Sunday morning, Jude stretched out in bed, playing with his phone. He hadn't heard from Connor since his 'home safe' text yesterday, and he was starting to worry. He was hoping, when his phone vibrated, that it would be his boyfriend. Instead, it was his best friend, and Jude answered it immediately.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Play along," Taylor instructed.

"Okay."

"Let's say. Hypothetically, you banged a girl."

"Definitely hypothetical."

Taylor ignored him. "Let's say that you and this girl had been banging for most of the summer. And then you went back to Nevada for school and you two stopped talking. Would you want that girl to call you and tell you she'd gotten an abortion after it already happened?"

"Oh."

"Daria thinks I should call him. I don't think I should. There's no point in torturing him now. I just thought I'd try and get a boy's perspective."

"And you don't know any straight boys."

"You're still a guy! You call yourself a guy! You have the guy perspective! I don't know. Let's say Dylan called and said he aborted your guys' ass-baby!"

"Impossible! Virgin, Taylor!"

"You know what I mean," she whined. "Jude, just answer the question. It's important."

"I know, I'm sorry." Jude took a deep breath, trying to think about it. "Well, part of me wants to say that I'd definitely want to know. But a bigger part of me says that I wouldn't. Because, at that point, there would be nothing I could do. Not even be with you as you made the decision. It would be nothing but torturing me at that point. I don't know, Taylor. I don't think I would want to know."

"That's what I thought. If I had been more on the fence about the decision or if I was thinking I could carry it if he wanted it, I would have told him. But I couldn't stand the thought of being pregnant and giving birth. I don't think that makes me a horrible person."

"It doesn't," Jude said quickly. "No, of course it doesn't. You need to look out for yourself, Taylor. You made the right decision for you. That's what matters."

Taylor sighed. "I made the right decision. I know I did. I just … Am I selfish, Jude? I didn't even think about calling the father. I can't make that up to anyone."

"No," Jude agreed. "You can't. I mean, at this point, there's nothing he can do. There's no baby. You haven't talked to him since … late August?"

"Yeah. I didn't even know I was pregnant the last time that we spoke."

"I say don't tell him. I can see why Daria would say tell him –"

"So can I," Taylor interrupted, "but I see more reasons not to tell him."

"Me too," Jude finished simply.

They were quiet for a moment, and Jude put his hand behind his head. He'd sit here with her for as long she needed, even if they didn't speak. He listened to her shuffle around.

"Can I come see you this weekend?" Taylor asked.

"Sure. It's my turn to drive down, though."

"I want to get out of here. And after Halloween, I owe you a nice visit."

"I want you here if you want to be here," Jude said. "Do you want me to drive down and get you?"

"Let's not push the car any further than we have to," Taylor mused. "I can bus again. I actually don't hate getting to sit there and listen to music. It could be a lot worse."

"If you're sure," Jude said.

"I am. I'll text you later with details, okay?"

"Sure you need to go?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Jude. For everything. I love you."

"I love you too, Taylor."

She hung up on him, and Jude dragged himself out of bed. He walked into the kitchen and turned on his coffee maker, hopping up onto the counter and grabbing a muffin to eat. He was running out of muffins already, and he wondered what Connor would say if he messaged him and asked him if he wanted to have a baking date. He'd see through Jude's guise and know his ulterior motive immediately, but Jude thought Connor might do it anyway. Connor liked baking and Connor liked spending time with him.

Jude played with his phone again and he even went as far as opening up his messages to Connor, but he locked his phone again. Connor needed space; Jude could tell that. Yesterday morning had to be stressful and Jude knew that it might take Connor time to calm down from it. Jude could give him that. Jude wasn't going to be like Connor's ex-boyfriend. He wasn't going to text Connor and be overbearing, even though he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend.

He resigned himself to a lazy day at home and carried his muffin and coffee over to his couch. He flopped down and turned on Netflix. He was still lazily making his way through The X-Files and he could spend the day with Mulder and Scully. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the show yet – he liked the acting, but he didn't know how seriously he was supposed to take the conspiracy theories that Mulder had. Jude had a vague belief in aliens – Earth couldn't be the only planet with life – but he really didn't think aliens were like how the 90s had portrayed them.

