From the Inside Out

by Talya Andor

  "Mmm…you're warm," Lucas mumbled.

  "And you have homework. Come on, play time is over."

  They ended up settled side by side in the study area of the apartment, Soren using Brandon's desktop, Lucas sitting kitty-corner. The arrangement worked for all of twenty minutes before Brandon and Lisa burst through the door, still jazzed up from an evening out but needing to hit the computer and books same as they did. They displaced Soren and Lucas to the rec room area, where Lucas gave his laptop to Soren to work on a paper and he pulled out the Investments text he'd been avoiding since the day before.

  "Lucas?" Soren asked, when they had studied about half an hour longer and his typing had dwindled to hunting and pecking.

  Lucas marked off his place with a finger and looked up. Soren in the evening, he decided, was one of the best, all half-falling over and sleepy-eyed and looking ready for bed. Though Soren when they had gone out clubbing had been tempting as well, and Soren in the morning made him want to trap him beneath the covers and never leave.

  "What are we doing tomorrow?" Soren shut the laptop, leaning forward with a curious expression. "I've got work after my last class…"

  Lucas pondered, briefly, that he wouldn't mind at all if they could be attached at the hip for a short time. At least until this feeling, always wanting to be with Soren, was less of a constant ache and more a manageable condition. "You have time for lunch before that?"

  "I think so, yes."

  "Okay."

  They compared schedules for the next day and settled on meeting after Lucas's second class on campus, then meeting up again after his last class before lunch. After work Soren figured the prudent thing for him to do would be to go home for a night.

  "Now that we've settled that," Lucas murmured, invading Soren's space with a hand and going for a frontal assault, "why don't we—"

  "Why don't we finish our homework, Mr. Ever-ready?" Soren pulled Lucas's laptop back onto his lap and opened it.

  "Ow, my burn…"

  Soren leveled Lucas with a Claire-like look. "It's been healed. It peeled like a sunburn. You bitched about it."

  "Right. Damn." Lucas looked at the cramped lines of text in his Investments book. "Are you sure you want to be virtuous?"

  "With what parts of me that remain virtuous, yes." Soren tilted his head and gave Lucas a slow, infuriating smile. "The virtuous get their just reward, you know."

  "Promise?" Lucas asked eagerly, and Soren smiled.

  *~*~*

  The sun slanted in through the wide classroom windows and Soren was resting his head heavily on his hand. He was glad he'd done the class reading, because he was fighting sleep with every tick of the clock. Duly rewarding virtue after accomplishing homework had kept them both up past one o'clock.

  "Anyone else have anything further to say on John Steinbeck?" the teacher asked loudly.

  Soren's attention snapped to the front of the class. His wasn't the only drowsy head to lift, he noticed, which was probably why the teacher had all but yelled. Modern American authors was a drier subject than he'd anticipated. Why couldn't they include authors like William Gibson or Christopher Moore or even someone like Jim Grimsley? That had a better chance of keeping anyone's eyes open during the readings, or in class.

  The teacher sighed. "Don't forget, by Friday you need to read the first ten chapters of the Joyce Carol Oates assignment and be prepared for a quiz and discussion." The class was rustling with the furtive motions of students beginning to put their things away.

  As Soren reached for his bag, his borrowed shirt rode up his arm, and a grin crept over his face. Lucas had tossed a lace-up-the-side shirt at him that morning with the invitation to wear it because it would look good on him.

  Of course, Soren's first question had been whose shirt it was, because he'd never seen anything like it before. Lucas had ducked his head, abashed, and replied he'd bought it to go clubbing, but had never had the guts to see if he could pull it off.

  After trying it on and examining himself critically in the mirror, Soren had decided he could, indeed, pull it off. Although the shirt was a little loose in the shoulders, he was pleased with the ultimate results of his experiment and Lucas had certainly seemed to appreciate it. He'd had trouble keeping his hands off Soren before he had to scoot out the door for his first class.

  Joining the stream of people of people exiting the class, Soren hitched his bag onto his shoulder and went over the conversation he and Lucas had re-hashed that morning before breakfast.

