sorry, we don’t serve those,” quipped the waiter.

Reese snorted. “Very funny.”

“Well, I thought it was,” Taylor said with a smirk.

“Whatever. Can I have some milk or something?”

The waiter stared at him with wide, horrified green eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“No.” Reese blinked in confusion. “What, do you not have that or something?”

Taylor slapped his forehead in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “Of course they don’t, you fucking retard! This is a vegan place!”

“So what?”

“So milk is a fucking dairy product.”

Reese tapped his chin thoughtfully. “So…”

“So you’re a disgusting, hormone-filled specimen of nastiness,” the waiter finished for him with a scowl.

“Exactly!” Taylor crowed triumphantly. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

Reese frowned, sinking lower into his seat. “Then get me an acceptable drink, you elitist whore.”

Taylor shot the waiter a ‘forgive-him-he-doesn’t-get-out-much’ look. “Ignore him.”

Eli waved his notepad in a dismissive fashion, resting his hip against the table. “You guys know what you want to eat, or should I come back?”

“Well...” Taylor flipped through the menu idly, dragging the word out for an impossibly long amount of time as he searched the contents. “What do you suggest?”

Reese chose that moment to stand, his chair clattering over at the sudden motion, and demanded in a loud tone, “Where’s the bathroom?” Then added under his breath, “Because I think I’m going to puke.”

Eli gestured vaguely. “S’down the hall.” He eyed Reese’s leather flip-flops with distaste. “Take your time, buddy.”

The blond boy grunted, pausing to right the chair, and stormed away from the table.

“Uh, anyway.” Taylor blinked after his friend.

“Yeah.” Eli slid into the abandoned seat after glancing around for his manager. “So, you guys together?” he questioned.

“What?” Taylor sputtered. “No! He’s straight- we just... I mean, we’re just friends.”

“Right.” Eli rested his cheek against his hand, smirking. “Does he know about you?”

“Me? What?” Taylor gave him a horrified, wide-eyed stare. “I’m not gay, if that’s what you mean... well, you know, there was that one time, but I was drunk... and I mean, I keep my options open and all, but I totally dig chicks!”

Eli glanced at him with steady, half-lidded eyes. “Hm.” A pause. “All right,” he said and e rose to his feet, still smirking. “I like the Ghandi bowl, if you’re still wondering.”

“... Yeah.” Taylor’s cheeks now matched his bright red hair. “Uh, I guess I’ll get that, then... and just get Reese one of those herbal sodas and, like, some tempeh. He can prob’ly handle that.”

“Will do.” He scribbled the order out on his pad of paper. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Uh...” Taylor attempted, once again, to disappear underneath his hair. “Taylor.”

“All right, Taylor.” The green-eyed boy’s voice was dripping with amusement. “Drinks’ll be out in a few minutes.”

The waiter disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Taylor to his embarrassment. Reese returned a moment later.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, dropping into the seat across from him.

“What?” Taylor shuffled the salt and pepper shakers in a lame attempt to hide his discomfort. “Nothing. I ordered for you.”

“This had better not suck, or you’ll never hear the end of it.” Reese paused to scowl at Eli as he returned with the drinks, and continued to burn holes into his back until he was out of sight. “That guy is a freak. We’re not leaving a tip.”

“What?” Taylor squeaked. “We have to leave a tip!”

Reese shot him a look. “Why?” He narrowed his eyes. “He’s rude, Tay.”

“Fuck you, he’s really nice,” protested Taylor, blushing.

The gray-eyed boy sighed, “We should have just gone for coffee.”

Taylor grunted noncommitally and took a sip of his tea. “I like this place.”

“I don’t,” Reese said with a dramatic scowl. “In fact, I think we should leave. Right now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll buy you something else, but we’re leaving.” He flagged Eli down with an irritated wave. “Hey, we have to leave. Cancel the food and bring me the tab.”