He lazed on his couch for hours, making a sandwich for lunch around two. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he should shower – his hair was getting gross – when his phone vibrated. He picked it up and smiled. Connor. It was amazing how his heart felt like it was lighting up when he saw his boyfriend had texted him. It was only November, but Jude was becoming aware of just how deep he was getting already. He knew he had to keep that to himself, perhaps confiding in Taylor or his mothers. He knew it would scare Connor.

Connor: are you busy?

Jude: no

Connor: would you like to do readings? At the library

Jude: I'd love to. When?

Connor: There's a room for six

Jude: I'll see you there!

He nearly leapt from the couch and raced to the shower. He was going to have to be quick if he was going to be on time, and he didn't want to be late to meet Connor. Connor would forgive him if he was, but Jude knew that Connor always thought he had to forgive. And while being late was something very simple, Jude still didn't want to do that to Connor. He rushed through his shower, although he took some time with his shampoo. He hated the feeling of greasy or itchy hair. It didn't take long for him to towel himself dry and put on clean jeans. He found himself staring at his t-shirts, wondering what he should wear. It was a stupid thing to wonder; all Connor had ever seen him in was his bright, graphic tees. And Connor had never said a word about his clothing. Jude pulled on a blue shirt. It was his favourite colour.

He went to grab a sweater from his dresser drawer, and he found himself lingering over the one Connor had let him borrow. Jude hadn't thought of giving it back yet, but Connor hadn't asked for it either. Jude didn't really want to give it back. He would when Connor asked. He grabbed one of his Anchor Beach sweaters instead, and then he grabbed his keys off the top of the top of his dresser and bounced out the door.

He ended up beating Connor to the library. He sat on the front steps and fiddled with his phone. He was nearly ten minutes early. He could have texted his boyfriend, but he knew Connor wouldn't be long. Connor was never late. Jude found himself wondering about his boyfriend's former life. Though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know, he found himself contemplating about why Connor felt the compulsion of being perfectly on time and what it had taken to get him to the point where Connor felt like he had to act the way that he did. He wondered who Connor would be if he'd never met his ex-boyfriend.

Jude wondered if Connor would like him, had things been different and they were in a different world.

As he spotted Connor, he decided that it didn't matter. They were here, now, and they were together. That was enough. It was more than enough to make Jude happy.

"Oh, hi!" Connor said. "Am I late? I'm sorry."

"You're not late." Jude stood and held out his hand, but Connor stepped backward.

"I … Can … It's not that I don't want to touch you. Yesterday was hard. It made me tired."

"That's okay, baby. I understand. Want to go in?"

Connor nodded.

"Can I ask what your dad said?"

Connor summed up his morning yesterday. "I talked to him again before I went to bed. He said he doesn't want me to feel like I have to call him and talk to him every night. But that's what I'm used to. So, I don't know what to say to him about that. I understand when he says that I'm an adult and that I can make my own decisions, but I really don't feel like I can. It's easier for me to listen and follow someone else's lead."

"I think you're a lot more than you give yourself credit for," Jude said.

Connor unlocked the door and held it open for him. Jude stepped inside, turning on the light and dropping his bag onto the table. Connor gingerly took a seat across from him, and, when Jude sat, he was careful to fold his legs under his chair. Jude didn't want to accidentally brush against him.

"How was your shift?"

"It was good. The muffins you baked got me through. And I talked to Taylor today. She's going to come down again next weekend. I hope that she feels better here than there." Jude shrugged. "What do I know? I never know how to help people."

"Oh. I don't think that's true. I feel better when you're just around. That has to count for something, right?"

"It does if you think it does."

Connor stared down at the table top. "I think it does."

Jude wished he could reach across the table and take Connor's hand. Instead, he cracked open his bag and pulled out The Odyssey. He cheered, "It's the last week of this! Also, I need to start thinking about that project. We're allowed to have partners, right? Want to be my partner?"

