Two Batty Kids :: Me and Polo

A rustling sound from across the room woke him, although James did not bolt upright immediately. Instead, he let his eyes flutter open and closed for a few minutes, and then turned over, naturally, as if he would in his sleep. He could see Orion at his drawers, removing all of his clothes and piling them into his bag. All of a sudden, he realized what was going on, and nearly hit his head on the ceiling with how fast he sat up.
"Orion, please, let me explain." He began, his voice high pitched and on the verge of cracking, just like a little girl's. He cleared his throat, wanting to maintain a bit of manly dignity - even though he was about to begin pleading like a lovesick teenager - although he wondered if seeming a little vulnerable and hurt might help things.
"It's not what you think." He stopped then, and thought about it, and realized that it was exactly what Orion was thinking. "Okay, maybe it is. But, it's not, like, a thing. I don't like her."
The man slowly slid down from his bed, carefully maneuvering himself around the keyboard that still rested on the floor from when he moved it in order to make out with Cory more easily. His lips tingled at the memory, and not in an unpleasant way.
He shook the thought from his mind and approached Orion, but hesitated a few feet away, and stopped. Orion probably didn't even want to look at him right then, and frankly James didn't want to look at Orion either. He didn't want to see the pain.
"I was teaching her some basics of music theory." He said after taking a deep breath. "And then she kind of threw herself on me. I didn't even have time to react, to make a conscious decision-" He cut himself short, because he had made a conscious decision. He had moved his damn keyboard, for Christ's sake! Again, the feeling of her hands whispering over his back made him shiver. "Okay, that's not entirely true." He dropped his head, looking like a kicked puppy.
"I just- With you in the hospital, I- I've been having a hard time with not being able to connect to anyone. You and Aine are my only friends, if we're being completely honest." He figured that mentioning Cory as a friend would not be the smartest tactic. "And she's been so busy... I guess I'm just pathetic. Can't stand not being around someone for more than a day." He let out a bitter chuckle and ran a hand through his hair.
"I know it's no excuse, but please don't leave. Maybe you don't want to be... a thing... anymore, or even talk to me at all, but don't leave. I wouldn't be able to-"
James didn't finish the sentence, simply let it hang openly in the air. After a moment, he lifted his eyes and tried to meet Orion's through a fringe of blonde hair. Apparently it had gotten mussed during his antics with Cory - or maybe his nap - but he felt better, thinking that he could hide behind it.

There was the faint sound of bed springs creaking from across the room, and Orion tensed, then slammed shut the drawer and pulled open the next one, searching through his things even faster than before. But it was too late. 
"Orion, please, let me explain." James's voice squeaked pitifully, but for once Orion could not find it endearing. It just reminded him of the hole in his heart, corroding away at the edges. He clenched his jaw, and punched a pair of jeans into his bag with a vengeance, as though they had done him some great personal wrong. 
"It's not what you think." Orion scoffed under his breath, but before he could laugh out loud, James amended, "Okay, maybe it is. But, it's not, like, a thing. I don't like her."
'Bullshit'. Orion thought, pausing a moment and squeezing his eyes shut against the hurt of remembering the sight of James and Cory. Knowing James could stand there and lie to his face about it made it a hundred times worse, but he did not say what he was thinking. He didn't say anything at all; just went on packing as though James did not exist. That was what they did now, wasn't it? Pretended the other didn't exist?
Soft bare feet padded across the floor, and Orion tensed again when they approached him. He flicked out the Demon Hunter shirt he was holding, and began carefully folding it, mostly to have an excuse not to turn around and start on the rest of the room. 
"I was teaching her some basics of music theory." James explained with a deep breath, "And then she kind of threw herself on me. I didn't even have time to react, to make a conscious decision-" Orion snorted in disbelief at this, and James quickly checked himself.
"Okay, that's not entirely true." To his credit, he did sound upset with himself. "I just- With you in the hospital, I- I've been having a hard time with not being able to connect to anyone. You and Aine are my only friends, if we're being completely honest. And she's been so busy... I guess I'm just pathetic. Can't stand not being around someone for more than a day."
'Shame' Orion thought, lip curling up in a sarcastic sneer, 'And here the hospital's been like a f*cking party'. 
James made a bitter little sound that could have been a laugh, then begged quietly, "I know it's no excuse, but please don't leave. Maybe you don't want to be... a thing... anymore, or even talk to me at all, but don't leave. I wouldn't be able to-"
"Wouldn't be able to what?" Orion demanded, dropping the shirt he'd been folding as he stood up, and turned to face James at last. He was met by a pair of adorable brown eyes, staring out at him from behind a messy blonde fringe. James looked more like Luke than ever, and the hurt that he was so carefully nursing suddenly multiplied tenfold. He didn't want to look into those eyes, but he refused to let his gaze drop. 
"You wouldn't be able to get yourself into bed when you're drunk off your face? Wouldn't be able to cry on your own shoulder when you're dealing with your f*cking insecurities? Wouldn't be able to beat up your own damn bullies, or wake yourself up, or get yourself food? F*ck!" He spat, "There's not a thing you wouldn't be able to do, you pretentious prick. I'm not your servant." His eyes flashed dangerously, but then he felt his temper rising, and he caught it, sighing heavily and reaching up to push both hands through his hair. His fringe stuck up handsomely as he dropped them back to his sides and tried, more calmly, to continue. 
"What you said about not liking Cory is a load of bullshit." He stated simply, as though commenting on the weather, "I saw your face, and you've never looked like that with me. Hell, the last time I tried to kiss you," He smirked bitterly, "You pushed me away. I didn't see any of that hesitance with her. You were enjoying it." His voice was cold, but not accusatory. It was a fact, and Orion shrugged as if it didn't matter, even though his chest felt tight with betrayal. 
"Look," He sighed, "I'm not angry. I have no right to be, since we never really discussed the terms of our relationship, or whatever it was. I'm not angry," He repeated, as though trying to convince himself, "You're confused and you're trying to find yourself, I get that. You were lonely, I get that too. I understand why you did it, I do. I just wish you would have had the decency to break it off with me first." His voice became softer now, and at last, the hurt began to show in his green eyes. "I would have understood, James. I would have waited while you figured out your shit, and I would have been here for you as your friend through it all. That's how much I cared." His brows drew together into a frown, and he repeated quietly, "I really cared about you, and you knew that. You also know where I come from and what I've been through, so you must have known how much it would hurt me to be rejected like this." His eyes darted back and forth over James's face, losing all pretense of strength now, and showing nothing but hurt as he searched desperately for answers, for understanding. "How do you think I felt?" He whispered, "Walking in here to realize I meant so little to you that you'd want to be with someone else without even telling me? Did you even care about me at all-?" His voice quavered, and he took a deep breath, rolling his eyes upwards and blinking quickly, determined to hold back the prickling threat of tears. 
"No," He sighed softly, "No, you did care once, because I can't believe that that night in Mayview was all a lie. That was real." He closed his eyes, nodding slowly, as though trying to convince himself, "You told me then that you'd let me know I was doing all the right things, and frankly James, you have a funny way of showing it." He smirked humourlessly, "Because I feel like more of a screw-up now than ever."
"Now," He heaved a deep breath, running his hands over his face, "I know that I'm being dramatic, and that I'm overreacting. As I said, I've got no right to be angry. We were never exclusive, anyway. But I do have a right to be hurt, and the humiliation of knowing that this whole thing was so totally one-sided," He uttered a breath of something like laughter, "That hurts, and I don't want to sit around here being reminded of that feeling over and over until it kills me. If I'm totally honest with myself, I think you were the only reason I was staying on at this place anyway. I've always wanted to have the courage to drop out and make my own way, and now, what do I have to lose?" He laughed bitterly, "I guess I should thank you. Maybe now, I can make something of my life."
With that, he turned away, crouching down to zip up his bag, then getting to his feet. He tried to lift it, then winced, rubbing his shoulder. He had obviously injured it when he fell off his bike. Sighing, he picked up the beg in his left hand instead, then turned back to James. For a moment he looked as though he was going to say something, then he just shook his head, and brushed past James to get his guitar. Maybe he could make a living playing in bars or something until his writing career took off?
As if that's ever going to happen.
He clenched his jaw, then gathered his things and limped to the door. With his hand on the knob, he paused, looking back at the boy he had loved. 
"You made the wrong choice." He said quietly, eyes flashing, "It should have been me."
I may be a screw up... But I'm a screw up who would have loved you, protected you, and supported you like no one else.
"Goodbye, James."

As soon as Orion began talking, James knew that it wasn’t going to be very easy to get the man to forgive him. Just the tone of his voice…
But then the words started registering with him. "Wouldn't be able to what?"
There's not a thing you wouldn't be able to do, you pretentious prick. I'm not your servant. You wouldn't be able to get yourself into bed when you're drunk off your face? Wouldn't be able to cry on your own shoulder when you're dealing with your f*cking insecurities? Wouldn't be able to beat up your own damn bullies, or wake yourself up, or get yourself food? F*ck!"
That hurt, but more than that, it made him angry. Orion did not have any right to say those things, because they were not true. What made him think that just because he had waltzed into James’s life a few months ago that James was now entirely dependent on him?
"What you said about not liking Cory is a load of bullshit. I saw your face, and you've never looked like that with me. Hell, the last time I tried to kiss you, you pushed me away. I didn't see any of that hesitance with her. You were enjoying it."
Of course I was enjoying it, he almost shouted. She’s a pretty woman who certainly knows how to kiss. Plus I was lonely. I definitely enjoyed it.
But he figured that probably would not help his case.
The rest of the words flew into his mind and embedded themselves in there, one after another, each a painful reminder of how much he had hurt the man. But they also angered him, and soon he found himself seething with rage, face becoming red, breathing shortened, and fists tightened up into fists. Adrenaline was pumping through his system, and suddenly he was having a hard time controlling his actions, and even thinking. And when Orion made to walk out that door, he lost it.
“You know what? F*ck you, Orion.” With that, he lunged forward and yanked Orion’s hand off of the doorknob, a feral growl rising in his throat as he shoved his hands into the man’s shoulders and pushed him backwards. “Don’t give me this pretentious bullshit. This ‘I have no right to be mad’ attitude. Because you do. But don’t you f*cking dare say that I’m entirely dependent on you. I was fine before I knew you – I managed to get around. I don’t need you to take care of me.”
His eyes narrowed at the words, and he wanted to reach out and slap Orion, punch him in the face, kiss him, anything, but he didn’t want to make matters even worse, so he simply dug his fingers harder into the man’s shoulders.
“And don’t even say that this relationship was one-sided. Why do you think I came to visit you at the hospital if I didn’t care for you? To brag to all my friends – oh, I’m tricking this loser into thinking I’m actually in love with him! Wait until he finds me making out with a girl!” He assumed a high pitched voice full of mockery for that, but now resumed his angry tone, deeper than normal. “No. I have nothing to gain from faking interest in you, so why would I do that?”
With that, he turned away and stormed to the other side of the room, although there was nowhere else to go, nowhere to leave dramatically and effectively end the conversation. Now it was up to Orion to do that – although James desperately wished he wouldn’t. No matter how angry he was with his roommate, he knew deep down inside that his leaving would hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced. This was the first time he had really given a piece of himself to someone else – and frankly, it was terrifying.
“I know I made the wrong choice. It should have been you.” He sighed and clenched his fingers against the edge of the desk, so hard that he felt like he would break his hand. “But if you care about me as much as you said you did, you won’t walk out that door. You will sit here and talk to me. Sit here and talk to me and let me tell you how much you mean to me and all the things I’ll do to make it up to you, even though nothing is going to make it right.”
The anger still boiled through his veins, hot and heavy, weighing him down. It felt as if the world were in slow motion, as if the room were becoming larger and Orion was inching toward the doorway and away from him forever.
James knew one thing – that if Orion left, he’d never forgive Cory for causing this, he’d never forgive Aine for introducing them, and he’d never forgive himself for causing Orion all of this unnecessary pain.
I knew his background too, and damnit, I messed up. He thought he was the screwball.

