Here be the sequel thingy 8I I debated making a new story for it, but everyone's been following this story… so why not. I've got a plot lined up for this fic, hope you don't mind 8I Enjoy.

Oh also there's smut in this sequel too just making sure peeps know yeah I'll shut up now.

Disclaimer: Guess who has never been to NYC in her life and is too lazy to research much about it!? *shot*

Other Disclaimer: Choral majors aren't all condescending bastards, I just made them look that way for drama's sake o *cough* They usually are though *cough*

"Shaaaaaaaun…"

The Brit grumbled into the phone. "What?"

"I miss you."

Shaun had to fight not to throw the phone at the wall. "Jesus Christ Desmond, how many bloody times have you said that this week?"

"… Like thirty…"

"Yeah. It's getting kind of annoying."

"You're only ripping on me because you won't say it. I have to say it for the both of us!"

Shaun paused. "You can't prove that."

"I don't have to. We both know it's true."

Shaun rubbed his eyes. "Look, I would love to chat, but it's getting really, really late. Don't you have class in… three hours?"

"... Yeah."

"Get to bed, love. I'll call you later, when you're not dead, or under a pile of homework."

"I'm dead without you, Shaun."

"Well then you'd better wake up again because I'm not calling you until then."

"Fuuuck…"

"Good night, Desmond."

"G'night, sexy."

Shaun shook his head as he hung up, tossing his phone onto the sofa next to him. He did miss him. A lot. It was impossible to get through the day without thinking at least one dirty thing about the young man. And Desmond didn't help at all, with his incessant calling and whining about how much he misses the cuddling, and the chats about what George Washington would think of the music of today, and the mind-blowing sex—

No, stop right there, Shaun. You'll drive yourself crazy. He sighed, frustratedly. It was a terrible idea, but he needed to go out. A little fresh air and a drink might relieve his stress. And maybe something to stick his dick into. That might help too. He grabbed his wallet and strode out of his apartment with more purpose than he'd had all week.

"So I've got like three classes with big projects to do, and then my midterms are coming up soon. I'm dying."

Shaun answered absently on the other end. "That is what you signed up for, is it not?"

Desmond flopped back on his bed. "Yeah, but I didn't know it would be so hard. Seriously. I have to sightread stuff for Eartraining every class, I don't understand intervals for theory class, and my choir director is a condescending bitch-" he let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm just stressing way too much."

"Yeah, no kidding. Why don't you just get it all done and over with? You shouldn't be talking to me when you've got work to do."

Desmond frowned, saddened. "I don't want to."

"You can't just spend all your time talking to me."

"It's not worth being here if I can't talk to you all the time."

Shaun sighed. "Don't you like it there? You're supposed to be enjoying yourself. Education should be novel and exciting."

"Well it's a lot more work than novelty. And everyone in Concert Chorale is self-centered and arrogant. They're not even that good. I just want to enjoy making music with them… but they're just terrible people."

"Perhaps you should tell them?"

"Nah… They'll just get all offended, and go behind their backs to ruin my life. I'd rather just learn an instrument. Maybe piano."

"That would probably be more difficult to deal with."

"Yeah. But what I'm dealing with right now is hard enough. I'm willing to try new things."

"Well then, I suppose you'll have to deal with the consequences."

Desmond grinned. "Hey. You know what else is hard?"

There was a pause on the other end. "No. I'm not doing this."

"Come on, I'm dying."

"I am not having phone sex with you. I'm at school."

"Then go home! Jesus, you never spend any time there."

"Even if I went home, I would not have phone sex with you."

"You haven't even tried it."

"No."

Desmond made a puppy dog face in loss.

"And I can tell you're making that face. I won't do it."

"Why? What's so horrible about it?"

"It's bloody awkward!"

"Why, because you have to describe all the dirty, horrible things you'd love to do to me? And you get to hear my reaction?"

There was silence for a few moments. "I'm going home. I'll call you when I get there."

Desmond smirked. "I'll be waiting."

"I've been sexiled from my room."

There was a pause on the other line. "What?"

"Sexiled. Meaning my dorm mate brought a girl back and is having sex with her. It was awkward. So I left."

