Archive of Our Own

Andrew wasn’t one for dramatics, but he was probably the best older brother in the entire world. The entire universe, if whatever other life forms lurking around out there considered siblings as more than potential nutrition, which was maybe the way Andrew should have thought of Aaron in the womb.

Brothers sucked, except for when you had one like Andrew, of course, but Andrew didn’t because Andrew was stuck with Aaron. And Aaron had managed to double-book his classes this term and somehow managed to make that Andrew’s problem.

Because Andrew knew how to create a timetable. Andrew knew that he wouldn’t get up before eight and knew how to choose one class for each time slot he had (and one class only), and Andrew also knew how to give himself ample free periods between classes to recover from having to (potentially) interact with people.

All of that translated to him having nothing to do Wednesday morning, which was when Aaron was now legally required to be in two places at the same time. And because they shared a face (even if Andrew wore it better) and because he was an amazing older brother and very susceptible to bribery if the bribery happened to be three pints of ice cream per class attended, Andrew agreed to go to one of the classes in Aaron’s stead.

Best older brother in the entire world slash universe. He wanted that on a mug. And he wanted Aaron to hand that mug to him.

One of the classes was introduction-level psychology, the other one had both math and advanced and a lot of other words in its name. One guess as to which one Andrew had attended for the last few weeks.

The problem now was that midterms were coming up, and that last week, Aaron had received an email about his lack of engagement and participation in the psychology class he wasn’t actually attending (the deal had been physical presence, nothing more; Andrew wouldn't be caught dead raising his hand during class). So. After some threatening and groveling and begging and, finally, an increase of Andrew’s weekly ice cream tax from three to four pints and being called an extortionist by his own flesh and blood, Andrew had gracefully agreed to go and stare into nothing for an hour in a different classroom than usual.

Bestest one-of-a-kind older brother at this point, really.

He kind of wanted to turn tail and go back on his deal when he arrived at the maths department Wednesday morning and saw the people bustling about around the building, being nerds. With their glasses and their ugly sweaters and their checkered shirts and their ties.

What the fuck. He was way too cool to be seen around those people. He didn’t want to be associated with any of them. He had taste.

Luckily, he’d come in disguise (a sweater that was dark gray instead of black and his hair styled a bit to the right instead of his usual left) and armed (literally but also with a triple chocolate caramel syrup macchiato monstrosity). He’d just have to… be brave, go in there, find a seat far away from any of the nerds and zone out for an hour. Easy. Just what he did every time Kevin started his unrealized-fitness-potential spiel: create distance and stop listening.

He took a deep breath. A sip of his triple chocolate caramel syrup macchiato. Braced himself. Went in.

And was immediately disgusted by everything and everyone. The inside of the building was sleek and clean and modern. More nerds were everywhere. They probably had great wifi.

His body protested being here down to its molecules. Because even his molecules had great taste.

This would be harder than expected. There had been a few cute guys he could stare at in the psychology class, at least, even if their fervor in taking notes and the fact that they actually raised their hands when the professor asked stuff was extremely off-putting. But here? No such luck. He wouldn’t ruin his eyeballs by subjecting them to guys that were the embodiment of the color beige. His poor eyeballs.

He dragged his feet. Maybe if he came too late the professor would lock the hall from the inside or something.

The professor did not lock the hall from the inside or something. The professor was also, surprisingly, no senile old man but an energetic young woman. Too energetic for the subject and time of day, but what did Andrew care. He was here for ice cream, not numbers.

The last few rows of sets were mostly empty, as if physical proximity to the blackboard would make things in here more interesting. This suited Andrew just fine. He didn’t stop until he reached the very last row, one end of which was already taken by what had to be a loser of extraordinary proportions if even the math nerds ostracized him (Andrew was here by choice, which was different, thank you very much). Andrew took the other end, the point in the room farthest away from everyone else.

And there he sat. With his triple chocolate caramel syrup macchiato that was already half empty (he should’ve brought a second one, now that would’ve been a power move) and the notebook and pen that were props he wasn’t going to actually use and a room full of people not worthy of his attention.

It got old very quickly. He watched the professor bounce around at the front for five minutes and imagined she’d trip and fall in a way that would cover the front-row nerds in a spray of blood. That was fun. Then he took a glance at the board, which was covered in alien symbols. Maybe the professor was an alien. Maybe they were all aliens, actually. That would make a lot of sense.

And then… And then. He was coaxed out of his deep musings by a stare at the side of his head. Heavy enough to feel almost tangible.

He turned his head without moving the rest of his body in a low-budget horror movie kind of way, because if he could scare whatever math kid was currently staring at him enough to leave lasting psychological damage, he’d count this day as a win.

It wasn’t a math kid with glasses and ties and a general aura of experiencing the world for the first time.

It was… something.

It was a guy, for sure. The thing was, the guy gave the impression of a squirrel on crack. But, like, hot.

He was the other occupant of the last row. Sat in his shadowy corner, body turned sideways, and stared. With very, very blue eyes. And very red hair. And a very scared face. And a lot of nervous energy, enough to reach Andrew a dozen seats over. And a very nice mouth.

The hot squirrel guy blinked when he realized he’d been caught staring, but didn’t stop. There was a slight frown on his (pretty) face, as if something about Andrew (who was currently Aaron) was very confusing to him. And there was weariness, written all over his expression and the way he held himself.

Andrew thought of a couple of explanations for his behavior (because he had little else to do and the guy was fascinating, in a weird might-have-rabies kind of way).

A: He was a junkie and currently tripping to hell and back, which, considering the guy’s clothes and energy, was the most likely explanation.

B: He was here for the first time and saw Andrew (as Aaron) and fell in love on first sight and was fighting the urge to come over and confess his feelings.

C: He was Aaron’s friend and they had some weird little nerd ritual like a special handshake or something and now his feelings were hurt because Aaron (who was actually Andrew) hadn’t immediately come over to great him and do the nerd ritual. This one was the most unlikely. Because Aaron didn’t have friends and also he would’ve given Andrew a briefing on the nerd ritual so that Andrew could've refused to do it or bargained for more ice cream.

Andrew liked option B best so he decided to go with that one. He tilted his head at the guy in a way that said What’s your problem but also Look at my jawline, isn’t it sharp, want to lick? The guy’s eyes narrowed. Message not received, it seemed.

The guy's leg was bouncing, as if he were about to jump up and flee through the closest exit. His eyes went from the unused notebook in front of Andrew to his forearms, where two inches of his armbands peeked out from beneath his sleeves, and narrowed further. Andrew had the sudden feeling that the guy had clocked him. Everything about him. The fact that he was armed, and more; the fact that he wasn’t Aaron.

But that was impossible.

Kevin still made mistakes, after years of rooming with them. Nicky was almost flawless, sure, but Nicky had known them for nearly a decade. Aaron’s girlfriend of two years still erred sometimes. And that despite context clues and knowing them.

So. Impossible. There was no way this guy had seen through him after only a few minutes of just looking at him (except, of course, if it was option C and that guy was actually Aaron’s best friend that Andrew had never heard about).

