t was easier to wake up Saturday morning for his early shift than expected. In fact, he was on his feet after the first alarm on his phone. Lee rubbed the side of his bedhead with a yawn and, stretching his legs out in front of him, plopped his feet on the carpet in his dorm room.

One of the perks of having a ridiculous wealthy family intent on paying for his law school meant that Lee also had the luxury of a single room dorm. He knew he'd be sacrificing such benefits when he switched USFC colleges, but for now, he'd revel in the independence. With no one to bother him and no one to worry about but himself, Lee prepared for work.

He stood in front of the shared restroom mirror, brushing his teeth. The bathrooms were always silent on Saturday mornings. With everyone either hungover or trying desperately to sleep in before the dining room opened, Lee had the entire restroom to himself. He bent over the sink and spat out bubblegum flavored foam.

When he straightened up, he stared at himself in the mirror. He flattened his hand over his bedhead, where it was oh-so obvious in the trimmed hair on the sides of his head. When he pulled his hands off, those frosty strands stood up on end once again. He looked paler than usual under the restroom's fluorescent lights.

Do I really want to shower just to fix my bedhead? he wondered, tugging on the messy, crazy strands on the top of his head. He thought of Park, which immediately pissed him off. As if he'd shower for a guy. They were going to be working out, so showering how was just an extra step in his day.

It'd only take two minutes... he thought.

He took the shower and, less than an hour later, he was already grateful for it.

Lee opened that day which meant prepping the counter space, filling the coffee machine with fresh grounds, and brushing up the espresso machines. By the time all that was taken care of, his coworkers were in and he left to drag the locked gate away from the store entrance. He crossed the tiled flooring, turned the corner away from the back room door, and stopped at the sight of someone glaringly familiar standing outside of the gate, eyes on his phone, distracted.

Lee skidded to a stop a few paces away. He was used to customers waiting outside of the gate on weekdays, but Saturday?

"What're you doing here, Park?" Lee said, resuming his pace. Maybe if he acted normal, he'd be normal for once.

Milo looked up from his phone. The instant he locked eyes with Lee, he smiled. It didn't quite reach his eyes, though, which remained slack and tired. "I have a lot of homework to finish before the game. I didn't want to bother Rushi Roll so I figured I'd come here."

"Ah," Lee said, articulate as ever.

He went to the wall where the gate locked in. He stuck the key in and turned it, walking it around the arched café space where it looped out into the student common area. He passed Milo on his way. Milo was watching him, his bright eyes diluted with exhaustion. Lee came close to snapping his fingers at Milo and telling him to head back to his dorm to sleep for another hour because Christ, if Milo didn't look two seconds away from passing out or what.

It was the earliest Lee had seen Milo. Most days, Milo came in almost religiously around nine in the morning, never sooner, sometimes later. Lee always assumed that nine in the morning was Milo's first taste of caffeine, but he was starting to think that Milo stopped by Starbucks for an extra shot.

When Lee returned to the cash register, Milo seemed to be waiting for other waiting customers to filter past before Lee claimed the second register. Milo was the first in his line.

Milo took his wallet out and said, "Traditional espresso macchiato, please. For here."

Lee plucked a small ceramic cup up and said, "What happened to your triple shot latte?"

Milo tipped his head to the side with a sweet smile and said, "You remembered. I can't stand dairy this early in the morning."

"Ah, so an aficionado by morning, basic bitch just in time for brunch." Lee wanted to strangle himself for saying that out loud, but thankfully, Milo found it amusing.

Milo laughed and said, "Yeah, kind of. So hit me with it, what do I owe?"

Lee read the price out and took the cash from Milo's hand. He punched in the numbers, swapped the cash out, and handed Milo the change. Milo went to take a seat at the far end of the counter where a group of three bar stools were. He claimed one and set up his homework station in time to slot his macchiato dish in the last remaining open spot.

"Thank you," he said. Lee put a hand on his hip as Milo took a delighted sip and hummed in content. "This is just what I needed. I usually grab something from the dining hall in the mornings."

