Chapter Three: Painful Reminders

Chapter Three: Painful Reminders

October was not happy. More than that, he was nervous. He tried to relax on the couch when he got home, but found it was easier to keep busy. Thus, he leapt with fervour into the apartment cleaning that had been put off all morning.

Chuck had found him half a year ago, working in a strip bar where everything was for sale. It wasn’t a horrible way of life- it was a roll of the dice most of the time. There was only the rare rude or violent customer and they were usually culled from the club by the security. The worst of the evils was the unknown factor. The customers could have anything from a cold to AIDS and they were under no obligation to share that with the flesh they paid for.

No one forced him into what he’d done, either. The most money came from one-on-one attention with customers so that’s where he strayed to. Serving drinks or dancing would have paid up too and it was by far cleaner, but he had needed the money as quickly as he could get it so he did what he felt he had to. In the end, it had all been a waste but he felt he had done something instead of just letting the inevitable happen. No matter what he told himself, he suspected he would always feel that he hadn’t done enough.

When he ran out of things to clean, he reorganized his cupboards and fridge while taking note of things he needed. He jotted them on a pad of paper as he went, making a grocery and to-do list. If he wasn’t interrupted as he was that morning, he figured he’d cross some points off the list tomorrow. Laundry and grocery shopping needed to be done- if he was feeling good, he’d do them.

Glancing at the clock, he decided it was time to start getting himself prepared for that thing he had agreed to. That date thing he had promised on pain of death he wouldn’t do. And was doing. He felt a little ill and a little angry at himself- mostly, he felt nervous.

The nerves, he found, were very out of place for him. He didn’t even know what he was afraid of for heaven’s sake. Pulling back the shower curtain, he turned both of the taps down so the hot and cold was even and started up the shower. He pulled off his clothes, thinking about what he’d gotten himself into and how he was going to survive it with his emotions intact. October stepped into the shower and nudged the cold tap off a bit, letting the temperature edge into warmer.

The water was soothing and it eroded the edge of his worries- how bad could this date thing be? He’d been on many dates. Granted, they were paid dates and some were just wasting enough time until sex was opportune, but they went through the motions of a date. How different could it be?

He started to get anxious again when he thought about it more. What if he only knew how to pull off escort dates? What if he did it all wrong? He rested his forehead against the smooth, whiteness of the shower walls while the spray of the showerhead continued to rain down on him. He was getting irrational: if it went all wrong and Mickey tucked tail and ran, it was all the better for him. For both of them.

Tipping his head back, he rinsed his hair clean of shampoo and wiped the water from his eyes. Something ran across his mind that made him frown; he’d broken two of his rules today. Not only was he scheduled for a date, his home address had been given out. Despite neither being his direct fault, he felt his heart squeeze in anticipation. The eccentric tattoo artist would know where he lived- something he’d always fought to keep very private. Turning the taps up and choking the flow of water, he wiped at the droplets that rolled down his face.

Closing the pastel-coloured shower curtain shut behind him, he wrapped a warm, soft towel around himself. October checked the time to make sure he wasn’t running late- it was cutting close to five so he dragged another towel across the fogged mirror so he could see himself. To hasten the shower-mist removal of the bathroom, he opened the door and shivered when the cool air rolled over his skin. He fought the urge to shut the door and stay warm in the bathroom.

Pulling out his usual set of bottles, hairdryer and straightening iron, he set to work taming his auburn hair. It was either spend the work fixing it now, or let it go wild and dry how it pleased. It was always a gamble between natural, good-luck sexy and off centre frizz, so he often chose just to straighten it right away.

After he’d dried his hair and pulled the straightening iron through it, he dragged the drawer under the sink opened. He regarded all the bottles, brushes and compacts, trying to decide what he wanted to wear. Poking the contents around, he selected a few items and went about carefully applying his choice. He leaned in close to the bathroom mirror and ran a thin line of black over his eyelashes on the top, touched up his light lashes with dark, and smudged some smoky coloured eye shadow onto his upper eyelid. Good for evening light, he thought, surveying his handiwork.

He fretted about what to wear for a bit, picking clothes out only to put them back with unease. For lack of time to continue his indecision, he pulled a long-sleeved shirt over his head, its horizontal stripes tan and dark brown. He wriggled into a pair of dark jeans and felt satisfied. Mostly.

When he’d thoroughly run out of physical things to fuss about, he found he still had a quarter hour to wait. He had said six, right? What if he’d misunderstood and ended up being late? He discarded the mindless worry- Mickey would have called up from the lobby if he was waiting. October leaned against the kitchen table, closing his eyes to soothe his frazzled nerves.

He smiled at the irony of being nervous tonight as opposed to the complacent composure he held on his working nights. His cell phone went into his jacket pocket and he slipped on his shoes. He didn’t want Mickey to come up so he’d be ready to meet him downstairs. Too anxious to sit and wait for the summons, he grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him.

The lobby was empty and he watched through the glass at the cars that passed on the rapidly darkening street, destined for unknown places. He was sure he’d developed an obsessive compulsive disorder with checking his cell phone for the time, when a car pulled up in front of the apartment. The headlights cut after a second and the driver’s side door opened. October fought the urge to bolt.

Unhurried, the tall figure strode towards the front doors. The light above the front doors of the apartment chased away the dim of the spring evening and illuminated Mickey as he reached them. He spotted October as he reached for the curved brass handles of the glass doors and he smiled, eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Ready to go, are we?” The doors closed slowly behind him. He looked good and, in the small vicinity of the lobby, smelt good as well. However odd that sounded even inside his own head, the fact was indisputable; whatever Mickey was wearing in the cologne department, it was heady and spicy without being over pungent.

“Yeah- sorry, my place was a bit messy.” Which was a lie as he’d spent all day cleaning and the place was spotless as an albino Dalmatian. He kept his eyes fixed in the blue of the other man’s- there would be time to visually explore later.

Mickey smiled that easy, no-problem, no worries smile that made his eyes honest and real. “I can relate. A couple of messy roommates and a dog don’t help either.” He chuckled and October found his amusement infectious.

“I’m sure they don’t.” October felt the nerves twist and tighten his insides. He felt silly, the way he kept glancing away and dragging his gaze back. Shy was just an act- along with giving, dominating, sexy, whatever was called for- it wasn’t supposed to be actually crippling. The more he thought about it the more he feared blushing and it became a slippery slope until he felt his cheeks warm- which made him blush more.

“So, is there anyplace you had in mind you wanted to go?” Mickey looked so relaxed and unassuming, it calmed the high-strung feeling in October’s chest.

“I’m fine with anything.”

“Hope you haven’t eaten yet,” He paused, “Did you? I didn’t have much of a game plan this morning to warn you.”

October shook his head, distracted by the term Mickey had used for the time of day everyone else referred to as afternoon or lunch. Maybe he was a late sleeper.

“Great. There’s a new place I wanted to try.” He stepped back and held the door opened, “Shall we?”

A thought ran across his mind and, before he mentally scanned it, he asked it out loud, “I can’t imagine you’ve seen all of the city yet since-“ He cut himself off, flushing.

Mickey glanced sidelong at him as they walked down the sidewalk to the car. “Since?” He prompted, flicking the messy black and white strands out of his face with a toss of his chin.

“Er- since, well,” October gave up the act and decided coming clean was easier than trying to cover it up, “Cara mentioned you recently moved here.” He muttered and felt self-conscious admitting it. It felt like stalking when you confessed to knowing things about people that they didn’t know you knew.

“I did. I moved up from a few cities over- better for business out here.” He didn’t go so far as to open the car door, which October found nice. Over-chivalry tended to get on his nerves. “You and Cara know each other pretty well, hey? How long have you known each other?”

Settled in the passenger seat, he found his nerves flip flopping between anxious and starting to relax. It seemed like every time he noticed he felt a tad calmer, it drove his anxiety back up again. He waited for Mickey to walk around the car and get into the drivers side before he spoke. “For a few years now.” He had chosen his words carefully. No need to hand the poor man all the baggage right off the hop.

“Related?” Mickey asked, starting up the car. It was a decent car- nothing too flashy but it certainly wasn’t falling apart. It smelt like cigarette smoke, which either meant Mickey smoked or whoever else had driven this car had. Smoking would definitely be a point against the blue-eyed man.

Were they related? Not technically, but she could pass for a sister. “Not by blood.” He said finally.

Momentarily distracted by waiting for cars to pass so he could leave the parking spot, he spoke up after a pause, “By marriage?” He cranked the steering wheel around and merged into traffic.

“Well,” October hesitated, twisting the sleeve of his jacket, “it’s complicated.” His mind worked to find a way out of explaining Austin. Perhaps he should- the baggage might scare Mickey off.

“How so?” He was only half paying attention to driving and it gave October another thing to worry about. It could have been he was getting too used to Holiday’s driving skills- or lack there of.

He didn’t know how to explain it without explaining it. “She was my brother’s fiancée.” He hovered about the end, debating whether to explain the ‘was’ bit.

“You’re incredibly cryptic.” Mickey glanced sideways.

October blinked, “I didn’t mean to be. Sorry.” He trailed off, feeling a little disgruntled. Cryptic? He supposed he was… a little.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing. Tell me if I’m ranging into uncomfortable topics and I’ll stop.”

“No, it’s okay. I was figuring out how to explain it, that’s all.” Mickey didn’t say anything so he took it as a cue to continue, “My older brother is gone. He would have married Cara so I guess that makes her my sister in law. She’s close enough to be my sister anyways.”

“Ah, I’m sorry for bringing it up.” He sounded like he felt bad.

“It’s fine, really. I’ve accepted it even though no one else seems to have.” He stared out the window, feeling a little irritated. Not at Mickey, it wasn’t his fault for bringing it up, but more at everyone else. At his parents for still scanning the globe for him and at Cara for not moving on. Mostly at Cara- she’d be old before she accepted he was dead and wasn’t coming back.