Considering these improbabilities, Andrew got more and more set on option B. The guy had to be in love with him. And, well. Andrew was not exactly opposed. Sure, squirrel-guy could have brushed his hair some time during the last month. And sure, he could dress… better. Different. Whatever he was doing now, not that.

Luckily and astonishingly, none of those aspects diminished the overall prettiness in any way. And Andrew recognized a waist when he saw one. Even through all those layers.

The entire fucked-up façade just made what was beneath more interesting (Andrew was still talking about the guy’s waist, to be clear, personalities were only rarely appealing).

They continued to stare at each other, over the next forty or so minutes. Andrew dubbed him rabbit because the guy seemed to be trying to one-up Thumper, with the way his leg was bouncing.

While the rabbit was doing some intense glaring, Andrew was imagining their imminent future together. Imminent as in right after class. Where there broom closets in this cursed building? There had to be, right? Brooms were a universal thing. Numbers didn’t sweep floors.

So a broom closet. Twenty minutes. Or maybe a little more, enough to unravel whatever astronomical number of secrets the rabbit was hiding. Or the broom closet, and then the unraveling.

Now that sounded like a plan.

He thought about what he’d say. He could swagger over while the rabbit packed up his stuff. Except the rabbit had no stuff and sat there with just the horrible clothes on his back. If it came down to it, he’d be faster than Andrew, probably. That nervous energy looked explosive.

So he’d swagger only to the row between seats, blocking the way out until the rabbit came to Andrew all by himself. He’d have to cross his arms a bit, show off his shoulders and biceps. He didn’t went to the gym five times a week to not flex when talking to hot and potentially insane people.

And then he’d say… Hey. What’s up?

Andrew cringed away from the idea. Hey? What’s up? Really? What was he, a jock? A frat bro? Hell no.

He’d have to think of something better. Something that conveyed horniness, but in a more refined way. Like…

“And that’s it for today,” Professor Bouncy exclaimed from the front, interrupting Andrew’s refined horny thought processes. He shook himself out of the hypnosis the rabbit had put him under and noticed that the rest of the students was already moving, shuffling around, making towards the exit or the blackboard to play teacher’s pet.

When he remembered his plan and looked up to check if the rabbit was following his own part in it, the guy was already on his way over. Okay then.

Andrew had enough time to scramble to his feet (the guy was only a few inches taller than him; nice, a distant part of his brain noted) before the rabbit was on him, stopping in front of Andrew’s desk. Just out of arm’s reach, an entirely different part of his brain noted. Interesting.

“What,” the guy demanded (a heartfelt yes on the voice, although Andrew was very curious about how much better it would sound echoing in the aforementioned broom closet, all breathy and desperate). “What is this?” the rabbit motioned at Andrew. The scars extended onto his hands, long slashes and round, shiny burn marks, as if someone had played tic tac toe on his skin.

Andrew, unable to answer, continued staring, utterly fascinated. The rabbit’s eyes were flashing with indignation. His hands were too steady for drugs, his pupils normal-sized (take that, option A!). He was a fucking vision. Even better up close, somehow, which was rare.

The rabbit didn’t wait for him to speak. “Last time you were nothing,” he thundered, ignoring the few heads that turned their way. “And now you’re… What is this?” he demanded again, expression furious.

Andrew opened his mouth to reply to that. “Hey,” came out instead, followed by a nod that made him want to bash his own head in. “What’s up?”

Oh. Oh, the horror!

What was happening? How deep had he fallen? One angry pretty boy and he turned into a bro?

His life was over.

The rabbit did him a favor and ignored the bout of stupidity entirely. “I’ll be watching you,” he said instead, all furiously and intensely and insanely, just like Andrew liked them.

And then the rabbit turned and left, growling at the pathetic nerds close by until they jumped out of his way.

Andrew stared after him with an unfamiliar feeling inside his chest. Slowly, he could feel the corner of his mouth tick up.

This would be fun.

He suddenly couldn’t wait until next Wednesday.

The rabbit became a topic again that very same evening, when Aaron came home from his last class. He slammed the door of the dorm they shared with Kevin shut and stomped into the kitchen, as if his face alone wasn’t indicator enough to tell people he was Not In A Good Mood TM.

“What the fuck did you do those past four weeks?” he snarled at Andrew. “Play with your knifes and glare at people? Why is everyone afraid of me?”

Andrew shrugged. That was exactly what he’d done.

“Urgh.” Aaron fell into the seat across from Kevin, who didn’t bother looking up from the blended leaves he was consuming behind his history tome. “You are the worst. Tell me you didn’t pull the same shit today.”

There was an opening if Andrew had ever seen one. “Do you have friends?”

Aaron immediately bristled, taking it as an insult and therefore the entirely wrong way (Andrew would literally never insult his brother, Aaron was too much of a pathetic loser to be able to handle his insults). “Shut up. I have friends. I’m not like you. I have Kevin.” He pointed at Kevin, who made a disgusting slurping sound as his green soup got stuck in his straw or his throat or somewhere. Aaron shuddered with a grimace. Andrew would never do something so emotive, but he agreed.

“Kevin’s my friend, first of all,” Andrew corrected. “I saw him first.”

“Just because he’s your friend doesn’t mean he can’t be mine too. Plus, he likes me better.”

They both looked towards Kevin, who didn’t spare them a single glance. “I like both of you equally little,” he told them, and then cursed because he’d splattered some of his green disgustingness on his face like a toddler. Karma was beautiful (as long as it didn’t happen to Andrew).

“Not my point anyways,” Andrew hurried to say now that he hadn’t won the argument. “I mean in that math class. Is there someone you talk to?”

Aaron’s face did a thing that Andrew could entirely relate to. “I don’t talk to people who study math. Why?”

“Some guy was staring at me.”

“Some guy?” Aaron frowned. “Who?”

Andrew shrugged. “Last row. Looks like someone you’d tell children to stay far away from.”

“Ah.” Aaron nodded. “That’s Josten. Stay far away from him.”

“You know him?”

Aaron scowled. “No.”

“You know his name.”

“I know his name because the prof had to call it out three times at the beginning of the semester. As if he doesn’t know it’s his. I’m serious, Andrew.” Aaron pointed at him. “The guy is weird as hell. There’s something seriously wrong him him. Stay away.”

Andrew recalled the way Josten’s pretty mouth had formed his furious words. “I don’t think I will.”

Aaron threw his arms in the air, then put his head on the table in defeat. “You’re so gay.”

“You’re gay?” Kevin had finally deigned to grace them with his attention. “You?”

Andrew only stared at him, knowing full well that Kevin had caught the occasional guy doing the walk of shame out of Andrew’s room. He couldn’t possibly imagine what Kevin had thought those guys had been doing in Andrew’s room. Study, probably.

“Fascinating.” Kevin pointed at himself. “Are you attracted to me?”

“I was,” Andrew admitted. “Before you opened your mouth for the first time.”

Kevin nodded because that made a lot of sense and went back to his reading.

“Did you take notes, at least?” Aaron didn’t know when to give up.