“You know what? F*ck you, Orion.”
"Excuse me?" Orion turned back to James in disgusted disbelief, his upper lip curling as he raised his eyebrows at his furious roommate. Seriously? This was how James was going to play it?
A pair of sharp fingers dug into his shoulders, and he grunted, wincing as his new bruises throbbed painfully, forcing him to drop what he was carrying. He tried to shake free, but James's grip only tightened, and he found himself glowering into a pair of smouldering eyes that glared fiercely back at him. 
His muscles tensed. Then James shoved him, and it was all he could do to keep from punching the boy's lights out. Had he been anybody else, he would have been sprawled on the floor already. Instead, Orion stood his ground, and allowed himself to be berated with a sense of incredulous disbelief. 
“Don’t give me this pretentious bullshit. This ‘I have no right to be mad’ attitude. Because you do. But don’t you f*cking dare say that I’m entirely dependent on you. I was fine before I knew you – I managed to get around. I don’t need you to take care of me.”
"I never implied that, Genius." He shot back sarcastically, but James was not interested in listening. He might have said more, but then James's sharp fingers dug harder into his bruised shoulder, and he grimaced with the pain, brought under control like a bull with a ring through its nose.
“And don’t even say that this relationship was one-sided. Why do you think I came to visit you at the hospital if I didn’t care for you? To brag to all my friends – oh, I’m tricking this loser into thinking I’m actually in love with him! Wait until he finds me making out with a girl!" In any other situation, Orion would have found James's high-pitched, mocking voice completely comical. Now, he pretty much just wanted to shove his fist so far down his friend's throat that he barfed up whatever other defensive bullshit he had in reserve. “No. I have nothing to gain from faking interest in you, so why would I do that?”
"You tell me." He repeated coolly, expression still completely unwavering. He held James's gaze, right until the other man turned away, pacing to the opposite end of the room. Orion just glared at him, hurt and angry, waiting for the point of the outburst. So far, he didn't buy a word James had said. How could he, with the facts so glaringly obvious before him? Either James didn't care, or he was cruel enough to inflict such hurt on somebody he actually did care about. Honestly, Orion wasn't sure which was worse. 
You're being unfair. The voice in his head pointed out reasonably, Everybody makes mistakes. What if he is telling the truth?
For a moment, Orion humoured the thought that what he'd seen had been an accident, a one-time slip-up... Then his mind's eye fixated again on the longing in James's face as he had kissed Cory, and the idea was shot down bitterly. Passion like that was no mistake.
For a long while he watched James's angry pacing, waiting for the boy to stop. Waiting for him to say something, anything, to make all this okay. But the seconds ticked by, and his impatient footfalls continued. At last, disappointed, Orion shrugged his shoulders and turned away. It was for the best. 
He reached out for the door, and as he was about to step out of the past and into a new future, James's voice stopped him.
“I know I made the wrong choice." Orion froze. "It should have been you.”
That confession was all it took. Orion's gaze dropped to the floor, and as his hand fell from the doorhandle, all of the fight inside him fell with it. 
“But if you care about me as much as you said you did, you won’t walk out that door. You will sit here and talk to me. Sit here and talk to me and let me tell you how much you mean to me and all the things I’ll do to make it up to you, even though nothing is going to make it right.”
A lump rose in his throat, and he swallowed it quickly, willing himself not to turn around, even though he knew deep down it was hopeless. It didn't matter how much James hurt him; that voice would always have him crawling back, time and time again. His fists clenched at his sides, shaking faintly, until he finally gave up and turned back to James, defeated. 
"If I had any sense at all," He muttered, "Or even a shred of self respect, I would walk away right now." Weight rocking back on his heels, he folded his arms in front of him, his body language shielding him from the world. Then he sighed, and as he raked his fingers back through his fringe, it was clear that his decision was made.
"The past is in the past," He stated with a brief shake of his head, "So don't talk about making it up to me. It happened, it's over, and that's that. All I need right now is to somehow believe that there's still a future for us. Because I'm looking at you right now," His eyes darted from James feet to the top of his head, then back to his eyes, "And I'm trying to feel what I did before. That trust, that faith, that sheer belief that somehow as long as the two of us were together, everything would be all right. Now I'm looking at you, and all I can think about is how the happiest I've seen you-" His voice shuddered, and nearly cracked, "Is when you were with her. So please, James," He swallowed, eyebrows drawing together desperately as his face creased into a pained frown, "If this- If I really am what you want, then please show me. Because I just can't see it any more." His voice trembled again as it dropped to a near-whisper, "I can forgive this, and I will, but before you ask to take me back, I need you to be sure - completely sure, this time - that this is what you want. Because if this ever happens again, I swear to God, I think it would break me."

"If I had any sense at all, or even a shred of self respect, I would walk away right now."
James looked up with surprise breaking through the mask he had so carefully worked to keep on his face. Orion had let his hand drop away from the door handle and was turned around to face him.
James hadn't realized how much he had expected the man to leave.
"The past is in the past, so don't talk about making it up to me. It happened, it's over, and that's that. All I need right now is to somehow believe that there's still a future for us. Because I'm looking at you right now, and I'm trying to feel what I did before. That trust, that faith, that sheer belief that somehow as long as the two of us were together, everything would be all right. Now I'm looking at you, and all I can think about is how the happiest I've seen you-"
Orion stopped at that point, taking a moment to swallow and inhale deeply. He sounded as if he was going to burst into tears at any moment, although James was too caught up in his own thoughts, his own contemplation, of Orion's words to really register that fact.
He thought that everything would be all right when we were together? He trusted me? He was thinking about the future? The far future - not just the next few months or so - but the actual future?
James had not yet begun thinking about it; if he'd had to guess, he wouldn't have seen himself with Orion for more than a few years at the most. After graduation, they'd go their separate ways, and maybe they'd try to keep in touch, but it would be too hard.
But now that he thought about it, he should have known that Orion wouldn't half-ass this relationship. No, he would be in it all the way, firmly devoted and completely committed to the idea that the two of them would live happily ever after - because after Luke, another ending would crush him, especially with someone he cared about as deeply. And by the looks of it, Orion cared for James probably more than he should have, for being in a relationship for such a short period of time together.
"Is when you were with her. So please, James, if this- If I really am what you want, then please show me. Because I just can't see it any more."
Was that an invitation? It certainly sounded like one. Show me wasn't just an innocent little phrase like it had been in childhood.
"I can forgive this, and I will, but before you ask to take me back, I need you to be sure - completely sure, this time - that this is what you want. Because if this ever happens again, I swear to God, I think it would break me."
Shit.
The emotion, the tension, the pain, it was so real. It was written all across Orion's face, it showed in every little movement of his. The way his eyebrows were knitted together across his forehead, the way his eyes were wide in fear and a sort of hope.
"Shit." James murmured, this time out loud, and closed the gap between them in a few long strides, legs carrying him with glorious purpose the entire way. In an instant, he had the man wrapped in his arms and was squeezing him tightly against his chest. Since he was slightly taller, he was able to rest his cheek against Orion's head, and the man's hair tickled his skin in a pleasant way. Hopefully it made the tears that had begun to flow less obvious.
He didn't know what else to say, so he stood there, trembling ever so slightly as he hugged Orion, hoping that maybe if he pulled his roommate just a bit closer that they could form a little bit stronger of a bond and that he could regain the trust and respect and everything that he had lost earlier that day with Cory. Had it only been that morning? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
"I don't want to hurt you." James whispered. "I want to make it better for you. I want to help you. I know I said I would tell you if you were screwing up, but I think I need you to do that for me." He chuckled bitterly. "I'm more of a screw-up than you, Orion. You're a wonderful person who deserves so much more than I could ever offer. I'm not good at this."
James sighed and paused for a moment as he thought of what to say next. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on Orion's shoulders, painfully aware that minutes ago he had been clawing at them, hurting this person he cared about so deeply.
"I'm going to mess up. I'm going to mess up, and I'm not going to be perfect." His eyes were red and watery as he looked Orion in the eye. "I- I don't even know what to say right now." He let a nervous laugh escape his lips and glanced down at the ground, squeezing his eyes shut and blinking away the tears. "I know I'm going to mess up and make you unhappy, and yet I still want to be with you. I guess that's kind of selfish of me, huh."
He swallowed and let his eyes slowly move back up to meet Orion's. "If it makes any difference, I will try my hardest." He sighed and let his hands drop to his sides, relieved that his speech was finally over. It was good to have the decision out of his hands. He had stumbled over his words, had trouble formulating them, but now it was over.
However, a new fear struck him then, and his eyes grew wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted just the tiniest fraction as his breathing quickened. "If you'll take me back, of course." He tried to make it look like he wasn't losing his emotions like a hormonal teenage girl then, but he wasn't sure how well that worked.