They drove on, heading downtown to wherever Mickey had in mind. “That’s rough. What happened to him?”

“He got himself into things he shouldn’t have.” October muttered, “And he wouldn’t let anyone help him. He dug his own grave.” He felt surprised at how bitter he sounded but he supposed everything sounded more justified inside your own head.

“How long ago did it happen?”

He had to think for a moment. It wasn’t something he wrote on the calendar every month. “About eight months.”

“Oh- holy, it’s recent.” Mickey took his eyes off the road to look at October.

“Kind of. It’s complicated.” He repeated himself, feeling dumb for explaining it in the first place. Why hadn’t he just left it at ‘he’s gone’? Again, Mickey had given him a loophole not to do something and again he hadn’t taken it. He must be coming down with a severe case of stupid. A little belated, he added, “Don’t worry about it. It… wasn’t a simple thing.”

“Okay.” He said slowly, sounding like he wanted to say more but was holding back.

Way to go, October thought irritably, way to set the mood to ‘gloomy’. Why did he explain it? Why didn’t he just shut up. He struggled to find something better and brighter to talk about. “So you moved here for business reasons?”

“Yeah,” He had that distracted and concentrating look, “Better business since there’s a fair number of people here. Got to go where the customers are.” He turned off the street, much to October’s anxiety, into a narrow side street.

With his luck, Mickey would turn out to be a psycho ex-client and he’d be found dead in an alleyway. It wasn’t so far from the truth, he’d worked with boys who had become second-page news murders or assaults. He tried to remember if he’d ever met the man in the driver’s seat before. He came up blank, but there were weeks of his life he didn’t remember as well.

“You okay?” The question jerked him out of his thoughts.

“Yes.” He said quickly. “Where… are we going?”

Mickey looked a bit sheepish, “I thought I knew where I was going but now I’m not sure.”

The blue-eyed man seemed so genuine it was hard to be afraid of him. Affection for his predicament washed away his apprehension. October smiled, “Where are you trying to get to? I know the city pretty well.” Since most of his work was house calls these days, it took a decent amount of mental mapping to figure of where he was going each night.

“Er, I wanted to check out a restaurant the paper highlighted- it’s a vegetarian joint, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Cara said you were a vegetarian,” He said, bemused, “But what’s the place called?”

“Quite the informant, isn’t she? I wonder what else she told you,” He glanced sidelong and raised his eyebrows, “I think its called Flora Before Fauna. Or else that’s its motto.”

“Big green awning in the front?”

“Yeah! Or at least I think…” he stopped at the exit to the narrow street, looking left and right onto the street it turned onto.

“Go right.” October hastily curbed the affection that tugged on the sleeve of his emotions. At least he knew he wasn’t going to be murdered in a back alley, which was always a calming piece of knowledge to have.

“Glad one of us knows where we’re going.” Mickey chuckled. “Should’ve looked up the directions better.”

“You just took a wrong turn down this street. If you would have stayed on the main drag, it would have taken you right to it.”

“Great. Well, I guess we took the scenic route.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re not on a schedule.” October teased.

“Oh how do you know? Maybe I’m ridiculously organized-“ He stopped when October snorted, grinning widely, “Oh you don’t think so? Does my appearance not say it all?”

October raised his eyebrows. A dark t-shirt under a jacket, well-worn dark jeans, and a severe case of styled bed-head mohawk said it all quite clearly.

“Okay, so you’re right. I’m a slob. An artistic slob though, so I think that qualifies me for a slob-ism permit.” He pulled up back to the main street. “Where to now, navigator?”

“Right,” October laughed, “You missed the whole thing when you took the detour down the alley.”

“I thought it was on the other side.” Mickey protested, but turned right as instructed.

“What other side?” He laughed, “The other side is housing.”

“Well, who says we can’t just stroll into someone’s kitchen and sit down? Maybe that was the idea in the first place.”

“To invade some person’s house at supper?” October found the amusement infectious- Mickey was oddly intriguing and very unexpected. He’d thought for sure, when he’d first met him on the street yesterday, that he was your average, common-grade cocky guy.

“It’d be worth it just to see their expression- knock on their front door and tell them you’re there for supper, what’s on the menu?” He watched the street-line of buildings.

“I think they’d call the cops on you.” October smiled, “its coming up- parking is in the back so you have to take a side street.”

“Have you been there before?” He asked, startled.

“No, all the places along this stretch have parking in the back.”

“Oh I see- is that it?” He ducked his head to glance out the passenger side of the windshield.

“Yes, take the side street right after it- this one right here!” October laughed as Mickey cranked the wheel and cars behind them slammed on their brakes, honking angrily. It seemed Mickey was a bit like Holiday- no, that was an overstatement as Holiday would have managed to cream all the cars parked on the side of the street as well as cause a multiple car pileup. Once he got nervous, there was no more concentration left in him.

“There, see? We made it. Alive. In one piece.” Mickey nodded, somewhat breathlessly, and turned into the parking lot in the back. “That wasn’t so hard.”

“Yeah the cars behind us had good breaks so we were lucky.” October glanced at him for his reaction.

“Hey, now, I had a parking lot to find. They would understand if they knew the story.” Mickey didn’t look the least big offended and pulled the keys from the ignition. “I’ll send them apology cards and everything. Did you get their plate numbers?”

October shook his head, getting out of the car.

“What? Seriously? Well now how am I going to send them cards? Shame on you.”

“Shame on me? I wasn’t the one lost off the main street.” October looked down his nose at Mickey- it was no easy thing as Mickey was considerably taller.

“I wasn’t lost. I was taking note of the back alleys.” Mickey said sagely, strolling amiably beside October around to the front entrance.

“For what?” Again with the killing in the back alleys, October grimaced mentally.

“Dunno, I give up. I was lost. You win.” Mickey shrugged and pulled opened the door.

“What do I win?” October raised an eyebrow coyly, testing out the other man’s intent.

“A date with me.” Mickey shot back, as the door closed behind them.

“I already had that.” There were a fair number of people already waiting in the lobby, seated on benches that ran around the room. Two hostesses were scribbling on their podium papers and talking on the phone. It was busy in the small restaurant that night it seemed- perhaps they’d have to go elsewhere.

“Oh now you’re getting greedy. You think on that, throw your pitch and we’ll see what the board directors decide later.” Translation October interpreted: I’m not looking for sex, but if you insist…

Mickey strolled up to the busy hostesses and waited patiently for them to finish their arrangements and phone calls.

“Hi, welcome to Flora Before Fauna, what can I do for you?” She chirped automatically, glancing between the two. “Do you have a reservation or shall I put you on the waiting list? It’s full up in here tonight.” She looked like she was running on several more energy drinks than the recommended daily amount indicated she should.

“Reservation should be under Williams.” Mick nodded. October was a little surprised; he hadn’t labelled Mickey as someone to think that far ahead. It seemed that every time he had a preconception about the taller man, it was broken and readjusted before his eyes. He would see though- Mickey might be exactly like every other suave guy he’d given a chance.

The hostess twittered and arranged things, chatting with Mickey, while October felt a little lost in thought. He didn’t date- he had his reasons. He had dated before the whole mess started but he realized, with a note of disbelief, he hadn’t had time to even think about anything normal since last summer. Dating gets put in the backburner when you’re worried about more serious things like your life. But surely that was in the past, wasn’t it? He prayed it would stay there.

October followed the pair who were now engaged in a heated discussion about lobsters and their civil rights.

“Not only are Lobster traps unnecessarily inhumane, half of the protection lies with the consumer!” She sat them at a table out of the way and set down a pair of menus.

“Fewer sales tend to lead to less demand,” Mickey nodded, plunking down in a chair, “and in turn less fishing to meet demand.”

October crawled away from his thoughts to listen to their debate, but it ended as quickly as it started when the pager on the hostesses hip buzzed.

“Oops, gotta run! Save the lobsters- eat seaweed!” She clicked away in her heels, back towards the front lobby.

“The staff are certainly dedicated.” Mickey shrugged, when October raised his eyebrows. “Lobsters are cool.”

“You’re really completely vegetarian?” October asked to get the conversation going. The full restaurant was putting him on edge. He had his back to most of the crowd and he fought the urge to twist around to see.

“Yup,” Mickey leaned back in his chair, “Nothing that used to frolic about will end up on my plate.”

“Are you into that vegan stuff? Nothing with a face and all that?” He picked up the menu and began to scan through it, feeling a little hesitant. After all, it was guaranteed to be completely vegetarian and if his stomach was already on edge it wouldn’t go over well to stick weird stuff in it.

“Nah, that’s a little overboard. Milk and cheese are cool with me and eggs aren’t too bad. I know chickens lay ‘em anyways so might as well use them.” He explained amiably.

October was amused: Cara was right and it was funny to know Mickey just chewed on plants etc. He really seemed like your average barbequing, steak-eating, burger-ordering guy. Again, with the misconceptions- next thing he knew, he’d probably find out Mickey was a woman. The idea almost broke his composure.

“I have to ask,” October tried to fight the amusement, “do you eat tofu then?”

Mickey returned the amusement with a good-natured grin, lazy and slow, “Yes. And salad. And vegetables and fruit. Sometimes crazy soy stuff. Exotic, no?”

“Sorry,” October fidgeted with the menu, keeping his eyes downcast, “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a vegetarian.”

“It’s no problem- most people don’t. Charred animal muscle on a plate kind of turns me off. Plus my parents are old world hippies so us kids grew up on vegetation.”

“Really?” October glanced up, interested.

“Yeah. They don’t have a bus with a peace sign spray painted on the side though. Unfortunately.”