"And you're telling me this, why?"

"I kinda wanna get back at him for it. I left my theory textbook back there and now I can't get my work done…"

Shaun paused, then chuckled. "Do you mean you want to bring someone back to your dorm, or have me call you while you're there and demand satisfaction to make your roommate uncomfortable?"

"Well, either or…"

"Desmond, if you want to have sex with someone, you don't have to ask me."

"I like talking to you more, though…" Desmond tried not to blush.

"People might say that's a little weird."

"But you don't think so?"

"Maybe a little. You should go interact with your peers."

"I don't have to have sex with everyone I meet, god—!" He remembered he was in the library, and kept his voice down. Now he was blushing.

"Jesus, don't you have work to do? Get your theory done later, I know you've got other things."

"Yeah… I'll call you later. Bye."

"Bye, sexy."

Desmond smirked as he hung up.

The next time they interacted, it was after Desmond hadn't called for a whole week, and Shaun had gotten worried and called him, something he'd never really had to do. Desmond had quickly explained how busy he was studying for finals, and that he was sorry he hadn't called. He said he'd call later.

And later he did. It was three in the bloody morning and they were both too tired to say much. Desmond apologized again. Finals had rushed up behind him and bit him in the ass, he said. Shaun had no idea.

He left Desmond alone, then. He knew how stressful that time could be, when your grade's riding on this one bloody exam and there's nothing you can do about it if you cock it up. Except take the bloody class again…

Another week later, Desmond called. His first semester was finally over, and grades were in.

"I fuckin' failed English."

Shaun blinked, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is that so."

"It was an easy class. And I failed the final."

"Well, then you'll just have to make sure you don't do that next time, yeah? Desmond, it's not a big deal. Just take it again."

"I got a C- in my theory class. The next class is a lot harder."

"It'll be fine, Desmond. You've got a break now, yes? Use that to calm down. Maybe you can come back and visit for a little bit."

"I'm not gonna make you pay for that… I'll be fine here, I'm sorry. I just—I really thought I did well. And all I did was fuck it up."

"It's all over now. You know what you can do better, so just relax for now."

Desmond was silent. Then he nodded. "Okay. I'll call you tomorrow, I'm really tired."

"Goodnight."

"G'night."

Things were better over winter break, and Desmond took the next semester straight on. Which meant not as much time to fuck around like he and so many others loved to do, but it was what he had to do. And when finals came around, he did well.

"I fuckin' passed Music History! Shit, I am so done with that. I mean, I've got two more classes until I'm done with that subject, but fuckin' shit, I passed. And theory, I finally get it! Fuckin' secondary dominants, I can do those in my sleep."

Shaun smirked on the other end, as he graded papers. His grades were due later that day, and he was doing his best to meet the deadline. He also had no bloody clue what Desmond was talking about. "That's wonderful to hear."

"You don't understand how happy I am that it's over."

Shaun chuckled. "I've been through it all, and through grad school. I think I have an idea."

"Jesus, you make yourself sound so old."

"… I am old."

Desmond chuckled on the other end. "I was kidding. You're not old. You're sexy."

"And I also graduated from high school ten years ago."

"Only because you were sixteen and a friggen genius. Don't even think about it, man."

Shaun rubbed his eyes. "Just tell me you'll come home for summer." Did that sound clingy? Desperate? Maybe the latter. That one was more acceptable.

"I… I can't. I'm really sorry. I fucked up my first semester, so I'm signing up for summer classes. Might get a job, too."

Shaun frowned, slightly disappointed. Of course he would. "I suppose you'll do what you have to…"

"I'm really sorry. I… I'll save my money, and I'll visit next year! Promise. Well, I'll promise once I get a job. There. Good?"

"… Deal. You'd better promise, because I'm really starting to miss you." God, he actually said it. He was way too soft for his reputation's sake.

"Just starting?"

"… Yes. A little. I suppose I can deal for another year, though."

"You've been dying for the past six months, at least. Admit it."

"I have been. Now get on Skype right now you little shit, so I can see your pretty face."

Desmond grinned. "I'll be there in a bit."