Inspired by my trip to a bath shop and the really nice fragrance I got there yesterday.

Kieran and D'ante are both my characters; Turk belongs to my friend Nami (aka VietNami on FictionPress).

Warning: Male/male romance. Don't like? Please avoid.

On the morning of his twenty-first birthday, Kieran wanted nothing more than to ensure no one made a big deal out of it.

He got up around nine, dressed, and ate breakfast quietly. His roommate was still asleep: it was a Saturday, and Turk was in the habit of staying out late and drinking on most Friday nights. This was something Kieran was rather thankful for at the moment--even though normally he'd have preferred his roommate not go get himself drunk--as Turk had been counting the days until February 8th, and had been not-so-subtly planning something, Kieran was sure. And so, he had resolved to sneak out of their shared dorm and stay away for most of the day in order to effectively foil any possible plans, and therefore avoid a fuss.

Everything went perfectly according to plan until he walked down into the lobby and came face to face with his best friend.

"D'ante!" he exclaimed, after he got over his shock. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York!"

"I was in New York," she said, grinning impishly up at him as she tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder, "but I came up for the day. It's my favourite boy's birthday, how could I miss it?"

He groaned. "Come on, you know I hate a fuss," he said, "I'm trying to avoid my roommate for exactly that reason."

Her bowler hat, which she had been flipping back and forth in her hands up until that point, was quickly jammed onto her head. "Well, let's go avoid your roommate together," she suggested brightly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door--which she could still somehow manage, despite the fact that she was a good four inches shorter than him. She ignored his increasingly feeble protests as she towed him out to the parking lot, coming to a stop in front of a classic black Corvette. He stopped dead, shutting his mouth instantly.

"That's yours?" he demanded, eyes wide.

"Yep. Isn't it gorgeous?"

"When did you get it?" he asked in an awed voice as all objections fell out of his mind.

"Well, it's not mine yet," she said as she unlocked the doors and slipped into the driver's seat. "It belongs to dad, but I'm slowly taking it over. Pretty soon he's just going to hand it over to me officially, and that'll be that."

"That sounds like something you'd do," he said, shaking his head. "I've missed you, D'ante."

She smiled softly at him, all trace of her earlier mischievousness gone. "I know. That's why I came up."

"What exactly are we doing?" Kieran asked as he followed his best friend down a bustling sidewalk as the February snow fell softly around them.

D'ante shook her head, smiling teasingly. "Kieran, Kieran. We don't always need a plan, you know."

"Yeah, but I know you well enough to say that you've probably got a few ideas."

She laughed, throwing a friendly arm around his shoulders. "Well, I was thinking we could spend some time wandering around downtown... stop at a coffee place... browse through a few stores... My treat, of course."

"You don't have to pay for me--"

"Yes I do. It's your birthday."

"But--"

"I've got money and I'm damn well going to spend it on my best friend on his birthday, and there's nothing you can do about it, so shut up."

Kieran shut up, biting back a grin.

"Come on, that place looks promising," D'ante said, point up the road at a small coffee shop.

"Yeah, it's a good place," Kieran agreed, no longer resisting as she dragged him over to the door; despite all his previous protests, he really didn't mind. He happily allowed her to install him at a table, watching her skip up to the counter and return minutes later with a cafe mocha for herself and a black coffee for him. She knew as well as he did what he liked.

"So how are things going at that school of yours?" she asked, sipping her drink as he poured sugar into his.

"Stuff's been going really well," he said, "My classes are great. I've been having a lot of fun."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I wasn't asking about your classes. Anything interesting been happening lately?" She grinned slyly. "Got a girlfriend yet?"

Kieran had been taking his first sip of coffee when her question caused him to choke. He quickly set it down, coughing.

She leaned back in her chair, smiling smugly. "So is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a no," he mumbled, blushing fiercely and picking up his coffee again in a failed effort to hide his embarrassment. Her grin only widened.

"How about a boyfriend?"

