A/N: Welcome to chapter eight. Hope you enjoy- please review! Nothing you recognize is mine.


Dave had one foot tucked up under him on the couch and the other extended out in front of him, resting on the coffee table as he balanced a bowl of popcorn on his thigh. His father had taken up residence in his usual large armchair and they were both engrossed in the NCAA football game that was on its way to the second quarter. The doorbell rang and Dave put up a hand, gesturing to his father that he'd answer it. He wiped his salty, buttery hands on his jeans before he reached out and pulled the doorknob, swinging the door open.

"He- llo?" His voice stuttered when he recognized just who was standing on his doorstep.

"Hey," Azimio grunted, looking down at his shoes. "Can we talk?"

Dave looked over his shoulder into the living room, where Paul was watching them with suspicious eyes. "I guess so," Dave agreed. He stepped back, allowing his old friend to come into the house. "Kitchen," he muttered.

The two ambled their way toward the specified room and Dave noted that his father conveniently turned up the volume on the television, granting them an illusion of privacy.
"What?" He began bluntly, not bothering to be any sort of polite.

His questions was answered with a shrug. "Y'know, just... Where you been, Man?" Azimio asked as he sat himself down on one of the barstools.

"Excuse me?"

Azimio hunched his shoulders. "I ain't seen you since the hospital... And then Rick texts me today and says he seen you at Breadstix with your dad and I decided I should-"

"Beat me up?" Dave interrupted sardonically.

"No, man! I just wanted to talk to you, is that so crazy?"

"Um, like you said- the last time you saw me was at the hospital. And we didn't exactly part on friendly terms, so forgive me if yes, I think you're crazy."

"Look, I thought you were dead!" Azimio shouted, jumping to his feet and shoving a finger in Dave's face. "What d'you think that's like, having my mom call me outta class to tell me you're under watch at the hospital 'cuz you were dumb enough to put a fuckin' noose around your neck!"

Dave crammed his hands deep into his pockets, refusing to break eye contact with Azimio as he shouted.

"And then I look at Facebook, with this creepy hope that you at least wrote a message or something, and instead I find everyone calling my best friend a faggot, and I think 'nah, not my friend D.K. I'd have known.' But nope- you say 'it's true, Zim' and what, in supposed to be cool with that?"

"Yes!" Dave erupted. He froze, caught himself, thinking 'respond: don't react.'
He hefted a breath and said much more calmly, "The least you could have been was cool with it. I can't control this, Zim, and I know it was a shock, but how do you think that made me feel? You were my best friend!"

"Man, you know what the bible says about this stuff?"

"Oh do not preach to me about all that. Because you cared so much about what the bible said when you were soliciting blow jobs under the bleachers junior year?"

"That was sophomore year," Azimio muttered.

Dave couldn't help but give a short laugh. Then he sobered. "Why are you even here, Zim?"

Azimio sat back down on the barstool. He kicked his feet up under it, hooking his ankles around the legs in a long-familiar motion. "Where you been, Man?" He asked, just as he had earlier. "You disappeared. No one said they'd seen you, and I thought that-"

Dave couldn't believe it when he heard the slight hitch in Azimio's voice. "I thought maybe you'd done it for real, and nobody'd even told me, 'cuz they thought we wasn't cool."

"Zim, I-" Dave paused. He pulled a kitchen chair around, straddling it backward to face his old friend. "Man, I've been at school. I'm ok- look at me," he said firmly, causing Azimio to pull his head up. "I'm dorming at Bowling Green. It's awesome, Man. I actually made it out of here. I'm not... I'm still alive, Zim."

"Your Facebook stopped updating." "I know, I made a different one. It's got like, six friends, but whatever. I'm being more careful about who I let into my business. Last year I had about 2,000 people on my friends list, you know? And when everything happened, I had these people shouting at me and calling me things and telling me to try again, and I'm looking at them like, 'you don't know me, and you have the guts to say something like that to me? You're fucked up enough that some guy you don't even know... You legit want him dead?' So I didn't even bother to delete it. If they want to call me faggot or whatever else, I don't care. maybe they'll get it out of their system instead of going after someone else."

"I never wanted you dead, Dave."