"Oh … I, um, I … finished it already," Connor whispered. "But we can do something else. We could –"

"Baby, I'm not going to make you redo something. I can figure something out on my own. What did you do?"

"I just wrote an essay comparing the story of Antigone to Romeo and Juliet. There's some similarities. I think it's possible that Shakespeare found some inspiration there. I know the point of the project was creativity, so, after I wrote the essay, I, um, made this … I guess it's just like a scrapbook or something and I have Antigone quotes, references, and pictures from theatre productions on one side and the same thing for Romeo and Juliet on the other."

"Wow. That's far beyond what I'm going to come up with. Ugh. I just need an easy topic. I don't want to do more work than that." He groaned.

"You could do something about archetypes. Kroger talked about that in one of the first lectures."

"Oh, yeah. I remember." Jude tapped his fingers on the table. "I'll go over the notes again, but there was a lot of stuff about that, right?"

Connor nodded.

"Because all I need is a lot of material. I can shape something out of that," Jude mused.

"Archetypes would give you what you want," Connor said. "If … If … I mean, y-you don't have to listen to me. You shouldn't. I'm not smart."

"Oh, baby, you're smart. You study, you get good grades, and that's just talking about school."

Connor shrugged, and Jude felt helpless. Connor was brilliant and wonderful, but he didn't know how to convince Connor of that. He couldn't make Connor believe him, but Jude wished he could. For Connor to be confident and happy with himself, would be an amazing gift. Jude knew. Jude had struggled; Jude had been there. Jude had to come to terms with the fact that, while he didn't have the most attractive face or body in the world, it didn't mean he was unattractive or that he was any less because of his face and features. He still had other things to offer the world and there was plenty else about him.

"I, um, had a thought."

"I'd love to hear it," Jude said.

"I … said I wanted to plan a date for us and I found something I wanted to do with you. I was going to suggest next weekend b-but Taylor is going to be here. B-but it's over next weekend. So, we'd have to go tonight."

"I'd love to do something tonight," Jude said. "If you were up to it."

"We don't have to touch to like being together, right? We can be good without that?"

"Of course we can."

Connor took a deep breath. "You're strange."

"Maybe. Where did you want to go?"

"There's a night market," Connor whispered. "I thought … thought you might want to … go. Unless you've been there before."

"I went once, at the very beginning of freshman year," Jude said. "It was a long time ago. And I'd love to go again with you."

"It's open until eleven tonight," Connor said. "We can go before or after the readings. Whatever you prefer."

"I know it'll drive you nuts if we don't do this. And I know you'll stay up all night to get it done for tomorrow's lecture. You're allowed to tell me what you want."

"Not today," Connor whispered. "That's not a thing that I know how to know today."

"I understand," Jude said. "Let's read. I don't think we have too much to do. Not a million pages, anyway."

"We never have a million – Oh." Connor had a small smile on his face. "No, not a million pages. It's only … twenty-three."

"That's a lot. The print is tiny!"

"It's really … not." Connor looked up at him. "Are you being dramatic on purpose?"

"A little," Jude said, pinching two fingers together. "Why? Am I annoying you?"

"No. It's a little funny. I'd like to read so we can go, if that's okay."

"Yeah, absolutely! Let's do this!"

Connor opened up his laptop, and he typed notes as they went. Jude was more the sort to scribble half-finished thoughts on sticky notes and then jam them into his book. They would read lines to each other, talk about things that confused them, and discuss the differences in the Ancient Greek and modern day English. Jude was trying not to talk too much this study session, though. He wanted to get through the reading because he wanted to take Connor out somewhere. He was worried about how Connor would deal with the crowded night market if he didn't even want Jude to brush up against him, but he hoped it was less crowded because it was a Sunday night.

Finally, Connor shut his book. "Odysseus was a sad character."

"Give me a sec," Jude said, and he rushed through the last couple pages. "Agreed. Sad character."

"I don't think I'm going to take another class like this. I like it, but I don't like it that much."

