Author's note: This is a romance between two guys who have to deal with major issues. Thus, it includes angst and tears by default. If any of this bothers you, you can leave now. For the rest of you, I personally think that a lot of it is based on Raised by Wolves, but I've been told that you can't tell. If you can, then let me know and I'll do my best to be subtle about it. And yes, all the chapter titles are lines from songs.

Chapter one: Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time…

Jamie Calhoun was not, usually, a nervous man. It was a nice side-effect of being an informal oracle. And so, it was to Jamie that people turned for reassurance before harrowingly social events. He was famous for his cool head and unflappable common sense, and most of his friends were not. But today, Jamie was rapidly turning into a nervous wreck.

It was just a visit, he told himself over and over again. His friend Anne had invited him, her friend Sara, and Sara’s friend Edward over for dinner. And, of course, therein lay the problem. Jamie had met Edward before, and the other man was a wonderful and charming person. Which was the entire issue. Jamie had taken one look at Edward and fallen madly in love with him. Not just in an, ‘oh, he’s only the cutest guy I’ve ever seen,’ way, but all the way. In love like the, ‘I never want to be with anyone else ever,’ way. But Edward had demonstrated no signs whatsoever of being interested in Jamie, and Jamie was not the kind of man to but in where he wasn’t wanted.

He glanced at his bedside clock. 5:37. He’d told Anne that he’d be at her place around six. It was a short walk away, and he was in good enough shape that it wouldn’t be an issue. So he had just under twenty minutes to pull himself together. Anne knew, or suspected, far too much already, and he didn’t want her to try and be matchmaker in chief. It was probably a lost cause anyway, and he had no desire to allow her to break his heart. Not that it was hard to do. He’d never really recovered from the estrangement from his family, and he tended to cling to his friends far more than they appreciated.

He shook himself hard. This was no time to remember. Jamie hated remembering, and he’d pushed his memories so far into a tiny box that he’d almost forgotten how to let them out. He had no desire to do so now.

He glanced at the clock again. 5:43. Damn. He really did need to get ready. He moved over to his closet and pulled open the door. He examined the clothes he owned, wondering whether to dress up or not. No, he decided. Anne hardly ever dressed up, and she would just laugh at him if he showed up in a suit. Jeans, then. Jeans and maybe a smart-aleck T-shirt. He had a lot of those.

He left the house at 5:55, knowing that he was going to be late. Not even he could walk half a mile in five minutes. Nor was he willing to take a bus. It wasn’t cold, and he needed the exercise. He hadn’t gotten out enough, what with studying and the weather. Jamie hated being cold. It was one of the many legacies of a childhood accident. It had left him with extreme sensitivity to changes in temperature, as well as a slight limp. He’d worked hard to get rid of the limp, but it refused to vanish completely. He doubted that it ever would.

Anne was waiting for him. She pulled open the door at his knock, and eyes him sardonically.

“You’re late,” she said.

Jamie raised his eyebrows. “How very observant,” he said dryly. “Any more genius observations?”

She laughed, and stepped aside to let him in. Anne’s apartment was small and rather messy, but Jamie liked it. It gave him the feeling that it was lived in, something that the unnaturally tidy apartments of some of his other friends didn’t. He dropped with comfortable familiarity into the slightly worn couch, and watched as his friend moved out of sight and into the kitchen. She’d pulled her long brown hair back into a practical pony tail, and it bounced slightly as she made her way into the other room. She too was dressed casually, but in black jeans and an old T-shirt bearing the logo of her old ice skating team. She’d skated with them until graduating from high school, but college life had been just too much to handle, and she’d had to quit. She still kept all of the garments with the logos, though, and wore them at every possible occasion. She liked to joke that she had more team spirit than school spirit, and he thought that she was certainly right.

“Sara and Edward will be here in about twenty minutes,” she called. “And if you want anything to drink, just holler.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Anything decent to drink in there?” he shouted back.