Taylor pressed his palms against his eyelids, mortified. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine.” The messy-haired boy shrugged, sparing Reese a venomous look as he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his apron, grappling for his notepad. “I’ll be right back,” he said, smiled briefly at Taylor, and turned his back on them to disappear into a far corner of the restaurant.

“Fucking prick,” Reese hissed at his back.

Taylor shot him a spiteful glare. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

He narrowed his eyes in a steely blue glare. “I know. Stop being an asshole to our waiter.”

“He was an asshole to me first!” Reese declared and slammed his fist down onto the table for emphasis. The water glasses jumped and would have spilled over, had it not been for a well-trained hand steadying them with two fingers as its owner dropped the check onto the table.

“There you go,” Eli said smoothly and carefully avoided looking at Reese. His eyes focused on Taylor’s blue ones, a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks,” Taylor said. When Reese glared and opened his mouth to say something – probably insulting and definitely vulgar – Tay promptly stomped on his foot, discouraging any further comments.

Nodding, Eli murmured, “Have a nice day,” and sauntered away to another table, absently adjusting the knot of his apron.

“You bitch!” Reese hollered and winced in pain as he reached down to rub his sore, possibly bleeding foot. “What the hell possessed you to do that? I’m only in sandals!”

“Serves you right for wearing dead cows,” Taylor sniffed. Looking down, he noticed that Eli had placed the check in front of him instead of Reese, and was about to slide it over to him when he saw a note scribbled hastily at the bottom.

It was Eli’s phone number, accented with a small heart and the words, ‘Call me.’

Taylor sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Reese’s head swiveled to squint at his friend, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Did that bastard overcharge us or something?”

“Um, no.” Discreetly, he tried to stuff the check into his pocket without Reese noticing. “It’s fine.”

The blond rolled his eyes. “Give me the check, Taylor. It’s okay if he did – I’ll straighten his ass out.”

Taylor almost laughed at the irony. “I don’t think that would help.”

“Tay, just give me the fucking check. You’re really pissing me off.”

“No! I don’t want to!”

“You’re acting like a fucking baby.” Reese rolled his eyes and leaned across the table, practically towering over Taylor as he grabbed his wrists and attempted to shake the paper free. “Give it, we have to pay!”

“No! It’s—oh shit!” Taylor watched in horror as the check floated onto the table, crumpled but legible, and he winced at Reese’s loud shout of indignancy.

“Tell me that isn’t what I fucking think it is!”

“It isn’t what you fucking think it is,” Taylor recited obediently, if not somewhat sarcastically.

“You liar!” With the check in one hand, Reese raked his fingers through his hair with the other and fumed, “I can’t believe he did that! What a fucking arrogant, pompous bastard!”

“It’s not like you care.” Snorting, Taylor slumped against the back of his chair and concentrated very hard on the droplets of water sliding down the glasses on their table.

“Maybe I do,” Reese said quietly.

Blue eyes met grey. “Uh.” Taylor, always the eloquent one, stared dumbly. “What?”

“Well.” Reese fished a few dollars out of his messenger bag, thankful that he didn’t have to use his credit card. “He’s an ass, and I don’t want him coming around my apartment,” he put particular emphasis on the ownership, “plus, you were just babbling about how straight you were like, ten minutes ago.”

Taylor stood, pointedly tearing the number off of the bill, “Well, maybe I’m not straight...and if you don’t like my friends coming around your apartment, then maybe I should just find somewhere else to live.” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the restaurant.

“Dammit.” Reese flung the money onto the table, sent one last venomous look in Eli’s general direction, and dashed after his friend. “Taylor, slow the fuck down!”

Taylor didn’t bother responding.

“Where are you going?” he yelled, struggling to walk faster. “Christ, Tay, I can’t keep up with your fucking long legs!”

“That’s the point, fuckhead!” Taylor spat over his shoulder. “Leave me alone.”

Reese broke into a jog, eventually catching up to Taylor, who had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. They walked in silence for a moment.

“Nngh...” Reese tugged on a strand of golden hair. “Look, Tay. I’m sorry for being an ass. You know it’s your apartment, too.”

