((I don't even like Dave Matthews that much, but the title seemed to fit.))

Adrian was drunk. This was not unnatural. He had also abandoned the party at some hot chick's place because they were all college students and he felt distinctly out of place not bitching about classes. So he stumbled the five blocks to Gaven's apartment and collapsed against Gaven's neighbor's door, tap-tap-tapping on the wood.

It was one a.m.

"Gaaaaaven. Gaven, Gaaaaaven." He tried for sing-song, but Adrian's voice sucked. "Come on. Let me in. I'm looonely."

The door open, and a middle-aged, obese woman in a flower nightgown glowered down at him sleepily. She was taller than him. It could be because he was sliding slowly down the wall.

"Woah," said he. "Shit. Gaven's taste's gone to the pits."

"What?" the lady grumbled. Her voice sounded like someone raking their fingers through gravel. It might have been hot on a man. On her, it was like nails running down a chalkboard. He flinched.

"Nothing. Never mind. Don't mind me. Where's Gaven? Gaven? GAVEN."

Maybe the walls were thin. Adrian knocked on one to check.

"I'm coming, I'm on my way," a sleep-husky voice called from the other side of the wall. "Please don't kill him before I get there, Mary," it continued, and it sounded amused instead of alarmed. The door opened almost immediately afterward, and Gaven slowly lifted both eyebrows at Adrian, tipping his head slowly to the side and parting his lips in silent curiosity.

He was in a pair of flannel pajamas that were slung low on his hips, a white t-shirt over a black, long-sleeved shirt, and the blanket he had drawn about his shoulders trailed two or three feet behind him on the floor.

The young man looked apologetically at his neighbor, then down at his friend. He clicked his jaw shut thoughtfully.

"Wanna come in?"

Adrian blinked muzzily up at Gaven. "Oh, hi." He peered into the apartment behind him in confusion, a slight frown creasing his eyebrows. "What's this? I could have sworn this was your apartment. Did you move? Did you fucking move without telling me?" Adrian pulled himself up carefully and braced himself against the wall, not succeeding in a true glare but managing to pout a bit. Without invitation, he slung himself over Gaven's shoulder. He didn't even apologize to Mary.

"If you don't want to see me anymore, you could just say. You didn't have to fucking move." He smelled like cigarettes and perfume and pot and at least three different kinds of alcohol and himself, a distinctively masculine smell that was far from unpleasant, but barely noticeable masked under all the other scents. "Were you sleeping? It's only one. You shouldn't be asleep." Adrian was a talkative drunk. He also seemed to have used up all of his coordination in trying to get to Gaven's place, or perhaps now that Gaven was here he felt he didn't need to extend any more effort to hold himself up properly. That was what Gaven's shoulder was for, right?

Adrian was still wearing what he wore to the party - an outfit that just about screamed, "Oh hey, let's have sex." Low-slung dark cross-thatched pants and a long sleeved tight maroon shirt. He had a black and white striped scarf thrown around his neck, but it did little to hide the massive hickey under his right ear. It matched his shirt. That pleased him.

Gaven patiently outwaited Adrian's drunken ramblings, smiling sleepily as he looped his arm around his friend's waist and gripped his side in an attempt to keep him up and off the floor as he dragged him inside. "I didn't move, you're just drunk," he explained calmly. "And of course I don't want to get away from you. You know it's always a pleasure to have you over." He spoke as if he were entertaining a diplomat instead of pandering to a grade-school friend who had draped himself across his shoulder.

"I wasn't sleeping," he continued after a second of contemplation. "Reading. I have a test tomorrow afternoon." Adrian was gloriously warm against his side - he felt like he was always cold - and that kept him from minding the strong odor of drugs and bodies too terribly much. "On the War of 1812... generals and stuff like that. You wouldn't be interested." He was speaking mostly to himself, now, and he kicked the door shut behind them as he dragged Adrian over to his couch, sitting hard on it and dragging the other man with him.

He was ferociously attracted to Adrian, yeah, and didn't overlook his attire. However, he was ferociously attracted to just about anything with nice hips and had too much sense to ever act on it.