Their waitress showed up at the table, setting glasses of water down and asking them how they were tonight. She explained the specials and then trotted off to give them time to decide.

October scanned the list tying to decide that would go over well with his digestive track. Nerves coupled with out of the ordinary food made his stomach unhappy. “So, I think I need a professional opinion on the menu. I can’t say I’ve ever been to a vegetarian restaurant.”

Mickey looked up and blue eyes amused, “Oh come on, it’s just the absence of meat. It’s nothing too crazy.” He did a once over of the menu, “Stir fry? Or try pasta.”

“Is it going to have tofu?”

Mickey laughed and startled October, “Do you have a phobia?”

“No,” He said quickly, “It’s just-“

“I’m just teasing. No, you won’t have to eat tofu. But I’d really rather not move to someplace with flesh on the menu.”

October wrinkled his nose, shifting in the chair, “You make it sound so gross.”

“Because it is.” He shrugged, “It’s a dish that used to run around on its own before someone slaughtered it and sold it to the kitchen.”

“All right, tofu sounds better.”

“Another successful conversion from the dark side.” Mickey smirked, bringing the glass of water to his lips. “Don’t worry, the aversion to carnivorous activity should pass as soon as you’re out of the vegetarian’s presence.” He translated when October gave him an odd look, “You’ll go back to your normal ways when you’re not getting dark glares at your food from me.”

“It’s not like I need to eat meat. I just don’t particularly like new things- they upset my stomach.”

Mickey hummed and looked over the menu again, “Do pasta then. Easier on the digestive if you’re already used to it. They have stuff strictly vegan on the menu, but most are just meat-less dishes.” With his jacket slung over the chair, the black and white styled tattoos that sleeved his arms were easily visible.

When the waitress came back, she jotted down their orders, asked if everything was all right, and left with the menus tucked under her arm. People chatted in the passive lighting of the restaurant, servers carried plates of food and beverages and, somewhere, a happy birthday song was being sung over the background music that was playing.

“So, was it just your parents that influenced you to be healthy or did you decide on your own?” October asked. The nerves nipped at him as he found nothing to distract him, no menu to look at anymore, from direct conversation.

“Well, they started it- but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was a health-freak.” He brushed the invading hair away from his face. “Vegetarian is more of a moral choice. It’s not like I’ve actually got a healthy lifestyle going on.”

“No? Don’t you walk your dog and stuff?”

Mickey looked sheepish, “No. Rarely. Ralph is pretty lazy- just like me. We mostly sit on the couch, watch TV and eat. He comes to work with me some days though.”

“Are you a full-time tattoo artist?” October smiled, feeling a little withdrawn but willing to try. After all, he was supposed to be having fun and not worrying.

“Pretty much. I’m there whenever people schedule appointments. I like what I do so it’s not a burden even though it’s time consuming.”

“Did you do your own tattoos?”

Mickey chuckled, “No, it would have turned out more like a disturbed primate with a crayon type disaster if I had tried to needle it all in myself. Picture trying to even drawn a decent piece on your arm with a marker.”

“Oh, good point.” October muttered, feeling a bit silly. He distracted himself with the glass of water instead, running his finger over the condensation on the sides. “Who did them then?”

“A buddy of mine and the co-owner of the business we own. The designs are mine though.” He leaned forward, “But that’s really all there is to me, let’s hear about you.” How long had all those inked designs taken? October almost winced at the thought of the pain- how could he sit through all of those?

“Oh, I’m not interesting,” October mumbled around the rim of his glass lifted to his lips, trying to downplay any conversation about his life. He already had a bad track record of saying too much around Mickey. He noticed a version of Disney’s original Mickey Mouse tattooed on one arm. A black and white inked Pluto wasn’t far away from it.

“I bet you are.” Mickey argued, eyes light and studying October, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

The nerves shot up; personal? What kind of personal? “I guess.” He trailed off, guarded.

“Is October your real name? It’s just I’ve never heard of anyone with the same name. It’s nice and it suits you, I just wondered where your parents got it.”

Lie or tell the truth? Compromise: “It’s the name I go by.”

“Okay, cool, just curious.” October could tell he wanted to ask more but hadn’t, “So you know a lot more about me than I know about you. Are you going to let me ask some questions or are you going to get all cryptic on me again?” His voice held a tinge of playfulness, but he was serious underneath it.

October wasn’t sure what to say. He played with the cutlery, straightening it and rearranging it. “I guess I just like to keep my life to myself. I don’t mean to hide things.” Well, he did mean to hide some things. A part of him want to tell the man sitting across from him everything, every dark little secret, just to see what he’d do- if Mickey would never call again after tonight and if they passed on the street, if he’d avoid eye contact.

“Okay,” Mickey said slowly, “Is it because of me? Do I make you uncomfortable or anything?”

He looked up sharply, completely thrown, “No. If anything it’s the opposite.” He trailed off into a mutter.

“What was that?” Mickey looked gentle and patient. He was intimidating in that way, that he was almost too understanding.

“You’re a very easy person to be around.” October sighed, giving up the act because Mickey wasn’t relenting and letting him be shy, “There’s parts of my life that belong to me that I don’t share.”

“That’s cool. We all have those.” Mickey was interrupted by their server’s return with food. He sat back in the chair.

“Here we go,” she set the plates down, “Is there anything else I can get you guys tonight?”

“No,” Mickey glanced at October who nodded in agreement, “I think we’re fine, hey?” He nodded a thanks at her.

“Great! I’ll be back to check on you later.” She smiled and hurried away. It was busy and she probably had a few other tables to look after. Either that, or the two men at her table disturbed her.

“Where were we?” Mickey frowned in thought.

October shrugged, picking up a fork and surveying the steaming pasta. It smelt good and it looked good, hopefully it went over well with his stomach.

“Okay, so, it’s not me that’s making you uncomfortable?”

“No, why?” He shook his head and tried the pasta- it was good.

“You just seem tense and ready to leave. I mean, if this isn’t going how you wanted I can take you home.” He didn’t say it coldly, just with a soft, disappointed edge.

October felt taken aback- maybe he was right and he was being tense. He was nervous about the full restaurant, nervous about being in a ‘normal’ public setting and being with someone who wasn’t paying for his time. He didn’t have to act but here he was, acting. He supposed he was being flighty and hot/cold.

He put down the fork, “No, its not you. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind and I can’t seem to put them away and just enjoy myself. I’m sorry for acting weird.”

“Don’t be sorry. Anything you want to get off your chest?” His eyes were so honest and easy to fixate on.

“Maybe later.” October said after a pause. He didn’t need to say anything and it would only open up a whole new set of problems if he said anything. But, if he did come clean, he would know for sure what Mickey could handle. If he kept quiet, it felt a lot like lying. And yet, what did it matter? He probably wasn’t going to ever see the guy again. Dating was out of the question because it required honesty and honesty lead to inevitable repulsion on Mickey’s side. Mickey was an honest person and it probably wouldn’t go over well to lead him on with secrets and conveniently hidden careers.

Mickey nodded evenly, letting the quiet descend as he turned his attention over to his food. October felt bad- this wasn’t going very even-keel. This is what he’d fear would happen, that he’d freeze up and not know what to say. He supposed he wasn’t an easy person to get close to. Most of Chuck’s crew were nice guys and girls, but he didn’t care to get close to any of them. Lotus and Holiday were exceptions because he couldn’t get rid of them and they sort of stuck after a while.

An idea struck him and he immediately knew it was a bad one- but it would help. Just one? Maybe just one. It’d loosen him up and help him talk freely without censoring everything he thought and clipping himself so short he seemed like a bitch.

“Do you mind if I order a drink?” October asked slowly, hoping Mickey wouldn’t take offence or anything.

He raised his eyebrows once, quick in surprise, “Not at all. I was going to ask, but I got distracted. Go ahead, I’m driving so I pass.”

October nodded his thanks with only slight under currents of guilt. He tried to avoid drinking as much as possible as it he’d had some bad months nursing the bottle and discovered it was in no way an effective coping method. However, sometimes desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, he convinced himself, it was only one drink. He would make sure it didn’t turn into more.

He flagged down the passing waitress and asked if she had a moment.

“Of course.” She replied brightly, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

“Could you bring me a lime margarita on the rocks?” Yes, it was a girly fruity drink. Beer or hard liquor made him sick easily.

She looked like she was going to ID him but thought better of it. “Sure, I’ll just be a minute.”

Mickey was thinking along the same lines as the other two it seemed, because he spoke up, “How old are you, October?” He chuckled, “I don’t know anything about you. Cara told me to find out for myself. She’s quite the one-sided informant.”

“She’s loyal to me, sorry.” October picked the green garnish out of the pasta and set it aside. It was too chancy to be edible. “I turned twenty-one in April. And you?”

Mickey pointed a fork at him, “Twenty-four- I’ve got you beat.”

“I didn’t know it was a competition or I would have quickly amassed some more years.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. You won before, but now we’re even in the strange game Olympics.”

October nodded, bemused. His date was certainly a unique guy if a little crazy. Decidedly a very likeable crazy, though. “Sure.”

The red-haired waitress returned and set the glass down in front of October, taking her leave just as quickly after she was no longer needed. The restaurant was still full, people finishing up supper and new groups taking their place after the dishes had been hastily cleared away by busboys.

“What did you want to do after this?” Mickey looked up from his plate.

Trying the drink, he found it a little on the tame side but, then again, that was probably a good thing. He’d had better, but it wasn’t bad. “Anything is fine.”

“Well, what are you in the mood for? Sitting through a movie would go pretty late but that’s an option.”

The vodka in the drink left a warm trickle down to his belly. “Why don’t we get your dog and go for a walk?” He didn’t feel up to being in another crowded space tonight. If he was working, it was different: he could block everything out and was fine in public areas. On his own free time, however, it was different.