She came out to prop her hands on her hips. She was still holding a wooden spoon, and a tendril of hair had escaped from her pony tail. She pushed it absently behind her ear. “There is the same that there always is,” she informed him. “And if you don’t remember, then go look for yourself!”

“Some hostess you are,” Jamie muttered, heaving himself to his feet. “Won’t even pour drinks for the poor traveler at you door.”

“You have far more money than I do,” she reminded him. “And I’m not letting you sleep in my room, either. If you need to spend the night, you will do it on the couch, not in my bed.”

He grimaced. “You’re so kind,” he said dryly. He pulled open her fridge and glanced at the array of bottles that confronted him. She’d never gotten into the habit of keeping soda in her fridge, like he did, but she had several boxes of cans of minute maid apple juice. He grabbed one and shut the fridge door, leaning against it as he popped the top and took a long drink. He grimaced slightly as he swallowed.

“Why do you drink those, if you don’t like them?” Anne demanded, catching his expression.

He shrugged. “You don’t keep any decent drinks around.”

“I choose to keep my teeth in good condition,” she informed him haughtily. “Besides, soda is disgustingly sweet and it doesn’t taste normal.”

“I’ll have you know that this stuff,” he waved the can of juice, “isn’t much healthier than soda.”

She grinned. “No,” she agreed. “But I can pretend that it is.”

He rolled his eyes. Anne was a big believer in denial, but he thought that sometimes she went too far.

“But your doctor won’t,” he promised.

She shrugged. “And? It’s my life, after all.”

He didn’t answer. She was right, and he supposed that it was better that she’d turned to apple juice instead of to cigarettes or drugs.

They talked for the remainder of the time, discussing completely innocent topics like school and music. Anne was going to a doctorate in the archeological history of the Steppes of Eurasia, and was trying to scrape together enough money to go on an expedition. She had a mad idea of digging up the fabled Amazon warrioresses and proving once and for all that they had existed, but it was so far stuck at the fund-raising stage.

Jamie himself had more achievable ambitions. He wanted to a historian, though he knew himself well enough to know that he could never actually teach, and he was half thinking of getting a doctorate in ancient Japan. He was still studying for his Masters, though, and the doctorate was a dream, not an achievable reality.

Finally, there was the ringing of the doorbell.

“Can you answer that?” Anne asked, not turning. She didn’t have to. Jamie just knew that she was grinning her evil plotter’s grin. “My hands are full.”

Jamie couldn’t object without exposing himself, so he put his apple juice down and moved to open the door. It was them. Of course it was them. Who else would it be? He let them into the living room, trying to stare at Edward without being obvious about it. The other man was as beautiful as he’d been the other time. He was a complete opposite to Jamie. Where Jamie was stark contrasts and sharp angles, Edward was smooth and balanced. His hair was a few shades lighter than Jamie’s own jet black locks, and it blended seamlessly into Edward’s tanned face. His light brown eyes were soft and intelligent, and they showed none of the bitterness that Jamie knew his own gray ones displayed to the world. Edward moved with a grace that Jamie couldn’t match, and every gesture that he made was smooth and fluid. Jamie was insanely jealous, as well as being insanely attracted. It had been so from the beginning.

They passed five minutes in tense silence, before Anne emerged from the kitchen. She lifted her eyebrows at the scene, glanced at Sara, and rolled her eyes. Jamie was terrified that she would turn to him and tell him to talk to the other two, but she didn’t. Instead, she started a conversation with Sara, much like the one that she and Jamie had been having. They talked of school and of Sara’s sister and of Anne’s brother, and gradually the atmosphere lightened. Jamie watched Sara as she talked, noting absently that she was a very pretty woman. Her short dark brown hair was pulled back with a black silk headband, and she was dressed –as usual– in black. Her ears, finally pierced, were adorned with two guitars, and her dark eyes flashed with pleasure as she and Anne recalled old memories. She was indeed lovely, but Jamie’s heart was pinned elsewhere.