"Don't puke on my floor."

Adrian allowed himself to be dragged into the apartment and settled onto the couch. He made a conscious effort to sit up straight, but sort of slid towards the ground anyway. After a moment of pressing himself against the back of the couch, he gave up and sprawled across it, pillowing his head on Gaven's thigh and draping an arm across his eyes. He was a little too long for the couch, but didn't mind that his legs hung over the armrest. It was better than ending up under the coffee table again.

"Studying? Fuck. You should have went partying with me. Then it would have been fun. But no. You had to study." Adrian was whining. "About wars. God. Boring. Can I have a smoke?"

That was unfortunate. Adrian was ferociously anything with hips, also, and had absolutely no sense.

"Come on. Let's have fun." He realized he sounded absolutely unappealing, but it didn't matter since this was an old song and dance, anyway. "And I wouldn't. Puke on your floor, that is." He knew better.

Gaven gently dug his fingers into Adrian's scalp when the warm, heavy weight of his head hit the top of his thigh. He raked his fingers through his hair, absentmindedly rubbing the top of his head. "I study because I have to. And I'm no fun to party with. I don't like to drink, remember?"

He hummed softly in the back of his throat, slouching against the back of the couch, bending one knee a bit to get comfortable. "And I don't like to have fun. I'm boring. I go to school."

Gaven wasn't so sure he trusted Adrian's promise that he wouldn't ralph on the floor, but all he could do was take his word for it. "Looks like you had fun. Sure it wasn't a good party?"

Adrian closed his eyes and looked positively ecstatic at the feeling of fingers running through his hair. He hummed with pleasure and pushed his head against Gaven's hand, like a big cat. "Mmm." For a moment he couldn't respond to anything else Gaven was talking about, so pleased he was at being pet. "God, that feels amazing." It could also be because he popped a pill of E earlier, but who knew. "And you don't have to drink. You just have to be there."

Adrian was sort of dependent on Gaven. As in, completely. At least, whenever he was around his friend, he was. On his own, he was kind of at a loss. Adrian did not do very well at self-reliance.

He sighed dramatically and dropped his hand from his face, slinging it across the backs of Gaven's knees. "You'll succumb, one day." But even if he didn't, that was fine too.

"Positive. It sucked. God, college kids are boring." He thought about it for a moment, looking hazily up at Gaven. His blue eyes were bluer, brighter, shinier. There was something else in his system besides alcohol, of course. Multiple somethings. "Except you. Most of the time."

"Wouldn't be anything for me to drink if I went," Gaven murmured, lifting his other hand and meeting the resistance with pressure from his fingers. "Got better things to do than entertain you all night, you know." He fell silent and listened to his friend speak for a few seconds, smiling sedately and humming warmly in the back of his throat in response.

Gaven was so good at self-reliance that it was a relief to have someone like Adrian around. Yeah, his friend worried the holy shit out of him: there were only so many drugs a person could ingest before some sort of vital organ gave out, but he didn't want to drive Adrian away, so... c'est la vie.

He slid a pale, chilly hand down from the top of Adrian's head down to his forehead, down to his cheek, stroking the bridge of his nose and the crest of his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. "Yeah, someday," he murmured, touching the back of his knuckles to his friend's mouth. "You even remember what you took tonight, Addie?"

He wasn't one for nicknames, but there were some times when he couldn't resist.

It was all but a miracle that Adrian was still functional. He would probably drive himself into an early grave, but fuck. At least he would have fun doing it. Live fast, go out with a bang.

There was something completely erotic about Gaven's ministrations, which was completely unfair because Gaven was immune to Adrian's charm, but Adrian was at a loss with Gaven's. So Gaven could paralyze Adrian with arousal and respond Adrian's attempts with a drawling joke. Totally unfair.

It took him a moment for Adrian to comprehend Gaven's words. He frowned. "Don't know. People handed me stuff." And he took it. Probably shouldn't have, but he wasn't puking yet and he hadn't passed out and he hadn't died. The results were something akin to E, so he went with that assumption.