“Now that’s an idea- he could use the exercise and it’s not a bad night to be outside. Unless it’s started raining or something.” Mickey nodded, tossing a napkin on top of the finished plate. He sat back in his chair, running a hair through his hair and messing it up further. October had the sudden urge to fix it and wondered it Mickey ever coaxed it into a full mohawk or always left it messy.

“Tell me about your hippie parents.” October smiled.

“Heh, they’re nice people if a little odd. They don’t have the neighbours around for supper much, let’s just say. They cook weird stuff that my dad gets off the Internet half the time and they garden. They garden a lot, actually- big on the organic thing and all that.” He nodded, pausing to pick his teeth. He grinned suddenly, “I bet my sisters would love you.”

“Oh?” October leaned his elbows on the table. The drink idea was definitely working and he’d lost the tenseness in his shoulders. “Why’s that?”

“They’d just love you- you’re so sweet and unbelievably attractive. Best not let them within ten miles of you or they’d drag you out shopping or something.” He smiled.

October felt himself flush. Compliments were normally much easier to take- why did Mickey complicate everything? “How many sisters do you have?”

“Four. Two older, two younger. I’m the middle kid and the only boy. And it just so happened I turned out gay- so I don’t know what my mom was smoking while pregnant with us but it must have had some serious level of estrogens in it.”

October snorted into his drink and tried to muffled his laughter.

“Nah, I’m just joking. They’re hippies but they don’t do the drug thing. At least they don’t anymore. My mom’s brownie recipe is a little too well-practiced, if you know what I mean.”

“Do you smoke?” He asked outright and regretted it, knowing the alcohol was giving him a blunt edge. He did want to know, though. Cheap drunk, he scolded himself.

“Yeah, I do. Too much. I need to quit, but you know how that works. Or you probably don’t, never mind.”

October smiled, setting the empty, thin-necked glass down on the table and licking his lips. “Nope, not a smoker.” Not to say he hadn’t tried it. Like most people, he’d tried it in his teenage years and found it not at all to his liking.

“That’s good, don’t start. It’s a stupid habit.”

“Agreed.” October raised an eyebrow. He’d always thought of kissing a smoker a bit like licking an ashtray- especially if they’d just lit up. “But then again, we all have our bad habits, don’t we?”

“Oh yeah? What’s yours?” He eyed the empty glass, “Besides bolting down margaritas.”

October wrinkled his nose, “So I drink fast. I have my own habits.” He wanted to take it back the moment it came out of his mouth- he shouldn’t have said anything that remotely referred to his career. He wanted to steer as clear of that topic as he could.

Now that he felt slightly inebriated, he could admit it- Mickey was a very attractive guy. And so what if he took Lotus’ advice and just enjoyed himself for once? What would be the harm? Besides, he eyed the tattoo artist’s chest and decorated arms, he was probably great in bed.

“How was everything?” The waitress interrupted his wandering mind.

“Great, really great.” Mickey grinned and October nodded. It had been good.

She smiled and slid the black book on the table along with some mints, “Good to hear. I’ll be right back to square your bill.”

“Ready to go?” Mickey asked, eyes on the opened book in front of him.

“Yeah. I can get half of that.” October offered, getting to his feet and retrieving his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Not a chance.” Mickey followed suit, book and bill in hand.

October shrugged, feeling light on his feet. Since he didn’t drink, the occasional alcohol he did ingest went straight to his head. He left a sizable tip on the table as Mickey walked away. He knew how much work it was to wait tables and keep up a friendly attitude doing it.

Mickey ran a card though the machine by the lobby, thanked the waitress and they left the restaurant. It was dark outside, the streetlamps and the lights from the buildings down the stretch lit up. It was a nice night, a little on the cool side, so October slipped his jacket on.

“It’s refreshing to find a place like this.” Mickey jerked his thumb over his shoulder as they walked away, around the back to the parking lot.

“I didn’t think it would do that much business but it was full. Tonight, at least, anyways.”

“It fresh and new so people are interested. Plus, speaking on my behalf, I’d be back. It was good.” He unlocked the doors to his car and slid inside. “So? Still up for a stroll or is too cold?”

“Not for me.”

The engine rumbled to life, “Great. Go home and get the dog then?”

“Yup.” October nodded, thoughtful. Mickey was very easy to get along with. He wasn’t asking for anything, just conversation and time. It made him feel something along the lines of suspicion- nothing was free of obligation.

They pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the main street.

“You do know where you’re going, right?” October teased

Mickey returned the amusement, “I do happen to know where I live, yes.”

Abruptly, October felt a little uneasy. ‘Going back to my place’ had kind of an ingrained meaning for him. He leaned back, into the seat and listened to the radio. Mickey didn’t seem like that type- his type- the type he usually dated. The more he tried to analyze it, the more questions were produced and more the whole mess confused him.

They drove in a silence punctuated by light conversations about the evening thus far, things that passed by outside the windows of the car, and generally whatever happened to cross their minds. Beneath the conversation, October’s mind flip-flopped between ending the date and curiosity about the rest of it.

He didn’t like not knowing where they were going, but he didn’t voice his opinion either. Mickey weaved through a complex development of homes, past the many streets lined with lit up homes, past bays and streets, until he turned down the one he was looking for. He pulled up in front of a very average looking home and parked behind another car in the cement driveway.

Mickey cut the engine and opened the drivers side door, getting half out but leaning back in to ask, “Coming in?”

No, he wanted to say- I’ll stay here and wait, he meant to say. “Okay.” He found himself opening the car door and stepping out.

“We keep Ralph inside anyways so he doesn’t get himself into trouble. But I’ll give you hasty tour too- emphasis on the hasty. It’s not cleaning day today, after all.”

He lead the way up a cement block walkway, up the one elevated step up to the door, and into the house. It wasn’t cold enough outside to be much of a difference in temperature, but the buttery brightness in the house was a mild shock for his eyes after driving in the dark.

It was deceptively closed off. The house was set up so you walked into the living room and could see the kitchen past it. October started to take off his shoes but Mickey told him not to bother.

“Your shoes are cleaner than the floor anyways.” He looked like he was going to laugh and then grimaced instead. The living room was a bit of a mess- clothing, gaming system equipment and DVD’s dominated every space possible it seemed.

October looked around curiously as he followed Mickey into the kitchen. It was suspiciously similar to the living room except dishes replaced the electronic stuff theme.

“Christ,” Mickey muttered, throwing a bag of takeout into the trash after smelling it, “I’m really sorry- my roommates are slobs. More so than I am, even. If that’s humanely possible.”

“It’s fine.” October shook his head, bemused. He wondered who else lived here. And how they could stand living in such a mess. He felt a sudden urge to start cleaning and had to reign it in before he started collecting the assortment of glasses on the kitchen table.

“No, it’s not.” Mickey sighed, “I thought it was cleaner than this- it was before I left, anyhow.” He put his fingers to the corners of his mouth and whistled a piercing note.

October was startled for a moment before a scuffling sound responded. A black mess, all paws and hair, bounded from up the stairs that lead to the basement.

“Ralphy- easy.” Mickey warned, stepping in the way of the exuberant dog’s mad dash path. Not keen to be knocked over again, October stood appreciatively behind him. Claws clicking clumsily against the linoleum, Ralph’s tail wagged wildly as he tried to get past his owner. Mickey huffed and grabbed the thick collar, straining to hold on as the huge black dog dragged him across the slippery floor.

October laughed, not having to crouch to pet the dog. Ralph shoved his nose against October’s thigh and sighed a doggy sigh, tail smacking Mickey in the legs.

“He definitely likes you. Or else he still feels bad about knocking you over.” Satisfied October could hold his own against the dog, he let the collar go slowly. “I think he missed you.”

Eyes on Ralph, October smiled, “Who? The dog or you?” Ralph rumbled a happy growl-y sigh as he got his ears rubbed.

Stepping out of the range of the tail abuse, Mickey smiled, lazy-slow and honest, “Well, me and him, we share the same good taste factor.”

“I’ll bet.” October kept his eyes on the dog but couldn’t smother the smile on his lips.

Mickey was on the verge of saying something when a very distinct noise came from downstairs. Mickey’s eyes widened for a moment before he flinched visibly and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

October fought not to laugh, “Who did you say you lived with?”

“My buddy who co-owns The Body Canvas and his girlfriend.” He muttered, “I’m really sorry about this. I- God, this is such a bad first impression- I’m sorry.”

“No,” October patted Ralph who refused to leave his side, “It’s pretty funny, actually.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing as the noises continued, escalating in tempo and volume.

Mickey mumbled something that sounded like ‘horny rabbits’. “I’m glad you’re not disturbed. I live here and I feel disturbed right now. Let’s get out of here.” He ushered October and Ralph out of the kitchen.

“They probably didn’t know there’d be company.”

“They wouldn’t care if they knew there was company.” Mickey said flatly and grabbed a red leash off the hook by the door. Ralph’s tufted ears perked and he stopped trying to inhale October.

Like sex noises bothered him. It was so ironic it was funny. If he listened long enough, there was a good chance he could guess what position they were in. He was spared any more thought about it when Mickey opened the door and the newly-leashed Ralph dragged him out. October closed the door behind them, smiling.

Digging his heels in to stop the excited dog from dragging him across the pavement, Mickey waited for October to catch up. It was a decidedly nice night- not too cold, but cool and not muggy. The clouds hid almost all the stars but the moon peaked out, a sliver of silver in the blue-black of the sky.

“What kind of dog is he?” His eyes did a once over of Mickey- not the dog.

They settled into some semblance of a passive walk, but a glance at the strain in Mickey’s arm spoke of how strong the dog was.