"Consequences of waking up early," Lee said. He nodded to the open notebook beside Milo's laptop and said, "What're you working on?"

Milo slumped with a groan and said, "Writing a Spanish paper."

Lee tipped his head to the side, frowning. "Don't you... speak Spanish?"

"Sí," Milo moaned against the countertop. It sounded oddly sensual and it was all Lee could do to stop himself from crumbling into a thousand, whipped pieces. "But I came in with next to no credits so I have to take all of the gen eds this year."

"Sucks. But how hard can Spanish class be for you?"

Milo groaned again and straightened a little, still sluggish but altogether there as he explained, "But this is 4000 level Spanish. I have the mental dictionary of a toddler both in English and in Spanish.

"I wish I was as brilliant as you. Then I wouldn't have to suffer through this shit," Milo said, swiping up the dictionary beside his computer for Lee to see. He slapped it down on the counter with a laugh.

Lee's cheeks became inflamed. He really needed to get his blush under control. "You don't know that I'm brilliant."

"Oh, right, Mr. I-Turned-Down-USFC-Law," Milo teased.

Lee rolled his eyes. "That's different. If you're motivated to get something done, then... it isn't hard at all."

"Says you," Milo said through a laugh, leaning over the counter to say it.

There were customers to attend to, though, so Lee went back to work and Milo returned to the book at hand. When the morning rush slowed down and the clock ticked closer to seven, Lee returned to the far end of the counter. He knew he'd be a distraction—at least, he hoped he was worthy enough to be. The initial anxiety of being completely ignored vanished, however, when Milo looked up from his computer with a look of relief. His macchiato cup was empty, and the dimness in his eyes had completely vanished now that the sun was up and the caffeine was absorbed into his bloodstream.

Milo beamed widely at him and said, "Hey! How's it going?"

Lee startled a little, a hand on his chest. "Since when were you awake? I leave and come back and you're a new person."

"The proper amount of espresso will do that to a person," Milo said. He tipped his head to the side with a shrug. "And also excellent company."

Lee scoffed and muttered, "Don't be ridiculous," and walked away. He went to fill an order that his coworker put atop the espresso machine, but the moment he picked up the cup, he glanced back at Milo, who had his chin perched on his hand, a soft smile on his lips. The idiot even went so far as to wave at Lee, like this was some cheesy romcom.

"Idiot," Lee whispered to himself as he pulled a shot of espresso grounds and locked it into the machine with enough force to knock a man unconscious. More than once he thought about an ideal apocalypse weapon and for him, it'd probably be an espresso filter.

The morning went on and, at the end of Lee's shift at ten, he made one last drink for Milo—a triple shot latte. When he emerged from the back room with his backpack, Milo had his things packed up and ready to go, sipping idly at his latte with a pleased look on his soft face.

Milo leapt from his stool and led the way out of the building. When he held the door open for Lee, he swept his hand in a broad gesture, leading him forward. Lee didn't expect him to pull the same maneuver he did at the dining hall, but there was Milo, with his hand hovering against his upper back as they walked.

Milo clasped his hand on Lee's opposite shoulder suddenly. Lee jumped at the abrupt, aggressive contact and barely managed to recover as Milo said, "So, I figured today was a good day to start you off because it's a game day for me, which means I can't go ham even if I wanted to. Coach Mackernasey would have my hide if I was too sore to play at my best."

Lee swayed against Milo's side, fully aware of the fact that they were the same height which meant that Lee's hand was literally inches from Milo's ass. At this rate, Lee would need blood pressure medication, or maybe a healthy dose of edibles, just to calm down and shut up.

Unfortunately, his doctor never prescribed anything to shut him up (much to his brother's disappointment).

"There are other ways to get sore outside of working out," Lee said with a roll of his eyes. He'd go to Hell for this, he was sure of it, and it was almost worth it when he saw the look on Milo's face. Lee put a hand to his face and said, "Please ignore me."

"Was that a sexual joke?!" Milo screamed.