Adrian was a sort of miracle, perhaps. He wondered how much time he had left. He kissed the back of Gaven's knuckles gently. It wasn't necessarily a romantic gesture. Of course he loved and adored Gaven, but that was just natural.

"Yeah." Gaven smiled sleepily down at him, dragging his knuckles playfully down to Adrian's chin and tapping the underside of it lightly. His fingers dipped down to stroke his throat, tracing the outline of the severe hickey on the boy's skin, and the sleepy smile tightened a little almost sadly. "That's how it always happens, mm?"

He wanted to suggest that Adrian take a shower and crash out on the couch, but he wasn't sure he could trust him to keep from drowning himself in the shower. He would just have to live with the post-party funk. "No pain anywhere, is there?" Gaven's fingers dipped teasingly into the hollow of his throat, ran lightly along the line of his collarbone. He knew how easy it was to drive Adrian crazy when he was hopped up on something (which was, unfortunately, more often than not) and relished in the feeling. Hell, if he were interested at all in sex, he would have been peeling his friend's pants off at that very moment.

He let the other hand continue to work in Adrian's hair, the other still stroking the curve of his neck and shoulder. "You should get some sleep," he said tiredly. "Breakfast'll be in the microwave when you get up." He always left breakfast in the microwave.

"It's free," he mumbled, eyes drifting half-closed. He didn't exactly trust his body enough yet to pass out.

Gaven, however, was torturing him. He arched under those hands, itching to touch his friend back, but curling his fingers and holding himself back. Exquisite. His breathing was a little faster than normal. He tried not to strain. Tried to relax. He knew Gaven was just taking advantage of him. The carresses felt like silk to his oversensitized skin. He grit his teeth a bit; tried not to grind.

"No pain. You never answered me. Can I have a smoke?"

He reached his free hand down to lazily follow Gaven's fingers with his own. His own fingers were long and delicate, almost like a girl's. Except they were unnaturally calloused from years of hockey when he went to school. He slid a rough palm across the back of Gaven's hand.

"Sleep. Ha. Fuck you." He let his eyes close shut completely. "As if I could fall asleep now, you fuckhead. And you better not expect me to crash on your couch. I'm guest." Meaning he would steal Gaven's bed even if it meant sharing it.

"Yeah, you can have a smoke, if you have your own. And try not to blow it in my face." Gaven's own nails were short and rounded, clean and always immaculately cut. He had a thing about hygeine and terrified of dirty fingernails. The smile on his face curled a little when the palm of Adrian's hand glided over the back of his own. "You know how I feel about cigarettes."

That was as much as he ever reprimanded Adrian. 'You know how I feel about...' He figured that nagging anyone about anything - especially Adrian about drugs - would only drive him away. Gaven had decided a long time ago that it was Adrian's life to live anyway, not his own, and he had no room to try to make choices for him anymore. It wasn't like in grade school when he did his best to make sure that Adrian always turned in every piece of homework on time.

He lifted his hand and traced the outline of Adrian's closed eyes, as if mapping his face with his fingers. "Have to sleep eventually. I can't stay up all night."

Adrian fished a pack from his pocket. It was a cheap brand. He couldn't afford much better at the moment. Top on his list of priorities: get a fucking job. Journalism would be perfect. He had a funky dream he could survive like that guy from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, except with more hair.

He bumped a cigarette from its pack thoughtfully, not lighting it yet. He knew Gaven didn't like cigarettes. Hell, he knew Gaven didn't like most of his habits. He appreciated his friend's tact, but still felt slightly guilty nonetheless.

To stop, though.

To stop was unthinkable. Drugs had ceased to be a lifestyle and had quickly become his life. Existing without his poisons was unthinkable. He depended on them as much as he depended on Gaven. And Gaven did not ask Adrian to choose between the two of them, so he didn't.

So he lit his cigarette anyway because he knew Gaven wouldn't protest, and exhaled the smoke away from them both. He wondered muzzily if Gaven knew how much Adrian needed him. How hard he would fall if he didn't have him.