  "I mean it, you know," Lucas had said, rolling over, propping his head on Soren's stomach.

  "Mean what?" Soren asked sleepily, playing with Lucas's fine hair and flexing his fingers in at the roots to scratch at Lucas's scalp and make him purr like an over-large feline. He was fascinated with Lucas's hair, the softness of the fine strands, the unbelievable towhead paleness of it that was real, not bleached.

  "Moving in. Like, maybe part of the time to start, you know?" Lucas brought a hand up to rest in the crook of Soren's neck. "How about a drawer. We could manage a drawer, don't you think?"

  Soren had smiled, and considered not answering. He didn't even have to think of his mother to say he could manage a drawer.

  Last night, after he'd gone home with Lucas and they had progressed to the next level, it had been wonderful. Nothing like what Soren had expected at all. He couldn't stop thinking about it, daydreaming it, looking forward to the moment they would do it again. Lucas had been so good, Soren had come too fast to really enjoy it. He wanted to do it again, and again. And he definitely wanted to wrap his lips around Lucas and go for ages, maybe after he'd already made Lucas come for a first time, so it could last.

  He liked the way Lucas tasted. He'd catch himself lingering on that thought, experience a sudden flush and know there were those who'd say he shouldn't, and he brushed that off.

  Soren was done denying himself.

  He milled in front of Buckley Center off to the side of the entry where students streamed in and out. He scanned the clusters of students moving over the quad between classes, but spotted no Lucas among them. Still, he was expecting a bit much when his own class had just gotten out…

  Things were going far too well. They had only been dating a few days.

  "Hey, pretty boy," said a throaty tenor voice, and arms twined around him from behind. "What are you doing for lunch?"

  "Well, I've got plans with my boyfriend," Soren murmured, and twisted around. "But I don't think he'd mind if I stood him up for you."

  "Oh, really?" Lucas raised a brow, then grinned, kissed him briefly on the mouth, and came around his side, keeping an arm around his waist. "I don't know about that; I mean, what if he's the jealous type?"

  "I think I've got more to worry about—"

  "Fucking fags," someone muttered, holding the door to Buckley open for one of his friends.

  "Excuse me?" Lucas shot back, raising his eyebrow at the skinny guy, someone Soren recognized as a junior. "Someone jealous?"

  The skinny guy snorted. "Yeah, right."

  Soren was startled when Lucas tugged on his wrist, apparently trying to pull him into a clinch. His lips were pursed, at least. "No, get off me, you idiot."

  "Just trying to demonstrate what he's missing out on!" Lucas said with a laugh, but he let Soren disengage, making a playful grimace when Soren glared at him.

  They left the scene while the junior and his friends went the other way. Soren folded his arms. Why should he act any differently than any other couple on campus, just because of a few jerks?

  He reached out for Lucas's hand and was pleased to see the smile on Lucas's face when he took it. They were halfway to the Cove when a cheerful voice hailed them. "Wait, hey, wait up, you two!" They paused, turning to check out their pursuer. Someone tackled Soren, nearly cutting off his air supply and breaking him away from Lucas.

  "Ack…Lisa…killing me…" Soren wheezed, grabbing at the arm locked across his throat, prepared to use a nerve pinch learn
ed from years of sibling warfare. Over the past couple of months, he and Lisa had seen enough of one another and got along so well, he considered her part of his tiny but slowly-widening circle of friends.

  "Hey, little brother," Lisa greeted him, ruffling his hair and then releasing him. "Hey, Lucas."

  "What's up?" Lucas said, then raised his hand to Brandon, who'd chosen a more leisurely approach. "How's it going?"

  "What is it with younger women who insist on calling me things like 'kid' and 'little brother?'" Soren asked, and Lisa grinned at him impishly.

  Lucas reeled him in by the elbow, and twined an arm through Soren's. "I'll protect you from her if she gets too familiar," he said, giving her a dark look.

  "Ahh! Hold that pose!" Lisa swooned as Brandon caught up to them. "So cute…"

  "Hey, what about me?" Brandon asked.

  "Oh, you're adorable, all right," Lisa said, giving him a look before slipping her hand in his. "But you're not as pretty as they are."