For a moment Orion just watched James. The man was staring at him with a look he could only describe as 'horrified', then he cursed and moved forward, quickly closing the gap between them. Orion didn't move at all, but he tensed when James reached him, standing like a statue as the other man wrapped his arms around him. To his credit, James did not allow himself to be thrown by Orion's stiffness, and just squeezed him tighter, forcing the warmth of company through the cold shell he'd built around himself.
He tried, tried hard, not to take comfort from the gesture, but it was hopeless. He didn't want to want it, but he did. God help him, he did...
Slowly, a long sigh heaved from his lungs, shuddering past his lips as it took his tension with it, leaving him to bow his head, closing his eyes and resting his chin on James's shoulder. The other man's cheek pressed softly to his hair, and he felt the ache inside him grow as the last of his anger melted away. At first he honestly thought he was about to crumble on the spot, but then he noticed the subtle tremor in James's arms, and registered the faint dampness on his cheek that could only be from tears. There was an instant's flash of vindictive pleasure, but his love for James was greater than his hurt, and it was soon replaced by a feeling of concern, and a longing to ease his mind, and allay his guilt. Now that it was clear to him that James did feel remorse for what he'd done, Orion didn't find it quite so hard to bear. He could move past this. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his arms to fold them around James's back, his one hand automatically moving to give his shoulders a reassuring stroke.
"I don't want to hurt you." James whispered, and he nodded mutely. He believed that, now. "I want to make it better for you. I want to help you. I know I said I would tell you if you were screwing up, but I think I need you to do that for me. I'm more of a screw-up than you, Orion. You're a wonderful person who deserves so much more than I could ever offer. I'm not good at this."
"Everybody makes mistakes, James." He replied quietly, secretly touched by the compliment. How could he possibly stay angry now?
James's grip on him slackened, and the Orion dropped his arms as the other man pulled away, just far enough to rest his hands on Orion's shoulders. He flinched automatically at the gesture, but James was gentle enough that it didn't hurt his injured shoulder.
"I'm going to mess up." He said, sounding deeply upset, "I'm going to mess up, and I'm not going to be perfect." Orion met James's watery gaze, and his expression softened, "I- I don't even know what to say right now." He laughed nervously, "I know I'm going to mess up and make you unhappy, and yet I still want to be with you. I guess that's kind of selfish of me, huh. If it makes any difference, I will try my hardest."
There was a moment of silence, then Orion saw a flicker of fear cross James's face as he added, trying hard not to hide his panic, "If you'll take me back, of course."
"Of course I will." He replied, without even hesitating. He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't expect you to be perfect, James, and I never will. I know that you have your flaws, and that sometimes you don't believe in yourself like you should, but I'm hoping that one day I'll be able to change that. Until then..." He managed a faint smile, "I don't want you to be perfect, I just want you to be you. To be true to yourself." He clapped a hand to James's shoulder, then sighed, pushing his hair back from his face. His shoulder twinged painfully at the motion.
"If you're willing to try," He murmured softly, "Then that's enough for me. We've both messed up, and we will again. We're human," He shrugged, "We're basically programmed to hurt the people we care about." A faintly amused smile twitched his lips, "I'm in this for the long haul. The way I see it, if I get to be with you, then that's worth all the jolts and bumps along the way. I admit, this was a big one, and yes, you hurt my feelings, but I'm a big boy." He smirked, "I'll get over it. It's forgiven." He stepped a little closer, cupping James's cheek in his hand, and brushing away a lingering tear with his thumb. "I believe that you didn't intend to hurt me. That's enough, so you can stop beating yourself up now, okay? It stopped being fun for me around the time you hugged me." Again, his lips cracked a cheeky little smile, and he patted James's cheek.
He was still hurt, still upset, and it would take him a while to trust again, but he no longer felt as though the world was ending. James still wanted him. In the end, that was all that mattered.

"Of course I will."
Orion was basically perfect, in James's opinion, and so much better than he was, as a person. Because despite the overwhelming crushing wave of emotion and compassion and love that he felt for the other man, there was still something eating away at him that he felt for Cory - desire, mostly, with a little bit of other things sprinkled on top, although he wasn't sure what, yet.
And it was the knowledge of this feeling that made him feel guilty, because he was being selfish for promising all of these things when he wasn't feeling them one hundred percent. He was being a selfish bastard, and he desperately never wanted Orion to find that out.
Somehow, he managed to convince at least the forefront of his mind that his feelings for Cory would fade in time, especially with the amount of time that Orion was looking at.
James listened to the rest of Orion's little speech with a mixture of elated happiness and guilt-plagued angst, but at the end, moved forward and pressed his lips to Orion's in a saccharine kiss. It wasn't particularly long or drawn out or filled with lust and longing, but it felt like a lifetime to James, and it was both bitter and sweet at the same time. His mind couldn't help but register Orion's masculinity, which contrasted so much to Cory's soft femininity from earlier that morning.
When he pulled away, he let his hand stay resting on Orion's cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles on the bone.
"You're lovely." He murmured softly. "Such a good person..." The corner of his mouth twitched upward in what was a barely visible smile. His eyes flickered back and forth ever so slightly the way most people's do when they look at someone else for an extensive period, changing which eye they focused on constantly.
With that, he let his hand drop down back to his side, but it quickly moved back up to scratch at the back of his neck, a habit he had picked up from seeing Orion do it too many times.
"So... You're going to unpack that bag now, right?" James asked lightly, but also a little nervously. "And when did you get out of the hospital anyway? I thought you weren't due out for another two weeks? Was this another little plot you set up with Aine?"

Orion had barely finished speaking when James suddenly stepped forward, and met his lips in a sweet kiss. Unsure of whether or not he was ready to accept any kind of physical gesture just yet, he froze in his uncertainty, and stood tensely until James broke away. Even after their lips had parted, he still wasn't sure how he felt. 
When James pulled back, the boy's hands remained on his cheek, and Orion felt the gentle friction of his roommate's thumb moving over his cheek in small, circular motions.
"You're lovely." James told him, "Such a good person...
"Hm." He gave a non-committal shrug, grinding his teeth absently. He was not a good person; he was a stupid one. He should have walked out while he'd had the guts, and he knew it. He was letting his heart rule his mind now. What future did he have here besides James? What was he doing risking it all for one relationship that was already on the rocks after just a few short weeks?
'Good' had nothing to do with it. He was f*cking moronic. 
He felt James looking at him, searching his face, but Orion gave him nothing. Eventually, he moved away. 
"So... You're going to unpack that bag now, right?" The other boy asked anxiously, as though reading his thoughts, "And when did you get out of the hospital anyway? I thought you weren't due out for another two weeks? Was this another little plot you set up with Aine?"
"I convinced them to let me out early," He said with a shrug, "Because I missed you." He tried hard not to sound accusatory when he said this, but it was difficult. He sighed heavily, thinking perhaps he should apologize for the edge to his voice, but the he ran his tongue over his lips, and something stopped him. 
Usually, James's lips tasted of mint, and the creamy sweetness of his usual lip balm. Now, his taste buds tingled with the greasy flavour of cherry. 
Unbidden, the picture of James and Cory flashed into his mind again, and he closed his eyes, turning his head away and bringing his hand up to cover his lips, as though that could take the taste away. The hollowness inside him ached worse than ever as he shook his head, and whispered into his cupped fist, "You taste like her."
There was a long moment of silence, and Orion felt his shoulders tremble slightly as he tried to get a grip on his emotions. Over and over, his mind replayed the image of James and Cory like a video on repeat, and all he could see was the longing and lust in the face of the man who should have been his boyfriend. 
"James," He closed his eyes for a long moment, then they snapped open, and he looked sharply at his roommate. He wasn't sure what he'd meant to say. Maybe tell James that he knew that kiss was more than he let on, and that he would be leaving after all. Maybe break down in pathetic sobs, begging and pleading with James to love him like he was supposed to. Maybe he meant to ask him to tell the truth; if it would really be worth it for him to turn away from his one future to another - one with James, that might not even exist. Whatever it was he'd intended, he was fairly certain it was not what next passed his lips, for this surprised even him. 
"I'm going to bring you back." He vowed fiercely, eyes flashing with a near-savage determination, "I'll be damned if I lose you to her. F*ck that shit. You belong with me, and only me." He brushed roughly past James, crossing to the other end of the room, and grabbing a beer from his roommate's stash. He cracked it open, took a sip, and finished in a low growl, "If it takes me forever, I will make you realize that."
I'm done feeling insecure. He thought as he tipped back his head to drink the burning amber liquid, I'm done second guessing myself, and thinking I'm not good enough. I know I'm right for this jackass, even if he's too damn blind to see it.
"Until then," Orion crushed the now-empty can, and tossed it across the room, where it landed neatly in the bin, "Just don't let me catch you fooling around again, or I swear to God, you'll come to regret it for your whole damn life."
'Don't let me catch you,' he'd said, not 'Don't do it'. And he meant every word. If James had to experiment, to test the waters as it were, until he'd been burnt enough to realize where his true loyalties ought to be, then so be it. He understood that, but the pain of knowing that he alone was not enough was too much for him to bear. So he didn't want to know. Simple as that.

"I convinced them to let me out early, because I missed you."
James couldn't help but wince at the tone of Orion's voice and turned away, his cheeks flaring up. The man couldn't drop the topic when he was clearly trying to move on. Although a small part of him said that Orion deserved to be able to talk about it - and to make him feel like crap if he so chose to do so.
There was a moment of silence before Orion's voice spoke up again, quiet and husky and a little shaky.
"You taste like her."
What?
James lifted his head and saw Orion standing there, his lips slightly parted as if to keep them as far away from his tongue as possible. His eyes were distant, remembering some past event - the kiss, of course - and his entire frame trembled slightly, as if it would explode in moments.
"James,"
Oh shit, was all he could think. Oh shit. Orion finally realized what happened. It finally hit him, and now he's taking everything back. He's going to leave, and he's going to leave me here, I'm going to be so confused and how could he do that to me, and how could I let him?
The thoughts came pouring over him like a waterfall, the waves crashing about him and the roaring drowning out all noise, all conscious formulated thoughts. All he could register was the water filling him up, bursting through his mind, making it impossible for him to understand anything but that Orion was going to leave him.
"I'm going to bring you back. I'll be damned if I lose you to her. F*ck that shit. You belong with me, and only me."
James was startled by the sudden change in tone, and when Orion marched over to him, the blonde had no idea what he was doing. He flinched away, half expecting to be punched, the other half expecting to be kissed.
But Orion did neither, and simply stormed passed him and to the large case of beer sitting under the desk. He grabbed one and popped the lid, and then quickly downed it in a few furious swigs.
"If it takes me forever, I will make you realize that."
When he was done, he crushed it in his palm and threw it into the garbage can.
"Until then, just don't let me catch you fooling around again, or I swear to God, you'll come to regret it for your whole damn life."
Was that... a threat?
James swallowed nervously and let his gaze drop to the ground once again. He could deal with mad Orion. He could figure out how to make a sad Orion happier. But this Orion, this deadly angry Orion was something new, something scary that he'd never known, never experienced before. He wondered briefly if Orion was an abusive person, and that if they were in a relationship for a while it would turn abusive, but he quickly pushed the thought away. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.
If they made it that far.
"Okay." James said quietly, his voice barely above a breathy murmur. He knew better than to say, 'I know you're the one I want!' because Orion was not going to be in the mood for his shit.
"Okay." He repeated after a moment of silence, still gazing at the floor, eyes beginning to space out, fists clenched tightly, arms shaking a bit in fear of the man before him.

