Not sure if this headache is from too much coffee. Or not enough.

Tim's used to pulling all-nighters, but there are times when he wishes he would learn to say no to the little inner voice that says just ten more minutes. He fully blames that little voice for the inadvertent all-nighter he pulled on Wednesday and he's still paying for it come Friday.

Kon, the bastard, teases the crap out of him, when he finds out why he'd been up all night.

"Dude, you've got it bad," he comments from his side of the room. He's sprawled out on the bed with notes all over the place from one of his classes. The young man is working on a degree in physical education and sports therapy, so it's not uncommon to see him hang a blown up diagram of the human body on his wall. As a joke, Tim had replaced it once with Da Vinci's the Vitruvian Man to see if his friend would notice.

It took him a week.

"Tell me about it," Tim replies, typing away at his desk, working on homework for his programming class. "What sucks is that I have no idea if he's even into guys."

"Yeah, because that's your problem," Kon says with an arch look. "He's your freaking TA. Your instructor. Pretty sure there are rules against shit like that, Tim."

"I can dream," he retorts defensively. "And December will be here soon enough."

Kon laughs at that. "I hate to break it to you, but it's only half way through September."

"Fuck you."

"No, that's what you want Jason to do to you. C'mon, man, we need to distract you or somethin' this weekend. You're off at 11 tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Tim replies sullenly. He knows that Kon's idea of distracting him is dragging him out to some bar so he can play the gay wingman to pick up girls.

"Plenty of time then before last call. Let's go somewhere where we can both potentially have some fun."

That's new. Tim looks over at his best friend. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. You need to get Jason out of your head. Plenty of fish in the sea and when you're done with that damn class, then you can reel him in." Kon grins broadly.

It's not a bad idea. He highly doubts it's going to be as easy as Kon makes it sound, but what does he have to lose? "Fine," he agrees. "I'll bring a change of clothes tonight and you can pick me up from work."

"It'll be great, Tim. Just wait and see!"

At 10:45, Kon comes marching into the coffee shop. He's dressed for a night out, black jeans and a blue shirt that so snug, Tim's positive he must have busted a seam putting it on. He only breaks that shirt out for one person.

"Cassie's going to be wherever we're going tonight, isn't she?" Tim asks from behind the counter. He'd just finished making a bunch of frappes and has his hands full with the dirty blenders.

"Yeah!" the man replies brightly. "One of these days, man, she's gonna say yes to this!" He gestures to himself. Kon's been chasing after Cassie for the better part of a year. Tim knows she's interested, but his best friend has a reputation for being a flirt and has a wandering eye, so he can't blame her for stringing him along to make sure he's not playing around.

Shaking his head, Tim heads to the back and dumps the empty blenders in the sink to rinse them out. He hears the front door bell ring again, but he's up to his elbows in hot water. "I'll be there in a sec!" he shouts.

Drying his hands off on a paper towel, he returns to the front, only to stop short when he reaches the counter.

Jason's standing there, dressed in a worn leather jacket that's hanging open revealing a black shirt underneath that could rival Kon's blue one.

"Hey, Tim!" he says with that easy smile that still makes his knees turn to jelly. Exposure to it has not given him immunity.

"Hi, Jason," Tim replies quickly, glancing over at the table Kon's sitting and waiting at. His mouth has dropped wide open. "What brings you in tonight?"

The man pushes a plastic bag with something in it towards him. "I promised you dinner. One for each hour you worked on my laptop. Since you were up all night, I'm guessing that's gonna be about seven or eight?"

Tim gapes and Kon's eyes widen as he tries hard not to snicker. "You made me dinner?" he squeaks out. He clears his throat and tries again. "You seriously made me food?"

"Yeah?" Jason says, looking uncertain now. "I said I would. I'm no gourmet chef, but it's gotta be better than the meal plan you're on in the dorms."

Reaching out, he picks up the plastic bag and opens it up, revealing a sealed container. "Wow. You made me food." He looks up again, knowing his eyes are wide in amazement.

"Let me know if you like it, I wasn't sure what you'd eat."

Tim stares some more at the container and Kon finally breaks down, guffawing loud and long. "Dude, you just made a friend for life. Tim'll eat anything."

Jason turns to Kon. "Is that so?" he asks questioningly, obviously wondering who this other guy is. Tim's still too enraptured with his food to care as he opens the lid.

There's mashed potatoes in there. And meatloaf. And green beans. There's even another little container tucked into the side with gravy. His mouth waters.

"Yeah." Kon rises from his seat and walks over, holding out his hand. "I'm Kon, Tim's roommate. You must be the guy who's computer he obsessed over the other night."

Tim starts paying attention to the confrontation going on in front of him. He shoots his best friend a warning look. At least Kon hadn't said that Jason was the guy he's been obsessing over.

Jason's heard enough about Kon over the last two Wednesdays that the name should click right away, even if he hadn't tacked on the part about being his roommate. "Jason," he replies as he accepts Kon's hand, giving it what Tim can tell even from here is a firm shake. "I'm the TA for his English class."

Kon's grin grows sharp and Tim starts wishing he could shoot lasers from his eyes. His friend is a dead man if he says what he knows he's itching to say.

"Do you usually make meals for your students?" he asks.

Jason's smile is full of rough edges. "Only the ones who repair my computer."

Tim can feel a headache brewing. He's not sure if it's from too much coffee earlier or not enough, but it's also not an uncommon phenomenon when dealing with Kon and his attempts to mess with his head. He puts the lid back on the container and glances at the clock.

10:55.

Close enough.

"Jason, I'm about to close, do you want some tea before I lock up?"

The staring contest (pissing contest) between the two large men in front of him stops as Jason breaks his stare-off with Kon and turns his attention back on Tim. "Yeah, that sounds good. Been a long evening and I could use something to unwind."

"You were working your other job tonight?" Tim asks as he pours the hot water.

Jason nods. "Had to call the cops on a bunch of underage kids when they wouldn't leave. That always makes for a long night."

"Fake IDs?" Kon chimes in.

"Yeah," Jason shakes his head. "Not sure where they got 'em, but whoever made them did a craptastic job."

They all share a chuckle over that and Tim slides the cardboard protector over the tall paper cup. He's already put in the usual green tea and mint blend Jason prefers. "No charge," he says as he hands it over.

"Thanks." The man eyes Kon again as he accepts the cup from Tim. "You guys going out tonight?"

"That's the plan," Kon says with a shrug. There's a glint in his eye that sets Tim on edge. "I've got a girl I'm trying to prove something to and Tim just needs a nice guy to take him home and show him a good time."

"Kon," Tim growls warningly, clenching his fists and standing rigid. He's pissed. He's beyond pissed. He's furious. Conner Kent is a dead man.

Jason glances over at him, an unreadable look on his face before he smirks, looking pleased about something. "Well, I'm not planning to go to bed anytime soon, so if you can't find anyone to at least take you home, drop me a text. I'll come pick you up." He reaches out and picks up a pen and a napkin from the counter and writes something down.

He nods at Kon, then walks out of the coffee shop.

Tim stares in awe and amazement at the napkin as he reverently picks it up. On it is Jason's phone number. His actual phone number and not the university assigned one he put in the syllabus for the mailbox he uses for his classes.

"You're welcome," Kon says with a grin. "Don't say I never did anything for you."