"Me either, to be honest. But it's been interesting. And it didn't take that much effort to pass, which is why I took the class. And I got to meet you, which was an unexpected bonus."

Connor smiled.

"Want to go check out the night market?"

"Yeah, I do."

Connor followed Jude out of the study room and to the parking lot where he'd left Gerald. He buckled himself in and waited until Jude was on the road before he tried to speak.

"Is it usually crowded? If … if you remember."

"Yeah, it was busy. Is that something you're worried about?"

Connor rubbed at his arms, and the movement caught Jude's eye. "It's not like I can wear a blanket in public."

He was already wearing long sleeves. He was wearing a black t-shirt under a blue and green plaid button up today. As usual, the sleeves were tightly buttoned around his wrists, while the front of his button up hung open.

"No," Jude had to agree. "You can't. You can wear a giant sweater, though."

"I didn't bring a sweater," Connor replied.

But Jude had. "There's one in the backseat you're welcome to."

"But you brought it for you."

"It's always good to keep a spare sweater in the back. You know, if anyone needs it."

"You're only in a t-shirt …"

"And I promise, if I get cold, I'll steal it back from you."

"Thank you." Connor reached into the back and pulled the sweatshirt into his lap. He spread it and read the name off the front.

"Yeah, my old school. My mom is still a vice-principal there. She keeps saying she'll retire after one more year, but she likes it, so I don't know if she ever will."

"I liked your moms."

"You keep saying," Jude said teasingly. "I'm starting to think you like them more than me."

"Oh!" Connor exclaimed. "Maybe."

Jude glanced over at his boyfriend, but had to refocus on the road. Connor said most everything in the same tone of voice, and so, Jude had to say, "I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I am. I think I'd need to meet them again before I could say that."

Jude laughed. "So you think you could like my moms more than me?"

"No, I don't think I could," Connor replied seriously. "But I don't think I've ever felt like this before about someone. You're more than just a …. a crush. And with him, I was in love with him so quickly. I never had the dating someone I like stage. Because I moved in with him. And it wasn't like we went out together. I'm sorry. I'm rambling."

"It's okay, Connor. It really is okay."

"It has to bother you that I talk about him."

"No. I mean, I don't get jealous or anything like that, if that's what you're thinking. Baby, I know you need to let it out and I'm glad that you trust me enough to do that with me. It only bothers me in that I hate that it happened to you. You really didn't deserve it, and I'm sorry you went through it."

Connor murmured something that sounded like 'didn't I?', but Jude didn't answer, because he wasn't sure that was what Connor had said and Connor really hadn't been talking to him.

"You're amazing, Connor."

"You are, Jude," Connor whispered.

Jude pulled into the field next to the night market and turned off Gerald. "Let's go be amazing together."

Connor pulled Jude's hoodie over his head. The sleeves were long on him, and Jude thought it was adorable how he had to push them up over his wrists to free his hands. Jude wanted to lean across the console and kiss him; Jude wanted to reach over and follow Connor's hands into the depths of the sleeves just so that he could hold him. He knew he couldn't. He wouldn't disrespect Connor like that, but Jude wanted to cuddle and hold him – he liked doing that – and it wasn't a personality trait that he was about to lose. He could be patient. Connor was extraordinarily affectionate most times, more than Jude could expect from him anyway.

"I like this," Connor said. "It's comfy. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Jude and Connor headed toward the night market, where there were lots of stalls and vendors set up in rows. The first one they passed was a sock stall, and Connor paused, picking up a long pair of dark blue socks covered in bright yellow rubber ducks. He held them up to Jude, eyeing him critically.

"Do you think I'd look good in them?" Jude asked. "I think they'd go to my knees, at least."

"I think you'd look good in a lot," Connor said. "But I'm having trouble picturing you in rubber duck socks."

"Does the knee high look turn you on?" Jude asked.

"Mmm." Connor put the socks back. "Not really. I … I, um, don't like the foot thing. I mean, I never …. Or it never, uh, did anything. Um. You?"

