ee thought about it through the night and into the morning and past the start of his shift at Starbucks. It kept him awake, albeit not focused, so work wasn't as spot on as it usually was. He felt stuck in muck and that muck was dubbed Milo Park trash and he was chest deep in that shit. It would take more than a cold shower just to wash it off. He could be found spacing out at the Pike's Place coffee machine nearly overflowing a dozen different coffee mugs.

In the midst of one such mug, a familiar voice sounded behind him saying, "—also take a... triple shot latte, no foam, please. Thanks!"

Lee startled at the sound. He turned, coffee swishing in the cup, and caught sight of Park in line taking his card back from the cashier with a charming smile. Milo glanced at Lee then, and that charming smile brightened tenfold.

Lee hastily finished filling up the cup and brought it to the pick up counter. He called out the name before leaning over to Milo and saying, "What're you doing here?"

"I always come here," Milo said.

Lee closed his eyes, thinking, Duh, of course. "I-I mean, what're you doing today?"

"You... literally have my schedule."

"Humor me, dammit," Lee said.

Milo laughed. He folded his forearms on the high countertop and smiled like it was his day job and he loved it. "I'm just studying some art today."

"Really," Lee droned, less impressed.

"Yeah, you," Milo said.

"Oh. That was a shitty pickup line," he said.

"You just don't have taste."

"According to you, I have excellent taste in Noods," Lee said. Milo's smile widened, his eyes sliding away from Lee and to Lee's coworker, who stared between them with a look of alarm. Lee's face turned red. "Noodles & Company! Not—never mind," he said with a dejected sigh.

He turned back to Milo to say, "What are you majoring in, anyway?"

"Physical therapy," he said.

Lee laughed and said, "I'm serious."

Milo sighed. "Yeah, you're right. It's been decided that I couldn't get into physical therapy school even if I didn't devote all my time to sports. So I'm just in the general exploratory studies course here."

Lee hummed because he really didn't have a thing to say about that. He supposed it was normal for athletes—especially ones as stellar as Milo Park—to funnel all of their energy into their designated sports. Milo was no different. Focusing too heavily on school would only be detrimental to his athletic career, and doing poorly in classes would screw football over as well. An even balance meant that meat-headed athletes at USFC tended to major in general studies for the soul purpose of playing football.

"You probably... cover a wide range of topics then, huh?" Lee said. He thought of Milo's Spanish course endeavors and thought to ask, but given Milo's dismissive attitude about school, he figured it was a topic for another day.

He moved to the far end of the espresso machine, and Milo slid over to follow him. He checked the order on the cup receipt and pulled a shot of espresso and stuck the filter into the machine. He cranked the handle tight and slid a shot glass underneath before flipping the switch.

"Yeah... I don't really like to talk about school," he confessed, only to backtrack quickly. "But I mean, I'd love to listen to what your classes are like! And what you're doing in your major. It's probably more interesting."

"It's really not," Lee grimaced. "Mostly paying copious amounts of money for competitive suffering. There's only fifty slots in mine and Rushil's OChem class for an 'A'. A hundred seventy-five slots for a passing grade, which means that nearly half of the class fails."

"You're kidding," Milo said, shocked. Lee nodded, tipping the espresso shots into the cup. He steamed the milk and poured it in as Milo watched. When that was done, he slid it onto the counter beside the one his coworker made and read off the receipts.

They both said 'Milo'.

Lee frowned at them before looking up to where Milo smiled sweetly at him. He picked up the drinks and said, "Thanks! I'll see you after class!"

"Y-Yeah, sure," Lee said, staring after Milo as the guy went to the exit. Lee continued to watch as Milo put his back to the door and pushed it open, spinning out with a flourish. He held out the cup to someone who rose from the bench outside.

Lee wondered if he should have done a better job cleaning those windows, because he really could not believe his eyes. What were the odds that Milo would bring his date from last Wednesday back?

After they had made out in Roland Ball's bedroom? If that wasn't a bonding moment, Lee didn't know what was.

The blonde haired, round glasses guy smiled through the storefront window like he knew Lee was watching. If he knew Lee was watching, though, then he must be aware of the murderous look on his face, plotting a murder. Rationally, he knew he couldn't be angry at the stranger, so it all funneled to the football idiot walking out of sight.

It was enough to get Lee's brain back on track, though.