He almost dropped his coffee. "What?! No!" he yelled, forgetting himself for a moment. He dropped his voice when other patrons started to look around in curiosity or reproach. "Why would you even ask me something like that?" he demanded, blush deepening. A sudden image of Turk appeared in his mind, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

"'Cause it amused me at the time?" she replied, struggling very hard to contain her laughter.

"Yeah, well, I'm straight," he muttered, ignoring the feeling of his insides turning over as he tried not to contemplate the insistent smirk on Turk's lips. He shook his head in a feeble attempt to clear it, shoulder-length brown and red hair falling in his face, willing himself to believe his own words. If he ignored it, it would go away, and that was that.

D'ante, realizing that perhaps she had pushed too far, wisely chose that point to get to her feet. "Fine then, straight guy, finish your coffee. I want to go buy you some birthday presents."

By the time she had dragged him all over the downtown core to her satisfaction, Kieran had amassed quite a collection of gifts. D'ante had bought him several books and two new CDs, which he was carrying in the bag beside him; a bottle of hot sauce, which he had tucked into his coat pocket; and a soft, brown, red and white striped scarf, which she had insisted on winding around his neck. What with looking through dozens of stores as well as stopping for a late lunch, it was almost four o'clock by the time they were headed back to her car. Before they could get there, however, she paused in front of a store they'd passed on their way to the coffee shop that morning.

"Hey, Kieran, do you mind if we go in here?" she asked, gesturing at the display window, which was stacked with brightly coloured soaps and bottles. "I love bath shops, and this one looks really cool."

"Sure," he said, smiling. She had, after all, bought him pretty much everything he wanted for his birthday. This was something she could do for herself.

Inside was full of light and warm smells. Kieran breathed in deeply, sorting through the scents in his mind. A particularly spicy one attracted his attention and he gravitated towards it, browsing through a stack of soaps while D'ante flitted from section to section, picking up items as she went. When it looked like she was finishing up, he drifted over to the counter, only to discover that she was deep in a discussion with the saleslady about the fragrance tins by the cash.

"No scent is right for everyone," the woman was saying, "In fact, most scents are of the type where not many people can wear them, but those who do wear them very well. I can help you pick something out if you'd like."

"No thanks, I think I've got everything I want," D'ante replied. She glanced around the store one last time, spotting Kieran nearby. "Why don't you pick something for my friend?"

"What? D'ante, no, I don't want--"

"Come on," she pleaded, "These smell really good, I bet you'll like them." She grinned suddenly. "Maybe it'll help you get a girlfriend."

"Gee, thanks," Kieran said, cheeks reddening once again. Nevertheless, he moved over to the cash and started looking through the sample containers. The saleslady touched his hand.

"May I?" she asked. He nodded and pulled his sleeve back, revealing the dark tan that came with his partly Spanish background, and let her smell his wrist. Her face immediately brightened into a smile.

"I know what would suit you perfectly," she said, pulling out one of the little tins and popping it open. "Smell that."

He breathed it in, then recoiled instantly. "No way! That's way too sweet!"

D'ante, who had been stacking her items on the counter in front of her, leaned over and inhaled it herself. "Yeah, gotta agree with you there," she said, "Kieran likes spicy stuff."

The woman didn't look surprised. "Yeah, you smell a bit spicy. But trust me, a sweet scent is perfect for you, just try some. If you don't like it, you don't have to buy it."

"Okay," he said dubiously, rubbing a bit of the wax into his wrists.

"Just let it sit there for a minute, then smell it."

He did as she said while she rang up D'ante's purchases, testing the scent. It was still sweet, but now it wasn't nearly as overpowering, and there was a spicy undertone to it that hadn't been there before. The more he smelled it, the more he liked it--much to his surprise.

"Let me," D'ante said, taking his hand and testing it out. Her face split into a grin. "Kieran, that's perfect! You've got to let me get it for you!"

He didn't protest, even when she took it from him and touched some to his jaw.

When they finally arrived back at the university, just before five, D'ante gave him a hug and said goodbye, insisting that she had to get back to New York sometime that evening. He watched her drive off, then returned to his dorm. Somehow, the prospect of facing whatever Turk had planned for him didn't seem so daunting now.