"Okay." James said, and Orion nodded. Good. So James understood, and he had no complaints. In that case, Orion was free to go about ensuring that James never again sought love in the arms of another. After all, this whole thing was as much his fault as James's. If he had been a good enough boyfriend, James would never have wanted to kiss Cory in the first place. He'd said he was a big boy, so it was time to prove it. It was time to take responsibility. 
"Okay." James's voice repeated, softer this time, and Orion glanced at him with a puzzled frown to see his eyes downcast, and his hands shaking faintly at his sides. 
"Okay?" He asked, blinking at James in concern. He watched him for a moment, then slowly approached, his frown deepening as he took in James's suddenly pale complexion. "Don't look like that." He scolded, sighing and shaking his head. He was wrought with conflict now; for as desperately as the part of him that loved James wanted to forgive the man, to comfort and care for him, so the part of him that loved himself warned him not to forgive so soon, lest he find himself hurt all over again. Unfortunately, James was not making it easy to stay angry. At last, he relented. 
"Hey, come on, I'm not going to bite you." He reached out, then paused hesitantly, fingers curling back. After a moment's indecision, he cupped his hand lightly around James's cheek, and murmured, "I'm going to try harder, that's all I'm saying. I realize that I wasn't pulling my weight while I was in the hospital, so," He shrugged, "I want to show you that I'm more than that, I guess." His thumb moved gentle up and down James's face as he searched his eyes solemnly for a moment, then his gaze flickered downward briefly before looking back, and he asked, "If you'll let me..." He backed away, hand sliding down James's arm until it found his fingers, then taking a grip on them. Orion stopped when he came to the end of James's reach, "...I'd like to start right now, but not here."
He still felt Cory's ghost in the room; haunting him, watching him, prickling the hairs on his neck... He shuddered. 
"No, not here." He glanced to the door, then quickly back to James. "Get your guitar," He said, since there would not be electricity for a keyboard, and he didn't think that James's could run without it, "It's been ages since we played together, and I've got some stuff that I've been working on."
Not 'stuff' like James could do, obviously. For the most part, he had just scribbled down a few lyrics that - in his opinion - were not very good, but he knew vaguely how he would like the music to sound. That period in the hospital had given him an awful lot of time to think. It seemed a shame that all that should go to waste.
"Come on," He said, urging James toward the door, "My bike and I have had a bit of a bad day, so you can drive, if you like. I'll just hang out of the window and hope I don't rip open my stomach when I throw up my guts."

James could see when Orion picked up a little bit of the emotion. The man was confused, almost, as to why James was looking like he did.
"Okay? Don't look like that."
Look like what? Like he was just threatened with something that he didn't even know what? That he would regret cheating on Orion for the rest of his life if he was ever did it? What did that even mean?
He flinched when Orion approached him, but the man didn't hit him, or even touch him at first. After a moment, there was a soft feeling brushing against his cheek, and he looked up to see Orion's arm outstretched and conflict written across his face.
"Hey, come on, I'm not going to bite you. I'm going to try harder, that's all I'm saying. I realize that I wasn't pulling my weight while I was in the hospital, so, I want to show you that I'm more than that, I guess. If you'll let me... I'd like to start right now, but not here."
That was it, and Orion's hand dropped back to his side, fist clenching ever so slightly. James let out a breath of relief, thankful that yet another angry moment had passed over without him walking out.
Orion glanced around the room and then nodded, asserting his statement. "No, not here. Get your guitar. It's been ages since we played together, and I've got some stuff that I've been working on."
At that, James's attention perked. Music! That would be wonderful. And of course it would be guitar, if it was something Orion had been working on.
Speaking of that, it was exciting for James to think that Orion wanted to share his work, because as far as he could recall, anything that Orion had previously played and/or sung for him had been written by someone else. This was just one more way that James could look into him as see what kind of a man his roommate was. Music always spoke so much more plainly than words. People who were good with them could fashion them into sentences and phrases and poems that you could say and not really feel. But music required all of your emotion to make a perfect melody - otherwise it didn't sound genuine.
And James could tell when a composition was not genuine. Etudes definitely were not - who the hell wanted to write those anyway? - but the piece he was working on for the Opera House definitely was. Tchaikovsky was a genius, and everything he felt was always reflected in even the tiniest shifts in the chords in the background...
"Come on. My bike and I have had a bit of a bad day, so you can drive, if you like. I'll just hang out of the window and hope I don't rip open my stomach when I throw up my guts."
James sighed and got down on the ground to slide out his instrument, and then quickly got back to his feet, brushing the tiny accumulation of dust off of his pants.
"All right." He agreed, not wanting to ask about the bike. It related back to him, he knew, and what he had done. Better to not bring it up now.
The two proceeded through the lounge. It was deserted, thankfully, although James wasn't really sure why. Maybe there was a sort of sporting event or something going on - not that he really cared or anything.
When they got to his car, James carefully placed his guitar in the backseat and then slid into the driver's side. "Where are we going?" He asked as he started the engine.

Orion saw James perk up at the mention of music - as he had hoped he would - but he still breathed a sigh when he leaned down to get his guitar, and Orion was left standing in the middle of the room, feeling inexplicably alone as the gap between him and James grew wider and wider. He felt like an island, or a rock in a river, incurably stationary while the waters of life washed around him, pulling James further and further out of reach. And he wanted desperately to reach out, to pull him back, if he only knew how. 
Suddenly, he found himself feeling ill from guilt, and he couldn't help but wonder, 'how did it come to this'? 
He was done feeling betrayed; done being angry. All he wanted - wanted desperately - was for James to look at him with the same love he had once imagined he'd seen in his eyes. Because for the life of him, he could not work out where he'd gone wrong. 

Once James had retrieved his guitar and straightened up, he murmured his assent briefly, and the pair headed out in silence, Orion's guitar hooked under his arm, and his notebook clenched so tightly in his fingers that his knuckles turned white. His eyes followed the tiled floor as he walked after James, letting himself into the passenger seat without a word, and yet with a growing, hollow chasm in his chest.
Every time James said a word, his heart leaped, hoping that he was about to somehow clear the air; to offer some sort of affection, or at least some comfort or reassurance. But that was never the case. 
"Where are we going?" James asked, and Orion felt his lips tighten against the sour taste that his roommate's impersonal tone left in his mouth. Where had the love gone? Could he really have imagined it all along?
"Somewhere quiet." He answered, his voice hushed, and eyes staring blankly out of the window, "It doesn't matter. Maybe Nettle's Peak."
Nettle's Peak was a lovely, grassy hill not far from campus. It rose up steeply and reached quite a height, but the view from the top was gorgeous; looking down upon a quick-flowing river and a scattering of colourful wildflowers that had long since replaced the stinging nettles that the peak had been named for. They would probably be there just in time for sunset. Somehow, the idea saddened Orion greatly; perhaps because it reminded him of that night outside Mayview... That one wonderful night when, for just a few moments, everything had seemed perfect, and the world had felt bright. It reminded him of what he'd had, and he didn't like that. 

They drove in silence to the peak, and Orion climbed out of the car with a gnawing feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with carsickness. In fact, he was so troubled by his problems with James that he had almost forgotten to feel sick entirely. 
He waited for his friend to join him, and as they were about to start the climb, he nearly offered a hand. Then he seemed to think better of it, and pulled it back with a grim expression, hurt even by his own anticipation of rejection. He found himself wondering why he was even bothering any more when he felt so completely miserable, but he had no answer. All he knew was that he wasn't willing to stop trying; not yet. No matter how much it hurt, he loved James, and until he had done everything in his power to try make the other man feel the same, he was not going to give up. 
The only thing was, after this song, he honestly hadn't many weapons left in his arsenal. He had vowed to try his best to bring James back, but... What if his best wasn't good enough? No matter how hard he tried to feel confident, the insecurities remained. And why wouldn't they? So far, all he'd accomplished with his efforts was to push his boyfriend away further still.

When they got to their destination - a pretty little place not too far away called Nettle's Peak - Orion could barely get out of the car fast enough, nearly wrenching the door out of its track and jumping out onto the grass. James took his time, choosing instead to take his time in turning off the radio and closing a few of the compartments up front before getting out and swinging his guitar over his back from the backseat.
Then the two started climbing, and he was struggling after just a few minutes. Orion held out his hand for a second, but the took it back, leaving James confused.
"What, do you just want to watch me struggle?" He said, and then clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening, as he realized that he'd actually said it out loud. A blush covered his face and he slowly let his hand slide down and rest on his case. After a moment, he reached out and touched his fingers to Orion's letting them gently brush the skin, and then grasped the other man's hand. A smile touched the corners of his lips.
"I don't have cooties, Orion." He said with a chuckle, and squeezed gently. A gentle breeze blew over them from behind, causing the tiniest shift in his black hair. Strands flowed absently around his ears where it wasn't conformed to a specific place, and the green streak rustled every so slightly.
James sighed with contentment and pulled the man forward, and they continued climbing, although by the end, Orion was nearly dragging James up. The blonde was panting, and had probably sweat a liter by the time he finally collapsed on the ground.
"I can't move." He moaned as he lay in the grass, guitar next to him. "I don't think I'll ever move again. Just play me your music, and maybe I can die happy."