Probably not. It was better that way. Uncomplicated. He wasn't even sure how much he relied on Gaven.

He was coming down from his high and sobering up. It wasn't pleasant. When Gaven went to bed, he would have a smoke from the blunt in his back pocket. On the balcony, because he didn't think Gaven would appreciate his apartment smelling like pot.

"Mmm," he hummed and pushed himself up, only to yank Gaven down and sprawl on top of him, like a huge warm blanket. "Sleep here, then." He made sure to keep the cigarette to his side so to not get the smoke in his face.

Gaven knew that Adrian was addicted to drugs. It was the classic, tragic story: Adrian wasn't stupid. He had to know what it was doing to his system, and if he wasn't stopping... Gaven knew Adrian was addicted, but had no idea how badly. He had never gone through withdrawl, had never tried anything more severe than a bit of weed that had left him wheezing and teary-eyed. He exhaled softly, opening his eyes a bit more, realizing that he was about to doze off right then and there.

He worried about Adrian. A lot. Gaven didn't have any enemies, but it wasn't like he was drowning in friends, either, and it was comforting to have someone who knew him so thoroughly.

Gaven quirked a sleepy eyebrow when his friend sat up, preparing himself comment on Adrian's introspective look before he went down with an audible "oomph." His eyes fell shut in momentary bliss at the body heat and he gave an appreciative murmur. His gaze was notedly sleepier when he did finally open his eyes. "Need to finish reading," he said, though his face betrayed the fact that he didn't plan on doing it. "And I'm not sleeping with you." He arched himself up against Adrian, partly to tease, partly to seep a little more warmth from him.

Adrian groaned a bit when Gaven arched up against him, thoroughly teased, and pressed him a little further down on the couch to get him to stop squirming. Adrian had the advantage of being larger than Gaven. He deadweighted, because Gaven was his best friend and rough-housing was a sort of necessity, even though it was half-assed.

Adrian knew a lot of people. Gaven was the only person he considered a true friend. Gaven was probably the only person he could fully love, too. With everyone else, he was much too narcissistic. With them, he wanted physical gratification. With Gaven, it was different. And he didn't even understand how. He figured there was most likely a narcissistic element to their relationship too, but Adrian felt balanced with Gaven.

Shit. He really was coming down hard. Watch him retrospect all over the place.

"Fuck reading," Adrian grumbled. "You said it was in the afternoon, right? You can read tomorrow." He tangled his legs with Gaven's and licked his thumb, putting the cigarette out on it. This would probably still hurt like fuck if he was in his right mind, but now he just tossed it on the table and wrapped his arms around Gaven's lower back, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Gaven gave a soft, unconscious exhale when Adrian dropped back down on top of him. Just because he wasn't interested in sex didn't mean he wasn't completely immune to his best friend: he just thought sex was too messy, had too many strings attached to it. People risked too much for a couple of minutes of heat and toe-curling pleasure, and he had just decided that he wanted no part of it.

Besides, Adrian was the constant in his life. He knew he would always be stoned or shitfaced drunk or some wacky combination of the two, but he was still Adrian beneath the tripping shell, the same boy who had borrowed crayons from him in kindergarten.

He huffed a sigh, somewhat like a dog that had just found a comfortable spot on his pillow and thrown himself atop of it, stroking the back of Adrian's neck and resting his face against the side of his head. "You feel nice," he said through his hair, the firm press of his body more comfortable than arousing.

If they had a blanket, this would be perfect. Adrian made do by shifting up to press a goodnight kiss on Gaven's forehead. He had resigned himself long ago that he would probably never get in Gaven's pants, though he was determined to try, anyway. He once convinced himself it would be better that way, that sex would complicate things and that the best thing about his relationship with Gav was that it wasn't complicated. He was still half-convinced that there would be no one that could ever fully replace his friend, and that could just be because there was no one else that lent him crayons in kindergarten, which Adrian subsequently ate. Or at least, no one that stayed friends with him for that long (they usually abandoned him after he went after their magenta crayon).