There was a pause. “And?”

Reese hung his head, scarcely able to believe the words as they left his mouth, “And if you want to bring the asshole waiter around, I guess that’s your choice.”

Taylor shot him a sideways glance. “And?”

“And...” Reese grimaced. “I’ll try not to kill him.”

The redhead gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before eyeing Reese awkwardly. When he finally spoke, it was in an uncharacteristically soft voice, “I’m not gay.” He brushed his bangs out of his eyes with an uncomfortable expression. “Just so you know. I’m not.”

“Yeah, okay.” Reese adjusted the strap of his bag, obviously uneasy with the topic of conversation. “I don’t care. Are we cool, or what?”

A grin split Taylor’s face. “Yeah, we’re cool. You gonna call your parents about the car?”

Reese groaned, “Man, I don’t even want to think about the car.”

“You should just get them to buy you a new one.” Taylor raised his eyebrows at Reese’s disbelieving look. “What? You know they would.”

“Fuck, Tay!” Reese slapped his fist against his palm, scowling. “That’s not the point. That car is special! No one else has a car quite like the Reese-mobile!”

“Yeah, okay. Just like no one has flip-flops quite like those.”

“Fuck no, they don’t!” Reese stuck out his foot proudly. “These things went out of production like, five years ago. Do you know the chances of someone else having them?”

“Hopefully none.”

“Exactly! They’re completely unique– what do you mean, hopefully?”

Taylor laughed, scratching the underside of his chin. “Reese, I’ll bet those shoes cost you as much as the rent. No wonder we’re broke.” His smile faded as his mind returned to their earlier conversation about money problems. “I don’t see why you refuse to ask your parents for help on this.”

“I want to be self-sufficient,” Reese said, sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“But you have no problems asking them to pay for your eighty-dollar haircut.”

There was a pause as Reese struggled to find a clever comeback. “…Fuck you!”

“Whatever.” His hair slid into his face and Taylor absently brushed it away. “You owe me big time, you know.”

“For what?”

“For not killing you,” he said seriously.

“Oh.” Reese stared at his one-of-a-kind flip-flops with a studious expression, gnawing thoughtfully on his lower lip. “So, are you going to?”

Blinking, Taylor tilted his head to look at him. “Going to what?”

Reese’s face darkened with a scowl. “Invite that douchebag over.”

“I don’t know.” Taylor scuffed his feet along the sidewalk as they walked, weighing the options over in his head. On the one hand, Eli was an attractive, opinionated young vegan with nice hair and an even nicer smile. They probably had a lot in common, and Eli liked him, and hanging out was a definite possibility. But on the other hand…

As inconspicuously as possible, Taylor watched Reese through his bangs, taking in the curly blond hair and angry, slitted gray eyes. His jacket looked like it belonged on a girl half his size, or maybe Squall Leonhart, and his pants had more holes and patches in it than the blankie his parents had given him when he was two. He snored, ate meat, and insulted him daily, but there was something about him that told Taylor not to make any hasty decisions. It could have been the designer sandals and hideously expensive haircut, but Taylor liked to think it was his heart.

“It depends,” he said eventually.

Reese snorted. “On what?”

“On how you act,” Taylor sneered, recalling the way that Reese had acted earlier. “If you’re going to be a complete bitch, I’ll just go over to his place instead.”

The blond stumbled at that, nearly pitching forwards onto his face against the concrete. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope,” Taylor said, grinning slyly. “In fact, I think I might do it anyway.”

Reese sputtered, “Not where I can’t keep an eye on you two!”

“And why would you want to do that?” Taylor asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Because…” Reese faltered and gestured clumsily with his hands while he fumbled for a response. “Because I don’t want you alone with him! He’s an asshole, and he’s probably secretly some dirty old man from the internet, and he’ll molest you the minute I step out of the room!”

“He didn’t molest me while you were in the bathroom,” Taylor pointed out.

“That’s because there were other people around!”