"What, do you just want to watch me struggle?"
"Huh?" Orion grunted, blinking in bewilderment at James, who suddenly clamped his hands over his mouth. He clearly hadn't meant to say that out loud. For a moment Orion watched him, frowning uncertainty. Then he slowly lifted his hand, and with obvious hesitance, extended it a little toward James again. The other man's fingers brushed his, and then he felt the warmth of James's palm against his skin, and he closed his hand with a shadow of a smile, briefly squeezing his roommate's fingers. 
"I don't have cooties, Orion." James teased, and at his chuckle, Orion allowed himself a weak smile. "Sorry." He apologised sheepishly, and he meant it. He was getting ahead of himself. Crying over spilled milk, as it were. James was smiling now; he did not look unhappy. Perhaps they'd both just needed a change of scenery. 
He remained a little tentative at first, but when James started pulling him up the hill, Orion's confidence quickly returned, and he hurried to catch up. Soon enough, he was pulling James. 

By the time they had reached the top of the hill, Orion ached. His unfit lungs hurt from breathing, his injured shoulder hurt from hauling James, and the only reason his right leg didn't hurt was that the left one he'd hurt in his spill was so overwhelmingly painful that it was rendered moot by comparison. 
The moment they reached level ground, they both collapsed, and Orion saw James flop down on his back, while he propped himself up on one hand. 
"I can't move." James moaned, and Orion chuckled softly in response, "I don't think I'll ever move again. Just play me your music, and maybe I can die happy."
"I'm not carrying you home." He warned, although he knew that if James just showed him those puppy-dog eyes, he would probably do it anyway. He tsked his tongue at the thought, then shook his head, and took out his guitar. He would have to learn to look after his own needs first at some point, but now was not the time to obsess over it. 
"Okay..." He said uncertainly, lifting the guitar strap over his shoulder, then rubbing the back of his head. "I, um... Well, I don't usually share my work." He mumbled shyly, "It's more for me, you know. Like chicks keep their little diaries; I write lyrics." He shrugged, then rolled his eyes, "Lame, I know, and the music is nothing on yours, but... Well, it helps me, I guess. To express myself and stuff."
He strummed his fingers absently over the strings, then stopped the reverberating sound. He just sat quietly for a moment, as though trying to summon his courage, then took a pick between his fingers. He hadn't really sung for anybody in a very long time, aside from the odd whispered lyric, and those were for himself. The last person to truly hear him sing had been Luke... Orion could still remember the expression on his face; the pride and bliss, and the sheer delight in his eyes. It had made him feel special, like he really mattered. When he sang, Luke had treated him like the only thing on the planet worth a damn. It had been nice, he recalled, to believe - if only for a moment - that there was one thing he was truly brilliant at. He missed that feeling. 

With a long, slow breath, Orion strummed a few chords, checking the tuning on his guitar. Then he hesitated a moment, and started to play, his fingers dancing merry notes over the strings. He started up a tune, the sound coming easily from somewhere deep inside him. Then, when he opened his mouth to sing, he stopped, slapping a hand over the strings, and looking shyly away. "I don't know..." He mumbled, torn by seconds thoughts, "It's stupid, there's no point..." He trailed off, picking at a peeling piece of varnish on the surface of his guitar as he struggled with his insecurities. Then he remembered James and Cory, and he sighed. Now was not the time to be shy; now was the time to take risks, and hope against hope that they worked in his favour. 
"Okay..." He ran his fingers over the strings again, "Okay, I'l give it a try. Let's see..." He thought for a moment, then started playing again. This time, after he finished the intro, he began to sing.

"It's been a year
Filled with problems
But now you're here
Almost as if to solve them
And I can't live in a world without you now."


His voice was hesitant, but gaining confidence rapidly as he sang. And even with the tentative way that he stumbled over his words at first, his singing was, in a word, incredible. Not in the trained and practiced way of most popular singers, but in a completely unique and rare sense. He had talent. Talent unlike that one could hear on the radio, or even in a number of platinum albums. He had the kind of raw, powerful voice that could not be forgotten for a lifetime. The emotion issued hautingly from his throat, and his lips formed the words with precise crispness, composing a truly beautiful sound that far overrode the dull thudding of his guitar notes, making his playing seem mediocre by comparison. 
As he gained confidence, he allowed himself to open up a bit more, sing a little louder, and the sound of his voice took on a whole new level of magic. 
He was brilliant, truly brilliant, and he didn't have a clue.


"All my life
I've been searching for you
How did I survive
In this world before you
Cause I don't wanna live another day without you now

This is the best thing
The best thing that could be happening
And I think you would agree
The best thing is that it's
Happening to you and me

All I'm gonna have
Is all that you can give me
And I'll give right back
Everything I have in me
Cause nothing ever felt as right
As this does right now

I'll go back to before we met
Try and erase the past
Try harder to forget cause
Nothing will ever be as good as here and now

Cause when I looked into your eyes
And you dared to stare right back
You should've said "Nice to meet you, I'm your other half"

And this is the best thing
The best thing that could be happening
And I think you would agree
The best thing is that it's happening
This is the best thing (the best thing)
The best thing that could be happening (the best thing)
And I think you would agree (whoooaaa whooaa)
The best thing is that it's
Happening to you and me

Always knew
I'd find someone
I never dreamt
It'd be like this
You've surpassed
All that I've hoped for (and ever wished)
And I'm tryin'
So hard
With all my heart and mind
To make your life
As good as you've made mine

This is the best thing (the best thing)
The best thing that could be happening (the best thing)
And I think you would agree (whooaaa)
The best thing is that it's happening to you and me

The best thing is that it's happening to you and me
The best thing is that it's happening to you and me

(The best thing) The best thing that could be happening
(The best thing) I think you would agree
The best thing is that it's happening to you and me."


He finished with a powerful note, and left it hanging, reverberating in the air, until it faded out. In the absence of the melody, the silence felt heavier; quieter. The only sounds were the rustling of the wind in the grass, and the soft, whimsical trickle of the stream at the bottom of the hill. Somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped, signalling the arrival of dusk. Soon enough, the sun would be setting. The day was nearly at a close.

"I'm not carrying you home." Orion said, although James knew that he would - or that he would have, before the whole thing with Cory. He wasn't really sure how much that the whole thing had affected Orion's feelings towards him, but obviously they were still strong because he had been right before - if he had had any sort of self-respect, he would have walked out that door and never come back except to get his things.
Thinking about that made James shiver a bit, although he told himself that it was only because of the rapidly chilling atmosphere. The sun was just beginning to settle beyond the horizon, and long beams of pink and orange were shooting into the sky.
"Okay... I, um... Well, I don't usually share my work. It's more for me, you know. Like chicks keep their little diaries; I write lyrics. Lame, I know, and the music is nothing on yours, but... Well, it helps me, I guess. To express myself and stuff."
Then why did you say you wanted to work on music with me if you didn't want to share it...?
The question confused him - as did the entire situation. As such an amazing musician, it had never occurred to him to be embarrassed to share his music. Sure, he poured his emotions into it - that was where all of the driving energy came from, to be sure - but it still remained semi-private. No one really knew what the piece was about.
Maybe that was the difference, James supposed. He was not a lyricist. Everything he made was chords and fluctuations between notes. Orion formed words that very clearly expressed what he was feeling. There was room for interpretation - or rather misinterpretation, if he didn't want anyone knowing - in his own work.
Then Orion let his fingers fall loosely across the strings, making a soft noise. After a moment, he continued, and the music began to flow. He stumbled over a few notes here and there, although James was fairly certain that it was only due to the lack of practice. He opened his mouth to sing, but quickly faltered. His hand slipped and he quickly rushed to cover his tracks.
"I don't know... It's stupid, there's no point..."
"No, it's not." James murmured quietly, sitting up. He hadn't realized until just then that he had been holding his breath in anticipation. It had already sounded so good; how much better would it be with Orion's voice added to it? The man's voice was already so compelling when he simply spoke - James could only imagine that it would sound incredible in a song.
"Okay... Okay, I'l give it a try. Let's see..."
He fell back into the smooth melody, almost as if he hadn't stopped playing. James was entranced by the motion of his hands strumming the strings - he always had a thing for hands, if he was being honest. There was just something that was so fascinating about all of the things they could do, ranging from a simple task such as stroking someone's hair to playing a symphony or performing important surgery or-
The beginnings of the lyrics interrupted James's musings, and actually stopped all thoughts in their tracks. All he could register was a clear voice, slightly throaty in a beautiful way, deep and haunting and full of emotion. It poked and prodded feelings inside of him that he didn't even know he had. Goosebumps covered his skin and there was a twisty feeling in his gut that he had only ever experienced a few times in his life. He swallowed down the growing lump in his throat and even let his eyes slide shut a bit, letting the music sink into his soul. And although he paid attention to what the words meant on the surface, he stored them away in his memory, for later dissection, to find the true meaning of those deeply powerful lyrics that obviously meant so much and were so genuine. The feeling in that voice was not feigned, and that gave it a sense of raw, unbridled, emotional connection.
When the last echoes of the guitar had faded off into the distance, James let his eyes flicker open once again, and was surprised to see at how far the sun had sunken during the music. The sky was a soft rosy glow, Orion just a silhouette of blacks and fading greys.
The silence continued for a while, as he absorbed everything, let the chords and rhythms and melodies piece themselves together in his mind. After a moment, he reached over and brought his own guitar onto his lap, and then looped the string over his neck.
"How did that go?" He murmured as softly as he could, although the spell was broken as soon as he talked, it seemed. The insects began chirping again, birds began calling to each other in the air, even squirrels made their unique little calls from the trees in the distance.
James sighed, but decided that since there was already a disconnect from the music, he may as well not even try. He strummed out the opening chord briefly, reveling in the sensation of the strings against his fingers. It had been too long since he had last played, he thought with regret.
"That was incredible." He said, letting his hand drop and the guitar lie flat on his lap. "Incredible... that doesn't even begin to describe it. You wrote that yourself?" His eyes were wide and he finally was able to focus on Orion's face. He shook his head as soon as he asked the question. "Of course you did. I wish I was as good with words. I can't write anything; I can barely speak English." He chuckled and let his hand strum across the guitar again, the same chord. After a moment, he began to play the song, his brow furrowing as he tripped over a few of the trickier progressions, but after a repeat or two, he managed to play even those sections.
He stopped abruptly halfway through and looked up, mildly abashed. "Sorry, I got carried away." He murmured quietly. "It really is incredible, though. So... real."