“Do I look like I took notes?” Andrew asked, remembering how Josten hadn’t bothered to either. “Does Josten take notes?” he asked over Aaron’s groan. If he usually didn’t, he was either some freak math genius or didn’t care. If he usually did, however, that’d mean he had been too distracted by whatever he thought was wrong with Aaron (Andrew) today. Which was interesting in its own way.

“How would I know? And why would I care?” Aaron snapped.

“He might be onto us.”

Aaron stared at him. “No he’s not.”

“Might be. I’ll figure it out.”

Aaron’s expression got complicated. “That’s not good.”

Andrew shrugged. “Not like he could prove anything.”

Aaron combed his hands through his hair, looking stressed now. “Should I, like, talk to him?”

“Absolutely not,” Andrew interjected. He put the fingers of both his hands together to form a tent. If Josten had really clocked Andrew as distinct from Aaron today, without even interacting with them…

He was more than interesting. Not just because of his pretty eyes and pretty face and pretty mouth, although those didn’t hurt.

Andrew wanted to see what he’d do next.

Andrew had realized a few weeks into their first semester that he’d agreed to live with two drama queens for the foreseeable future. Aaron was understandable. Aaron had been mostly raised by Nicky and taught to feel his feelings and all that shit, so his over-the-top reactions made sense.

Kevin, less so.

Kevin was surprisingly loud about his emotions for someone who’d been raised by a cult and then later David Wymack, who was loving but not what anyone would call emotionally expressive. Yet still, Kevin had somehow managed to turn into someone who came home, threw himself on the couch and screamed into their ugly throw pillows for five whole minutes before acknowledging the two other people in the room.

“What’s his problem?”

“Problem?” Andrew followed his brother’s stare. “I think he’s happy.”

“He’s not kicking his legs,” Aaron pointed out.

“Fair. Bet the library didn’t have the book he wanted.”

Aaron tilted his head to take in the exact cadence of Kevin’s shrieks. “I’d say he ate something and then found out it had processed sugar in it.”

“I saw him again,” Kevin moaned, finally lifting his face from the pillow. And that already explained everything, sadly (Andrew hated how involved he was in those two idiot’s lives).

“Your runner?”

“Yes!” Kevin flopped around like a fish. “He’s so faaast. Why does he keep running away from me? He needs me!”

“Behold,” Andrew muttered. “The white man. No experience, no practical knowledge, and still thinks he can do better than someone who’s already doing it.”

Kevin’s head shot up so he could glare at him. “He needs a coach,” he snapped. “That guy easily runs a sub-four-minuted mile! He could be at the next Olympics if he just talked to me!”

Personally, Andrew thought that if he ran a sub-four-minute mile, he’d also use it to run away from Kevin. The guy clearly knew what was good for him.

“I think you might be going about the thing the wrong way,” Aaron said, going his own wrong way by trying to be helpful.

Kevin looked skeptical. “How so?”

“Here’s what I imagine happens every time you two meet.” Aaron held his hands in the air as if framing an image. “You spot him. You either try to stop him physically or you start shouting at him. He runs away.” He dropped his arms. “Do you see the problem?”

Kevin looked like he very much did not see the problem.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Okay. Try to see it from his perspective.”

“Don’t try to be insightful,” Andrew told his brother. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Aaron ignored him. “Imagine there’s this random guy who shows up during your runs. Different runs, at different times and places. But this guy still finds you. And runs after you. And yells at you.” Aaron raised his eyebrows at Kevin. “Would that not make you maybe slightly uncomfortable?”

Kevin, who’d had his own problems with stalking because of the aforementioned cult, refused to learn from other people’s guilty verdicts. He scowled. “I’m not a stalker. I just want what’s best for him. And that’s me, as his coach.”

“Try telling him that,” Andrew suggested, because apparently they were all trying to be helpful and he didn’t want to be left out. “In fact, shout it at him. The next time you see him, yell I’m not a stalker before you chase after him.”

Kevin looked considerate. Aaron threw Andrew a look. Andrew shrugged.

Kevin snapped his fingers. “Or…” he pointed his cursed fingers at the two of them, “you two help me catch him.”

Aaron looked disappointed, for some reason. As if he’d seriously expected Kevin to learn and become a better and socially settled person. Katelyn was such a bad influence. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m not opposed,” Andrew said, mostly to spite his brother but also because he wanted to watch Kevin get arrested. “What’s in it for me?”

Kevin lit up. “The satisfaction of knowing you helped another person find the right path in life and realize their potential?”

Andrew stared at him.

Kevin slumped. “Why does everything have to be a deal with you?” he groaned. “Fine. He has very nice legs. And wears very short shorts.”

Andrew was very much listening. Still, for pretense, he narrowed his eyes at him.

“You’re gay,” Kevin said, defensively. “You can stare at his legs while I tell him about his workout plan and diet.”

Aaron looked between the two of them, incredulous. Andrew narrowed his eyes a bit further, already fully on board but pretending not to be in case he could haggle for some ice cream on top (although extorting ice cream from Kevin was like shooting yourself in the head, Kevin always bought the zero sugar zero fat extra protein extra fiber zero taste stuff that was basically frozen hummus). “How nice are were talking?”

“Very nice,” Kevin repeated with emphasis.

“You’re not seriously considering this,” Aaron demanded.

“Of course I am. I need to check out those very nice legs.” He wondered, for a fraction of a second, what Josten’s legs looked like under those crimes of jeans. Maybe he’d find out. Soon. In one of the math department's broom closets.

No reason not to check out Kevin’s runner too, though.

“You are joining us, obviously,” he told Aaron.

Aaron crossed his arms in a sulk. “I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m telling Nicky.”

“Nicky would tell you to widen your horizon and check out the guy’s legs.”

Aaron gave up because he knew Andrew was right. “Fine. But just because you two need supervision.” He pointed a very vindictive finger in Andrew’s face. “And I want to watch you make a fool of yourself when you start drooling over that guy’s very nice legs.”

The cursed math class happened twice a week because subjecting people to it only once every seven days wasn’t bad enough (Andrew could appreciate the deviousness, if nothing else). Mondays and Wednesdays. Aaron attended the Monday class himself, seeing as it wasn’t double-booked.

And Andrew was cool with that. He was so cool with that.

Entirely cool, one could say.

Andrew | 07:51

Are you there yet?

Aaron | 07:51

No

Andrew | 07:51

Now?

Aaron | 07:51

No

Andrew | 07:52

Now?

Aaron

Aaron

Aaron

Are you there?

Aaron | 07:53

Leave me alone

Yes

Andrew | 07:53

Is he there?

Aaron | 07:54

Who’s he?

Andrew | 07:54

Josten

Obviously

Are you stupid?

Aaron | 07:55

Obviously

This is pathetic

Andrew | 07:55

Stfu

I didn’t call you pathetic when you cried because the cheerleader asked you out

Aaron | 07:56

Yes you did

Andrew | 07:56

Well

It was pretty pathetic

So is he there?

Aaron | 07:57

Strong hate

Yes

…

?

What, nothing to say?

That’s it?

Wait

Are you freaking out rn?

Andrew | 07:59

I’m being entirely normal about this

What does he smell like?