Finally, Anne announced that dinner was ready. They trundled into the kitchen, and Jamie made sure to pick a spot that wasn’t next to Edward. Of course, that meant that he was facing the other man, but it was better than being next to him. This way, he could keep his face turned to his food, using the excuse of eating to hide the blush that was too obvious on his pale cheeks.

Maybe it was only his imagination, but Jamie thought that Edward seemed just as tense as he himself was. Anne and Sara carried the conversation through most of the meal, and Jamie could see that the two of them were finding his embarrassment highly amusing. They didn’t display it openly, but Jamie knew Anne well enough to detect the carefully concealed grin. He wondered if Sara’s face held the same expression.

As the meal wound down to a close, Anne leaned back in her chair, stretching her long legs out in front of her.

“We should do this more often,” she announced.

Sara looked at her. “You think that you can?” she asked. “You’re the busiest out of all of us.”

Anne sighed. “If this is what comes of not working, then I think I might do it more often. It’s way more rewarding than I ever realized.”

Sara grinned. “See? I knew I’d bring you around!”

Anne grinned back. “Stop it,” she said. “It’s all your fault that I’m not completely obsessed with my job, you know.”

“Of course,” Sara agreed. She glanced at her watch, then raised her eyebrows. “It’s almost ten. Edward, do you need a ride home?”

Edward shook his head, causing his brown hair to flop into his eyes. Jamie itched to stroke it out of the way. He looked firmly down at the table and his now empty plate. “I’ll walk,” Edward said. “It’s not too far, and I could use the exercise.”

Sara shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She stood, stretching out her own legs. She grabbed her purse and dug out her car keys. “See you all… Sunday, is it?”

Anne shrugged. “Not me,” she said. “I’ve got a meet.”

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Another one?”

“Un-huh. I’m determined to win this one.”

Sara laughed. “I’m sure you will,” she said. “Well then, I’ll see you after that. Email me, will you?”

Anne nodded. “You’d better answer me,” she warned.

“I promise,” Sara said solemnly. She walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. Jamie sighed.

“I should probably go as well,” he said, disappointed. He wanted to spend more time with Edward, even if the two of them had barely exchanged three words over the course of the entire evening.

Anne grinned. “See you on Monday, then,” she said.

“See you,” he agreed, standing. Edward stood as well, and bade goodbye to Anne. The two men walked out of the room together and down the stairs, moving in a comfortable silence. At the door, Edward turned.

“Which way do you live?” he asked.

Jamie nodded towards his own apartment. “About half a mile that way.”

Edward smiled. It sent shivers up Jamie’s spine, and he had to keep his face firmly fixed on his dirty white sneakers.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” Edward asked. Jamie allowed himself a quick glance up at the other man’s face. It was too dark to tell for sure, but Jamie thought that he could detect just the slightest hint of a blush on Edward’s perfect features. They’d started walking again, and Jamie suddenly stumbled. His weaker leg gave out again, and he would have fallen, but for the strong arms that caught him. Jamie looked up into Edward’s worried brown eyes, and saw what had always been there. Jamie had been too afraid to see it, but now it was clear, and Jamie felt it fill his own eyes in answer.

“Are you all right?” Edward asked, his voice full of worry.

Jamie nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. Almost without conscious direction from him, his hand reached up to touch Edward’s. Edward’s fingers brushed his face, and almost before they realized what was happening, they were kissing passionately.

They let go of each other after a long, timeless moment. Jamie looked at Edward, his gray eyes full of love. “Yes, Edward. You may walk me home.”

From the window of her apartment, Anne watched the scene. A small, satisfied smile played around her lips. So they had found each other, after all. She’d have to remember to tell Sara. As the two walked away, hand in hand, she turned away from the window. They didn’t need any more prompting. It would be fine from here on out.