Orion was still staring blankly down at his fingers on the strings, lost in the spell of the dying music, until James's voice whispered beside him, "How did that go?"
"Hm?" He blinked, slightly dazed at first, and stared stupidly back at his guitar, "Um..." Suddenly, he couldn't remember how it had gone, and he found himself blushing, flustered by the question. Then, before he could stammer out either an answer or an excuse, James started playing anyway, and he was saved. He should have known that James would pick it up; how daft of him. The question had been a mere courtesy. 
He smiled slightly at the thought, shaking his head, and listened as James echoed the first chord of it song. It hug in the air a moment, then James silenced it to say, "That was incredible." Orion shrugged modestly, still blushing as he fiddled with the pick in his hands, "Incredible... that doesn't even begin to describe it. You wrote that yourself?" James looked up expectantly, and Orion cleared his throat to answer, until his roommate added, "Of course you did. I wish I was as good with words. I can't write anything; I can barely speak English."
"Well," He found his voice at last, "I have to be better than you at something, you know. And it's not like you left me many options." He managed a faint, shy smile that did not quite reach his eyes; but it was a smile nevertheless. Compliments and praise were not quite what he'd been going for, but he had to admit it was nice, to be recognized by somebody as talented as James. 
If you can even believe what he says. The cruel little voice in his head reminded him harshly, but Orion hushed it. He was not interested in that pessimistic part of himself, even if it was about the only part that ever bothered to protect his feelings. It had ruled his life for far too long. 
He started picking at the peeling varnish again, then looked up when he heard James repeat the chord a second time, then began to play. 
As they always did, his lips formed a soft smile at the sound - so much more beautiful coming from James's fingers than his own - and he marveled at the way his roommate could replicate the melody so perfectly after just one listening. He realized that he was shaking his head in disbelief. Even he didn't remember it that well, and he had been the one practicing it.  
Then, halfway through, James suddenly stopped, and Orion blinked at him in surprise. "Why'd you stop?"
"Sorry, I got carried away."
He shook his head. "No, please. You do it more justice than I do."
"It really is incredible, though." James said quietly, and Orion could hear the honesty in his voice,  "So... real."
Again he repeated his little ritual of looking away and shrugging, then going back to picking at his peeling guitar. It could use a bit of touching up, he thought. The instrument was old, and though he cared for it well, it had been - how had Luke put it? - 'well loved' over the years; like a child's blanket reduced to threads through snuggling. 
"It's how I feel." Orion confessed softly to the evening, squinting up into the brightness of the sun, and watching as the last sliver of it sunk past the horizon. The sky was turning gold, with clouds kissed in pink and orange, painted across the sky like some great masterpiece; a masterpiece he knew would be lost in only a fleeting moment. This was what he loved most about the world, he thought. Moments. They came so suddenly and left the same way, and yet it was a series of them that was woven together to compose the tapestry of life. He knew that for his tapestry, he wanted to collect only the most beautiful. His eyes flickered to James at the thought. This would be a good start.
"James..." The sun sank lower, and the light turned the river to liquid gold, and made the long grass glow with magical translucency as it fluttered back and forth in the breeze. Orion tasted the sweetness of jasmine on the air, releasing its rare perfume to signal the fall of dusk. The breath of wind that ruffled his hair seemed cooler than before, and he shivered at its touch, drawing his knees up to his chest. 
"I love you." His hushed voice challenged even the gentle birdsong as it mingled with the breeze, and for several long moments, he just stared at the horizon, watching the gold gradually recede to grey. It was almost gone by the time he found the strength to continue. 
"I realize that's probably not something you want to hear, and I'm not going to ask if you feel the same. It's too early, I know that...
And I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but I do. I can't help it. It's just one more downfall of being me; I don't fall easily, or at all really, but when I do, I fall hard, and I fall fast. And that's not your fault." He closed his eyes, "So I shouldn't ask you this, but if I'm going to get by... If I'm going to survive one more broken heart, I have to know." He swallowed, and repeated, "I won't ask you if you feel the same, because that's not fair. I just want to know if you... If you think you ever could. If you can just imagine that somewhere - anywhere - in your future, there might be a place for us. If there's any hope, any at all, then I will try until I burst myself to make it happen. And I won't fail." His brow creased, "But if you honestly can't picture any possibility where the two of us would end up together, then I have to ask myself what I'm doing here... And if it's really worth my while to carry on as I am." He breathed in deeply, and closed his eyes, pulling his knees closer to his chest, with the pick still clenched tightly between his fingers. 
"I know it's hard," He whispered, "But I want you to think, really think, and be true to yourself when you give me your answer. Please, James."
Even if you break my heart right now, that's okay. No matter what you say, I could never stop loving you. I just have to know, one way or another. To save you. To save myself.

"It's how I feel."
Of course that was how he felt; that was why it felt real. James sighed and let his eyes drop to Orion's hands where they picked away absently at the peeling varnish on the guitar. He cringed at the act of destroying an instrument, but it helped add to the old, antique effect that the guitar already radiated.
"James..."
"Yeah?" The blonde glanced back up absently at the other man, who sat there, staring off into the sunset, a faraway look in his eyes. After a moment, he shivered and folded his legs up against his chest. The pose looked ridiculous with his physique; after all, it wasn't every day that you saw a fully grown man sitting in a position that most preteen girls chose to use.
"I love you."
James could have sworn that his heart stopped beating at that moment, and a terrifying thought of all the lessons he had learned about heart attacks in class flashed through his mind. Three little words could have meant the end of him, had they startled him just a bit more. But thankfully, it wasn't enough to do him in. After a moment, he could feel the familiar pounding in his chest, and he let out a shaky breath, trying first to piece together the actual meaning, and then how to respond to that.
How did one respond to that sort of statement?
"I realize that's probably not something you want to hear, and I'm not going to ask if you feel the same. It's too early, I know that...
And I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but I do. I can't help it. It's just one more downfall of being me; I don't fall easily, or at all really, but when I do, I fall hard, and I fall fast. And that's not your fault. So I shouldn't ask you this, but if I'm going to get by... If I'm going to survive one more broken heart, I have to know. I won't ask you if you feel the same, because that's not fair. I just want to know if you... If you think you ever could. If you can just imagine that somewhere - anywhere - in your future, there might be a place for us. If there's any hope, any at all, then I will try until I burst myself to make it happen. And I won't fail. But if you honestly can't picture any possibility where the two of us would end up together, then I have to ask myself what I'm doing here... And if it's really worth my while to carry on as I am."
His usually sharp mind struggled to process the rapid fire succession of words that Orion shot out at him. All of it was coming too quickly for him to make any sense of it. Orion loved him? He wasn't asking if James loved him though? But he did want to know if James was serious about their relationship?
But Orion loved him? As in, he was completely and hopelessly head over heels in love with him? That's what he made it sound like.
"I know it's hard, but I want you to think, really think, and be true to yourself when you give me your answer. Please, James."
Give him an answer? In the hazy blur of incoherent thoughts, it took a great effort to even remember what a few of the words were. Something about being able to see a future for them, he believed.
After a while of silence and contemplation, all the while staring at the quickly darkening landscape, he moved, setting his guitar on the ground and standing up, stretching his legs. As the blood rushed through the lower half of his body, he realized exactly how long they had been there.
James walked over to Orion then, and sat down beside him, hesitantly reaching a hand out and setting it on the other man's wrist.
"I care about you a lot." He began, carefully reciting the words that he had decided to use just minutes ago. "I think I may even love you. Because love is when you would give something up for someone else, right? There's a lot I would give up for you."
His fingers remained stationary, for once. No frivolous circles, no flirtatious nail scraping. This was serious.
"I don't think I'm at the point where you are, yet though. Completely in love, I mean." He sighed and glanced down at the ground for a moment before lifting his eyes up to Orion's face and searching the other man's. The haunting pools of green seemed to swallow him. "I really do like you, though. And I think... I think after some time..." It was hard for him to say. Hard for him to shed light on his feelings to others, especially these kinds of feelings. He'd never really had anyone to talk to about them before, and it wasn't so easy to change.
"I think I'd be able to fall in love with you after some time. Some time of dates and late night talks. After we get to know more about each other." He chuckled, perhaps a bit nervously. "Because if we're being completely honest, we really don't know much about each other. Hell, the majority of our actual conversations were when at least one of us was completely wasted. I think that needs to change. I want to get to know you. I want to fall in love with you, not the idea of you. You know what I mean?"
James sighed and withdrew his hand, and after a moment, leaned in and let his head rest on Orion's shoulder. "To answer your question, I can honestly see a place for you - as more than just a very good friend - in my future."

There are several long silences in every man's life, most of which seem to follow sentences composed of a few arbitrary words which, put together, form an impact that could change a man's entire world forever. Words like, 'Will you marry me', 'What do you mean you missed your period' or, as would be the case, 'I love you'. 
For Orion, this silence may well have been the longest, and yet he did not fight it. He was silent, staring out to the greying horizon while James pondered over what he had said. Orion gave him all the time and space he could possibly leave, until finally, he stood. 

For one heart-stopping moment, Orion feared that James was going to walk off on him; frightened and disgusted by what he could not deny was a premature and inappropriate confession. But instead of walking away, James approached him. With jerky, hesitant actions, Orion tilted his head to look over at the man as he sat down beside him, placing one dainty hand firmly over his wrist. A bubble rose into the base of Orion's throat, and he felt his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed it. 
"I care about you a lot." James said, and when Orion heard how he weighed his words, he felt his cheeks begin to flush, and turned his head away in shame. This was it, then. The rejection. The friendzone. The end. 
He swallowed, about to tell James to save his breath, that he understood, that it was fine... But the grip on his wrist did not falter. Then, not for the first time, James decided to surprise him.
"I think I may even love you. Because love is when you would give something up for someone else, right? There's a lot I would give up for you."
His tongue darted anxiously over his lips, and he glanced up with fleeting hope, his whisper of 'really?' dying on his lips.
"I don't think I'm at the point where you are, yet though. Completely in love, I mean." He blushed, ashamed of his feelings, and shyly nodded his understanding when he felt James's eyes upon him. "I really do like you, though. And I think... I think after some time... I think I'd be able to fall in love with you after some time. Some time of dates and late night talks. After we get to know more about each other. Because if we're being completely honest, we really don't know much about each other." Orion echoed James's chuckle, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "Hell, the majority of our actual conversations were when at least one of us was completely wasted. I think that needs to change. I want to get to know you. I want to fall in love with you, not the idea of you. You know what I mean?"
"I know." He answered quietly, a faint smile growing at the corners of his mouth, "I know exactly what you mean."
He squeezed James's hand, then it slipped out from his as the other man shifted closer, leaning his head softly against Orion's chest. He felt his chin tuck downwards, and he smiled in earnest as he looked fondly down at James's short brown hair, shining softly in the dusk, and parted so neatly over the top of his head. 
"To answer your question," The other man murmured into his shirt, "I can honestly see a place for you - as more than just a very good friend - in my future."
The smile on his face warmed, and as it stretched up to finally reach his eyes, Orion leaned down to kiss James lovingly on the top of his head, leaving his lips to linger for a moment as he breathed in the sweet, fruity smell of his roommate's shampoo. 
"That's alright." He breathed into the soft blonde tresses, "More than that, it's perfect. I want to get to know you, too. It's as you say," He chuckled softly, "I don't really know who you are. Just that he's somebody pretty special, and I'm pretty sure I like him a lot. I'd like to get to know that guy; even his sober side, no matter how pompous or arrogant it just might be." He ruffled James's hair teasingly, then shoved his head unceremoniously away, only to toss a muscular arm around his shoulders, and give him a playful squeeze. For a moment Orion just hugged him, taking solace in the firm warmth of another body next to his own. Then, at last, he shifted around to face James. 
"So then, if we're in agreement... James Doran," He placed his hands heavily on the boy's narrow shoulders, raising his eyebrows seriously, "Will you go out with me?" A tiny, crooked smirk, "Officially?"