  "Can't dispute that. We going to lunch?"

  They all had Cove points, because the Cove restaurant was one of the most convenient places to have lunch near campus. After putting their orders in, Soren felt fingers threading through his hair and he tilted his head back, concentrating on the lazy-sensuous enjoyment of someone playing with it. Then Lucas's fingers were pulling his hair tie free, depositing it in his hand.

  "Hey. Come on, it's too long to leave loose."

  "I like it better that way," Lucas said, putting his head to the side with a considering look. "Leave it?"

  "I don't like it in my face," Soren said, but he was already slipping the tie over his wrist to leave his hair free. He preferred to keep it back, but it made him happy to think Lucas thought he looked good with his hair loose.

  "Indulge me."

  Smiling, Soren drifted toward the case of drinks to select one for his meal. He made a face at the bottles of coffee Frappuccino and settled on water. His hair was getting too long, actually. He should get it cut or at least trimmed…which made him think of his mother, and Soren grimaced again. He'd been avoiding her for about a week. Eventually he would have to go home and hope for the best; hope his father had made some kind of dent in her attitude.

  Soren retrieved his order from the counter and joined Lucas, Brandon, and Lisa at the table they had chosen by the window. He shook his hair back, attempted to eat his sandwich, and glanced at Lucas out of the corner of his eye as he brushed another length of hair over his shoulder. It was too long, and very fine, which meant it slid whichever way he didn't want it to go whenever something had to be done.

  "Now can I pull it back?" Soren asked, pulling the tie off his wrist.

  "You may," Lucas said with the air of a king conferring a boon.

  Lisa smirked at them from across the table. "Too cute. So, what's the plan for tonight?"

  Soren tied his hair back, annoyed at Lucas's bossy attitude. With Brandon and Lisa there, he wouldn't speak up. Would he anyhow, though, even if they were alone?

  "Tonight he's working," Lucas replied, giving a nod to Soren. "I've got my Marketing class until six-fifteen or so."

  Brandon stole a fry from Lisa, earning himself a dirty look. "You want us to hold dinner for you?"

  "That would be great, if you don't mind." Lucas shifted, leaning against Soren and reaching for his wallet. "Let me—"

  "Save it," Brandon said, holding up a hand. "Just pick up a few communal groceries next time you're at the store, okay? Some stir-fry meat, ginger, bell peppers, and onions should do it."

  "Suits me," Lucas replied, shrugging back into his seat. He glanced sideways.

  "I wish I could come over," Soren said, "but—"

  "I know, it's okay." Lucas's warm fingers stroked down Soren's thigh. "You're working until nine-ish, right? I'll be there later, but I'm closing."

  "Trust me, I wish I could go back home with you. I'm not looking forward to facing off with my mom right now."

  Lisa tsked. "What's going on? Trouble since the dinner?"

  "I've kind of been avoiding her lately," Soren said with a shrug, picking at his sandwich now. He was losing his appetite. "Lucas is great about giving me a place to stay, but I can't stay away forever."

  "Ah. So that's why you finished your homework up last night and went to—"

  Brandon clapped a hand over her mouth. "Ignore her. She's gone soft in the head from all the boylove stories she's read."

  "Really, Claire wasn't so bad," Lucas said. "I've had worse."

  "Oh?" Soren looked at Lucas. "I thought that was the first time you'd met anyone's parents?"

  "No shit?" Brandon put in.

  Lucas gave them both cross looks. "Yes, all right, so it was the first time I've ever met someone's parents," he said, waving a fry at Brandon. "But dealing with my dad, by itself, is pretty bad, you have to admit."

  "Can't have been worse than when I met Lisa's parents," Brandon said, nudging Lisa. "Her mother started rambling on about bi-racial babies and how it would be a cruelty to our children…"

  "Ugh, like I'm planning on having any little monsters," Lisa said, digging him right back, reaching for some of his chips.

  "Well, maybe someday…"

  "Mostly she asked me uncomfortable questions," Lucas said. "Are you Catholic, what do your parents think of this, is Soren moving in with you…"

  Soren flushed and reached for his sandwich again.