"No. It never did anything for me either." Jude realized he'd broken another rule. "I'm sorry for bringing up the sex thing."

Connor shrugged. "It's a better question than some. Did you eat supper?"

"No, I didn't. What about you? Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm. Well, what are you in the mood for?"

"Whatever you want," Connor said.

"Oh. I know! Let's get some hurricane fries!"

Connor stared blankly at him.

"Just tell me you trust me, baby."

"I … I trust you," Connor said.

"Let's go fry hunting!"

"I don't think fries are something you have to hunt."

"Have you ever seen a potato in the wild?" Jude asked.

Connor laughed. The smile stayed on his face as they started to walk further into the market. The stalls in the middle were more crowded than the ones around the middle and Connor pressed closer to Jude as they walked. Jude's hand twitched and he almost reached for Connor's, but he pulled himself back in. Connor would hold his hand when Connor was ready. They finally found the stall for the hurricane fries, which had a decently long line, but Jude was willing to wait for them. The hurricane fries were round and on a long stick. They could also be twirled in flavouring, and Jude's mouth watered at the thought of the BBQ flavoured ones.

"They look weird," Connor commented, reading the menu. Then, his nose wrinkled. "Cinnamon? On fries?"

Jude could have laughed at the concerned look on his face.

"Maybe some people really do have bigger problems than I do."

That time, Jude couldn't help but nearly double over, giggles escaping him every time he even attempted to breathe. He managed to whimper out, "I don't even know why it's so funny. But you're so funny."

"I'm serious!" Connor protested. "What kind of person puts cinnamon on fries?"

"I dare you to try it."

Connor made an indecisive noise.

"I'll try it with you."

"I don't see why we should both lose our taste buds."

"Why are you so hateful toward cinnamon fries?"

"I'm not allowed to be grossed out?" Connor asked. "I do sometimes have strong feelings about things."

"Of course, for both. It's just kind of funny."

Connor wrinkled his nose at Jude again, and Jude's heart skipped a beat. Connor was just amazing. He was attractive and amazing and funny and wonderful and Jude wondered how he'd gone nearly twenty-one years ignorant of his existence. Jude couldn't imagine not knowing Connor now.

Connor stepped up to the worker and ordered a sour cream and onion stick of fries. When he was done, Jude ordered his usual BBQ flavour and then he ordered a cinnamon one. He paid and then he stood next to Connor to wait. Connor stared at him for a moment, and then he tucked his nose under the collar of Jude's hoodie.

"You don't have to try it."

"Why would you buy it," Connor asked, "if you weren't going to make me try it?"

"Because you made me curious." Jude shrugged. "I'm not going to force you to eat something."

Connor dropped the hoodie away from his mouth. "That's something I'm not used to. I was in charge of the food. So I got to pick. I mean, as long as I used mushrooms a lot, he was happy."

Jude wasn't sure what to say to that, but, luckily, he didn't have to be awkward long. A worker leant over and handed Connor his fries. Connor held it by the base awkwardly and studied it.

"How do you eat this?" he asked. "Do you eat it like corn on the cob? I feel like I'd stab someone walking by if I did."

"There's picnic tables over that way … Or maybe that way. We'll find it. I won't let you stab someone."

"I don't want to stab anyone."

"You know," Jude mused, "I feel like that's something I should have known about you before now."

Connor ducked his nose under the edge of the hoodie again. Jude loved how Connor looked in his hoodie, even more than he liked how Connor looked in his pyjamas. Something about Connor wearing his clothes made him happy. Jude could have just stared at him, but the stall worker was holding his fries out, and Jude had to take his order.

"Can you grab napkins, baby? My hands are full."

Connor grabbed some from the stall and put them in the hoodie pocket, and then they set off toward where Jude thought the picnic tables were. Luck was on his side, and they managed to find an empty picnic table without too much trouble. He and Connor sat across the table from one another, and Connor started staring at his fries really critically. Connor looked at the end of his thin wooden stick and bit the first round fry off the top of the skewer.

"What do you think?"

"You still haven't told me how to eat it."