A bright light went on in Orion's eyes as he registered what exactly James meant; his smile was contagious, too, and soon James found a smile growing on his lips. It was wonderful to see the other man so happy, as rare as it was. Because quite honestly, the only other times that James could remember seeing him like this - with true happiness in his eyes - were after the night at the orphanage (well not after that, because that was when he was stabbed) and after witnessing James's performance at the Opera House. For some reason, it made him feel slightly giddy to know that he had that sort of effect on someone else.
When Orion spoke, his breath rustled James's hair in a way that tickled a bit.
"That's alright. More than that, it's perfect. I want to get to know you, too. It's as you say, I don't really know who you are. Just that he's somebody pretty special, and I'm pretty sure I like him a lot. I'd like to get to know that guy; even his sober side, no matter how pompous or arrogant it just might be."
"Hey," James said with a chuckle. "I'm not always arrogant. Just with people I don't know. And people who think they're better than me. And people who are beneath me. And anyone in the music world. And..." He trailed off with a soft laugh.
The laugh was cut off with a grunt as Orion shoved his head away. Just as he was about to ask what the hell that was about, Orion threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him close. The unique scent that he had come to associate with the man filled his nose, and he closed his eyes for a brief second, content to be so close to someone else.
Then the moment was over, and chirping crickets from around them made themselves known. It irritated James a little bit, to have such a perfect scene almost ruined by such annoying creatures. But suddenly Orion moved away, sitting directly in front of him. James let his eyes flicker upwards to meet Orion's which were gazing at him intently, a small smile on his face. He reached out his hands and let them fall firmly on James's shoulders; he took a small comfort in the solid warmth.
"So then, if we're in agreement... James Doran... Will you go out with me? Officially?"
James chuckled. "You're so lame, Orion. But yes. I'll be your official... Boyfriend."
He let a small smile slip onto his face to mirror the other man's. His hands rested quietly in his lap, but after a moment, he reached them up and gently pulled Orion's hands off of his shoulders. He let his fingers lace between the other man's, watching their entwined hands intently. He sat there for a moment, and then stood up, pulling Orion with him. The sun had nearly disappeared, and the stars were beginning to show themselves. James could pick out a few constellations, including Orion's Belt.
He laughed and let go of one of Orion's hands to point. "Orion's Belt." He said. "The piece I played for my audition, Belt of Stars - that was inspired by you, and I couldn't think of anything else to call it. It's a title in progress." He turned his head ever so slightly so he could see the other man's - his boyfriend's - expression.

 "You're so lame, Orion." James said with a chuckle. Orion couldn't help but notice the smile on his face as he concluded, "But yes. I'll be your official... Boyfriend."
"Oh please," He smirked, "You know you love it. 'Lame' is just the word people use to describe something that they're too embarrassed to admit is awesome."
He raised an eyebrow cheekily, and allowed James to shrug off his hands. His boyfriend's (at last, he could use the word unconflicted) fingers meshed with his, then James stood, and Orion felt himself hauled up along with him. He stumbled, for his sore leg had gone totally stiff after sitting still for so long, and it took him a moment to catch his balance. Once he had, he glanced at James, and the other man released his hand and pointed to the sky. Orion looked obediently; his eyes flickering over dark tendrils of cloud, and the first faint stars brave enough to blink out from in between them. Just as he was beginning to wonder what he was looking at, James laughed and said, "Orion's Belt."
He groaned, echoing his boyfriend's laugh as he rolled his eyes. His name's relation to the constellation got old very quickly. But just as he was about to ask James 'Who's being lame now', the other man spoke again, this time with something that took his breath away.
"The piece I played for my audition, Belt of Stars - that was inspired by you," This information hit him like a punch, and he felt his eyes stretch wide as his pulse began to quicken. "And I couldn't think of anything else to call it. It's a title in progress."
For a long moment he just stared at James, dumbstruck by what he'd learned, until at last the other man turned to face him. Under James's gaze, he could no longer remain silent. 
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Orion glanced down, and found himself starting to rub his neck as he always did. 
"Inspired by... Me?" He looked up shyly, then coughed, and turned his gaze back to the ground as he kicked absently at a stone, not wanting James to see just how touched he was by this. He thought back to that night at the opera house; to how James had looked up on stage, and the way his powerful music had brought goosebumps to the skin of everybody in the room as it reverberated through the hallowed theatre. The emotion in that piece had been palpable. He had felt it, powerful enough to move him almost to tears! To think that that... That masterpiece had been inspired by him? He could barely comprehend it, the honour was so great. It was as if James had just knighted him, or crowned him King of England. 
He breathed a laugh at the absurd comparison, then just shook his head. 
"Wow." He muttered under his breath, "F*ck, I don't know what to say. I'm honoured." 
At last, with crooked smile that could melt the polar ice caps, Orion managed to meet James's gaze. For a moment it seemed as though he was about to say something profound and deeply meaningful. Then he laughed, and punched James playfully on the shoulder. "God, you're way more lame than I'll ever be." He grinned, "And yes, that would be code for 'awesome'. Come here." He took James's hand again and pulled him closer, then wrapped an arm around his waist. His other hand reached out, brushed back the blonde bangs hiding James's gorgeous face, and came to rest lightly on his cheek. As Orion's eyes searched his boyfriend's face, he realized that he wanted nothing more than to tell him how amazing he was, how special, and how he made him feel happy - truly happy - for the first time in far, far too long. But he held his tongue, because words cheaply sold never held the value they should, and he knew this. Instead, he settled for saying simply, "I'm glad we've finally let this happen." 
Then he leaned in, feeling his scalp begin to tingle as his fringe crumpled against James's forehead. His eyes closed halfway, and each breath he drew was stolen from the air between them, laced with the taste of James; the perfumed scent of his aftershave. His lips parted, and his fingers curled gently as he eased his hand around the back of James's head, nails lightly scraping his scalp. His breath hitched in his throat as the shared air parting their lips began to thin, and although his heart was racing fit to burst, he held his ground. It was this moment - this rush of excitement and adrenaline that preceded the kiss - the drumroll, the point of no return, the sheer wanting of it all, that kept his heart thumping and fluttering in a way he'd not realized it still could. He craved the kiss like a drug, but he had gone as far as he was willing to go. Now, it was up to James to bridge the distance. To prove that all of this was real, and not just one more fleeting, hopeless dream doomed to end the moment they set foot back within the university halls.

At first, James thought that he might have been overstepping his boundary by telling Orion that his song had been about the other man. Like, that was a little creepy, he wasn't going to kid himself there.
"Inspired by... Me?"
Orion glanced downward shyly, kicking away a rock, and James was suddenly a little nervous that Orion was actually feeling weirded out and was trying to find a polite way to respond to that - because that was exactly the reaction that he would have if he were ever in that kind of an uncomfortable situation.
But the doubt faded away when the man looked up, a crooked smile touching his face in a way that sent warm shivers through James's gut.
"Wow. F*ck, I don't know what to say. I'm honored."
James let his own lips spread into a matching grin. What was he thinking before, that Orion wouldn't like that? Of course he would. Orion would be completely fine with anything James doing being inspired by him - well, almost anything. As long as it was good, or something. He couldn't think of a scenario where he would do something bad because of his roommate, but he was sure he'd be able to in time.
"God, you're way more lame than I'll ever be. And yes, that would be code for 'awesome'. Come here."
With that, Orion pulled James closer by snaking an arm around the back of his torso and pushing back his bangs, hand sliding down to simply cup his cheek. The gesture was so intimate, so gentle, so loving that it was hard for James to not avert his eyes. As it was, a blush was already spreading like crazy over his face. It felt weird to be this close to another man - the masculinity just didn't mesh with him very well, it felt like, at that moment. It didn't match the situation. Someone like Orion should not be capable of such soft tenderness.
James pushed the thoughts away as quickly as he realized he was thinking them; he somehow felt as though the man would be able to read his mind and see what he was pondering, and then where would that leave them? Because even though he was using the word "wrong" to describe this in his mind, "wrong" wasn't really the correct term. More like strange, or different.
Queer.
That was a good one, he thought, almost chuckling out loud.
"I'm glad we've finally let this happen."
Now that sentence was wrong, James realized. Orion was never the problem in letting "this" happen. He had really always wanted it, deep down. He had craved the connection and closeness, and even just James to a certain extent. Maybe it was longing for Luke at first, but it had soon turned into something else entirely. That desire was always there, though.
James, on the other hand, had been the resisting one, denying how he felt for eternity.
Somehow, that innocuous connection of words put him out of whatever mood he was feeling, but he did his best to cover that up by leaning in and letting his lips brush gently over Orion's - just the shy kiss from a butterfly's wings. After a moment, he let the pressure increase, let his hands drift from the man's shoulders to his back and into his hair.
He pulled away then, but let his forehead continue to rest against Orion's. It was completely dark by then, and starting to get cold. A shiver coursed through his body, and he took that as a sign that they should probably start heading back to the university campus.
But first, he leaned in and simply hugged the other man, his head resting on Orion's shoulder, arms tightly encircling his waist.
"I'll need some time to get used to this, that's for sure." He murmured. "I've never been emotionally attached to anyone before. It's actually kind of scary."

