"He's not going to come."

Skittery paced the small room nervously, straightening things at random. He had never been an overly clean person, but he sure as hell didn't want to give a bad impression. This was the first time the eagerly expected guest was going to be present at his home. He felt the crushing need to present the dismal, two room studio apartment at its best. Growling in frustration, Skittery glanced at the clock and then threw himself onto the couch. His guest was three minutes late, exactly.

"I can't believe I even asked him to come here," Skittery moaned. "Great --" he shook his head despairingly "– I'm starting to talk to myself. Fantastic."

The past week had been rough on him. He was the type of guy who liked to know exactly what was going on. More than that, he liked to be in control. When he met a new guy, he liked to call the shots. Flinging himself back off of the couch, Skittery moved purposefully to the CD player and his now neatly organized stacks of CDs. He flipped past some ones that he felt accurately reflected his dark mood, but picked up Revolver instead. Angsty music was not what he needed right now. He needed a Beatles pick-me-up. Funnily enough, that was how this whole thing had started.

A group of boys moved through a humming crowd in a generic mall. The boys didn't really want to go to that mall, but as most of them were too young or too poor to really do anything else, it would have to do. Suddenly, Skittery perked up his ears. Somehow, the elevator music of the mall had suddenly turned into something gorgeous. He noticed one of the other boys turn his head.

"'Instant Karma!'," Jack said.

Skittery nodded, confused.

Jack shrugged, flinching under his companion's flinty stare.

"What?"

"You like John Lennon?"

Jack shrugged again.

"He's only one of the most amazing artists of the 20th century, Skit."

That was how it had all started. A perfunctory statement about the genius of John Lennon led to a general conversation, full of joyful exclamations, about shared favorite groups, top ten favorite songs, and then a mutual comfortableness.

But now there were just jitters. When they were at the mall, Skittery had found it so easy to talk to Jack, easier than he ever had before and easier than with anyone else. It had all been so crazy – first the explosion of feelings with the recognition of similarities, then the stolen kiss behind the bathrooms while the other guys ogled some high school girls. He couldn't believe that all this had happened so fast, and with Jack of all people. But it felt so right. Now, however, it felt like an acid volcano was about to erupt out of his stomach. He just didn't know what to expect. He didn't know how to act. He didn't know what this was. He didn't know anything.

The doorbell rang, and, after quickly checking his breath, Skittery answered the door. Jack was leaning against the door jamb, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that made Skittery's breath catch in his chest.

"Hey, Skit."

"Hey, Jack. C'mon in. Make yourself at home."

Jack slouched in, looking around at the sparse but nice furnishings. They stood awkwardly in the center of the room.

"I like your place."

"Thanks."

Rocking back and forth on their heels, two pairs of eyes wandered around the room, looking at everything except the one thing they wanted. Suddenly, Jack met Skittery's eyes.

"Aw, hell," he muttered, and, reaching forward, cupped Skittery's face and kissed him. At first, Skittery almost couldn't react, and then his instincts kicked in and he grabbed Jack's hair, pulling him in tighter. Finally, they broke apart.

"I've been waiting for you to do that," Skittery said, feeling his heart beat next to Jack's.

"I know," Jack replied, pulling him in for another kiss.