"You just wanted me straight."

Azimio shook his head. "I just wanted my best friend back," he admitted.

"I didn't leave!" Dave protested, feeling like a cheesy daytime drama. "I mean, I'm at school, so I'm not here, but I was never like, 'oh, better be gay and lose all my friends.' You made the decision to walk away."

"I'm sorry."

"Really?"

"I swear." Azimio said solemnly. "I've never... I don't know how to be friends with a gay dude-"

"You did fine for sixteen years," Dave interrupted bitterly.

"But imma try, a'ight?" Azimio finished firmly.

Dave sighed, putting his head down into his hand. "So what have you been up to?" He asked finally.

"Courses at the community college. It's like fuckin' thirteenth grade."

"Sucks."

"So you're at Bowling Green? What's that like?"

"Pretty nice. The independence is cool."

"So what are you doing back, is this like, Jew holidays or something?"

"No. I needed to see my doctor."

"You good?"

"I'm good." Dave swung one leg awkwardly in the silence. "You wanna watch the game?" He asked finally.

"Sure."

The two made their way back to the living room where the football game still blared and Paul lounged comfortably in his Lay-z-boy. They threw themselves into their respective places on the couch, immediately reaching for a handful of popcorn each, as Azimio greeted Mr. Karofsky.

"Hey, Mr. K," he said.

"Good to see you again, Azimio."

The latter nodded, tossing the popcorn into his mouth.

Dave made himself comfortable again, pulling his leg up underneath himself. "Are we still winning?"


Sunday, November 3rd

After spending the rest of Friday night watching football, and all of Saturday catching up in general, Dave and Azimio were feeling as though there had never been a rift in their friendship, while at the same time tentatively walking on eggshells. Each time they broke up into laughter over a joke or reminder of something from the past, the two sobered quickly, as though they weren't entitled to the same free spirit they had had before Dave's unintentional coming out.
As it was, the two were now sharing a semi-awkward silence as they drove along the highway back toward Bowling Green. Paul had woken up that morning with a migraine, leaving Dave to wonder how he was supposed to get back to campus without his father for a ride, when he recalled the "congratulations on graduating" car that Azimio mentioned. Before he knew it, he was dialing a long-remembered number and asking for a favor.

"What exit is it?" Azimio asked again.

"Two after this one. There's a sign."

"So, what's your roommate like."

"He's cool. You'd probably get along. We should grab dinner or something before you have to drive back. And let me go to the bank or something, I want to give you gas money."

Azimio shook his head negatively, then looked over his shoulder to merge into the next lane. "Don't worry about it. If I hadn't been an idiot I'd have probably been driving you around all summer anyway, so this just makes up for it."

"I'll cover dinner then or something."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. So you're roommate's cool with, you know, gay stuff then?"

"It's new to him," Dave admitted. "I came out to him the first day and he said he'd never met anyone gay, but he's been awesome." His phone buzzed. Unknowingly, he smiled, and immediately began texting back.

"That your dad?"

"No, Caleb."

"Your roommate?"

Dave looked up. "No. Nico's my roommate. Caleb's a friend of mine. I'm going to ask him if he wants to get dinner with us. Exit here."

"Sure."

Several turns later found them rolling into the Bowling Green Campus. Dave gave directions until they pulled into a parking lot just outside of his residence hall.

"Nice place," Azimio commented.

"Yeah I love it," Dave answered, grabbing his bag from the backseat and slamming the car doors closed. They headed up the sidewalk toward the entrance. "You going to transfer somewhere like this after thirteenth grade?"

"I dunno. I don't want to stay in Lima, but stuff like this is expensive."

"Still working at the Kroger?"

"Yeah. I swear I get like ten papercuts a day 'cuz I'm bagging groceries for little old ladies too fast."

"Ah, sacrifice. You should apply for some scholarships though. Nico said he qualified for a bunch just because he's African American."

"I'll think about it."

Dave swiped his school ID at the door, waiting for the click that signified the unlock. "I figured we'd hang with Nico for a bit, then meet Caleb in about half an hour and we can go to Cracker Barrel."

"Sounds good."

The elevator pinged and the two stepped out on the third floor. "I thought college was like, mad loud?" Azimio asked.