"Of course I do," he rumbled. He wasn't sleepy, but he rest his head on Gaven's sharp shoulder, anyway. "I'm perfect." Then he cracked a grin because that was as far from true as possible, and pulled the back cushions from the couch up to pile on top of them for additional warmth. Gaven was always so fucking cold. Adrian tried to share as much heat as he could.

Gaven had never really contemplated the possibility of someone replacing Adrian. It wasn't a possibility. He knew he would probably die, as most people that severely addicted to drugs did, and had just assumed for a long time that he would just have to pick up and go on from that. Get his master's in education, get a job at some local junior high school, make friends and lose them. There weren't a lot of people in the would he would trust to lie on him while stoned, and even fewer whom he'd allow to kiss his forehead.

He closed his eyes, really struggling to stay awake now, incredibly soothed by Adrian's voice. Sometimes all someone needed was to know that he wasn't alone, and he smiled with a sort of leisurely air.

"Not quite perfect," he corrected, and his voice was dreamy, eyes closed as he hooked his fingers around the curve of Adrian's shoulderblade and lazily dragged them down the length of his spine. "Not even close." His hands stopped, curled at the small of his back. "See you in the morning. Afternoon." He let himself stop talking after that, his voice already quiet and dipped low.

Adrian waited until Gaven's breathing evened out completely, before slipping out of the other boy's arms. He looked down at him for a long moment, thoughtfully. Sometimes Gaven was heartbreaking. Adrian reached down to brush his fingers over Gaven's forehead gently, lovingly, before piling the cushions on top of his friend and escaping to the balcony.

He was shaking a bit. Colder than normal, because his system was trying to bounce back to normal but could only manage a sluggish crawl. The beginnings of a headache were pressing up against the back of his eyeballs, and his breath was coming out quick and panicked. He wasn't aroused anymore. In a moment, he would be in a full blown panic attack, screaming because he couldn't stop, crying because there was no other option, and shaking uncontrollably because his body needed to. With trembling hands he lit his blunt, inhaling, holding it in along with the desperation that clawed somewhere in his lungs.

The weed numbed him, calmed him down. He thought this was funny, since marijuana was supposed to make you paranoid. He carefully put out his blunt and slipped it back into his pocket, smoking a quick cigarette before going back in. The anxiety subsided and he crawled back on top of Gaven, burrowing under the cushions.

"You smell like pot," Gaven said thickly when Adrian nestled back in under the pillows. He welcomed the other boy with open arms, nestled sleepily against him, and slep like a rock for the rest of the night.



Gaven's back was killing him when he woke the next morning. So was his neck, and his left hip felt like it had popped out of joint, and his right arm was so far asleep that he smacked himself in the face with it before he decided that yes, he had really found it.

He glanced at Adrian's sleeping face and kissed the side of his mouth in a friendly, sleepy gesture and squirmed away from him and the pillows, pushing himself shakily to his feet and limping his way to the bathroom. He washed the lethargy and aches from his body with a too-hot shower, then bundled himself to go to the kitchen and start breakfast. It was only around nine-thirty when he got out of the shower and began scrambling the eggs.

Gaven glanced down and noted tiredly that his toe was poking out of the front of the worn Tweety Bird slippers his aunt had given him for Christmas four odd something years ago. He sighed.

It took Adrian a long moment to drag himself out of sleep, as usual. Lately his body was requiring more and more sleep. He figured it needed more time to recuperate. When he fully woke up it was to too bright lights and a headache to kill. He dragged himself off the couch, only too aware of the aches and pains associated with using a person as a mattress instead sleeping on a real bed. He could only imagine how Gaven felt.

Adrian popped a pill in his mouth. Half a Valium. Not too bad. He just needed to take the edge off things. He lit a cigarette and listened to Gaven in the shower with a sad, crooked little smile.

Then he stretched his arms way above his head and scrunched his nose. God. He smelled like shit.