“Fine, whatever.” He kicked a pebble on the ground and nearly missed a step as something occurred to him. “How is he a dirty old man from the internet when he’s really a hot young guy at a vegan restaurant?”

“Plastic surgery,” Reese said wisely, trying not to cringe when Taylor used the word ‘hot’ in reference to the sleazy waiter. “And please, don’t tell me you actually like this guy.”

Taylor shrugged, “It’s a little early to tell, but he’s hot,” he reasoned, “and we have a lot in common.”

“What, like you don’t eat meat?” Reese scooped a rock off of the ground. “Tay, this rock doesn’t eat meat. Why don’t you date the rock? I’m sure it has less diseases.”

The taller boy draped himself across a bench as they finally arrived at a bus stop. “Do me a favor and shut up, Reese.”

“No.” Reese propped himself against the back of the bench and busied himself with tapping the rock against the wood. “Why the crap should I?”

“Because,” Taylor slapped his hand over Reese’s to stop the tapping, “I’m asking nicely, and if you don’t, I’ll have to get violent.”

“Heh.” Reese snatched his hand away, pointedly ignoring the heat prickling at his cheeks. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, well, do it in a less obnoxious manner. He’s the only person to show any interest in me since...” There was a pause as Taylor thought back. “Ever.”

Reese’s brows furrowed at that and he pushed himself away from the bench. “That can’t be true. You’re a great guy.”

“Apparently not.” Taylor shielded his eyes from the sun.

“I mean, sure, your ears stick out, and you kind of look like a clown, and you couldn’t match a pair of clothes to save your life, and—”

“Is there a compliment mixed somewhere in there that I’m missing?”

Reese tilted his head back. “Nah.”

“Ass.”

Dismissively, the blond squinted down the street. “Do you want to take the bus home?”

“Was that a tactless subject change to try to deter me from punching your face in?” Taylor attempted to flatten his ears.

“Mostly, yes.” His mouth quirked in a grin. “But do you?”

“I guess so.” Taylor ran his fingers through his mass of tangled hair. “I wish I could fly.”

“Okay, freak.” Arching an eyebrow, Reese said, “But you can’t, so you’re going to have to cough up a dollar to pay the bus fee.”

The freckled boy let out a deep groan of discontent, rainbowing his hips upward so that he could dig through his pockets. He produced a mangled dollar bill a moment later and promptly busied himself with smoothing it against his knee.

Reese felt an uncomfortable pressure grip his chest, and he coughed in an attempt to free the bubble of air that had suddenly lodged itself in his throat. Taylor had folded the now-recognizable dollar neatly into halves and had tucked it into the waistband of his pants. His fingers had found their way back up to his hair, as they so often did, and were wound tightly in his almost-dreadlocks, his head lolling gently from side to side as he hummed tonelessly. Reese was gripped by the absurd urge to play with his hair, complete with the scent, animal-friendly shampoo, and…

He pinched himself. Hard. Then he crammed his hands into his pockets, cursing under his breath.

“Wassa’matter?” Taylor pushed himself up into a sitting position, his plastic gardening clogs (100 vegan, thank you very much) clopping noisily against the cement.

“I was just thinking about how disgusting your hair is, and how much you need to take a shower.”

“So you had to pinch yourself?”

Reese deftly changed the subject and yelled, “Here comes the bus!” He scrambled to the edge of the sidewalk, digging through his bag in faux distraction. Hurrying to catch up with him, Taylor joined Reese at the sidewalk’s edge just as the bus pulled up. After giving the grungy-looking bus driver a skeptical look, he ascended the steps and handed over his dollar somewhat reluctantly.

“This is worth more like a quarter, if you ask me,” Taylor complained as he dropped into a seat, fingering his now-empty pocket with a decidedly forlorn expression.

“Would you rather walk?”

“No,” he said poutily. Curling his fingers inside of his pocket, he shook his hair out of his face and concentrated on staring out the dirty window. He fidgeted at the silence that fell and absently scuffed his feet against the floor. “What’s our stop?”