"Well, it's Sunday afternoon, so everyone's basically finishing all the work that they put off on Friday and Saturday. Besides, it's not like people actually party in the halls. It'd be way to easy to get caught."

"I feel like I'm in a hotel."

Dave led the way to his room and smoothly unlocked and open the door.

"'Sup, Nico?" He greeted, gesturing Azimio to follow me. "My buddy Azimio drove me up here and we're gunna go to Cracker Barrel. Want to come?"

Nico swung his legs down off his bed, pulling his ever-present headphones down around his neck. He stood up to shake hands with Azimio. "Awesome. Hey, you feeling better, Man?" he asked David.

"Yeah, I'm glad I went back for the weekend. Good to be back though." Dave's phone buzzed again and he looked down, typing away. Meanwhile, Azimio caught sight of one of the posters hanging on Nico's side of the room and the two began a conversation about the shared interest.

"Hey Zim, you good here for a bit? I'm going to go meet Caleb and then we'll head back here before we get dinner."

"Yeah, we'll just talk about you while you're gone," Azimio answered.

"Considering you just met a moment ago, I have no doubt that that is exactly what will happen. Just be nice."

"You be nice, Karofsky. Tell Caleb I said 'hey!'" Nico called after him as he left the room.

Dave left the residence hall, keeping his hands warm under his arms as he crossed the courtyard and made his way to Caleb's building. He waited awkwardly in the breezeway for his friend to let him in. Not long later, Caleb appeared, jogging to the door to open it. Dave couldn't help it- as soon as the door was open he swept Caleb up into a hug, burying one hand into the soft brown hair and pulling his other arm around Caleb's waist.

"Hey," they both greeted each other.

"How are you?" Caleb asked seriously as he took a step back. He looked Dave over with a critical eye and led the way to his own dorm room.

"I'm good," Dave answered. "I got some changes made to my medication and had a really useful chat with my doctor on Friday. There's some important stuff that I want to talk to you about, but I thought maybe we could do that later, after we grab dinner with Nico and Zim."

"What time did you want to go?"

"Half an hour?"

They came to Caleb's room and walked in. There was no other roommate present. "I missed you this weekend," Caleb hedged.

Dave felt something hot sink into his lower belly. He grinned. "Me too," he answered.

"Are you tired at all from the drive here?"

"Meh, car-groggy," Dave shrugged. "Not like, exhausted or anything."

Caleb bit his lip. He kicked off his shoes and rolled onto his bed, where he settled himself on his side. "So what'd you do all weekend?" He shuffled backward, leaving a space open on the bed as a purposeful hint. Dave caught on. Shucking his own shoes and pulling off his jacket, he laid down beside Caleb, turning them over into the position that they had been in just a few days previously. He folded his right arm up under his head so that he rested on the fold of his forearm and elbow. Caleb tucked comfortably back against his torso.

"Um, spent a lot of Friday with Dr. Bevotti, got new meds and had lunch out with my dad. You'll notice I'm already less fidgety," he said proudly. "Friday night was weird because Zim showed up at my house suddenly wanting to be my friend again, which is cool, but weird and whatever. I'm working on it. Watched a lot of football with dad, but he was sick this morning. What did you do around here?"

"Well," Caleb began, rolling over in Dave's grasp so they were now nearly nose to nose, "First I worried about you because you know, that whole ordeal was concerning, and I'm looking forward to talking to you about it. Friday was class and that sucked, nothing really happened, and basically just a reminder to work on our essay due for midterms in Intro to Education. Saturday I went to the gym for a while because we always go skating, but I didn't want to skate alone and look like an idiot so I just did some cardio. I saw some flyers for a lacrosse club that wants to meet indoors during the winter and put my name on the list. And, well, today's today. You're back."

Dave pulled his courage together and lowered his head infinitesimally to press a kiss to the corner of Caleb's mouth, closer to the cheek than a proper kiss. "I'm glad I'm back."


Their waitress dropped their drinks off at the table, agreeing to come back soon to take their dinner order.