Aaron | 07:59

I hope you die

I’m turning my phone off

Andrew | 08:00

No fuck wait

Is he looking at you?

Tell me

Aaron | 08:01

He looked once

Not since then

Andrew | 08:01

Interesting

Aaron | 08:01

I’m not gonna ask why that’s interesting

Andrew | 08:02

Give me details

Aaron | 08:02

??

Andrew | 08:02

What did he look like?

When he looked at you 

Angry? Confused?

Aaron | 08:04

Why would he be?

Andrew | 08:04

Horny?

Aaron | 08:04

Ew

Don’t text me anymore

I’m blocking you

Andrew | 08:05

Don’t do this to me

Aaron

C’mon

Not now

Any other time

And I mean ANY other time, really

But not right now

Aaron

Be for real

You didn’t block me

Are you dead?

I’m telling Nicky you’re ignoring me

Stop fucking ignoring me

Tell me what he looked like

In fact, send a pic

What’s he doing right now?

C’mon it’s been five days since I saw him

I’m deprived

I didn’t actually tell Nicky

I told Kevin

He didn’t care

Send a picture now or I won’t shut up

Aaron | 09:05

Wtf is wrong with you

I had class, idiot

Andrew | 09:05

You’re alive

The world rejoiced

Now send a picture

Aaron | 09:06

That’s illegal

Andrew | 09:06

I couldn’t give less fucks

Aaron | 09:07

He’s long gone

Andrew | 09:09

You’re a failure

That being said, Monday did provide some interesting insights, if not the gratification or stalker pics Andrew had hoped for. Josten had ignored Aaron completely. As he’d done every class until last Wednesday, when Andrew had taken his place.

Coincidence? Andrew thought the fuck not.

This was… a thing. A big thing. An interesting thing, most importantly

Andrew felt like it was a thing that called for a stalker board, but he had nothing to put on his stalker board because his brother was a weak link and scared of the law. So. No stalker board for Josten.

It had been a while since Andrew had been as excited for anything as he was for that Wednesday. And it fucking paid off.

He was there early, this time. And it was just as horrible as the week before, but he wanted (needed) to watch Josten walk in. Move around. Exist. Interact with people, maybe.

The last one had been a long shot, he realized when Josten finally arrived two minutes before the class was supposed to start. Because what he noticed in the ten seconds before the rabbit noticed him in return was that interactions were limited to glaring and or growling at people and those people jumping out of his way as if he’d bite them if they didn't move fast enough. Which, to be fair, looked like something Josten had done before and was willing to do again.

But then. But then! He raised his head and his eyes caught on Andrew and his eyes widened and he froze in place. And stared. One second. Three. Five. Elvis’ Can’t Help Falling in Love started playing in Andrew’s head. He’d just gotten to Would it be a sin? when Josten’s pretty pretty eyes narrowed and his entire expression… thing sharpened somehow, took on an edge.

And then he stalked over looking like a panther or leopard or some other big and fast and dangerous cat thing, all feline grace and psychotic eye contact, and Andrew was kind of in love and very turned on.

“What,” Josten demanded once more, continuing exactly where they’d left off last week. He’d stopped just out of reach again, the distance too exact to be anything but carefully calculated. “Why are you different?”

Was it too early to ask the rabbit to make out?

Internally freaking out (in a horny way, not a scared one, obviously; Andrew didn’t panic when beautiful interesting people talked to him, he wasn’t a fucking loser) he raised one eyebrow in a move that he knew made him look like an asshole (first step towards romancing the rabbit: antagonize him). “Am I?” he asked, and his voice came out just right, deep and a bit raspy from smoking and entirely unfazed.

He patted himself on the back for a job well done. This had to at least partially make up for his loser frat bro What's up moment last week.

“Yes,” Josten stressed, looking only slightly psychotic. “Who are you? What’s your name?!”

Andrew crossed his arms on the desk and leaned forward (shoulders: check, biceps: check), and Josten narrowed his eyes and took an answering step back.

“Minyard,” he said, because he had a cover to uphold but if this beautiful nutcase called him Aaron, people would die.

Josten’s lips twitched into an unimpressed snarl. His fingers clenched as if he considered putting his fist though Andrew’s teeth. This was going great.

“Why…” Josten moved all of a sudden, put his hands on the desk and leaned forward until he crossed the invisible line he'd drawn between them and then farther, until their faces were maybe six inches apart, which was close enough to feel Josten’s breath and see flecks of all the shades of blue in his eyes and holy mother of Jesus fucking Christ were they about to kiss?? “What are you doing here?”

Andrew swallowed around a very dry throat. Should he purse his lips? Should he wet them? He'd kissed a lot of people, how had he suddenly forgotten everything he knew about kissing???

“You.” Josten’s eyes were very bright as they looked him over. Then he frowned and retreated an inch. “What…”

Andrew snapped himself out of it (It being the mental image of wrapping his hand around the back of Josten’s neck and pulling him closer and over the desk separating them or maybe down onto the desk separating them and pushing his shirts up and wrapping his hands around that waist and kissing all that fury and indignation away and seeing what it would take to get the nervous energy to bleed out of him). Yes. Present. He was present.

He was so present.

“Maths,” he said with a wave to the front of the classroom, where Professor Bouncy was setting up for her lecture. He cleared his throat. “Obviously.”

Josten’s eyes were still narrowed, and flickered between Andrew's. “I don’t believe you,” he finally declared.

I don’t care, Andrew didn’t say, because it would’ve been a lie; he was secretly delighted.

“Something’s different,” Josten continued, pointing at him. “I’m going to figure out what.” He said it like a threat. Which was funny. Because it sounded like a promise.

Andrew… well. Andrew did a thing. He was big on personal space, obviously, but something about Josten fried his circuits.

He could be fast when he wanted to. Before Josten had time to retreat, Andrew pushed himself up and leaned into his space, mirroring what the rabbit had done just moments ago. There were not six inches of space between them this time. More like two. Close enough to feel Josten’s sharp intake of breath, to watch exactly as the furrow between his brows smoothed out, as his eyes widened and became a bit helpless and confused and fuck shit fuck-

“Do your worst,” Andrew breathed into the scant space between them, followed by a smirk when Josten’s cheeks turned red while his confusion grew and grew and grew.

Andrew watched his retreat, smirk firmly in place every time Josten sent a suspicious glance back over his shoulder. Smirk growing when Josten was too busy looking back to watch where he was going and ran into a desk.

He’d definitely won this round.

They set out on their inane hunt Friday evening, after some intense preparations on Andrew’s side. Those consisted of him watching every single Wile E. Coyote episode in existence while resolutely not thinking about Josten’s blue eyes and angry mouth, which amounted to around six hours of Wile E. Coyote in total.

He realized only after leaving the dorm building that evening that it might have been too much Wile E. Coyote, seeing as meep-meeps echoed in his head and he expected to get run over by unhinged birds at any time.

Being too lazy to lug around a comically oversized hammer and having been unable to require a rocket launcher, Andrew was carrying a lasso. Aaron was armed with a bug net they’d had lying around for no particular reason, because he’d joined Andrew for the last few dozen episodes and now knew how to unsuccessfully capture fast, elusive creatures, and Kevin had borrowed a taser from the cheerleaders down the hall.