  "Oh yeah?" Lisa picked up on that at once. "I'm sure she was very interested in that answer. So is he moving in?"

  "We'll see about that," Lucas replied.

  "A drawer at a time, maybe," Soren said almost at the same time. They met each other's eyes and grinned.

  Brandon laughed, reaching for one of Lucas's fries now. "Sounds like Lisa and me."

  "We'll take it at our own pace, at any rate," Lucas continued, and pressed his shoulder to Soren's. "After all, we haven't even been dating all that long."

  Soren nodded. That was what he wanted, after all. To take things at his own pace. With Lucas, he was becoming more assured that things would happen as they were meant to.

  *~*~*

  Soren slipped through Starbuck's door and was greeted with the hiss of steaming milk and the rich smell of espresso and cream. He hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and gave a wave to Sloane at the bar but she was in the midst of a couple of drinks. Soren glanced over the store. It was messy. Busy morning. A couple of customers lingered at tables near the window and two stood at the end of the bar, waiting for Sloane to put the drinks up. Aside from that, the place was empty.

  He pushed the back door open and moved for the apron nook.

  "Don't bother."

  Soren let his book-bag slide off his shoulder, giving Aaron a closed, wary look. "What are you talking about?" he asked, glancing sideways at the daily schedule. His stomach sank as he realized he was working with Aaron as their shift super until Lucas arrived in the evening.

  "Aaron," said a sharp female voice, and Danice's face appeared over his shoulder. "Go see to the floor, would you?"

  Aaron smirked and shouldered past Soren, leaving him very little room in the cramped space between the bulletin board and the wall. Their bodies brushed up against one another and Soren reeled away, turning to grab an apron off the hook. He flashed a look on their assistant manager.

  "What's going on?"

  Danice leveled a serious look on him. She was shorter than him by several inches, her round face framed with an attractively shaped short hairstyle that flattered her. Her skin was a uniform cream-coffee color and her eyes were a dark brown, somber right now as she regarded him. "You'd better come back into the office area."

  "Uh…" Soren let his apron dangle from his hand. He dropped his bag on the floor. "Yeah, sure." His hand rubbed self-consciously at the nape of his neck as he followed Danice into the back office. He didn't have a lot of choice.

  Michelle waited in the back, sitting at her desk and rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows
as if trying to ease a bad headache. She looked up as he came in, and pointed at one of the two empty chairs opposite her with her pen. "Sit down, Soren." She looked grim.

  "Michelle?" Soren asked, taking the seat furthest from her.

  Danice slid into the seat beside him, folding her hands over one knee.

  "I just have a few questions for you, Soren," Michelle began, taking a clipboard from the table and leaning forward, clasping it in both hands.

  "All right." Soren twisted the apron between his hands. The moment he'd seen that look on Aaron's face, he should have known that something was wrong.

  "You were a shift supervisor in Eugene, weren't you?"

  Soren reached behind his ear, making a hair-tucking movement when all of it was already pulled back. "That's right. It's no secret. I mean, I'm sure I mentioned it during my interview prior to hire."

  "Right." Michelle made a notation on the clipboard.

  The squirm of uneasiness in his belly doubled.

  "So you've handled cash before."

  "Well, of course." Soren shifted on his seat.

  "Mm-hmm." Michelle looked away and her brow pinched. She rubbed at the arch of her nose and brow bone with a finger.

  Danice shifted on her seat but said nothing.

  "Am I being reprimanded?" He felt almost ill. He had never been so much as taken to task on his performance before, let alone disciplined.

  Michelle's eyes met his, and they were more serious than he'd seen in a long time. "I wouldn't say that. One more question, Soren. Have you noticed anything odd about the behavior of any of the shift supervisors you've worked with?"

  "Nn…I don't think…"

  Danice leaned forward. "What? Soren, whatever it is, it might be important no matter what you think."

  Soren frowned. He had no desire to make waves over something so trivial because it would feel petty even saying it aloud. It would seem as if he was trying to divert suspicion, whatever it was for, to something that didn't necessarily matter. "Well…uh…nobody in particular, I think, but…um, sometimes Aaron spends a lot of time in the back room during our shifts."