Lee hissed at him to pipe down. It may have been the weekend, but on game days, students were up and about, decked out in Hunter green. People looked at them oddly, wearing their hardly-ironic hunting camouflage suspenders as Milo screamed, "I can't believe it!"

"I said forget it," Lee seethed, ducking out of Milo's grasp. "We're ignoring it. It didn't happen."

"Talk dirty to me again, please, I beg you," Milo prompted, teasingly. He pranced after Lee, who was now half-jogging out of the public eye, face red with horrible embarrassment.

Milo chased Lee through the doors of the gym. By then, the gym was just barely opening, and given the weekend and the game, the place was practically empty. Lee knew, as he scanned his card and jogged to the monstrous stairs, that Milo could catch up to him in a breeze if he so choose. Park was a running back, for Chrissake, and a good one at that. His sprint could overtake Lee in a second, easy.

Lee spun around the railing and soared down to the basement. He landed on two feet and turned like a gymnast, hands in the air. He didn't expect Milo to lunge straight at him, though, which put him in the interesting predicament of hugging Milo.

Milo gave him a fond pat on the head and pulled back, holding Lee by the shoulders. Lee swayed, dizzy, as Milo said, "I don't know why Rushi Roll never introduced us before. Had I known his lab partner had a habit of making sexual jokes, I would have pestered him more about it."

I really only make sexual jokes when I'm around you, he almost said, but his filter was coming back out of sheer survival instincts.

"Considering that's the exact reason Rushil said he never wanted to introduce you to me..." Lee started as he brushed Milo's hands off. He turned on his heels and swept his arms out towards the room and the locker room ahead. "So... what's the plan?"

"Yoga," Milo said.

Lee laughed. "Come on, I'm serious. What're we doing? You gonna teach me how to use the machines upstairs or...?" He glanced over his shoulder, and Milo's expression didn't change. Milo was serious. "I have the balance of a newly born giraffe, man."

"All the more reason to practice," Milo said.

"If I stand on a bus it's almost guaranteed that I'll tip over," he insisted.

"It means your core needs work! Come on, trust me, it'll be good for you."

Lee stared at Milo as the guy walked past him and beat him to the locker room. Lee sighed. All the previous night he had reassured himself that he couldn't look that stupid on a treadmill or an elliptical... lifting weights, or whatever... But yoga was another story. He couldn't prepare for the humiliation that would befall him as soon as he set foot on a yoga mat.

There was a yoga class that was due to end just before Milo would have to leave for the game. When they set foot in the second floor room, Lee's anxiety skyrocketed, only to take an immediate nosedive. There were other people in the room. It wouldn't just be the two of them.

Milo fetched them mats like he'd done this a dozen times before. He probably had, but the image of the entire Hunter football team doing yoga was almost too much for Lee to handle. He couldn't fathom Roland Ball or linebacker Simon doing downward-facing dog or warrior I.

Lee scoffed a little, smiling despite himself when a mat dropped to the ground in front of him and rolled to his feet. He ducked down to flatten it out as Milo rolled his mat out parallel to his own, just a few feet away.

"What're you laughing at?" Milo said.

"Just thinking about other football players doing this. Doing yoga," he explained as he took a seat. Milo wasn't wearing his shoes or socks, so Lee did away with his own and put them at the end of the mat.

Milo took a sip of water from his water bottle before asking, "Like who specifically?"

Lee folded his arms around his knees and hummed. "Specifically... Roland Ball and Simon."

Milo smiled and cursed a little, turning away. Lee raised an eyebrow at him and asked what that was about. Milo set his water bottle aside. "I seriously had my doubts that you knew a thing about our team. Does that mean you knew who I was before Rushi Roll introduced us?"

Lee clamped his mouth shut. As if he'd admit to knowing almost all sixty Hunter teammates by name. The freshmen were a little more difficult for him to keep track of, as there were always kids that dropped and kids on the waitlist being put on the roster.

The yoga instructor saved him from having to answer.