Andrew really hoped Kevin would catch the guy. He couldn’t wait to see his face when the police explained to him that tasing someone because he wanted what was best for him was still a crime.

The guy had been dubbed Road Runner, of course (Andrew would be very extremely disappointed if he didn’t talk in meep-meeps).

They went to the park where Kevin usually spotted the Road Runner Friday evenings. Andrew graciously decided to not question what Kevin was doing in that park every Friday if not stalk the guy, and also decided to not bring up the fact that Road Runner had not changed his running route or time despite the fact that Kevin showed up to harass him every week. People who ran when not in life-threatening situations were insane anyways.

They spread out. Kevin declared he’d lay some traps, and while Andrew was very curious about what those would look like, he wanted to practice his lasso-throwing. Neither Aaron nor Kevin were worthy targets, so he distanced himself and meandered into the shadows between trees, far enough that he no longer had to listen to Aaron’s constructive criticism on this entire endeavor.

He found a nice tree on a nice path a nice distance away from everyone else who lurked around this park at well past six in the afternoon (a decent percentage of drug dealers, he’d bet). He threw his lasso. Managed to wrap it around his own neck on the first try. Got out a cigarette and lighter and his phone and pulled up a ten minute lasso-throwing technique video on YouTube. Watched the video. Put the phone away again and finished smoking his cigarette. Readied himself for a second try with the lasso.

“What are you doing here?” a voice asked from right behind him, close enough to make him not flinch but also not not flinch. Andrew whirled around, belatedly realizing that the voice was a familiar one.

And there he was. Josten. With his blue eyes that Andrew had failed to not think about for the last two (nine) days and his red curls and his pretty face and his distrustful mouth and his scarred skin, flushed from exercising.

Andrew used the few seconds it took to gather his bearings (read: check Josten out) to calm his racing heartbeat and come to terms with the fact that Josten was here, right in front of him, not separated by a desk and wearing decidedly less layers than usual.

And would you look at that. All of Kevin’s promises of hot runners with short shorts and long legs had come true. Because Josten wasn’t the Road Runner, but he was also hot and also wearing short shorts and had unbelievably long legs for someone not especially tall and was interesting on top.

Andrew’s priorities for the evening shifted.

“Hunting for runners in shorts,” he finally said, long after the appropriate time to answer Josten’s question had passed. And then, in a move that might have been charming and might have marked him as a loser for the rest of his sorry life, he lifted his stupid lasso and looped the thing around Josten’s neck and tugged at it, once. “Looks like I caught one.”

Josten, to his credit, did not looked alarmed. He even looked less furious than on Wednesdays (maybe the math class and general nerd surroundings had been the problem all along?). Josten, pliable as anything, followed Andrew’s tug and took a step closer, which was enough to give Andrew an excellent view of the drops of sweat making their way down the side of his neck.

He wanted to lick there.

And the fucker even smelled nice. Who the fuck smelled nice after exercising?

“Is this a split personality thing,” Josten asked, the nervous vibrating under his skin also less than in class but still very much there.

Andrew wondered again, for a second. What it would take to feel all that energy bleed out of him. If he grabbed that waist, for example, or those wrists, and pressed Josten against a hard surface. Walked him back until he was pressed up against one of those trees.

He was very sure he could get the guy to still. He was extremely motivated to try.

“Question for a question,” Andrew suggested, unwilling to divulge information without getting anything in return.

Josten’s expression immediately turned suspicious (but he did not duck out of Andrew’s lasso). “You have questions?”

“Some.” Andrew stared very intensely at Josten’s face. Because if he looked down at his neck one more time, he’d lean forward and bite him. He knew just where. The exact spot. Could basically feel what Josten’s skin would taste like under his-

Focus. Also, calm down.

His staring was taken the wrong way. The rabbit rolled his eyes. “Torture.”

Andrew paused. “What?”

“You want to know what happened to my face. Everyone wants to know. The answer’s torture.”

Andrew had suspected as much. Nobody fell into the same burning thing some ten to twenty times and then rolled over and fell into a bunch of knives. It was interesting, sure. But way more interesting was the flat, detached tone Josten delivered the words in. As if torture was simply something that happened to people. To him. No big deal.

As if he’d experienced worse.

“Good to know,” he gave back. “But not my question.”

Josten’s face went through a lot of expressions in a very short time, as if he couldn’t decide which way to go. Surprise and confusion and suspicion and then more suspicion and then less and then back to surprise. “No?”

“No.”

An increase of suspicion, again. “Are you lying?”

“I don’t lie,” Andrew said, and Josten looked deep into his eyes for a moment and then nodded as if he believed him.

“Okay. Ask, then.”

A deal. They had a deal.

Andrew patted himself on the back for immaculate romancing.

“What’s different?”

“What’s different?” Josten parroted.

“Yes. Between Wednesday and Monday. Between Monday and now.”

Josten immediately went back to suspicion. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“I do know.”

“So it is a split personality thing?”

“No. Answer the question.”

Josten looked like he wasn’t ready to give up his split personality theory yet, but he shrugged and did something with his mouth that from any other person Andrew would’ve called a pout. On Josten, it somehow looked mean. He turned his head to intently stare at the scrub next to them. “You were nothing,” he finally said. “Invisible. I didn’t notice you, before last Wednesday. And then suddenly…” He grimaced. “You were something. Tangible. You carry weight. A threat.” He turned his head back to Andrew. “Even now.”

Andrew was, admittedly, no longer breathing.

Josten continued as if Andrew’s imminent demise was no big deal. “It’s in the way you move. You’re not a sheep. They’re all sheep, all those-” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. The shine in his eyes was almost too intense, too honest. “They don’t understand. You do.”

That... Okay. That…

Okay.

What the hell. Wow, also. But mostly what the hell.

So. To sum up. Josten’s brain was wired in a way that recognized threats and nothing else. Which made Aaron fly under the radar, made him invisible. And Andrew… not.

Was that still paranoia? Was it paranoia if they were really out to get you, Andrew wondered with a glance at the violent marks on the rabbit’s face.

Probably not.

“What are your thoughts on therapy?” Andrew asked (because if he hadn’t asked that he would’ve asked to blow the rabbit, right here and now).

Josten tilted his head. “Isn’t it my turn?”

Andrew huffed out a breath and motioned his go-ahead.

“If it’s not a split personality…” Josten started slowly. “What then?”

“A brother.”

Josten looked momentarily bewildered. And then he went back to scowling. And then something seemed to hit him, an he looked impressed (hell yeah). “You switch places?”

“Mhm.”

“And nobody notices?”

“Never.”

The rabbit sounded puzzled. “They’re all so stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“How are they still alive?” He scoffed. “I wouldn’t be.”

“Luck, probably.” Andrew shifted his grip on the lasso. “Are they dead?”

“Who?”

Andrew motioned at his face. “The people who did this to you.”

A grin flashed across Josten’s face then, the first thing resembling a smile Andrew had seen from him. Except it wasn’t a smile. It was something sharper, something dangerous. Something bloodthirsty. “Every last one,” Josten grinned, lingering on every syllable in a way that told Andrew most of them had died by his hand.