“Some Newfoundland dog mix, I think.” He exhaled, pulling the dog back. Ralph didn’t even seem phased by Mickey’s attempts to control him. They weren’t even off the driveway yet.

“Crossed with a bear?”

Mickey laughed, “Maybe. It would make sense- he eats like one.” He tugged on the leash, “Ralph, calm down.” Ralph may have misunderstood the command because he looked back, tag wagging. He twisted back towards Mickey, spinning in a happy circle and jumping up to place his huge paws on Mickey’s chest.

October raised his eyebrows, grinning. That would have crushed him. On his hind legs, the dog came up to Mickey’s shoulders.

Mickey hugged the dog like you’d hug a person, stepping one foot back to keep from falling over. “Oof, Jez, Ralph. I love you too.”

“Does he do that a lot?” He had paused to wait for them.

“Yeah, I’ve mastered not falling over by now.” He shoved the dog away, “Down.” Ralph obliged as politely as any bear-sized dog could.

The urban street was deserted even though living room lights still shone into the night. Cars were parked against the curbs and on driveways, but no one was driving. It was kind of nice.

“So, shall we stroll around the development? If its not too far, we can walk to your place and I can drop you off there.” He offered, glancing over. It was night and would be dark if not for the street lamps and house lights. He could clearly see Mickey.

“Sure.” He agreed, slightly taken aback, “Is it that close?”

“To your place? Yeah not far. If we take the main road out of the development it hits the street and your place is around the corner. Oh, better yet, we can go through the park and come out the other side.”

Getting his bearings, he understood. “I didn’t realize you lived to close.” He thought unexpectedly about Marlow’s and Cara, and then Holiday and Lotus. He hoped Lotus had driven them home or at least that Holiday hadn’t had an accident. “When did you move here?”

“Couple weeks ago. I find it’s the same as the last city I lived. Busier- but same stuff, different place, really.” He crouched and unclipped the leash to let Ralph run. Obviously he was a little tired of being dragged. Ralph hopped off happily to sniff a lamppost.

“Why did you move?” He kind of wanted to move closer. It wasn’t cold, but being close to Mickey was a nice thought.

“Wasn’t enough business in the old place. A friend offered to hook us up in our current place so we went for it. I was a little unhappy to leave my family behind, but I’ll drive out to see them so I guess it’s all right.” He did look a little disheartened, October noted. He remembered Mickey saying something about moving because of business too.

“You said you had four sisters, hey? Tell me about them.” October offered, knowing it would be a topic the taller man would be able to go on about. He liked to hear about Mickey’s life; it was interesting as well as sweet.

“Oh they’re sweethearts.” Mickey grinned, “Or they can be moody as hell, but whatever. I never understood women and I don’t think being gay is any kind of ticket to understanding the way estrogens work. The two older are Ellie and Beth, the two younger are Natalie and Andrea.”

“How old are they?” October lined up questions to keep him talking. The more Mickey talked, the less he had to say about his own life. Ralph weaved along beside them, sniffing every stop sign, parking sign and streetlamp.

“Ellie and Sabetha, Beth for short and Ellie-Mai for long, are twins and a year older than I am. Natalie is eighteen and Andrea is sixteen.”

“Interesting age spectrum- sixteen to twenty five.” October commented. “Do they have the same hair colour?” He smirked, eyeing the black and white.

“Heh, black is my natural colour. All of us have black hair except Natalie. She’s platinum blonde. We like to tell her she’s adopted and she likes to tell us we’re all adopted. I think we’ve got her outnumbered though. Although, to be fair, dad might have been blond when he had hair- which is something none of us recall.” He chuckled, “But tell me about your family.”

He thought he’d gotten him rolling too, damn. “Um, I’m not terribly interesting.” He muttered, trying to think of something to say. It wouldn’t do that much harm to brief over his family. He already knew about Austin- he felt slightly ill remembering that he’d told Mickey that.

“Come on, stop with the modest act.” He was walking quite close now.

October shrugged, looking at the shadows the streetlamps cast across the asphalt. “I moved out with my brother last summer. He’s gone so it’s just me now, I guess.” He didn’t know what to say and it was coming out bitter- he hated the way he sounded right now. Trying to change the tune, he pushed on. “I talk to my mom on a regular basis. My dad is a man of few words. They still live out on the farm- my dad insists he’ll be there until the day he drops dead. They aren’t big on the whole city idea, which is mostly why Austin and I left.”

Mickey didn’t push the topic, nodding silently. “So what do you do for a living?”

October stumbled slightly and felt hands catch his arm.

“Hey- Are you okay?” Mickey’s eyes were amused, “First day with the new feet?” He released his arm a bit belatedly.

He looked away, pretending to be occupied with straightening his jacket. “Yeah, sorry- clumsy.”

“We all are,” He was still smiling, waiting.

He didn’t want to lie to those blue eyes- he felt like they would see right though him. “I wait tables during the day.” He started walking again and Mickey followed beside him. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth.

“Where at? The place Cara works?” Ralph bounded along beside them, having exhausted all his sniffing resourced.

“No, somewhere else.” October mumbled, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Where?” Mickey prompted, grinning.

Grey eyes glanced suspiciously over, “Why? So you can show up there?”

“Yup.” He looked unashamed.

“Stalker.” October accused.

Mickey handed Ralph the leash that had been in his hand and, oddly, the dog raced away with it in his mouth, pleased as punch. Apparently it was normal behaviour because Mickey didn’t look twice at the happy dog, his dark muzzle pointed high in the air and his huge paws prancing. “Well, yeah. How else am I going to keep you from slipping away?”

“I don’t know,” October said slowly, keeping his gaze on the happy Ralph and his odd leash carrying habit, “Do you want to see me again? I’m pretty boring.”

“On the contrary, you’re very interesting. Cryptic to say the least.” He teased, “Of course I want to see you again,” He was walking very close, “But only if you want to see me again, too.”

He should have replied something along the lines of ‘no, sorry, I don’t think so’ or ‘no, I’m not interested’. But he didn’t. “Yeah. Yeah, you bet.”

A sinking feeling began in his chest- had he really thought this through? Seeing Mickey meant seeing Mickey again. Which meant getting to know him better- and the inevitable reciprocation of his own life facts.

Mickey, however, nodded. “Cool. Am I allowed to have your number now?”

Nice to hear his ‘friends’ hadn’t let that information slip too. Like most people, he liked to have the choice to reveal something about himself- or not. “Do you have a pen on you?”

“No, but I have a fancy little piece of technology called a cell phone.” Mickey grinned, flipping out the phone. The screen lit up a bluish colour.

If you were going to screw yourself over, you had better at least do a good job of it so you have a good story to tell afterwards. October relented and gave up the seven digit number. It felt like loosing a piece of his privacy. All of his cliental had to go through Chuck to reach him so he didn’t get a lot of calls on his cell. The only people that ever called him were Holiday, Lotus, and Cara, Chuck for work, and his parents. And now, Mickey.

“Great. Done.” He snapped the phone shut and slipping it back into the pocket of his jeans. If the tattooed vegetarian turned out to be a psycho serial killer bent on slaughtering rent boys, he was so toast. Ah well. Had to go someway in the end- better to a blue-eyed hottie than an old fat guy with a knife.

Ralph bumped into the back of October’s legs and he side-stepped to avoid ending up on the ground. The leash was still in his mouth. “Why does he do that? Carry his leash?”

Mickey shrugged, “He likes to walk himself some days.”

“Did you teach him to do that?” October glanced sideways.

“Nope. He just likes it.”

They walked on, down the empty street. It was a bit colder than October had originally estimated it to be. He zipped his jacket up further, hiding his hands in his pocket. Mickey whistled for Ralph as they turned off down a path between two houses.

It was considerably darker in the park- there were no streetlights. A baseball diamond stretched to one side and playground equipment to the other. Straight ahead, the shortest path across the rectangular park, were more houses.

“We could have taken the same way out as when we drove in, but it’s a long walk.” Mickey explained, trying wrestle a stick away from Ralph.

October settled on a swing, watching the game. It was a pattern: Ralph finds a stick, brings it to Mickey, Mickey tries to take the stick, Ralph growls and refuses to give the stick up, stick snaps because neither relent, and Ralph gleefully finds a new stick.

Toes of his shoes dragging back and forth in the sand as the swing moved, October was surprised to suddenly find a big black muzzle in his lap- complete with stick clamped between huge white teeth.

Mickey laughed as October looked to him for help. “He won’t hurt you. Just ask him to drop the stick.” He leaned against the swing post, “He’s only growls around me because I egg him on. He’s really gentle around my sisters.”

October looked doubtfully back at the brown eyes that peered up at him hopefully. “Drop?” He tried. Ralph wagged his tail and shoved his muzzle harder, pushing the swing and October back a notch.

“Say it like you mean it.” Mickey chuckled.

“Drop it.” October tapping the dog on the nose and he relinquished ownership of the stick. The gooey, gnawed mess was left in his lap and he picked it up gingerly. At the movement of the stick, Ralph barked and spun in a circle.

Mickey leaned closer. “I think he wants you to throw it.” He stage whispered. He shook his head when he was offered the stick, “No, he wants you to throw it. If he had wanted me to throw it, he would have brought it to me.”

October rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. “Fine.” He relented as Ralph barked- it was a huge booming noise in the silence of the dark neighbourhood park. Another dog started barking somewhere else. He wound up and threw the stick- smiling as Ralph bounded after it.

He could feel eyes on him and he looked left. His heart seized up- Mickey was doing that ‘I’m regarding you intently and wondering if I should pull a romantic move’ thing. He tried to slip into his working attitude. It didn’t work. He was saved by Ralph shoving his nose into his crotch.