Reese shrugged, slinging his arm across the back of an empty seat as he said, “Hell if I know.”

Taylor froze. “Then why are we on the bus?”

“Seemed fastest, don’t you think?”

Inside his pocket, Taylor’s hand formed a fist as he glared at Reese. “Not if we don’t know where we’re going!”

“I know where we’re going,” Reese said, but his expression betrayed quite clearly that he most certainly did not. The lines around his mouth were rigid, and his eyes were a fraction wider than normal, frantic and evasive.

“Jesus Christ,” Taylor sighed and slid out of his seat, ignoring the bus driver’s protests to please stay seated. “Excuse me,” he tapped an elderly passenger on the shoulder, “but do you know where to get off for Countryside apartments?”

“Eh?” She blinked rapidly and clutched her purse a little tighter on her lap. “There’s no countryside around here. It’s in the middle of the city!”

“I know,” Taylor said through gritted teeth, avoiding the urge to smack his forehead with his palm. Or better yet, her forehead. “It’s the name of an apartment complex.”

“Oh.” Peering at him over the large rim of her spectacles, she pursed her lips and said, “Well, that’s—”

“Right here!” Reese yelled from the window.

“What?” Taylor turned, stumbling to keep from losing his balance.

“Here!” Reese leapt to his feet dramatically. “Stop the bus!”

The bus driver gave him a bored look and continued on a few more yards, slowing to a halt at the next bus stop. Taylor tugged on a lock of hair, embarrassed, and yanked Reese onto the sidewalk by the hand.

“Idiot.” He gave the blond a good smack upside the head. “Have you ever taken a bus before? You can’t just stop wherever you want.”

“What? Really?” Reese frowned thoughtfully. “But we paid him.”

“I really hate you sometimes.” Taylor scowled in mock-anger, releasing Reese’s hand and marching back towards their complex.

“Wait up!” Reese jogged after him.

Taylor paused for a moment, allowing his friend to catch up. “Are you going to call your parents about the car or what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you have a bike or something?”

Taylor gave him a dark look. “Reese, I love you to death, but I’ll seriously kill you if you suggest that I exert myself in any way that isn’t sexual ever again.”

A grin broke across the shorter boy’s face, “You love me?”

Taylor groaned and dropped his face into his hands.

“You lo-ove me!” crowed Reese.

“Don’t start this again, you ass. It’s a figure of speech.”

Reese gave him a good poke in the ribs. “You want my body.”

“Yeah. Right. Gain ten pounds, and maybe we’ll talk. Also, you’re not gay, so forget what I just said. We’re not going to talk about this. Ever.”

“What do you mean, gain ten pounds?” Reese grumbled as they unlocked the door and walked into their apartment. “I look better than that stupid Eli guy…”

“You look like a girl,” countered Taylor, kicking off his shoes. They hit the wall with two loud thumps and he ducked his head sheepishly before sitting down on the couch. “What’s the appeal in that?”

“Well, first of all, girls are hot,” Reese said and joined Taylor on the couch. “Second of all, and far more importantly, I have the best fucking haircut in town.”

“There is that,” Taylor agreed grudgingly.

“Are you kidding? I know girls who would die for—” he was cut off abruptly by the obnoxious musical ring of the phone. For the second time that day, Taylor dived for the phone, screaming,

“It’s for me!”

“It is not, you ass,” Reese growled and tugged him back by his ankles. Taylor had already grabbed the phone, so Reese had to bend pack his pinky fingers until he howled and dropped it onto the couch cushion.

“That fucking hurt!” Taylor hissed, cradling his hands to his chest.

“Shut up and deal.” He clicked the phone on and held it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Is it for me?” Taylor asked immediately.

“No,” Reese muttered, pushing him away. “It’s my parents.” Pausing to shift the phone, he tucked his knees against his chest and said into the receiver, “Listen, guys, we had a little accident with the car today, and—”

“And tell them the fucking door fell off!” Taylor chimed in.

Reese turned abruptly white. “Uh.”