A stab of jealousy flashed through him, quick enough that he almost didn’t notice himself.

Josten, though. Josten caught it, somehow. That flash. And honed in on it. “Are yours?” he asked into the few inches of space between them, and all of a sudden, that was too close. Too crowded. He felt exposed, under Josten’s bright eyes; as if under a spotlight that highlighted all the worst parts of him, all the weak bits he’d tried to bury under apathy and violence for years. It was too much. It was-

Josten stepped back. Out of Andrew’s space, just as smoothly as he’d let himself be pulled into it.

Andrew hadn’t said a word. His breathing hadn’t changed. His expression had stayed the same. He knew that. He knew all that.

But still. Josten had noticed. And stepped away.

“They tell you not to dwell on the past.” Josten’s voice wasn’t soft, or pitying, or anything. He just stated facts. “That revenge is useless. And yeah, sure, it doesn’t make up for what people did to you. It doesn’t make the world a better place. But trust me.” Here, a flash of his previous smile returned, that angry and twisted thing that Andrew latched onto with all his might. “Nothing feels better than ripping their throats out with your own hands. Seeing them desperate. And afraid. And watching them die.” Josten’s stare was intense enough to burn a hole through Andrew. Right to his middle. “You should try it, if you ever get the chance.”

And with that, his intensity dissipated into the evening air. He turned, waved over his shoulder. Said “See you, Minyard,” and disappeared between the trees.

And left Andrew standing there, heart racing and staring after him or after nothing, and with the stupid fucking lasso still hanging from his arm.

Things went on like this for two more weeks. Mondays, Josten ignored Aaron entirely during class while Andrew texted his brother in a way that sounded casual in his own head and probably came across as completely deranged, demanding a play-by-play of said ignoring. Wednesdays, Josten spent the math class staring at Andrew in a way that was either suspicious or thoughtful or both.

Fridays, Andrew continued to go out hunting with Kevin, who’d started waving around his favorite brand of protein brick while skulking around the park at night, as if the neon packaging might attract the Road Runner (who, to Andrew’s knowledge, hadn’t shown up once since Kevin’s obsession with him had taken it’s final form; and by God did Andrew hope this was the final form).

He told himself and Aaron and Kevin that he went along because it amused him to see Kevin alternate between crashing out and making pspsps sounds at bushes, as if the Road Runner was hiding just out of sight (as if the Road Runner, who, to Andrew’s knowledge, was a grown man, could be baited with pspsps sounds or disgusting protein bars). The truth was, however, that he stayed just long enough to get his Kevin-is-a-moron kicks for the day before he wandered off to do his own hunting. Kevin’s Road Runner stayed elusive, but Andrew’s rabbit showed up every week.

And every week, Andrew did not hear nor see him coming. He was just suddenly there. Like an apparition.

(Andrew was very glad he was no longer on those horrible drugs from a few years back, because the rabbit’s technicolor appearance would’ve been a mind fuck beyond compare.)

He learned a lot of things, on those Friday nights.

He learned that the rabbit’s name was Neil, and that he’d had this name for only a few short months and twenty-two others before. He was a freshman. He was in that horrible no-good math class because it had sounded fun. He didn’t trust cops, FBI agents even less. He’d burned his mother on some beach in California. He liked the smell of cigarettes. He was a distrustful little shit, because it kept him alive.

He disliked ice cream. Liked running. Slept with his shoes on, more often than not.

Andrew had thought he’d get bored, originally. He did not. Every little thing Josten handed him only made him want more.

And wasn’t that fascinating.

He gave the rabbit answers in return, of course. That was the deal.

He gave Josten ice cream and driving and cigarettes and Bee and the new meds and the old ones and being left behind in foster care while his mother came back for his brother and juvie and being found by Nicky and meeting Aaron.

And Josten took it. Without flinching. Without pity. Without buckling. Whatever weight Andrew pushed on him, Josten never pulled away, never gave the impression he could not handle it.

He just stood there, in the dark next to Andrew, breathing in his second-hand smoke while Kevin screeched at something far away (never screeches of success).

“Want to make out?” Andrew asked on the third of those Fridays, after almost four weeks of exclusively thinking about Neil Josten and his pretty mouth and his pretty anger, which was almost four weeks longer than he’d ever been invested in a potential hook-up before.

The rabbit’s response was to pause, look to his right, then his left, then turn a circle around himself, then look back at Andrew to follow his stare and finally point at his own nose. “Me?”

“Yeah, genius.”

Josten pointed at Andrew. “With you?”

He exhaled a puff of smoke. Entirely casual (his hands were not shaking). “Obviously.”

Josten considered that as if the idea had never occurred to him, which was a great start. “What would that entail?” he finally asked, thoughtful.

Andrew stared at him and couldn’t quite believe he was attracted to this man and still wanted to kiss him very much. Maybe he did have bad taste? “My tongue,” he finally said, “down your throat.” He paused. Considered his options. Went for broke. “And my hands on your ass, if you’re so inclined.”

Josten looked at him. Like, looked. He didn’t check him out, didn’t do literally anything else people did before kissing. He just stared straight into Andrew’s eyes (and not in a we’re-about-to-kiss way either). And then he shrugged. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and pushed his hands into his pockets. “I’m inclined.”

Andrew dropped his cigarette and ground it into the earth. “You’re a strange one.”

Josten shrugged, unbothered by this very obvious observation. “You still want to kiss me.”

“There must be something seriously wrong with me,” Andrew agreed, stepping closer, putting one hand on the rabbit’s waist (Jesus Christ he nearly went to his knees right then and there) to walk him back against the tree he’d been eyeing for exactly this reason for the last half hour.

Josten didn’t jump when his back hit that tree, as if he’d always known it was there (as if he’d been eyeing it for the same reasons). He didn’t shake Andrew’s hand off. There was tight muscle under his palm, vibrating with barely contained energy.

There was a gleam in the rabbit’s eyes, a challenged in the tilt of his head. A smirk at the corner of his pretty, pretty mouth.

Andrew wanted to eat him whole.

“Yes or no?” he breathed against lips that were already open, soft for once, brushing the tip of his nose against Josten’s before using his free hand to grip the side of the rabbit’s face to angle his head sideways.

The rabbit followed the motion easily, pliable. Soft like his mouth. “Yes,” he gasped against Andrew’s lips, the word enough to brush skin against skin, and Andrew allowed gravity to do the rest and closed that last bit of space between them.

It was… everything. And more.

The rabbit was clumsy at the start, clearly unpracticed, which fired Andrew up in a way he hadn’t previously known was possible. He didn’t stay clumsy for long. He was a fast leaner, Neil Josten.

It made sense, though. Of course a mouth like his, always spitting and sneering and snapping and growling, was able to bend into much more interesting shapes.

Andrew kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, into his mouth, behind his teeth, down his throat, until both their lips were wet with spit and Josten’s were red and bitten and his chest was heaving against Andrew’s, who hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close.

Hadn’t realized, because there was not a single part of him that wanted to pull away.