"So let me get this right. You don't like football or hockey? Why are you even friends with Dave?" Azimio asked Caleb from across the table. Dave felt the back of Caleb's knuckles draw casually against the outside of his thigh under the table. He subtly dropped his own hand from where it rested on the table and allowed it to sit on the bench between them. Soon enough he felt his fingers interlace with Caleb's. "Hey, just because we spent our entire childhood on those two topics doesn't mean I'm not capable of anything else," Dave defended.

Azimio shook his head, never having spent time with a guy his own age that didn't like at least one if not both of his favorite sports. "You do play something though, right?"

"I'm an impressive lacrosse player if I do say so myself. Oh, and in middle school I joined the soccer team, but not because I was actually into it."

"Why bother then?" Nico inquired.

Caleb shrugged. "Coach Ken was hot," he answered nonchalantly.

In sync, Dave and Azimio coughed into their drinks.

Nico, however, nodded appreciatively and reached over to offer a fistbump. "Bro, I took swimming in high school just because the instructor was at least a Double D. Smelling like chlorine all semester was totally worth it."

Azimio made a slashing motion in the air with his hands. "Hang on hang on I'm missing something," he interrupted, looking at Caleb closely. "You're homo too?"

Dave kicked his old friend under the table, hard.

"Ow, Man, fuck you!"

"No, Zim, fuck you. You suck."

Nico watched the waitress approach their table and shook his head at her, directing her elsewhere. She smoothly changed course with a wink as the argument swelled.

"Look, I'm just saying why am I so bad at figuring out-"

Caleb cut into the argument. "First of all, yes I am gay and I'd like to take this opportunity to ask that you don't refer to people as 'homo' unless you follow it immediately with 'sexual,' and only intend it in a descriptive- not offensive, manner. Second, Maybe you couldn't tell that Dave or I is gay because we're really just regular guys. Yeah, some men are more effeminate or fit the stereotype more accurately, but just because neither of us lisps or does ballet doesn't make us any less gay. You don't have to go through life categorizing every guy you meet- it shouldn't matter."

Azimio looked properly chastised while equal parts curious and confused. "Sorry," he said with emphasis. Suddenly his eyes widened, almost comically. "Bro, are you two dating?" he exclaimed, noting their adjacent hands hidden beneath the table. "You holdin' hands with a dude in the Cracker Barrel?"

Dave heard the two parts shock and one part teasing in Azimio's tone and bit his lips, feeling his ears turn red. "Nah, we're not dating," he said quietly.

"Officially," Caleb added. "Not dating officially."

Azimio made a sour face.

"Um, you ok?" Dave asked hesitantly. Forty-eight hours into their friendship reunion wasn't exactly the ideal time to introduce a sort-of-almost boyfriend. Azimio held up his menu, said "'scuse us," and effectively blocked Nico and Caleb from a conversation between himself and David.

"D.K. are you fucking around?" he said in a hush. Clearly the brotherhood involved with scoring a relationship wasn't tarnished over the course of the past few months.

"No! We're just hanging out and we like each other," Dave answered just as quietly.

Azimio suddenly looked bored. "Are you eight years old?"

"What? No."

"Then why aren't you dating him 'officially?'" he asked, using airquotes.

"He doesn't know everything about what happened last year," Dave admitted. "I'm gunna talk to him about it tonight."

"Oh. Ok."

"Excuse us, Ladies," Nico interrupted, and Azimio bristled. They lowered the menu partition and found the waitress watching them expectantly. With that, discussion of sexualities and relationships ceased for the remainder of their time at Cracker Barrel.

At a point, Dave realized that his hand, still joined with Caleb's, was suddenly resting atop the table instead of below it. He was glad for his left-handedness, which made eating one handed the furthest thing from problematic. He knew, in the rational half of his brain, that Azimio was not suddenly fine with homosexuality, but his old friends was remaining good on his word and trying. Conversation flowed with ease throughout their dinner; together, they made quite the quartet. Dave could see himself hanging out like this often. He felt happy.


Note:
Hey everyone :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter will be a time jump forward by a few weeks. Likely cerca Thanksgiving.

On a personal note, my mom has been in and out of the hospital the last couple weeks. Continued thoughts and prayers for her recovery are appreciated. We all hate cancer.

Thanks for reading, please review!

Love,
darkestAngel13