He took step back and patted dog. “Once is enough- savour it,” He told the dog, “If I keep throwing it, how can you appreciate it?” He was met with big brown eyes that pleaded a disagreement. “Oh, all right.” He muttered and threw the stick again.

“It’s colder than I thought.” Mickey murmured, absent-mindedly as he watched Ralph run.

He hoped that wasn’t a metaphor. He didn’t think Mickey was like that- after all, if he would have pushed any romance, he would have gotten what he wanted.

Ralph barked again, dropping the stick readily at October’s feet and backing up, tail wagging.

“He’s going to wake the neighbour hood up.” October patted the side of his leg, “Come here- shh.”

“It’s not that late, is it?” He flipped opened his cell and stared into the glow, “Or maybe it is. It’s eleven already. I’m sure you don’t want to be out all night so I’ll walk you home, hey?”

“Sure.” October nodded. He stopped petting Ralph and got a lick on the hand for his troubles. He wiped it against his pants as Mickey snickered and they started across the distance to the other side of the park.

“So are you a cat person or a dog person?” Mickey asked, as they walked.

“I like dogs. Cats are all right too. I grew up out of town so we had a few of each along with a bunch of other animals.”

“Like what?”

“Some chickens, a couple cows, goats, and I think we had a horse when I was younger. I wasn’t involved in the whole farm thing really.” He shrugged, “My dad is the farmer and my mom helped, but Austin and I generally avoided the farming thing.” As soon as Austin hinted he was leaving, October had been on board- all for the idea of leaving the isolation and inconvenience of the country.

“That’s cool. I would have liked to live on a farm and I know my parents would have liked it. They make the best of the small yard they have and fill every inch with gardens and plants.” Mickey called Ralph to his side and clipped the leash back on when they reached the edge of the park. The street and cars were beyond the row of houses that boarded the park.

They walked down the sidewalk beside the street- the same one October, Lotus, and Holiday had taken that morning. It felt like a long day already.

“So, did you have an all right evening?” Mickey asked as October’s apartment came into sight.

“Yeah,” October said, honest, “I did. I had a lot of fun- it was nice to get to know you.” He had found Mickey to be much more real and honest than he’d expected him to be. He’d mistaken the playfulness for cockiness- to be cocky, you had to be demanding something.

Ralph clicked calmly down the sidewalk- apparently he had his run and now he was less excitable.

“Good to hear. It was a good night, hey?” He paused, letting October take the lead up the walk to his apartment.

He could always ask Mickey if he wanted to come upstairs… but that was very much against his own set rules. Besides- well, he didn’t have another reason. He couldn’t even blame it on that he had to go to work in the morning because he had the day off tomorrow too. He convinced himself he needed time to digest the evening and think about his feelings. His hormones tugged on his sleeve and repeatedly pointed at the guy with the dog, having all the exuberance of a little kid in a toy store. Mummy, mummy, I want that one.

Mickey regarded him as they stood face to face outside the front doors of the apartment building. Ralph sniffed the corner of the wall, nose in the grass beside the pavement.

Part of him screamed to break it all off and save himself from all the future angst he was setting himself up for. A more influence part of him simply whispered that he would deal with all those silly realistic factors later. Predictably, the latter won out and he stepped closer. On his tiptoes so he could actually reach, he kissed Mickey. Mickey didn’t protest.

Why his body thought it was a good idea without first consulting his brain, he didn’t know but he did go with it. A hand rested on his lower back, on the space between his jacket ended and pants begun. and was pleasantly warm despite the cool weather. He reigned himself in carefully- no need to start something that would take all night to finish. Although…No, no, bad idea. He broke it off gently and Mickey let him go.

Mickey looked at a loss for words. He blinked, surprised, and found his voice, “Good night to you too.” And then that slow, lazy smile spread across his features; infectious to all those in the near vicinity. Except Ralph, who was preoccupied with eating an unfortunate bug that failed to scuttle to safety in time.

“Goodnight.” October winked, fingers on the front door handle. He pulled open the door and slipped inside. He would have leaned against the door inside and caught his breath, but he wasn’t alone in the small lobby with a single window.

He smiled politely at the stranger, who he thought might be waiting for a cab or something. But something was wrong. The stranger was staring intently at him and reaching inside his jacket. October’s chest tightened and his mind froze up, preventing his body from even taking a step back.

And then he was looking down the barrel of a handgun. “Say a word and you’re fucking dead.”

October closed his mouth and nodded. His mind raced- could he open the door and make a run for it in time? He prayed this was just a mugging but knew it wasn’t. He remembered this man- he had the same moustache.

“We need some information and you happen to be the best source. Lie and you’re dead.” He said slowly and quietly, voice even and low. “Are you going to cooperate?”

October nodded, trying to relax his posture and failing. His heart burned in his chest and it was hard to breath.

“Where is Austin Fiest?” His eyes were sharp and dangerous.

His lips parted in shock and he inhaled sharply, “He’s dead- or gone. I don’t know-“ He found himself slammed against the wall with the cool bite of metal under his chin. “He’s gone!” He cried.

“Oh yeah? How come our boys heard talk he’s back?” The heavy smell of stale smoke made him want to cough.

“I don’t know.” He breathed, shaky, “Eight months ago he disappeared- he didn’t say anything to anyone. He’s dead- no one has heard from him.”

“An informative in the north end says different.” The man hissed, the barrel of the gun dug in to his chin painfully.

“It’s news to me too then.” He tried to meet the man’s eyes to say he was telling the truth but a fist slammed into his stomach and he crumpled to the ground.

“I’ve got all night, kiddo.” A foot rested on his side, increasing pressure, “I can break your ribs in half a minute, though.”

October choked, “He hasn’t-“ He gasped, “contacted me!”

The heel of the man’s shoe dug into his side and October shrank away from it, “I- he’s not here- I can show you.” Stalling- stalling was all he could think. These men didn’t fuck around when it came to getting what they wanted. He had to make it clear he had no idea where Austin was and quickly- or else he was dead.

“How sure are you? How sure are you that you don’t know where he is- even if he isn’t here.” The pressure increased steadily until October bit his lip and twisted away. The heel scraped down his side.

“Very- completely.” He met the man’s eyes, scooting backwards on the carpet and trying to sit up.

They both looked towards the door when a dog started barking outside.

“Last chance. Where is Austin?” He levelled the gun with October’s head.

“He’s not here. I don’t know where he is.” He whispered, terrified. He was going to die, here, on the carpet of the lobby and no one would ever know what happened to him. He was going to be just another dead hooker when the news came out.

The barking got louder, laced with growling, until it was scratching against on the door. October could hear Mickey yelling- he knew it was Mickey without having to confirm it. His heart clawed into his throat. He prayed he would just get the dog and go- not to die too. Better yet, let the hit man get scared off.

He glanced from the door to the man- his would-be killers eyes were set on the door. Kicking out the guys legs would likely result in him dead faster than anything so he stayed still and silent. The snuffling and growling continued.

A muffled Mickey was still clear enough to hear, “Ralph- seriously- enough!” The closed doors thudded against each other as weight was thrown against them.

October closed his eyes in horror. He always knew they’d find him in the end- all of this because of Austin. The gunman glared at October before turning his gun on the front doors even as the handle turned.

That’s when October kicked out- the heel of his imports hit the man’s knee and the shot shattered the glass of the one window in the room- to the left of the front doors.

“Fucking-“ Mickey yelped, ducking and something huge and black launched itself across the room, snarling hideously.

The man didn’t have time to realign his shot from Mickey to Ralph, and the heavy weight dog attached himself to his arm. Another shot hit the roof and the man screamed as the normally dopey and loveable bear-dog tore through his arm to get at his face.

October was frozen, standing against the wall and not knowing how he got back onto his feet. Mickey was caught between dragging the dog off the screaming man and kicking the gun across the room.

Panting hard, Ralph growling low at the end of his collar, Mickey held the dog off as the gunman curled into a bleeding ball. “Call the cops.” Mickey said hoarsely.

It snapped October out of his trance and swallowed hard, unable to drag his eyes away from the blood on the light carpet. “No,” His voice was barely audibly and he tried to clear his throat, “He- we have to leave.”

“Fuck- call the cops.” Mickey growled as low as Ralph, still struggling to hold the dog back.

His fingers shook but he found his cell phone and dialled 911.

A woman answered on the second ring, professional and serious, “911, what is your emergency?”

October swallowed convulsively, “Someone tried to kill me- now. He’s bleeding.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes.” He whispered, eyes on Mickey- the blue eyes were cold and hard. Ralph has ceased thrashing, but still rumbled a low warning to the still form on the floor.

“Where are you?”

“1430 Fairview Heights. North lobby.” He felt like everything was happening too slow- they needed to get away. Where there was one gun, there was always another close by. These people didn’t work alone.

“We’ve dispatched emergency personnel. Stay on the line. Are you hurt?”

“No. He is though.” His fingers hurt from clutching the phone so tightly.

“What’s happened?”

“I came in the lobby and he was waiting for me.” He mumbled, “Ralph attacked him.”

“Who, sir?”

“My-“ he hesitated, what was Mickey? “Ralph is a dog. I have to go.” He said faintly.

“Stay on the line.” She commanded.

“We’re staying here.” Mickey told him too, “Keep talking to 911.”

“No. I have to go.” He snapped the flip cell phone shut and cut her next command off. His eyes were stuck on the blood- all the blood on the floor and the dark dampness around Ralph’s face. The white canines that showed under quivering lips were coloured red.

“Look at me, October.” Mickey said firmly, “It’s okay. Look at me. Are you okay?” Ralph’s brown eyes were fierce and empty of happy doggy love as he stared intently at the man on the floor.

He dragged his eyes away- Mickey was so serious he almost started laughing hysterically. He felt sick and numb. The only thing that drifted across his brain was that Mickey was good in crisis’.