He did though, because he wanted to see.

And what a sight it was.

The rabbit, eyes dark and half-lidded. Lips swollen from Andrew’s teeth, hair mused, his entire body molten into the tree behind him.

And still. Not unmoving, but still.

The muscles in Andrew’s hold were relaxed. No longer nervous. No longer vibrating. All that tension, all that energy… drained away like blood.

He’d known. He’d fucking known he could do this.

It felt better than he ever could’ve imagined.

He pulled Josten’s hands out of his pockets, put them on his own shoulders and into his hair, where they tangled in the strands. Not pulling. Just… desperate to hold onto something.

The rabbits fucked-out expression became more aware by a drop. “Good?” he rasped, tongue moving around that single syllable in a way that was somehow pure sex.

“Shut up,” Andrew said, crowding closer again.

He swallowed the rabbit’s answering laugh before it could make it’s way out of his throat, for nobody but Andrew to hear.

Kevin ruined it, of course. Kevin always ruined things.

Andrew heard him too late.

Too be fair, things had escalated quite a bit by that point. He’d made good on his promised hand placement, and had a very nice handful of very nice ass while a very shapely leg was wrapped almost entirely around his waist. They weren’t rutting against each other, not quite. But there was certainly… movement. Enough movement to drive Andrew insane.

Enough movement to nearly make the rabbit come in his very indecent shorts, if the breathy sounds he gasped directly into Andrew's mouth were any indication. He needed just a little bit more-

He didn’t get a little bit more. Something crashed through the bushes behind them and they broke apart, neither of them capable to ignore a potential threat coming their way and continue this very nice thing that they'd had going.

Andrew turned to fend off what, judging by sound, had to be an elephant or at least a very obese hippopotamus, knives out of their sheaths, to come face-to-face with-

“Kevin.”

Kevin, who seemed to have originally planned on ignoring him, paused. Turned towards him, eyebrows raised very high. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with me?” The knives disappeared back into his armbands. His heart was racing. Not from fright. He tried to breathe normally, and not as if he’d just run a marathon. Or gotten to what he could only describe as fifth base up against a tree. Josten was suspiciously quiet behind him.

“Did you get into a fight?” Kevin asked, zero situational or social awareness.

Yes, Kevin, he almost said. The most likely scenario when you find two people tangled up in the dark. A fight.

He didn’t, though. Because honestly, a fight usually was the more likely scenario.

Still. There was no way anyone could confused Josten’s fucked-out expression with anything that wasn’t the result of almost-sex.

Andrew turned his head to shoot the rabbit a glance over his shoulder. And ah. That explained it.

Josten was nowhere to be found.

“Did you see him?”

“Him,” Andrew repeated dumbly, wondering for one short moment if Josten had been a hallucination after all.

“Him.” Kevin was looking at him as if he’d lost his marbles when he turned back. “The runner. With the nice legs. The reason we’re here?”

“Oh.” Andrew’s mind went straight back to a different runner. Whose legs had been wrapped around his waist only moments ago. “No.”

Kevin threw his hands in the air, lost hold of his protein bar bait and fumbled to catch it before it hit the floor, cradling it against his chest as if it were the most precious thing. “You’re useless.”

Andrew pulled his cigarettes out of his back pocket, lit up. Mostly because he really needed a cigarette right now (his hands weren’t shaking) and a little bit because it’d annoy Kevin. “Are we done here?”

Kevin’s expression was nasty. He opened his mouth. Andrew raised an eyebrow in challenge. Kevin dropped it.

They went home, unsuccessful once again. Andrew didn’t connect the dots.

The dots connected themselves, in the end.

Andrew went hunting for real this time.

Saturday and Sunday were spent pacing around their dorm room until both Kevin and Aaron kicked him out. He continued his pacing on the roof and smoked a pack of cigarettes while he was at it.

He had nothing on Josten. No number, no major, no address.

Just math on Mondays and Wednesdays and the park every Friday evening.

The weekend was enough to hatch a plan.

Andrew spent his lunch break on Monday (kind of) (gently) threatening the entire university’s admin team per mail and in person until an especially weak-willed one finally handed over the schedule of one Neil A. Josten. He then spent twenty more minutes staring down at the paper and wondering what the A. stood for.

Another mystery waiting to be solved.

First, though, the important part: finishing what they’d started Friday night. So that maybe, maybe, Andrew could use his brain for things that weren’t thinking about the rabbit and his eyes and his voice and his mouth and his taste and his legs and his sounds (God, his sounds) again.

He was waiting in front of the cursed maths building when Josten’s last class of the day ended. Smoking, because it allowed him the delusion that he was chill about this entire thing. Not nervous. Not… excited.

Josten moved on the outskirts, of course. Far away from the nerds (Andrew refused to think of Josten himself as a nerd; his ego couldn’t take the attracted-to-a-math-person kind of hit). Andrew spotted him immediately.

Josten found him even faster.

The rabbit bounced over. Lots of energy, lots of curls. Expression… hm. Mischievous, maybe.

“You’re coming home with me.” Andrew pointed his cigarette at him. “We have unfinished business.”

Josten snatched the cigarette out of his hand before he could blink. Brought it to his own mouth, closed his lips around the filter. Took a deep drag, lashes fluttering. Breathed smoke into Andrew’s face (When had he gotten close enough to do that?), and Andrew got this weird feeling that he was being toyed with. Like a cat toyed with a mouse before eating it.

“Do we?” Josten grinned around another mouthful of smoke. “And what’s that? Your tongue down my throat? Your hands on my ass?”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re awfully smug today.”

“And why wouldn’t I be?” The rabbit handed the cigarette back to him. “You chased me down, didn’t you? You want this.” He motioned behind them, into the direction of Andrew's dorm, as if he already long knew where Andrew lived. “Lead the way.”

Andrew didn’t bother trying to defend himself. No lies had been spoken, after all. Also, every second he didn’t get Josten behind closed doors was a second wasted.

He lead the way.

Josten kept mostly silent on the way back to the dorms. Andrew didn’t mind. He liked silences. Liked Josten’s silences just as much as his words (what the hell was wrong with him, really?).

Andrew managed to get Josten to divulge where he lived, which was important for when he’d inevitably have to hunt him down again after today (because he already knew that whatever they were about to get up to would not satisfy his rabbit-cravings in the slightest). But that was about it. He was kind of in a hurry.

Josten was too, if the way he basically vibrated under where Andrew’s hand was pressed against the small of his back was any clue.

They made it without incidents (although Andrew did consider pushing Josten into the occasional alley or up against the occasional tree or wall or anything for some pre-gaming). He kept it together. Barely.

And then they were finally in front of their dorm room and Andrew realized there was a high chance one or both of the others was home but it didn’t matter because they’d just have to cross the living room and into the bedroom and then they’d have a door that locked and four walls and a bed and nothing else to do for around eighteen hours (he’d checked both their schedules, he’d know).

Andrew wouldn’t deal with Aaron or Kevin’s shit tonight. They could either stay and suffer, or they could leave.

He unlocked the door. Lead Josten inside and followed after him.

A series of things happened that Andrew had not so expected.

