A knock interrupted Ian in the middle of trying to figure out the molecular mass of carbolic acid. He glared at the page of scribbled-out equations before throwing down the pencil in disgust. "Come in."
David pushed the door open and stepped into the room hesitantly.
"Dave? What the hell, man. You never knock. What gives?" Stretching until his back popped, Ian let out a sigh. Stupid chemistry homework. He leaned over and opened the mini fridge conveniently placed next to his bed, grabbing a soda can. "Pepsi?"
Nodding absently, David caught the can tossed in his direction. He looked down at it, rolling the blue and red can between his hands. "I just wanted to, um. Are you busy?"
Ian rolled his eyes and ran a hand through messy blonde hair. "What kind of stupid question is that? It's the week before finals; of course I'm busy. I'm surprised you're not. What, you finally get sick of writing that paper for Cohen and decide to take a break like normal people?" Popping the can open, he took a large gulp of Pepsi.
"Jack kissed me."
Ian choked. He slapped a hand over his mouth, struggling to keep from spraying brown carbonated beverage all over his chem work. When he had swallowed and taken a few deep breaths, he gave a low whistle. "Jack? As in Jack Kelly?"
David nodded, eyes troubled.
"No shit, man." With a final sip of soda, Ian set the can down on the nearest available surface-- a stack of books on top of his fridge--and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He shoved aside the papers and text books lying on his bed. "Close the door and sit down."
"Well, if you're busy I don't want to--"
Waving a hand, Ian cut off his friend of several years. "Shuddup and sit down, Dave." He waited until David sat down heavily at the end of his bed before continuing. "I'm thinking of the right guy, aren't I? Jack, the guy you practically grew up with? The guy you were totally excited to find out was transferring here?"
"The one and only," David sighed.
"You never told me he swung that way."
"He doesn't!" The lost tone of his voice made Ian wince. He'd never heard David so out of sorts; it just wasn't natural. "I mean, he didn't. Or . . . I don't know." Looking desperate for something to distract himself with, David opened the forgotten can of Pepsi and took a hasty sip, blinking back tears from the sudden rush of bubbles.
Ian drew up his legs and wrapped thin arms around his knees, giving David time to compose himself. He didn't like to see guys all teary-eyed, not when it wasn't in awe over his devastating good looks, and especially not when it was a guy he'd always known to be levelheaded and way too fucking composed for his own good. So he waited the awkward moment out.
When David had cleared his throat, eyes flicking away to stare at his shoelaces, and was cautiously attempting another sip, Ian spoke up again.
"Why don't you tell me what happened, man, from the beginning."
David half-shrugged. "I went to help him unpack and set up his apartment. We were talking and stuff. I told him about that whole deal with Schlesinger and the term paper fiasco and he was telling me about the guys back home." Another slow half-shrug completed the other. Ian had to steal a peek at David's sneakers to make sure there wasn't something incredibly fascinating there he was missing. Finally he couldn't stand the silence any longer.
"Aaaand?" he said leadingly.
What he got in return was an ironic, knowing look and a sigh. Then, with a tangible effort, David seemed to gather his wandering thoughts.
"And," he said softly, "he kissed me. It was when we were finishing the last boxes and I was getting ready to go. I told him that I was really glad he decided to transfer here after all. When I said that, he gave me this look I couldn't decipher and got so quiet I thought I'd upset him somehow. But then he said 'I didn't want to be away from you any longer' and leaned over and just..." His hand clutched ineffectively for words before he clenched it in his lap.
Figuring it would be impolite to point out how sickeningly sweet the whole situation wasânot yet, at any rate-- Ian attempted to focus on the practical. "So what'd you do?"
At this, David flushed. "I walked out."
"You what?" Ian said incredulously, releasing his hold on his knees and sitting up so straight his back protested. "The guy you've been friends with for most of your life kisses you and all you do is walk out?"
David's eyes narrowed and he thrust his chin out angrily. "What was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know, Dave!" Ian's hands, active at the best of times, were taking on a life of their own in his frustration, fluttering restlessly. "Punch him. Fall into his arms and kiss him back! Hell, you've been mooning over the boy for as long as I've known you."
"Fall into his arms and..." Ian watched as the other shoe dropped and all color left his friend's face. "Mooning?" he asked weakly.
"Like a lovesick twelve-year-old girl with her first crush," Ian said ruthlessly, only softening when he saw how genuinely shocked David was. "Dave," he said a bit more gently, "the only reason I didn't hit on you when we first met was because I thought you were already taken."
This made David smile hesitantly. "But you did hit on me."
"Not really. Not like I usually do," Ian pointed out. "You lit up whenever you talked about him. What was I supposed to think?"
The smile faded. "I didn't..."
Ian raised an eyebrow encouragingly.
"I didn't know," David finished heavily. "God, how didn't I know?"
"So you admit it!" Ian crowed, more delighted than he thought was entirely healthy. He hadn't realized before how much of a Yenta-complex he had. "You like him. Like-like him."
"Now who's being a twelve-year-old?"
Ian bounced and waved one hand dismissively. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you have to do something. You can't just let him think you hate him."
David scrubbed his hands down his face. "What, though? What?"
"Man, just go talk to him! Right now," Ian exclaimed. "Geeze, you're what gives us guys the reputation for being clueless in relationships."
David looked obscurely hurt. "Sorry about that. Next time I have two shocking revelations in an hour, I'll make sure not to be stupid about it," he said crisply.
This stilled Ian in a way that confirmation of one of his closest friend's non-heterosexuality hadn't. He needed to remember that not everyone had such an easy time accepting their sexuality, and do what Eli kept telling him to; namely, to use his fucking brain before opening his mouth. His aesthetically pleasing and very kissable, but too big for his own good, mouth.
"Hey," he said soothingly. "I didn't mean it that way. I just know this Jack guy will be good for you. I've been around you enough to know that you feel something for him. And he obviously loves you, so go work it out with him. Talk."
"'Talk,' you say. Yeah, easier said than done." But David stood, face determined. A hopeful smile threatened to take control of his lips. "Fine then, Ian. I can take a hint when it's shoved at me enough times."
"Good luck, man. Don't come back until you've made up thoroughly and have lots of dirty details to share with me."
He didn't duck in time to miss the precisely aimed empty soda can chucked at his head. "Ow! 'Haven't played baseball in years,' my ass!" he complained.
"Goodbye, Ian," David said, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Ian grinned, basking in the glow of a match well made, until he remembered the chem homework he'd been working on. Love was in the air, but molecular mass waited for no manâor romance. He groaned, but bent back to his task, quietly wishing David the best of luck.
Don't recognize the POV character? Check out B's "How I Spent My Summer Vacation." He's the one tripping over everything.
And He Kissed Me by Shimmerwings