Mickey looked frustrated, dragging Ralph as he tried to get to October. “Come here. You’re okay- right?”

He nodded and moved a step closer. He was so afraid- so ready to run. He needed to leave town and everything- what if they saw Mickey too? With him?

“It’s okay, October. Let’s go outside.” He reached out and touched October’s arm, “You’re shaking and you need to sit down before you fall down.” He jerked his chin at the door, “Go outside.”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, attempting to follow the order. He couldn’t push opened the door so he leaned against it weakly instead.

“Enough!” Mickey barked, jerking the dog’s collar and Ralph’s growled choked off. He dragged the suddenly cowed dog to the door and pushed it opened. He gave October a gentle push out the door and he and Ralph followed out the door. “Can you hold onto him? He isn’t going to hurt you, October. No, don’t look away- look at me. He was protecting you, he won’t hurt you.”

Even as his fingers closed around the collar and in the dark fur, he knew Mickey was right. He wasn’t afraid of Ralph- just the blood.

Mickey stayed in the doorway, gaze switching alternately between the still form and October. “Who is that?” He murmured.

October just shook his head, fingers in Ralph’s fur. “We need to leave.”

“Why- no. The ambulance and police will be here any minute. You did good, okay? You called 911 and they’ll be here soon.”

“No, he’s dangerous.” October felt weak suddenly, the rush of light-headedness leaving him swaying on his feet. “There are more.” He protested, knowing he wasn’t making sense to anyone but himself. Ralph wagged his tail, all traces of violence gone. There were sirens in the distance.

“Who?” Mickey glanced back inside quickly and back out at October, “Start slow, what are you scared of?”

“We have to leave.” October repeated, looking down the road- looking at how dark it was outside. “Please- we can’t get caught up in this. You can’t get caught in this.” He pleaded, feeling the sudden bloom of nausea and pain under his ribs. He watched a moth smack against the outside light above the doors.

Mickey didn’t say anything, but his brows furrowed.

“Please- I can’t be, there at the police station, they’ll find me there-“ He cut himself off, knowing he was near hysterical and knowing that it hurt to breath- it hurt a lot.

“Okay- don’t hyperventilate and pass out. I can’t carry you and control the dog.” He glanced back inside, scraping at the hair that flopped into his face. “I think that bastard is down for the count.”

October watched the flashing lights turn off the main street and down his road. He started to back up, fingers releasing Ralph’s collar. Ralph followed him freely. He headed vaguely down the sidewalk- anything to get away from this place. Mickey yelled something after him.

“Stop- For fricks sake, stop!” Mickey yelled, suddenly there and grabbing his arm. “What’s wrong with you? Are you in shock? Are you hurt?”

“N-no, my stomach, but no.”

Mickey frowned, “What? Your stomach?”

“I’m fine.” He mumbled, trying to get away again. The vehicles raced past them to the apartment and he spun, starting down the sidewalk. Ralph trotted behind them, smelling something in the grass.

“Okay, obviously you’re freaked the hell out. You don’t want to get looked at by the ambulance people?”

“No. I want to be somewhere else.” They were already halfway down the sidewalk that lead to the park. He stopped, afraid to go into the darkness. He was afraid to stay in the light along the street too. He was afraid, so afraid of what was coming for him.

Mickey’s arms closed around him. It was probably meant to be a comforting gesture but he wanted to break free and run. He’d never be free unless he left everything and ran, would he? He promised he wouldn’t let them run him out but they had already done it, hadn’t they? He didn’t go out at night anymore, he didn’t draw attention to himself- he mostly stayed inside and hid these days.

A cop car pulled up alongside them in the street and the window rolled down. A man stuck his head out, “Are you two involved in what happened in there?”

“Yes.” Mickey answered for him, not letting him go.

“And the dog? Did one of you call 911?”

“Yes to both.” Mickey squeezed him comfortingly.

“Okay, get in. We’ll check you two out and ask you a few questions.” The officer eyed Ralph, hesitating, “Put the dog in the back too.”

“Come on.” Mickey said gently, herding October towards the vehicle. Ralph followed passively happy like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

All the grey-eyed man could think about was his brother. Austin was dead. Why were they after him? His debt was paid courtesy of October’s sacrifices.

Time moved in strange dollops as they moved from the street, to the car, to the police station. There, they were asked some questions- most of which Mickey answered. They stuck to the story they had no idea who the man was or why he’d attacked October. Mickey voiced his opinion it was a robbery; after all, the apartment October lived in was well-known for its price tag. Ralph got to come right in with them as the cops had their dogs anyways. They took swabs of the blood around his muzzle too.

Austin was dead. The mantra repeated in October’s skull over and over as he sat numbly wherever they asked him to. He couldn’t think about anything but Austin- Austin as his older brother, making him laugh by putting socks on his ears. Austin, excited at the prospect of moving into the city. Austin, stressed and secretive. Austin, skinny, gaunt and angry. Austin, gone.

They got emergency personnel to check them both over and Mickey went rigid in anger when they found the giant, rapidly blackening splotch of blood in the skin under October’s ribs. This began a whole new round of questions which October flatly summed up as ‘He punched me’.

After the questions became redundant and it was clear there weren’t anymore answers to be had, they asked if they needed a ride home. They called a dog-friendly cab for them.

Mickey helped him into the white cab, warning him to watch and not to bump his head as he went. The entire ride back, he shot careful glances over at the silent auburn-haired man who stared out the window.

When they piled out of the cab back at Mickey’s, it was very late- or rather, early. Ralph wandered towards the front door and waited there, obviously done the overly-eventful evening. Mickey regarded October, shoulders sagging tiredly.

“Do you want me to organize a hotel room tonight or would you be fine with staying here?” He yawned, visibly exhausted.

October knew the feeling as he was in the same position of alertness- not at all- and he just nodded tiredly. He made a mental note to thank Mickey later- in whatever way was most appropriate at that time.

Mickey tried on a smile, “Can you walk the last few steps?”

Shaking his head, he was sick of dealing with stuff tonight. His mind felt too full to be healthy. He was joking about not being able to walk the last steps, but Mickey either took it seriously or he just wanted to pick him up. Whatever the reason, he scooped up October easily and held him bridal-style in his tattooed arms.

It was strangely comforting. It was nice and warm in the space between the unzipped jacket sides anyways. He set October on his feet so that he was able to open the front door and, when Ralph had trotted in ahead of them, he followed October inside. He kicked off his shoes- a huge size of skater-type sneakers- he picked October up again.

October uttered a half-hearted noise of protest, “I don’t even have my shoes off.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Mickey said quietly. The house was still and silent save the tapping of the dog’s nails against the hard flooring.

He stopped protesting. Mickey was easy to trust and even if he wasn’t, what more could really happen to him tonight? After all the mental stress, tearing of emotional scars, and physical bruising, he would welcome some blissfully exhausting sex. Not that either of them had half the energy for it, but that was beside the point.

Taking care to be as quiet as he could with October cuddled against his chest, Mickey picked his way down the stairs to the basement.

Said basement was just about as organized and well-groomed as the upstairs. Under all the mess, there was a basement living room set and a television against the wall as well as a clothing-covered pool table in the other corner. A bar-like countertop ran parallel to the farthest wall with a sink built in it and a fridge standing between it and the wall. Apart from that, there were two doors. The house seemed like one where you would rent either the upstairs or the downstairs and have someone else living there too. It seemed they had the whole place to themselves. It was really quite huge for only three people. And messy.

Setting him on his feet again, Mickey opened the door to a bedroom.

“I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.” He yawned and hung his jacket on the doorknob of the bedroom.

Curious, October left his shoes by the door and wandered into the room. It was, well, disorganized but not so much as the rest of the house. A computer perched on a desk in the corner, on and glowing with a soft, bluish light in the dark. Coiled ring art books and papers were everywhere; on the desk, on the floor, on the bed and piled in corners. Mickey wasn’t joking when he said he designed his own work, he thought, picking up the nearest book on the desk. He flipped through it and found it packed with sketches, drawings, logos and wax-paper protected tattoo designs. Smiling tiredly, he put the book back where he found it.

Empty packs of cigarettes where scattered here and there- mostly everywhere but the trashcan in the corner. The bed against the wall was unmade but it looked soft, blue and completely perfect. Other books, published and printed ones, lined a shelf on the wall. He ran his finger down the spine titles; everything from cook books to art books, but a scarce amount of novels graced the shelf. You could tell a lot about a person by their book selection and it seemed Mickey was more a do less read about kind of guy. His books were all about doing things and him doing them in real life as opposed to reading about adventure or romance. October could think of a lot of bonus’ that could lead to- none of which were PG rated.

When Mickey finally returned, October was examining the seemingly empty fish tank in the corner.

“Did you kill your goldfish?”

Mickey chuckled, “No. There’s something else in there.” He strolled over to the tank and pointed at a fish toy at the bottom of the tank- a greenish-tinged white frog with its limbs splayed. “That’s Dawn.” He smelt faintly of smoke so October guessed where he’d needed to go. Judging by the amount of empty packs around the room, he’d probably been suppressing the urge to smoke all evening.

October peered closer and it blinked. He made a face, “That is the grossest looking frog I’ve ever seen, Mickey.”

“Isn’t she great? Her name is short for Dawn of the Dead- after the movie because, well, you get it. She looks dead as dead can be until she moves.”

“What do you feed a frog?”

“Fish.” He smirked, “I know, ironic. My frog is a carnivore. She’s some black-clawed African frog or something. Got her at the pet shop because no one else wanted her. Now she bloody well cost me fifty bucks in fish a month. She won’t eat anything but the poor fish I set loose in her tank.”

Said black-clawed whatever zombie frog stiffened and went completely still, floating up to the top of the tank like it was dead. October noticed there were no fish in the tank at the moment.

