Holy cow, an update! Sorry about the delay. Real life and all of that. I am still working furiously on this story, the problem is that none of it is typed up! I'm about five chapters ahead of what's been posted here, I just need to start devoting time to typing it. I know this is a short chapter, but we'll be getting into the real drama here soon.

Hopefully there'll be another update in the next month.

“Come on, just try it, Cal.”

“No.”

“Scared?”

“No,” Callaway growled. “But I am not eating that.”

Skylar laughed and took a bit out of the sandwich he’d been waving in Callaway’s face. They were in the kitchen; Skylar perched up on the counter as Callaway messed around at the stove. He said he was going to cook dinner, but Skylar doubted it was going to happen. All Callaway had was what was already in the apartment, and that wasn’t very much.

“It’s good,” Skylar crooned, leaning over to wave his half eaten sandwich in front of Callaway’s face.

“No, it’s not. It’s not even real food.”

“Sure it is,” Skylar replied, taking another bite and swinging his legs. Usually they bought food while they were out drinking or stopped at the tavern on the way from the train station to the apartment. But there’s been another riot last night and the tavern wasn’t open that day. A lot of places had been hit hard that time. Even the trains had been late. Callaway hadn’t been there that morning. Skylar had gotten used to riding the train in with Callaway, then splitting up on the other side, Skylar to the factories, Callaway to wherever it was the man worked. Department of something or another. Then in the afternoon they’d meet up again and spend most of the evening together either in a bar or at Skylar’s apartment. So when Callaway didn’t show up that morning, he’d been a little concerned. Not too much, since Callaway was more than capable of taking care of himself.

And the ride hadn’t been too much fun. He missed the banter. And he caught himself looking through the crowd for a familiar dark-haired bastard again. It was like without having Callaway there to distract him he didn’t have any other choice but to try. Reven hadn’t been there of course, and it left Skylar in a pissy mood for the rest of the day.

But Callaway had been there at the end of the day, smiling. That had made things a little better. He didn’t even have a bruise on him, either.

“I couldn’t come cause of the riot, but I wasn’t in it,” Callaway had explained. “I trust you managed not to get caught up in it this time?”

Skylar had stayed clear. He hadn’t even been out. Drinking was more fun with Callaway.

“My job includes – damage control,” Callaway had explained. “Annoying, but I’ve got it under control.”

Control? Right. Like anyone who got paid to “control” the riots really had control. The riots had been going on for over three years now. Nobody controlled them. Skylar didn’t say that, however. He just suggested they eat whatever was already in the apartment when they passed the closed and broken tavern.

Unfortunately he forgot that there wasn’t much real food in the apartment.

“There’s nothing wrong with my sandwich,” Skylar announced. “I’ve been living off of these things for years!”

Callaway stopped what he was doing and stared at Skylar. “And you’re still alive?”

Skylar stuck his tongue out, then dramatically took another bit. “It’s perfectly healthy,” he continued, after he swallowed. “Look, there’s cheese.”

“Processed cheese. Process fake cheese.”

“But still cheese!” Skylar said with a grin. “The beef jerky’s good too.”

“I’m not certain that there’s any real meat in that. We won’t even discuss what else must be in that trash.”

Well, wasn’t someone picky about their food. “there isn’t much else to eat here. It’s either try to make a meal out of Nikki’s cocktail of vitamins or eat the cheese-and-jerky-sandwich-of-doom like me!”

Callaway laughed. “I think I’ll pass. I had to do some digging, but I found some old noodles in the back of that cabinet.”

“Really?” Skylar asked, staring at the one Callaway pointed to. “Who knew.”

“Remind me to buy you some real groceries next time.”

That made Skylar blush and he was glad Callaway was so focused on what he was doing and didn’t notice. Normally, Skylar would be more than willing to let someone else pay for things, but Callaway had a nasty habit of trying to pay for everything. It got old pretty quick and had become more – uncomfortable. Embarrassing and confusing. Callaway didn’t like to talk about his work, so they didn’t. but he must be making good money somewhere. Skylar just managed to scrape by on his factory wage. He’d never have the money to buy beer and food of someone else.

“I don’t need groceries,” Skylar said. It came out a little more quiet than he would have liked but he plowed on. “I have all the cheese and jerky I need.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Hey! I grew up on this stuff!” Skylar exclaimed as he poked Callaway’s hip with one bare foot. Callaway was studying an old can of mystery meat he must have dug out from somewhere else. He seemed to be ignoring Skylar, until one hand shot out and grabbed Skylar’s foot before he would even pull it back. Callaway didn’t glance at Skylar. He kept reading the back of the can. But his warm, slightly rough fingers, wrapped around the sensitive arch of Skylar’s foot. Those fingers felt hot against Skylar’s skin, and he started to smile before Callaway twitched them ever so slightly.

“Eep!”

Skylar nearly fell off of the counter trying to jerk his foot back. He pressed it safely against the counter underneath him and glared at Callaway. “Bastard.”

Callaway glanced over at him, one eyebrow carefully raised. “I can’t help it if you’re ticklish,” he said delicately.