He silently fumed through the rest of work and on his way to class. He wanted to make petty excuses, saying, "Oh, but we aren't technically dating so he can do whatever he wants," but they just made him feel like shit for not doing a damn thing. "Was I supposed to make it clear?"

He grew so frustrated and angry that he took a breather outside of the OChem laboratory facility. He paced the front of the building until he effectively intercepted Alex on their way in.

"Oh, Lee—if you linger out here any longer you're gonna miss the start of class," they said.

Lee grabbed them by the shoulders and said, "I'm panicking and I can't let Rushil know."

"Why? Is it boy trouble? Ooh, count me in. What's happening? Catch me up," Alex demanded.

Lee gestured to the building.

Alex waved a dismissive hand. "Class doesn't start without me so fuck that. Out with it, man."

And, so, Lee admitted to the make out session, the almost-but-not-quite phone sex, down to that morning when Park bought drinks for two. By then they were outside of the lab room door and Lee could see Rushil fiddling away at his phone, distracted. The commotion in the room drowned out Alex's voice, though, so there was no way for Rushil to hear it.

"Well, he's a bitch and you deserve better," Alex decided with a firm nod.

"You think everyone's a bitch, though," Lee argued.

"He's the biggest bitch of them all."

"Gee, thanks," he sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the room before saying, "I just don't know how to, like, softly break up with him. I mean, as gym buddies. We aren't dating, I can't reiterate that enough. But I don't think I can be gym buddies with someone who stuck their tongue in my mouth anyway."

Alex nodded in understanding. "Yeah, that sounds distracting. In any case, it'll deter him from coming back to Starbucks. Maybe you won't have to see him again? So don't worry on a gentle..." They made a breaking motion with their two hands before crossing the threshold with a smile, effectively bringing the classroom shenanigans to a screeching halt.

Lee hurried to join Rushil at the lab table. He smiled at Rushil as he sat down, swinging his backpack to the ground. As lab commenced, Lee couldn't help but study Rushil's profile and wonder if his best friend had the self control to keep this knowledge to himself.

But he's roommates with the guy. I don't want their bro relationship to sour just because I'd punch Park for one corn chip.

Lee ignored the tension in his shoulders and let out a sigh. He'd make it through this, eventually, and explain himself to Rushil afterwards. It wasn't long after that anxiety came swooping in like a hawk going in for the kill.

He might not ruin Rushil's relationship with Park, but what if... Rushil chose Park over Lee?

"Hey, Rushil?" Lee said as they left the building after lab. Rushil hummed thoughtfully to let Lee know he was listening. "Are you and Park, like... close at all?"

"Define 'close'."

"Like, would you room with him next year."

"Nah, I don't think so. There's nothing wrong with him, and he's not a slob or anything, but he's gonna be living at Sigma Alpha and I was thinking of maybe... rooming with you?" he said. It wasn't what Lee expected out of this conversation, but he supposed he set himself up for it.

Lee's steps stuttered to a halt. Rushil turned back to him in a panic, saying, "But we don't have to! I mean, just an idea. If we get an apartment together, it'd be cheaper, but if we both get enough scholarships to cover the housing cost, or maybe become RAs—"

"I'd... really like to room with you, too," Lee confessed. Rushil let out a relieved sigh and slumped back, throwing his arms in the air. Lee almost worried that Rushil would tip back and straight over the concrete ledge overlooking the river.

He reached out as if to stop Rushil from going to far, only to jump when Rushil shouted, "ROOMMATES FOR LIFE!"

"We aren't getting married, Jesus," Lee cried, floundering to shut Rushil up. He slapped a hand over his friend's mouth as some students passed and gave them weird looks. Lee smiled apologetically to them before turning a glare onto Rushil.

Rushil smiled as he put his arms around Lee and said, "If I wasn't straight, I'd propose right here and now."

"On your knees then, coward," Lee said as Rushil's hair tickled his cheek.

They continued walking, Rushil's arm around Lee's shoulders, and Lee's hand on Rushil's back. "Speaking of being on your knees—How was it at the party?" Rushil asked.

Lee rolled his eyes and said, "Nothing happened. And I'm serious about that—nothing happened."

"Uh-huh, sure, so that's why Milo's got your name on every party list now," Rushil laughed.

Lee bristled. This was news to him, and it more or less pissed him off. So Milo could bring that blonde-headed bastard to Starbucks and expect Lee to go along with it?

"It's... probably just 'cause I'm OK at dancing. If I wanted to dance, I'd just call up Olivia."

Rushil rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, that's it."