“You are decidedly a strange man.” October shook his head. He was far too over-tired to flirt.

“And decidedly a tired one too.” He nodded, “So I’m going to bed. I can go kip on the couch if that’s cool.”

October rolled his eyes, “No, its your bed. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, silly.”

“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch. You’re-“

He was cut off by a smooth October, “I never said I was moving either.”

Mickey blinked. “Oh. That works too.”

October chuckled, feeling some of the stress from the night disappear, and sat down on the bed. “Unless, you know, you’re homophobic or something.” He tipped his head to one side, pretending to be serious.

Mickey snorted and started laughing. He wiped at his eyes, amused, and jerked his chin forward, “How’s your stomach? I defiantly didn’t know what you were talking about back at the apartment- I thought you had a stomach ache and I was about to offer you Tums.”

“As good as it can be I guess.” A nice lady cop happened to have painkillers on her and, warning him to keep it secret as officers weren’t supposed to give civilians medications, gave him a few to stop the pain. October flopped backwards on the bed and pulled up his shirt, trying to see it but finding it hurt to clench his stomach muscles. He asked Mickey instead, “How bad is it?”

“It’s blue.” He smiled, and then amusement fled and his features darkened. “I should have let Ralph kill him after all.”

October didn’t feel like moving so he continued to lay there. He stayed silent, unsure of what his opinion was.

Mickey sighed, sitting on the bed beside the skinnier man. “Sorry the evening kind of sucked. Badly.”

October smiled at him as Mickey traced his index finger over his exposed stomach, carefully avoiding the bruise. “It was post-date so it doesn’t count. I had already kissed you goodbye so it doesn’t get added into the over all dating experience.”

Mickey just smiled softly, “As long as you’re not too traumatized.”

“You don’t kiss that badly.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Oh no? Good to hear.”

“Yeah. That and you and Ralph saved my life. I’m sorry I freaked out so thoroughly. It’s a long story.”

“We have time.” Mickey shrugged, eyes wandering back down from October’s face.

“Not tonight.” He said and meant it. It was late, they were both drained and there was a creepy frog in the room. He cast an untrusting glance towards the tank where the frog floated against the glass, bobbling on the bubble stream. Mickey was weird, but not in a creepy way. He was just eccentric. The attractive factor may have played a role in that too. Shallow, he scolded himself.

“True. Let’s see if we can get a few hours of sleep yet tonight. Do you have work tomorrow?”

“No, thank god.” October closed his eyes. He opened one, “You?”

“Yeah, I have appointments booked tomorrow. Later though.” He said, a hopeful note in his voice. He had a wonderful bedroom voice; husky and sexy when he tried to keep it low. He suspected Mickey was one of those people who couldn’t whisper- no matter how hard they tried, their voice tended to rise.

He let the corners of his lips turn up; so he wanted him to stay, did he? Ah, who was he kidding- he couldn’t go back to his apartment now anyways. He’d have to call one of his friends and see if he could stay with them until he found a different place. The idea made him a little sad as he had particularly enjoyed his current place of residence.

He found the fingers that traced around his stomach somehow relaxing. He glanced down, “What are you drawing?”

“Tattoo designs.” Mickey said absent-mindedly, “You have such a gorgeous, flat stomach. And tanned. A solid black design piece would look stunning against your skin.”

October hummed, amused, “I’ve never really been interested in getting a tattoo. I wouldn’t know what to get.”

“That’s what I’m here for- to entice indecisive people to let me needle ink their skin with permanent pictures.”

He scooted further up on the bed. “Do you guys charge for time or tattoo you do?” He sat up to lean against the wall the bed was against, his legs stretched out on the covers.

“The piece usually reflects how much time and effort you spend on it, so I can look at the design someone picks and quote them a price.”

It reminded him of his cliental strangely enough. Maybe all self-employed careers had the same basics- you worked independently and understood your craft. He stifled a yawn. “I think maybe its past my bedtime.”

“Same here.” He slipped off the bed and pulled the covers back. He evicted a shirt hiding atop the sheets and glanced at October, “How uncomfortable would you be if I told you I don’t sleep in pants.”

Oh, October thought, that depends on what you mean by ‘uncomfortable’. “Not at all.” He smiled sweetly and pulled his own shirt off, arching his back.

The vegetarian coughed hastily and moved across the room to turn off the lights. “You’re terribly intimidating, you know?”

“Me?” He played innocent, but popped the button on his pants as he spoke, “How so?” He had to shift a bit to unzip them.

He studied October for a moment before nodding knowingly, “Intimidating-ly sexy.” He snapped off the light. And, half a minute of pants-dropping and shirt-tossing later, the mattress dipped under his weight.

Reaching out, October was rewarded by the discovery of warm, bare shoulders. Mm, mostly clothing-deprived vegetarian- his new favourite dish. He was so eager to forget about the stress that had happened he was more than willing to get lost in whatever Mickey wanted to do.

Mickey, he was rapidly discovering, wasn’t the ‘its all about me’ kind of guy. He finally got to run his fingers through that black and white mess of a hairstyle as Mickey kissed his collarbone. He was unsettlingly gentle and sensitive.

“You know,” He murmured, “you’re a lot less closed off than you were in the restaurant.”

And he was perceptive- what a dangerous combination of traits.

“I don’t like being in the public for too long. Crowds tend to set me on edge.” He explained, hugging his arms around the warm shoulders and running his fingers idly across the skin. Had he told anyone that? He scolded himself for being too opened. Mickey was too easy to tell things to.

“So a walk was kind of a good idea then.” His hands ran lightly down October’s slight sides. “Christ,” He swore lightly, “you’re so soft.”

October snickered, “I moisturize?” He tried and enjoyed the laugh that rumbled through the chest in front of him.

Abruptly, the warmth moved away and flopped backwards on the bed, sighing deeply.

October felt disgruntled. Did the guy want a good hard sexing or not? Maybe he was wrong and he’d have to do all the work in this. Just like usual.

“Coming to bed?” Mickey inquired, sounding curious.

He was at a loss here. “What do you mean?” If he was supposed to be getting some signal here, he was missing it. And he, October Fiest, did not miss sexual signals. He frowned in the dark.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” Mickey laughed, finding October’s arm and tugging him down so he rested against him. “Aren’t you exhausted?”

Not that exhausted. “I guess.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded bemused.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” October copied. “Are you going to sleep? Seriously?” For someone so sensitive he sure couldn’t pick up a sexual signal to save his life.

“Yeah, sleeping is usually what tired people do. What did- oh.” He came to the conclusion rather quietly, amusement audibly fading from his voice. He continued carefully, “I didn’t mean to shoot you down. I didn’t think- I mean, really?”

“What?” October demanded with a bit more bite than he meant to include.

He hesitated, “Well, I mean, considering what you went through tonight I didn’t think you’d have the energy get frisky yet.” His fingers ran down tentatively down October’s arm, “I’m sort of old school with my chivalry thing too. Maybe growing up with moralistic parents and four sisters is responsible for it. More than likely, some bad relationships are responsible for it.”

October sighed, letting the irritation go. Mickey was almost too sweet to be real. “No, I’m just being snappy. I’m just stressed and taking it out on you. You didn’t do anything wrong- I like that about you, that you have so much respect.”

Mickey exhaled in relief, “You’re allowed to be stressed. This night hasn’t exactly been routine, hey?”

“Not really, no.” October sighed deeply, letting his muscles relax and calm. “What bad relationships caused you to have more respect?” He asked, truly curious.

Mickey chuckled one of those laughs that are half amused and half sad and all sheepish. “My friends tell me I’m too soft-hearted and they’re right. I fall for people too easily, they tell me. Maybe they’re right about that too, I don’t know. I might just have been unlucky. In the long and short of it all, it sucks to be used and dropped. I learned my lesson and I guess I’m not so hasty into relationships anymore.”

October could see how easily Mickey could get hurt. He tried to hold onto the downsides of the man- he didn’t want to hurt him. He thought about how much it probably would have hurt Mickey to know that the sex October had wanted would have been just casual good fun for him. Bleeding hearts always made him wary- they tended to cling. “What happened?” He asked to fill the gap.

He could feel the shrug beside him, “It just didn’t work. I was under a different impression and it ended up pretty damaging in the end. Sorry if I shy away from getting to serious too fast- I mean,” He back-pedalled hastily, “it’s not you, October. I just- Christ, you’re gorgeous and if that wasn’t enough you’re so sweet and intelligent- but I can’t, you know…” He trailed off, unhappy.

Sliding his hand over Mickey’s chest, he cuddled closer, “No, it’s not an issue with me.” Wasn’t it? He was a very sexual person- not that he needed it, it just was a good romp of fun for him because he couldn’t take it as serious and mystically metaphorical as other people did.

“That means a lot to me that you understand that.”

What was he getting himself into?

“It’s not like it’s a huge dark secret.” He tried to make it come out a tease, but it just sounded like he was personally accusing himself. He just so happened to have a big dark secret.

They were both quiet for a while. Their breathing, the bubbling of the frog-tank and the hum of the computer- which was thankfully on a black screen and didn’t light up the room- were the only noises in the silence.

“Good night, October.” Mickey murmured.

“Night, Mick. Thanks for saving my life.” He smiled in the dark.

“Anytime. Thanks for going on a date with me even though I’m weird.”

“I like eccentric.” October trailed his fingers over the warm chest, careful not to send any signals, “It’s far more exciting.” He smiled, “Night.”

What had he gotten himself into? Even after Mickey’s breathing steadied and evened into a slumber pattern, October was still lost in his tangled mess of thoughts. What had he started? What had started?

For the moment, it seemed that the sleeping man beside him was the only solid thing in his crumbling world. Strange, really.