When he opened the door, he found his roommate sitting at the kitchen table with a box in front of him and wrapping paper spread all over the place. Turk yelled, quickly grabbing the box and hiding it in his lap. Before Kieran could so much as move, the turquoise-haired youth had grabbed the wrapping paper, tape, and ribbons as well and made a break for the relative safety of his own room, slamming the door. Sighing in half-amused exasperation, Kieran walked inside and yelled after him, "You couldn't possibly have wrapped it, oh, I don't know, yesterday?"

"Don't you impose your sarcastic logic on me, you communist bastard!" came the indignant reply from the other room, muffled by the closed door. "And don't look in the fridge!"

The insults didn't faze Kieran. He was used to Turk yelling much stranger things at everyone, including him, on a daily basis. The comment about the fridge, however, merited some attention, and he couldn't help but glance at the piece of machinery.

"Well, I wasn't going to look before, but now I'm tempted..."

"No you're not, you're just trying to make me freak out!"

Kieran rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. Even though they'd only been rooming together for two and a half years, Turk knew him as well as--or better than--most of the people who had known him his entire life. Instead of poking around in the fridge, he walked into his room, hanging up his coat and his new scarf, putting his CDs and the fragrance tin on his desk, and shelving his new books. Then he extracted the bottle of hot sauce from his coat pocket and returned to the main room.

"Can I look in the--"

"No!"

"--fridge yet? I have some hot sauce to put away."

"Hot sauce? Don't you have enough of that stuff already?"

"This is a different kind," Kieran protested, "D'ante got it for me!"

"D'ante?" the door cracked open and Turk's very dyed--and very pierced--head appeared through it. "D'ante was here?"

"Yeah, that's why I was out all day."

"I should have known," his roommate muttered, disappearing inside again.

"Are you almost done or what?"

"Give me a minute!"

Kieran rolled his eyes again and sat down in the chair Turk had only just vacated, tossing his hot sauce bottle back and forth between his hands. His roommate soon emerged, carrying a large rectangular box wrapped in blue paper and a gold ribbon. He cast a suspicious look between Kieran and the fridge--he might not have believed that his roommate had looked inside, but he couldn't help being paranoid. Kieran watched him in only partially concealed amusement.

"Close your eyes," Turk said finally. Kieran complied without a word. He heard his roommate setting the box down on the counter, opening the fridge, and taking something out. Then the crinkling of plastic. He didn't mind whatever game Turk seemed to be playing, and he wouldn't have protested at all if he hadn't heard him flicking a lighter on.

"Turk, you are not lighting up a cigarette in here," he warned, eyes still closed.

"No way!" Turk protested, "I wouldn't do that to you, man!"

"Oh, really..."

"Come on, Kier," Turk sighed. Kieran could hear him moving things around in the cupboards and the cutlery drawer. "You couldn't think of any other possible reason I had my lighter out on your birthday? No reason at all?"

Kieran's eyes snapped open. "You did not--"

"I told you not to look!" Turk said, trying and failing to shield the candle glow with his body.

"You got me a cake?"

"Of course I got you a cake, you moron."

Kieran could only watch in bemused happiness as Turk brought a knife, two plates, two forks, and the cake over to the table and set it in front of him.

"Don't give me that look."

"What look?" Kieran asked, staring up at him. Turk felt his stomach jump. Kieran always looked so adorable when he was confused.

"That innocent, perplexed, why-did-you-do-such-a-nice-thing-for-me look," he ordered, waving one long finger in Kieran's face. He sat down, watching the red-haired boy with an expectant smile.

"But I'm not--"

"Yes you are. Now stop with your silly excuses and make a wish."

Kieran glanced between his roommate and the little cake, crammed with twenty-one candles. All that brightness reflected off the white icing and the whole thing seemed to glow with its own light. He could tell from Turk's expression that he'd remembered Kieran's favourite kind was carrot cake. He smiled.

"What can I wish for?" he asked softly.

"I can't tell you that, idiot," Turk said, sighing good-naturedly. "You have to come up with your own wish or else it won't come true."