For a moment Orion was scared that James was going to leave him hanging, and the idea was so terrifying that when their lips finally did meet, he was relieved enough that he barely noticed the complete lack of passion in the gesture. He just breathed his relief into the kiss, and allowed James's fingers to slide through his hair, ruffling the smooth strands and tickling his scalp. Their lips parted, and he swallowed quickly, eyes flicking open to look into his boyfriend's face for just a moment. Then their brows met, and James's eyes slid out of focus, so Orion closed his own. He just stood there, breathing quietly, and committed to memory the comforting scent of James, and the feeling of the man's soft hands resting lightly upon him. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware that something was still wrong, still missing, but he told himself that the emptiness inside was a figment of his imagination, and that it would fade with time. 
'I love him.' He reminded himself firmly, ignoring the voice of logic that warned once more how naive he was being, 'That's all that matters. One day, he will love me back. And then everything will be perfect.'

In his arms, he felt James shiver, and then they both shifted. Before he could move a step, however, James's arms folded around him, and Orion found himself suddenly still as his boyfriend's arms folded around him. There was a single moment of tension where his breath lodged in his throat, then James's head rested against his chest, and Orion released it slowly, folding his arms around the man's narrow shoulders, and resting his cheek lightly on James's hair. 
He breathed steadily in and out, letting the pain and heartache of the day fade away in the safety of James's arms, until the other man's quiet voice broke through his thoughts. 
"I'll need some time to get used to this, that's for sure." He said, "I've never been emotionally attached to anyone before. It's actually kind of scary."
Orion swallowed, and nodded faintly, rubbing a hand absently over James's back. "It's terrifying." He agreed, his voice becoming husky as it dropped nearly to a whisper, "Nobody likes to be vulnerable, but... I think that you can trust me. I'm not going to hurt you." His brows drew together, and he nodded firmly. He would never do that. Or at least, he'd always do whatever it took to avoid it. "I'm scared, too." He confessed, "But I'm not going anywhere. You just take all the time you need, and I'll be right here. Now..." He gave the man's back a brief pat, and pulled back, smiling slightly. Then he rolled his shoulders, and shrugged off his leather biker's jacket. It was scuffed from his accident earlier, but it was warm, and James looked as though he was minutes away from becoming a human popsicle. 
The cruel asphalt burn on his arm smarted fiercely as he pulled it out of the sleeve and shook out the jacket, but he ignored it, and handed the worn leather over to James. 
"Don't say it." He warned with a teasing little smirk, "I know I couldn't get much lamer, but it's warm, and you look frozen." He gave the jacket a little shake, "So shut up and take it, okay?" He held it firmly in James's face until he agreed to take it, then touched his arm lightly, and nodded back the way they'd come. 
"Let's head back." He murmured, although his voice trembled slightly as he spoke, "It's getting late."
Just please... Once we're back inside those cursed walls, don't you start to forget about me. Not again.

The drive back was fairly uneventful, but considerably more comfortable than the one there. When they arrived, Orion leaned over to give James one last peck on the cheek in the darkness of the car, and let his green eyes scan his boyfriend's handsome face, committing it to memory just in case this proved to be the last time they were ever to be together in this way. He looked on sadly for a moment, then pushed his insecurities aside, and flashed a bright smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. 
When he got out of the car, Orion's phone rang, and he waved James ahead so he could take the call, waiting out in the parking lot. When he pressed 'Answer', he didn't even have time to say hello before the voice on the other end told him, "You're cut off."
"What?"
"I just checked your exam results online. You are stated as Absent for Chemistry, and DPR for the remainder of your exams."
DPR. Duly Performed Refused. He had been denied access to his exams based on poor attendance. Shit.
"Well, I couldn't help that-"
"You could have applied for a leave of absence, and you should have. Now it's too late. Do you realize how embarrassing this is for me?"
"Oh," He sneered venomously, "Well I'm sorry to be an embarrassment you heartless-"
"Save it, Orion. You and I had an agreement. A reluctant one, yes, but an agreement nevertheless. You did not uphold your end, and now I'm through with you. I no longer want my names associated with yours in any way, do you understand?"
"Don't patronize-"
"I'm cutting off your university funding, and I am having your title as a child of the Chang household revoked. From this moment on, it will be as if you never existed."
"You're unadopting me?" He scoffed incredulously, actually laughing into his phone, "Dude, that's not even legal. And besides, why would I give a flying f*ck? I never needed you. All you ever did was-" There was a click on the other end of the line, and then it went dead, leaving Orion staring in disbelief at the phone in his hand, and wondering if that had really just happened. Mr. Chang had never been any kind of family to him, but even despite that, he could not deny that he was hurt - scratch that, deeply wounded - by the rejection. In the back of his mind, a harsh voice whispered his insecurities, reminding him that not only had his biological parents not wanted him, but now he'd not been good enough for the one that chose him, either. 
'Even James still likes Cory better than you' the innocent voice challenged, and Orion growled in the back of his throat, warning it to shut up before he smashed something. It was okay; just a minor setback. He didn't need Mr. Chang's money, and he damn sure didn't need his approval, either. He would just have to find a way to support himself. And a college tuition, if I want to stay with James.
He swallowed anxiously at the thought, then took a deep breath and put his phone away in his pocket, shoving the shock he felt down into his sock to deal with at a later stage. For now, he just had to go on pretending everything was normal, until such time as he had things figured out. James could not know. James could never know. Exactly why, he couldn't quite say... Except that he had to deal with this on his own. Alone, as always.

"It's terrifying. Nobody likes to be vulnerable, but... I think that you can trust me. I'm not going to hurt you."
James knew that Orion would never hurt him. He had no way to, really, except to say that this was all a joke that he had been pulling for shits and giggles - and that would hurt his pride more than anything. As bad as it sounded, that was the only thing he was scared about. It was so weird having someone who wanted to be with him, and he couldn't help but feel that it was some sort of cruel joke being played on him.
Even though he knew Orion would never do that to him.
"I'm scared, too. But I'm not going anywhere. You just take all the time you need, and I'll be right here. Now..." The man trailed off and took off his coat, wrapping it gently around James's shoulders. The blonde blushed a little bit at the gesture - obviously that meant he was the girl in the relationship, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. The worn leather smelled distinctly of Orion, of a certain aftershave that he couldn't quite put his finger on the scent, of long nights in a forest, curled up on a bed of leaves, lying out under the stars. It didn't smell anything like James thought a cultured person should smell like, but somehow it fit, and when he slipped his arms through the sleeves, he wished to go on an adventure, to spend a weekend out in the wilderness, with just the grass beneath him, empty sky above him, and no one beside him.
How unlike him.
"Don't say it. I know I couldn't get much lamer, but it's warm, and you look frozen. So shut up and take it, okay? Let's head back. It's getting late."
James rolled his eyes and nodded, following Orion back to his own car and hopping in after setting his guitar carefully in the backseat. The other man was quiet on the way back, looking down at his palms thoughtfully. James didn't know what to say, so he didn't try to start any conversation. When they got back to the university, Orion's cell rang, and he answered it, waving James to go back to their dorm.
James did as he was bid and took his instrument back to the room.
As he sat on the bed, he began to strum out a few of the chords from Orion's song, trying to recall a few of the words. He hummed the tune, since he knew he couldn't sing to save his life. It was nice. Special. Heartfelt. Meaningful.
Those were all good words, and important to any piece of music.

The shock was such that it took his breath away, but once Orion's pulse had calmed again and he was breathing steady, he quickly composed himself and headed up the stairs to his room, to where he knew James was waiting. He knocked on the door, still haunted by the last time he'd barged in, then stepped inside and closed it behind him, locking it for good measure. He locked it every night, since the run-in with Blondie. The faint chemical scent of the Chloroform had never left their carpet. 
"Still playing?" He asked with a smile as he saw James perched on his bed, guitar on his lap. "Great, then we can jam!"
He flashed a grin, then tossed his own guitar onto James's bed and vaulted up beside him. The two sat together and played until they got tired. Then Orion kissed James's cheek and wished him goodnight, and they each went off to sleep. 

Over the next couple of weeks, everything began to change. Orion missed more classes than he attended, for he was out most days searching for work, although he never told James that. The job market, as it turned out, was in a sorry state, and no matter how he tried, he could not find a thing. 
Despite the financial worries, he made every effort to be a good boyfriend to James in that time. Whether it was a stolen compliment or a little whispered reassurance, he always had something nice to say, and was quick to listen when James wanted to talk. He began leaving him little gifts, too. Silly things, like a fancy guitar pick, or a new tub of his favourite hair gel. Once, when he was feeling particularly gay, he even resorted to leaving James a box of cherry liqueur chocolates. Of course, the gifts did nothing to help his situation, and by the end of the first week, he was issued a letter stating that his fees were overdue, and that if they weren't paid in full by the end of the month, he would be asked to leave. The aftermath of this was a few days spent in gloomy despair, which he blamed on an illness that did not exist. When he managed to go out looking for work again, something finally came up, halfway through the second week after Mr. Chang had cut off his funding. This was when things changed in earnest. 

Orion became distant, pensive, and stopped attending morning lectures altogether. He would spend his afternoons with James, always warm and cheerful for his boyfriend's benefit, only to leave every evening, usually with a quick peck or a squeeze, and a warning not to wake him up in the morning. When asked what it was that he did, he would just answer evasively that it was a part time job, and refused to divulge any more. 
His nights, however, did not clock in until four, at which point he would arrive inexplicably covered in glitter and reeking of cheap perfume. Then he would stay in the shower until the hot water ran out, before finally falling into bed without quite losing the sickly sweet scent. He slept until ten every morning, and usually met with James at lunch, acting as mellow and bright as ever. If he was miserable, then he gave no indication of it. However, as the month wore on, his smiles seemed to become sweeter, and the lines around his eyes grew deeper. He was taking strain, and no matter how he tried to hide it, it showed. 

One night, he came back looking truly defeated. It was five minutes after four AM when he crept in the door, looking exhausted and faintly nauseated. He reeked of perfume, cigarette smoke and peanuts, and his long hair was messy and disheveled in a way that - for perhaps the first time - did not flatter him. This day, he did not head straight for the shower. Despairing and hopeless, he climbed quietly onto his bed, and sat there with his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut against the heavy darkness. He was a man on the edge, and he was suffering. Now, it seemed as though it was finally becoming too much to bear.