“So I was fifteen when I realized there was something different about me,” Scott said, ducking a low hanging branch on a tree.

“Different?” Nathan took a sip from his drink, holding onto the straw with his teeth.

“I wanted to get a real job instead of spending money on a degree.” Scott shrugged.

Nathan gave the side of Scott’s head a sceptical look. “That’s a bad thing?”

“My dad’s worked in a factory since he was seventeen,” Scott said. “He wanted better for his kids.”

“And choosing to work in a scrap yard is kind of like running away to join the circus?” Nathan smiled. “Personally, I think you in a little spandex suit and a safety net is pretty appealing.”

Scott made a face at that. “At the time, my sister was in university for a liberal arts degree and my brother had been accepted to a bunch of equally pretentious and useless programs. I wasn’t exactly following tradition.”

“I am,” Nathan said. “My brother’s gay, he’s in law school, and look at me.”

“Okay,” Scott said, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to do it. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“Like what you see?” Nathan said, avoiding Scott’s question.

Scott stared Nathan down, narrowing his eyes before taking the cup from Nathan’s hand and tossing it into a nearby garbage can.

“Well?” Nathan asked, feeling nervous.

“Not sure,” Scott said. “It’s not like I haven’t practically been stalking you since you moved in or anything.”

“Oh,” Nathan said. “That’s a little creepy.”

“I work in a scrap yard,” Scott said. “It was either the mob or creepy.”

“Should have chosen the mob,” Nathan said. “At least then you’d be able to buy me things.”

“I can buy you things,” Scott said, taking Nathan’s hand and resuming their walk. “I bought you dinner, didn’t I?”

“Supper,” Nathan corrected. “And I mean expensive things.”

“Like what?” Scott frowned. “Diamonds, flowers, chocolate?”

“Those aren’t expensive,” Nathan said. “Well, diamonds, maybe. But I’m not a bling type of guy.”

“You aren’t?” Scott stopped again, giving Nathan a surprised look. “Then why am I with you?”

“Shut up,” Nathan said, pushing at Scott playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure, maybe,” Scott said with a smirk. “I didn’t go to college. Maybe I don’t.”

“Maybe you’re reading too much into things.” Nathan shook his head and pulled Scott into walking again. “I’m the psych major, remember?”

“Right, right,” Scott said. “So tell me something psychic.”

“Psychological.” Nathan waited until Scott nodded. “And okay. I’m worried about my roommate’s boyfriend.”

“That’s not psychological, that’s neurotic,” Scott said. “He’s the guy who came to get you from my place?”

“That was Vick,” Nathan said. “Davis is his boyfriend.”

Scott turned his head to the side to watch Nathan’s expression. “You’re telling me his name? Isn’t that a violation of privilege or something?”

“Maybe, if I wasn’t just the concerned roommate,” Nathan said sarcastically. “And I’m not just concerned about how sanitary our kitchen furniture is.”

“Uh, gross,” Scott said, making a face. “Kitchen? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Nathan said, shuddering. “If it doesn’t move, it’s had sex on it.”

“That’s disturbing,” Scott said. “And you still stay there?”

“Well, Vick is Aaron’s best friend. Wouldn’t want to offend either of them.” Nathan shrugged. “It’s really not so bad, except for midterms and exams, when I lock myself out.”

“If you wanted, you could study over at my place,” Scott offered, slowing to a stop in front of their apartment building.

“Hmm,” Nathan said, digging his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. “I might have to take you up on that.”

“Of course, I can’t promise you’ll get that much studying done.” Scott leered at Nathan as they headed for the elevator.

“Promises, promises,” Nathan said, pressing the call button. “I can only hope it doesn’t take as long as it did to ask me out.”

“I met you last night, and tonight we’re on a date,” Scott pointed out, holding the door for Nathan. “How much faster could it go?”

“Well, instead of the anticipatory stalking, you could have pretended to borrow something.” Nathan made a face, stumbling into Scott a bit as the elevator made the climb to their floor. “Flour, extension cord, shampoo…”

“Bonus points for creativity?” Scott grinned over at Nathan.

“Sure,” Nathan said, stepping off the elevator and walking down to his door. “Well, this is me.”

“Right,” Scott said, feeling awkward for the first time that evening. “So, can I call you sometime?”

“Sure,” Nathan said, biting his lip. “So, good night.”

“Good night,” Scott said. “I’ll just, uh, wait until you get inside safely and stuff.”

“Okay,” Nathan said, fumbling with his keys to open up the door. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Scott took a step back, leaning against the wall as he watched Nathan fit two wrong keys into the door before getting lucky with the third.

Nathan smiled shyly before letting himself in, shutting the door quietly after him.

With a sigh, Scott pushed off from the wall and headed over to his own apartment. Sliding the key into the door, he heard the welcoming click of the lock turning over before he opened the door.

The sound of a door slamming shut behind him startled him enough to drop his keys. Bending down to pick them up, Scott saw Nathan outside of his apartment again.

“Nathan?” Scott asked, standing up.

“Hey. Um, can I come in?” Nathan asked, casual but for his bright red face. “Looks like Vick and Davis are redecorating.”

“Oh,” Scott said, holding the door open for Nathan before finally cluing in. “Oh! Yeah, of course.”

“Sorry about this,” Nathan said quietly, slipping past Scott into his apartment. “Just, ew. All over the kitchen.”

“Didn’t need that mental picture,” Scott said. “Unless of course you wanted to do some redecorating of our own.”

“Wouldn’t be fair to Robbie.” Nathan said.