"Hey," he called, when Gaven started on breakfast. "Do I have any extra clothing, here?" He should. Or at least, he hoped he did. It wasn't as if Gaven's apartment wasn't his second home, anyway. He pulled off his shirt and strolled into the kitchen to blow a sleepy, cigarette scented raspberry on Gaven's neck. "I'm stealing your shower. I fucking stink."

Gaven made a face as Adrian blew the raspberry on the back of his neck, lifting his hand to scrub at the area with his palm as if it tickled, which, well, it did. "Yeah," he answered and clumsily attempted to fold the egg he had frying in the pan into an omelette. "You've got a couple things here, mostly in my closet." He seemed to think about this for a second. "I'll lay them out for you. Just get in the shower. You stink."

He knew very well that Adrian stank. He had woken up smelling just like him.

"Do you want some aspirin or something?" He had figured - with good reason - that Adrian had already self-medicated. He just thought he'd be polite.

Gaven felt a lot better after the shower. His hip still hurt, and his ribs were a little sore, but it was probably the most soothing sleep he had had in a while, even if his drunk and stoned best friend had been passed out on top of him.


(Posted on a phone, sorry for clumsiness!)

He looked down at the egg curiously and wondered if he was hungry. "Thanks. That'd be great. Just don't lay me out a fucking eskimo jacket, or something." He was mellow. Not tired anymore (rarely tired), but overly relaxed from the Valium. He waved away the idea of Aspirin because a placebo would be more effective than that and sauntered into the bathroom to take a longer than necessary shower, wasting water and spiking up Gaven's water bill. It was nice, however, to wash away the remnants of the failed party and not smell like other people and toxins. The hot water felt nice, and he secretly enjoyed smelling like Gaven, though he wouldn't tell his friend that.

After his shower he stole Gaven's toothbrush and settled at the kitchen table in a towel, lazily scrubbing his teeth. He hated like feeling something had died in his mouth and was busy rotting away at his teeth.

"Time's your class?" he managed around a mouthful of foam and somehow didn't spray spit everywhere.

"I don't have to take the test until two," Gaven answered. He pulled a plate of cold, cheesy eggs and some dry toast out of the microwave and plunked it down in front of Adrian. "So I've got a little while. And my toothbrushes taste like crap after you use them," he said mildly. He really didn't mind at all, and probably wouldn't have said anything if he did. Toothbrushes were a ridiculous thing to get worked up over.

He lifted a shirt and a pair of jeans that were definitely Adrian's from the back of a chair, and a pair of boxers that he really couldn't determine the origin of anymore. When Adrian left clothes there, he just laundered them and put them away for situations like this: there was no telling when his friend would come crashing in, drunk and stoned off his ass, and clean clothes were good in situations like these.

Gaven sat heavily in his seat across the table from Adrian, history book already spread open in front of him. He'd been reading while he waited for him to finish in the shower. "What about you? Got any plans?" He had turned the thermostat down a little in the apartment to keep from burning Adrian out.

"Mmurghplf." He tried not to drool, failed, and hurried to the kitchen sink with a hand under his mouth as to not decorate the floor with fizzy toothpaste. He rinsed his mouth and wiped it with the back of his hand, leaving the toothbrush at the edge of the sink to let it dry. Running his tongue over his new, fresh teeth, he plunked back across from Gaven, hair plastered and starting to frizz a bit from the heat in the apartment.

"Nothing. Not yet. There's probably something." He rubbed an eye with his knuckle and yawned. He could always just go on a bender and walk around downtown.

"Marry me. Seriously. And make me breakfast every day and lay out my clothing." He pulled on the shirt and ruffled his hands through his hair in a half-assed attempt to dry it, before starting on the eggs.

"Sorry, Addie, just not ready to make that commitment yet," Gaven deadpanned and flipped a page, pulling off the cap of a blue highlighter with his teeth and marking at some terms that had already been highlighted twice already. "You know," he said after a moment, cutting his eyes up to Adrian, frowning softly, "you should get a job, or take some more classes, or something. Be good for you."

He stretched and arched his back, hearing his vertebrae pop and rolling his shoulders back.