“What?” Taylor leaned closer, blinking owlishly at him. “What’d they say? Tell them that we need a new radio, too, while you’re at it.”

The blond irritably shoved him away and switched the phone to the opposite ear. “You’re what?” he asked his parents harshly. “Why?”

“What’re they doing?”

“Shut up,” Reese hissed and pushed him again, hard. With a squawk, Taylor fell sideways off the couch and landed on his shoes, wincing.

“Fucking ow!”

Reese looked desperate. “Mom, seriously. It’s not necessary.” There was a pause, “What? No! I’m fine!”

Taylor pointed accusingly from his place on the floor. “You are not,” he hissed. “You’re an asshole!”

Reese kicked a pile of gaming magazines off of the edge of the couch and directly on top of Taylor. “There’s nothing wrong with me – I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was another pause, during which Taylor flung an empty beer can in Reese’s general direction. It thunked against the wall dully. “Okay, fine,” Reese continued, turning away from Taylor. “Whatever. Yeah, I love you too. Yes. Yes, okay. Bye.”

“Well?” Taylor coaxed. “What’s up? Are we getting a new car?”

“We need to clean,” Reese ordered with a desperate expression. “Right now. My parents are coming to visit.”

“They’re what?” he yelped. “Why?”

“Because they want to, and now they think there’s something wrong with me.”

“There is something wrong with you,” Taylor affirmed. “But we always knew that.”

“Shut up,” Reese snapped and threw the phone at him. “This is different. We have to clean, now, and fucking fast.” As if to prove his point, he began gathering every stray item in sight and clutched them to his chest, looking around wildly for an inconspicuous place to stash everything. “They can’t know we live like this.”

“Why not?” The redhead fixed him with a puzzled look. “I mean, since it is how we live, why can’t we let them know?”

“Listen,” he hissed, shoving the gaming magazines into Taylor’s arms, “I don’t know how you live, but my parents are used to higher standards, and if I don’t live up to those standards, we get properly fucked, you understand?”

Taylor sucked in a breath through his teeth, glaring. “Are you implying that my family is poor?”

“No,” Reese said, stumbling around the apartment in a stressed frenzy and really creating more of a mess than he was cleaning. “I’m saying it.”

“You fucking ass!” Taylor shouted and heaved the pile of magazines at Reese’s head, making him falter. “Are you saying you’re better than me, too!?”

“Wait, what?” Blinking, Reese rubbed the sore spot on his head and stared at Taylor as though he had absolutely no idea how the conversation had gotten to this point. Which he didn’t. He’d been so caught up in spazzing and tidying up that he hadn’t paid any attention whatsoever to what he’d said. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Clutching his hands into fists, Taylor ground his teeth together and growled, “Listen, fucker, just because you can afford nicer clothes and a better haircut than me doesn’t make you any better! You kill more animals in a day than a slaughter house!”

“But they’re already dead,” Reese pointed out in confusion.

Taylor seethed. “Don’t try to get out of this!”

“What am I trying to get out of?”

“And don’t play innocent, either,” he yelled, pointing an accusatory finger in Reese’s direction. “I’m fucking tired of it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t have time for this!” Reese flailed desperately.

Taylor took a deep breath, his fists clenched stiffly at his sides, “Look,” he said, his voice decievingly calm, “If I’m too fucking filthy for your standards, then I’ll just leave.”

“What?” Reese shook his head, confused, “You can’t go anywhere. We have to clean.”

The freckled boy’s upper lip twitched slightly, and he stalked past Reese into the bedroom. “No.” He snatched a backpack out of the closet and began shoving random articles of clothing into it. “I’m too fucking white trash for you, so I’m out of here.”

“What are you talking about?” Reese dumped an armful of dirty laundry on top of the bed. “Quit being such a psycho, Tay. You have nowhere to go.”

“I’ll manage.” Taylor shoved past him, stalking out the front door and slamming it loudly behind him.

Reese stood in the bedroom for a moment, staring blankly at the door, and asked the wall in a small voice, “Why do I feel like I just got dumped?”