The session commenced in tandem with Lee's ineptitude. He could understand where Milo came from—they were the same height, same build, but Lee looked more like a malnourished, pre-pubescent version of Milo. His limbs felt gangly and even more clumsy on the yoga mat, but he had nothing but praise for his usual posture. Lee sat and walked like an athlete—like his muscles were too big for his body, shoulders back, room to move around. He always thought guys who walked with that level of confidence were douches, but alas, there he was, faking it until he made it.

He wore narrow sweatpants that day after work, when he had the chance to change in the locker room. They worked nicely for yoga, as they were worn in hand-me-downs from Sen. They were soft, cozy, and comfortable.

The yoga class was mainly comprised of women and one guy who was very obviously as straight as a circle. Lee glanced over all of them when he wasn't focusing all of his energy into the one foot he had posted on the ground, the other flat against his inner thigh. He glanced over at Milo, who lifted his eyes from where he had been... checking Lee out?

"Your balance is fine, I don't know why you were complaining," Milo said.

Lee center of balance flew out from under him. He wavered to the side and, arms swinging, came to a stop with both feet on the ground. Milo laughed at him.

At the end of the session, they were instructed to lie on the ground. Lee felt weird and uncomfortable closing his eyes for so long in a room full of strangers. It was even weirder when the instructor stopped at every one of their mats to give them a gentle neck massage with the most powerful smelling substance on the planet. Lee's nose hairs were incinerated that day, and the smell followed him out of the room. The lotion dried icy cold—menthol, probably.

He rubbed a hand against his neck and held his fingers out to see if the substance was visible. It wasn't.

They were interrupted by a girl reaching out for Milo's shoulder. She was a cute, blonde-haired freshmen with dimples that punctuated her smile as she said, "Good luck today, Milo."

"Yeah, you're gonna do great!" her friend said.

"Thanks, guys," Milo said, beaming. He pat their shoulders as they passed him out into the hallway. He crossed his arms and turned a proud smile onto Lee, who gave him a flat stare. "What?"

"You're ridiculous, that's all," Lee said.

They went to the locker room in the basement where Milo fetched his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. His shoes were back on, and the half-finished latte in his locker was now cold, but he chugged it all without a second thought.

"Heathen," Lee said. "You're supposed to drink it warm."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Milo said, chucking the empty cup in the bin. "I gotta skedaddle. No training tomorrow morning 'cause I'll be hungover as fuck, but I might try to hit the gym tomorrow night if you're down."

"Y-Yeah, sure." He had so much homework to finish—there was no reconciling that fact. However, he'd let Park fuck his grade over for him and have no regrets. His family would probably thank Park for it, quite honestly.

Lee pulled his cutoff shirt over his head and balled it up into his backpack. He slipped his arms into his Starbucks button up, only to stop when he realized that Milo was standing there with more to say. Lee pinched the open front closed with his hand and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Milo leant against the locker beside him and asked, "So are you coming to the party tonight?"

"I-I didn't know I was invited," he confessed. Sure, Rushil mentioned it, but he had seventeen tabs open on his laptop browser for a term paper, and not one of them said Facebook.

"Of course you're invited," Milo said, smiling. "And don't worry about drinking. Cops aren't allowed to bust frat parties."

Lee scoffed as he looked down to button up his shirt. "I've never heard of that. Sounds fake."

"Why do you think it's called Frat Row? If one party got busted, they'd blame the others. Unspoken rule not to call the cops on your neighbors on that street," he explained. He reached out to nudge Lee in the arm before stepping back. "Sigma Alpha tonight. I'll see you there."

The moment Lee was certain Milo was gone, he dropped his forehead onto the locker next to him and whispered, "Fucking Park..." in a pained groan under his breath. He twisted around and started to slump. The instant he did, though, he was interrupted by the man himself appearing from around the corner.

Lee scrambled to straighten himself as Milo leaned out from around the corner and pointed at him. "One last thing," he said. Lee stared at him, eyes wide. "Do you dance?"

"I, uh, I don't know?"

"We're finding out tonight. You and me, okay? Got it? Good—see you then!" Milo said, and he was off, running to the exit and out of the gym.

Lee fell onto the bench with a sharp inhale. He let it out with a gasp, hand fisted in his hair.