"Besides," he added after another second of thought, "our kids would be ugly as sin. I can see a little boy with your bigass nose and my crooked teeth." There was nothing wrong with Adrian's nose, as far as he could tell, and he knew his teeth were fine. He was just trying to make conversation over the mental noise of his textbook.

Adrian somehow managed to find another highlighter lying around, and started decorating his arms even though he had just stepped from the shower. The doodles were ecclectic, filled with swirls and crazy, mind-bending designs. He liked how the color looked on his skin and reminded himself to drop acid later so that he could watch the designs come to life. He used his other hand to pick up the fork for the food to clean his plate, drawing on the inside of his forearm while eating. "I don't know," he said. "I dropped off my resume at the herald. Just waiting for a response, now." And getting a retail job just sounded like the pits, to him. He figured he could maybe find a smokeshop or a music store and not feel as if the walls were closing in on him.

"Please, my nose is the image of perfection. Your teeth, however." He grinned and drew a heart on the corner of Gaven's book.

Gaven looked blandly down at his book as Adrian doodled in the corner of it, then lifted his face to bare his teeth at him in a poor imiitation of a snarl. "My teeth are just fine." He ran the tip of his tongue along the top row, thoughtfully sucking on a canine. "Think you'll get hired?"

He pushed the chair back from the table and stood up when Adrian finished his food, stepping next to him to pick up the plate and sigh softly at the sight of the swirls and doodles on his arms. He lowered a cold hand to rub the yellow marks and shake his head.

"You could work at a tattoo parlor," he suggested and dropped the plate off in the sink, before turning and moving to sink in his chair again. Gaven exhaled deeply and deflated a little bit. "Damn, I'm tired. We're not sleeping on the couch again."

"I hope so," he replied honestly.

He grinned a bit. "Well, we could always transfer to the bed." There was a lewd hint to his smile. Okay, so, maybe this boy didn't know the meaning of 'giving up'. One had to admire his tenacity. Or think he was stupid. He stood up and stretched a bit and finished dressing under his towel. Right in the middle of the kitchen. He dressed while covering himself because it was polite, not because he had anything to hide or had even a shred of modesty. He just figured it would be rude to talk about sex and then drop his towel. Though Gaven would probably just blink.

"Hey, can I crash here for a bit? The roommate and I are on the outs."

This was a lie.

A really, really big lie.

He wasn't even sure why he was lying, or even imposing himself into Gaven's home. But his roommate was hardly there (physically or mentally), and he liked being around Gaven.

"Yeah, you know you can crash here, but if you're here for more than a month, I want some rent." And he was being serious. Gaven loved Adrian to death, but he wasn't going to let him live there for free.

It wasn't much of an apartment, anyway, but it worked for him: he had a small bathroom, one bedroom, and a kitchen that sort of melted into the living room. He had an odd, varied taste in decoration, too. A photocopy of the Magna Carta was hanging in a frame on the wall above his television.

He silently thanked Adrian for changing beneath the towel, and while he was changing, he looked at his watch and frowned softly.

".. Sorry, Adrian. I'm supposed to meet with someone and go over some notes before the test. I'll see you at home tonight?" He moved over to the counter and grabbed a comb that was lying next to the toaster, dragging it through his hair. "Don't stay out too late."

"How much do you pay for this place, anyway?" He slung the towel over his arm, intending to hang it back up after Gaven got back. In truth, he was a little jealous. Talk about abandonment issues. Left for a study partner. He didn't pout, but didn't look exactly happy either.

He waved a hand in dismissal. "I won't wake you up if I come back too late." He didn't include, 'or at all', but it was probably a given. "Good luck on your test, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I'll see you when you drag your sorry arse back around here. And not a lot. I get the place pretty cheap." Gaven dumped his books into a bag and slung the strap across his shoulder, stratening up and moving over to reach up and tousle Adrian's hair like he would a small child's. "Lock the door when you leave. Extra key's still under the doormat."

He stretched, then glanced at the door, giving one Adrian one last look before he wiggled his fingers in goodbye and disappeared.