“He’s not even here.” Scott shrugged his jacket off, opening the closet to hang it up. “He’s at work.”

“What does he do, anyway?” Nathan asked, taking his coat off as well.

“Robbie? He’s a stripper,” Scott said flatly.

“What?” Nathan laughed awkwardly, before realizing that Scott was serious. “Oh, my god. And I thought he was like a dancer or something.”

“You’re pretty much right, except for taking his clothes off.” Scott nodded towards the living room. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll grab us something to drink.”

“Sure,” Nathan said, obediently having a seat on the couch. He set his hands on his knees, feeling uncomfortable as he waited.

Scott came back into the living room, setting cold cans of pop onto the living room table. “Coke okay?”

“Sure, I guess.” Nathan leaned forward to take a can from the table. “I’d prefer Pepsi, but…”

Scott rolled his eyes, sitting down next to Nathan on the couch. “You don’t have to have it.”

“No, no, I was just kidding.” Nathan held up a hand, then settled back into the couch.

“So was I.” Scott smirked, tugging his shirt out from where it’d been tucked into his pants. “You okay?”

Nathan shrugged, feeling his face flush. “Yeah, just… well, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Scott set his socked feet on the edge of the table. “All of a sudden you’re uncomfortable.”

“Well, we went from being on a date with date conversation and stuff to me hanging out at your apartment.” Nathan set the can of Coke back on the table without taking a drink.

“And…?” Scott frowned, not sure what Nathan was getting at.

Nathan struggled for the words. “And you know what usually happens after a date in someone’s apartment.”

“…more conversation?” Scott offered, purposefully misunderstanding.

Shaking his head, Nathan leaned forward to grab the Coke, changing his mind and putting his arms on his knees instead. “No, like, make outs and stuff.”

Scott tried not to laugh at Nathan’s tone. “Make outs.”

“Yeah.” Nathan shrugged. “And you know, stuff.”

“Stuff,” Scott repeated. “Stuff like?”

“Like kissing,” Nathan said, doing his best not to flush again. “Holding hands. Sex.”

“Oh, that kind of stuff,” Scott said, trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” Nathan said, going red again as he sat back into the couch. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Scott said. “Making fun of you, I mean.”

“Sure,” Nathan said, still looking suspicious. “How am I supposed to know the difference?”

“Get to know me,” Scott said. “I’m really not that big of a jerk, even if I did show you my penis before I knew your name.”

“That was kind of an accident,” Nathan admitted. “And it was mostly my fault anyway.”

“I wasn’t complaining.” Scott crossed his legs at the ankles, letting a hand fall next to Nathan’s on the couch cushion. “So, what do you say?”

“About what?” Nathan left his hand where it was, feeling the warmth of Scott’s fingers against his wrist.

“This whole thing,” Scott said. “How about we talk here until you think it’s safe to go back to your apartment?”

“It’ll never be safe,” Nathan muttered, glaring in the direction of his place. “Just talk?”

“Just talk,” Scott said. “Well, maybe some TV.”

“Was that Nate?” Davis asked, shifting to find a better seat on the kitchen counter.

“Mm,” Vick said noncommittally, hands busy between Davis’ legs.

“I think it was—oh god,” Davis finished abruptly, throwing his head back against the cupboard door.

“Like that?” Vick asked, curling his fingers again.

“Jesus, Vick.” Davis tried to move back again on the counter, hooking his foot into the cutlery drawer for leverage.

“Hold still,” Vick said, using his other hand to push Davis back against the cupboards.

Davis obeyed, up until Vick hit a spot inside that made him jerk involuntarily.

“That’s it,” Vick said, smiling as he held onto Davis’ hips. “Pass the lube.”

“Vick,” Davis said, not even bothered by the whine in his voice. “Just fuck me.”

“Trying,” Vick muttered, sliding Davis towards him until he was barely resting on the kitchen counter.

The edge of the counter was digging into the back of his thighs, but Davis hardly felt it. Vick pulled Davis’ legs up underneath his arms, leaning up to kiss his boyfriend.

“Enough foreplay,” Davis said, putting his hands underneath his knees to pull them to his chest. “Get on with it.”

“Sure thing,” Vick said, leaning in awkwardly to kiss his boyfriend.

The ringing of Vick’s cell phone interrupted them both.

“Fuck,” Vick said as he took a step back, bending down to grab his cell phone from the floor. He winked at Davis as he flipped it open to answer it.

Davis sighed, reaching a foot out to poke Vick in the ribs with his toe. The look on Vick’s face turned serious as he swatted at Vick’s foot.

“Vick,” Davis whined, letting go of his legs to settle on the counter. “Hurry up.”

“Hold on,” Vick said into the phone, putting a hand against Davis’ mouth. “Baby, this is important.”

Davis licked at Vick’s fingers, grinning when his boyfriend gave him an annoyed look.

“I don’t have time for this,” Vick said to him, pulling his jeans back up around his hips before turning back to the phone. “Hello, Robert? Yes, I’m here.”

Vick left the kitchen without another word to Davis.

Staring after him in disbelief, Davis slid down from the counter. Crossing his arms over his chest, he saw Vick light a cigarette and step out onto the concrete balcony.

“Bastard,” Davis said, shaking his head. Grabbing his clothes from the floor, Davis dressed almost as quickly as Vick had taken them off earlier.

Davis looked to Vick, pacing the length of the balcony, cigarette still in hand. Shaking his head, he grabbed his coat from the closet and checked for the keys to his own apartment.

Satisfied that he had everything he needed for the moment, Davis tied his shoes and left the apartment, slamming the door hard after him.