Lee scuffed his shoe on a pebble, frowning at the ground. "What do you mean by... 'every party list'?"

"Sigma Alpha has a party this Thursday since they're leaving for an out of state game on Friday. And then on Saturday the game day party is at the Republic," Rushil explained.

The Republic was an apartment complex off of Frat Row, just east of campus. The apartments were brand-spanking-new and expensive as all Hell, which meant that wealthy party goers tended to sign leases there. On game day mornings, they set up tailgates in the central parking lot and hired a DJ to blast throwback tunes.

Lee only knew about it because he could hear Fall Out Boy all the way from Manley Hall at eight on the Saturday mornings he didn't work.

"I don't know," Lee sighed. "My paper's due next week and we've got an exam coming up in OChem..."

"We'll get it done," Rushil promised. "But it was really fun with you there. Usually I don't know who to talk to if I go to those things so I just sort of stopped at the start of the semester."

"I'll think about it," Lee lied.

They slowed in front of the gym where Rushil bid him farewell and went off back to Lockhart Hall. Lee waved until the act of waving made his arm feel like jello. He dropped his hand to his side with a sigh and turned to climb the steps up to the gym doors.

Milo wasn't in the entrance, and Lee was hesitant to even check in. He waited a minute by the doors, hoping that he wouldn't have to go in at all, but when Milo didn't show, Lee sighed and scanned his student card. He started down the steps to the locker room, feet all but dragging past the free weight room.

He tugged on the straps of his backpack as he pushed into the men's locker room. He peered in, a hand on the door. It was quiet aside from one of the showers going off on the far side of the locker room. He let the door creak shut behind him.

He looked down every aisle of lockers. Last time, they had packed their things away past the tiled wall that divided the locker room into sections. He saw Milo's backpack before the man himself, and he almost turned tail and ran for it.

He hesitated, looking back at the exit, but by then, his shadow had already fallen in Milo's periphery. He groaned internally when Milo said, "Great! You're here!"

Lee sucked in a deep breath and held it as he turned the corner. Milo was on the bench lacing up his sneakers, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a plain white tank top that flattered his defined pecs. His chest was anything but flat, which Lee could appreciate. Like two, muscly pillows—

Lee shook the visual out of his head.

"Y-Yeah, hey, listen—" Lee started.

Milo jumped to his feet and dropped his eyes down the length of Lee's frame. Lee's mouth ran dry when Milo put his lip between his teeth on his way back up. "Ai, yai, yai—Sometimes I swear I have a leg fettish so pardon my language but fuck, those jeans look good on you," he said.

Lee swallowed hard. What was he going to say? Oh, right.

"You can cut that out, seriously," he said, waving his hand dismissively between them, but Milo was stepping closer with a cheeky grin.

"What, you wanna skip the intro?" he said.

Lee shivered. Milo's fingers grazed over his obliques, sending the skin under his button up shirt trembling. He stilled at the pressure of Milo's thumbs at the edge of his hips. His eyes were stuck on Milo's brown irises where the shadows darkened them, and where they dipped below Lee's eyes and settled lower.

Milo pushed their lips together in a slow, tantalizing motion that Lee leant into despite the way his brain screamed at him for it. He let out an unsteady breath against Milo's lips, falling into the motion Milo set that put him over the edge of rational thought. They weren't in the locker room now, in public, and the sound of their chaste, consecutive kisses were the only thing sounding in Lee's ears.

He licked his tongue between Milo's lips as he pulled back to breathe. He nearly went in again, but his eyes shot open as he realized what they were doing.

He put a hand on Milo's chest to stop him from leaning in again. He pushed Milo back, his heart pounding rapidly in his ribcage. He could barely breathe, let alone speak. "I can't do this," Lee said, staring at his feet.

Milo blinked at him. He reached out for Lee's waist again, but he took an unsteady step back. His hand fell from Milo's chest.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Lee wanted scream a hole on the fabric of the spacetime continuum. He put a hand to his forehead and laughed, gesturing to the locker room. "This is too weird, Park. I'm not into it."

He took another step back as Milo's brow furrowed and he said, "What do you mean? We don't have to—I thought—?"

"Yeah, well, don't think too hard about it. I'll see you around," he said.

As he walked away, he felt the weight lift off of his chest. He escaped from the locker room with a breath of cold relief. It crystalized over the sweltering heat in his cheeks where he splayed his hands and wondered what the hell he got himself into.