Kevin glanced up at them from his post on the couch, did a double take. Josten stiffened next to Andrew, and threw him a look that was pure betrayal. Andrew, already in motion, locked the door with a click that echoed finality through the room before chaos broke out.

“You!” Kevin shouted, jumped up, and made for Josten. Josten didn’t hesitate. The rabbit did parkour over the counter to avoid Kevin’s outstretched arms and landed in the kitchen, where he came face-to-face with Aaron.

The two stared at each other for one speechless moment, then Josten let out an ungodly shriek right in Aaron’s face, who scrambled away from him and crashed into one of their cupboards.

“I’m going to make you great!” Kevin shouted, still trying to catch Josten. Josten ducked under his arms, did some more parkour over the furniture in the living room while Kevin and Aaron fell over each other in the kitchen, and swung out the window.

They were on the forth floor, just for the record.

There was a beat of silence where they all stared at the space in front of the window where a person had just been. Then all three of them scrambled across the room to stick their heads out the window.

Josten was climbing down the outside of the building like something straight out of a horror movie, dangling off window sills and dropping a floor at a time and making the entire thing look easy (Andrew hated himself for finding that attractive, but with Josten, that ship had long since sailed).

Josten skipped the last floor and dropped a few too many feet to the ground, where he caught himself with a roll on the lawn and came back to his feet with two middle fingers raised in their direction.

“Stop following me,” he yelled up at Kevin.

“I just want to talk!” Kevin shrieked.

“Jesus fuck. Take a hint, man!” a female voice shouted, followed by agreement from quite a few people on all sides. When Andrew looked around, he realized that people from at least five other rooms had also stuck their heads out their windows to watch. Great.

“What the fuck?!” Andrew snapped at Kevin, then again, down at Josten: “What the fuck?!”

Josten had the gall to look betrayed. “Was this all a ploy?” he shouted up at them (sounding choked, Jesus fucking Christ). “To lure me back into his room?!” He pointed an accusing finger at Kevin.

There was a round of shocked and scandalized gasps from their audience. Andrew wanted to put is face in his hands. Or lock himself in the bathroom and not come out for a while.

A light went off inside his head. A light that felt a lot like a sigh. Runner. Nice legs. Very nice legs.

The rabbit was Kevin’s Road Runner, wasn’t he? The guy Kevin had been obsessively stalking for weeks.

“Obviously fucking not!” he shouted down as soon as he’d gotten over how funny the universe thought it was. “I didn’t know!”

“I thought we had a connection!” Josten accused, sounding as if he were about to start crying (which Andrew fucking knew was an act, the asshole was enjoying this). Someone above them cursed. Another someone to their left did start crying (Boyd, from the sound of it; Andrew had heard that man cry way too often to not recognize it). “I opened up to you!”

“Damn, Minyard. Playing with people’s feelings? That’s low, even for you.”

Andrew stuck his head out a bit farther, enough to see over to Renee’s room. “Shut the fuck up, Reynolds,” he snarled.

Josten, sadly, wasn’t done making fools of them yet. “And what’s with the clone? Why are there two of you?!”

“I told you I had a brother!”

Josten tilted his head. “You didn’t say he looked like you!”

“I thought that was obvious! You met him!”

Aaron tugged at his sleeve. “Maybe shut up about that,” he hissed. Andrew shoved his hand away and ignored him. He and Josten were clearly having a moment. He couldn't deal with Aaron's fear of getting expelled for tricking the system right now.

Josten looked very confused. “You don’t have a split personality?”

“I told you I don’t have a split personality!”

“I thought one of your personalities was a liar!” Josten shouted back. Which. Okay.

“Can you come back up?” Kevin suddenly decided to open his mouth and insert himself back into Andrew’s moment. “I just want to talk.” He stuck his hand out the window, waving one of his cursed fucking protein bars around. As if that would help.

God help Andrew, it did.

Josten paused. And squinted up at Kevin. At the protein bar. “That’s my favorite brand,” he said.

Kevin lit up like a child on Christmas. “Mine too!”

“Uh-oh,” Aaron muttered next to him. “Bromance incoming.”

“Kill me,” Andrew muttered back. “Kill me now.”

His brother laughed at him.

“Wait,” Reynold’s spoke up again when Kevin and Josten spent a few seconds too long staring deep into each other’s eyes. “What is this? I thought he was fucking Minyard? Is it actually him and Kevin?” She sounded as disgusted by this as Andrew felt.

A gasp came from their other side. “What if they’re all fucking?” Boyd whispered, not at all quietly.

“Ew.” Andrew stuck his head out further. Far enough to glare at Boyd and Wilds two rooms over and far enough that Aaron felt the need to grab the back of his shirt (which he was secretly grateful for, four floors were four floors too many). “Ew, Boyd. No. I have taste.”

“Do you though?” Aaron asked, still staring down at Josten.

“Shut up.” He waved his hand between Kevin and Josten to break up whatever was happening there. “Come back up,” he told the rabbit. “Kevin’s gonna leave you alone. He’s not stalking you.”

“I’m not gonna leave him alone,” Kevin protested. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”

“Kinda sounds like stalking,” Reynolds supplied helpfully.

“Why is Kevin stalking people?” Wilds asked from the other side.

“I’m not stalking you,” Kevin told Josten. “I just followed you around for a bit. I wanted to talk!”

Josten looked appropriately skeptical. “Why? I’m not gonna make out with you.” He pointed at Andrew. “I’m already making out with Minyard.” More gasps. Two of them from inside his own room. “The interesting one,” Josten added after a second, which had Aaron bristling at Andrew's side.

“I don’t want to make out with you!” Kevin yelled, sounding not a hundred percent sure about it. “I want to coach you!”

“Boring,” Reynolds commented. “Go back to where him and Minyard are making out.”

Andrew would also like to return to that.

Andrew had, however, lost all agency in this conversation. If one could still call it that.

He just wanted to make out with Josten. Why was that so goddamned hard?

“Why didn’t you say so?” Josten stared up at them beseechingly.

“I tried! You always ran away!”

The rabbit scoffed. “Usually when people come at me in the dark they’re trying to kill me.”

“Well I wasn’t! I want to get you to the next Olympics.”

“Why?”

Excellent question. Excellent fucking question. The problem was, Kevin had an answer.

Andrew shoved him away from the window before he could start his spiel. “You can talk about realization of potential literally any other time. He’s just annoying like that,” he told Josten. “Can you come back up now?”

The rabbit looked up at him. Bounced on his toes a bit. “To make out?”

“Yes,” Andrew nodded, past the point of caring about their audience. “And to stay.”

Josten bounced once more. And then stilled. And smiled up at him. Impish. “Okay.”

Someone cooed. Boyd. “Can we keep him?”

Josten looked around at all the other people hanging out of windows. “Who are you guys?”

“Andrew's friends,” Renee said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Josten’s eyebrows were raised when he looked back at Andrew. “You have friends?” He shook his head. “Crazy.”

And then he stepped back towards the building and climbed the four floors back up, instead of taking the stairs like a normal person.

The door to Andrew’s room stayed locked for a very long time.