"No, that's not what I meant," Kieran replied, offering his roommate a brilliant smile. "I've got everything I want. What else could I wish for?"

At the sight of that smile Turk's heart jumped into overdrive, but he couldn't prevent himself from feeling disappointed at his roommate's words. "Nothing?" he prompted, trying not to hope too hard that Kieran would wish what he wanted him to wish. "Are you really sure?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm really happy."

Turk forced a smile onto his face. "Then blow them out and we can eat it."

Kieran did just that, extracting the candles en masse from the now-pockmarked surface of the cake. Turk split it down the middle, piling one large piece onto each plate. He watched, almost sick with longing, as his roommate began eating happily--very rapidly becoming distracted by a speck of icing which had attached itself to Kieran's cheek. And how was it he had never noticed just how often his roommate's tongue flicked out to lick food off his lips while he was eating?

"Turk?"

He jerked out of his daze, realizing that he had been staring at Kieran--again.

"Sorry. Spaced out," he said, stuffing a bite of cake into his mouth to ward off future inquiries. It was good, but he couldn't help thinking that it would be even better if he was tasting it inside Kieran's mouth. Fuck. No, I do not want to go down that road right now.

Casting around for something to distract him, he spotted his gift, still sitting on the counter. Perfect. He stood up and grabbed it, presenting it to his roommate with a flourish. "Happy birthday, buddy."

Kieran gave him another dazzling smile, then focused his attention on the box which he'd wrapped so carefully only minutes before. Turk dropped back into his seat, momentarily struck speechless. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea... Kieran was bound to be grateful--it was in his nature--and Turk wasn't sure how many more of those smiles he'd be able to withstand...

He was brought back to the present by a soft intake of breath from his roommate, who had just lifted a tin of wasabi peas out of the box and was staring almost reverently at what had been underneath it--a pair of Cajun cookbooks.

"Turk, these are amazing," he breathed, lifting one up and examining the cover.

"I thought you'd like them," Turk said, unable to keep a self-satisfied smirk off his face. Kieran smiled up at him over the book and his pulse fluttered, but he ignored it. He could handle this. He would make himself handle this. He dealt with this sort of thing every day, and this was no different--it wasn't, up until Kieran did something unexpected.

He put the book down, got up, and wrapped his arms around Turk's shoulders.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Suddenly, Turk found his arms looping themselves around Kieran's waist, tugging him right up against his chest and practically into his lap. He shouldn't have done it; it was only going to make it harder for him to keep his hands to himself in the future, but he'd found himself unable to resist. He decided right then that he didn't care any more; it was time to stop playing games. When his roommate had hugged him, he'd caught a hint of an intoxicating scent, and all he wanted was to get closer to it. If that meant no more resistance, so be it.

"Turk?" Kieran said, voice holding an edge of panic that wasn't usually there. "What are you doing? I don't think this is a good idea--"

He gasped and cut off abruptly when Turk buried his face in his neck, inhaling deeply. It was some kind of fragrance Kieran was wearing--something sweet and rich, enticingly mixed with the boy's spicy natural scent. Turk's breathing was shallow and he was almost shaking; he was finding it incredibly difficult not to run his tongue across his roommate's jaw.

That was a bit much for Kieran. He broke away and backed up, eyes wide as he stared at his roommate. His heart was pounding in his ears at twice its normal speed and his face was very flushed. This was not good. Letting Turk get that close to him was causing reactions no straight guy should have. Admitting that he wasn't straight would mean giving in to change. Change meant the unplanned. Change meant not knowing what was going to happen.

Change scared him.

Turk stood up slowly, an unfathomable expression on his face, and took a few steps towards him. Kieran only stared, for some reason unable to look away. He was suddenly incredibly conscious of the one-inch difference in their heights. He backed up, heedless of where he was going, and bumped into the cupboard. Turk slipped his arms around him, leaning on the counter, melding their bodies together. He was trapped.

"I'm not messing around any more, Kier," Turk murmured in his ear, warm breath ghosting over his cheek.

"Messing around?" Kieran asked, voice quavering. "I don't know what--Turk--don't--" He stopped short, whimpering softly; Turk had just snaked an arm around his waist, slipping a hand under the hem of his shirt and sending sparks shooting up his body.

"Bullshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"But I don't--"

"Bullshit," Turk repeated, pressing his lips into his roommate's pulse point. Despite himself, Kieran shivered pleasurably, breath hitching. "I'm tired of us constantly dancing around each other," Turk whispered into his skin, breathing in the spicy sweetness that hovered over Kieran's flesh. "I'm tired of having to avoid the subject because you're scared of what could go wrong. Face facts. You want this as much as I do."

"No--I can't--Turk, I'm not gay, I--"

"Neither am I. I love who I love, regardless of sex. Don't let something like that stop you from being with someone you care about."

"But I--"

"Kieran, if you don't shut up now, I will make you shut up."

"Please--just--"

"I warned you," Turk growled, lifting his lips from Kieran's neck and pressing them over his mouth.

The effect that simple gesture had on him was electrifying. All protests flew out of his mind, his hands crept up of their own accord to grab Turk's collar, and his entire body instantly became hypersensitive. It didn't matter that seconds ago he had felt terrified out of his mind, because now he could feel Turk's hands on his hips, Turk's chest under his fingers, Turk's lips on his. Suddenly, being trapped between his roommate and the counter wasn't intimidating; it was something new, something he didn't really understand, something that was exciting instead of scary. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had that feeling, and for once, he wasn't afraid of his own emotions; for once, he didn't back away. For the first time in his life, he let go, giving in, trusting that he wouldn't fall; this time, Turk would be there to catch him.

Turk was a bit surprised when Kieran responded to his kiss so enthusiastically. He had been prepared for his roommate to put up a bit of a fight before giving in--not that he was complaining or anything. He let his fingers slip under the waistband of Kieran's jeans, feeling that smooth skin hungrily, listening with almost sinful delight to the soft moans his roommate let out. He had dreamed about this for so long...

"I'm sorry," Kieran whispered, pulling back just far enough that his words would be clear, "I'm sorry, you were right, I did want--I mean--Turk, this is--"

"I thought I told you," Turk hissed, "to shut up." He captured his roommate's lips again, slipping his tongue between them. Kieran let out a mewl and promptly forgot everything else.

When Turk finally pulled away, it was only to bury his face in Kieran's neck again, inhaling deeply. "You smell so good," he groaned, tongue flicking out to taste warm skin. Kieran gasped, fists clenching around Turk's collar until his knuckles were white.

"D'ante... got me... this fragrance... today," he panted, shivering as Turk's tongue trailed up and down his throat.

"Remind me to thank her later."

Kieran let out a quiet chuckle, which was cut off by another gasp when Turk bit lightly at his collarbone. "I didn't like it... at first... but I think... it's grown on me."

"It better have," came the mumbled reply.

"Turk?"

"Hm?"

Kieran shifted his hands, running them up the back of Turk's pale neck and into his messy dyed hair, lifting his roommate's head to look him in the eyes--those beautiful hazel-green-blue eyes that he'd never been able to meet for long because they dazzled him so much. "Thank you."

"What for?" Turk asked in surprise. He didn't need any gratitude for kissing him; he'd done that for himself as well.

"For forcing me to face myself," Kieran whispered, "How did I get by, denying this...?" He pressed their mouths together, tongue swirling around Turk's lip stud. Turk leaned over him, pushing his back down onto the counter, moaning as Kieran sucked on his piercing. The smaller boy didn't resist, twining his legs around his roommate's in an effort to pull him closer.

"I lied, you know," he murmured, kissing lightly at the corner of Turk's mouth.

"What?" Turk said, pulling back to rest his forehead against Kieran's. His eyes flickered open, focusing on the other boy's grey-green ones.

"About my birthday wish. I lied. There was something I wanted to wish for. I was just too scared to do it."

Eyes clouding over with lust, Turk smirked down at him. Kieran felt a shock of intense pleasure pass through him at the sight.

"Well, it's a good thing I wished it for you."