"I usually pull them off. I guess you could eat them off, but it's weird to hold."

Connor nodded, and he stared at the cinnamon stack of fries that Jude was holding. Then, he shook his head.

"Hey, Connor?"

"What?"

The moment Connor looked up, Jude at the top cinnamon fry off the top of the stick. Connor cringed, but he didn't look away. Jude slowly savoured the taste; he hadn't thought it would taste good, really, but it didn't taste like what he was expecting. The cinnamon made him think it would taste like a pastry, but there was enough salt on the fries to remind him of what he was eating. He decided he liked it and used his teeth to pull off the second ring of fries, since his other hand was tightly clinging to his BBQ fries.

"What's it taste like?"

"Cinnamon. With a bit of salt. I kinda like it."

"Salty cinnamon," Connor said flatly.

"Yeah. I know it sounds weird, but I kind of like it. Do you want to try my BBQ one?"

"You haven't tried it yet," Connor said softly.

"I know what it tastes like. You can if you want."

"T-t-trade?" Connor proposed.

"You'll have to feed me."

Connor pulled one of his fries free and he held it across the table. Jude leant and took the fry out of Connor's hold with his teeth, careful not to awkwardly lick Connor's fingers. He offered Connor the BBQ stick of fries while he went back to gnawing on the cinnamon flavoured fries. Connor made a face at him.

"We can't all be dignified."

"That's not why I'm grossed out."

"Is it all cinnamon you've got a problem with?"

"It's just cinnamon on fries. Why, Jude, why? There's no good reason. There's no need for that."

"Seriously, baby, such hatred."

"I like the barbeque ones," Connor said.

"I like you."

Connor ducked his head, his cheeks going bright red. "But … why, Jude?"

"Because you're smart and sexy and funny and I could talk to you for hours and not get bored or sit next to you and not have to say a word and have it be okay and you cook and you're sweet and compassionate and I … like you. I can't put all of it into words, baby, and I'm sorry, because I know you'd like me to."

Connor pulled another fry off his stick, He ate it slowly. He didn't seem like he was getting ready to say anything, and so Jude asked what he was thinking. Connor ate another fry, and the he met Jude's eyes.

"I just don't understand. I don't know if I ever will." Connor toyed with the hoodie string, looking down. "I don't want to lose … you. How we are. I … I like it and I'm worried I'm going to keep breaking down and you're going to … get sick of it," he whispered.

"Connor, I know what I'm signing up for. I know that it's not going to be easy. I know we haven't known each other that long, but I think we've known each other long enough for me to understand or, at least, to start understanding who you are and what your life is like. I want to be here for you. I'm not going to get sick of you. I mean, no one can know how long we'll be in each other's lives for but I hope that we're around for a while. I'm not going to wake up one day and text you and tell you that I want nothing to do with you. I promise. I hope you can trust it."

Connor stared at him.

"Please, say something."

Connor leant his elbows on the picnic table and Jude echoed his position. Connor reached over and he slid one of the cinnamon fries off Jude's stick and ate it. Jude watched his face carefully, but Connor didn't give anything away.

"Why try it?" Jude asked.

"Because you told me it was good and I trust you."

"Did you like it?"

"Hated it," Connor said. "I don't understand why people put cinnamon on fries."

Jude shook his head, and Connor reached out again, putting his fingers against Jude's bare wrist.

"I trust you," he repeated.

Jude felt himself go warm. Connor was so strange and so all over the place, but Jude wouldn't have him any other way. He would rather sit with Connor and help him through a difficult place over and over again than look for someone who was 'easy' to be with. Connor went back to picking at his own fries, and Jude watched him. Even his movements seemed demure and soft, like he was trying not to be noticed. But Jude noticed; Jude wanted to notice. Connor was careful not to pull at the fries with his thick fingers, not even wanting to rip the potatoes. He finished before Jude did, and he turned to face him. His eyes seemed dark against the night sky, and Jude just really loved his eyes.

Jude quickly finished the rest of his fries. "Want to go back to looking around?"

Connor nodded. They stood from the picnic table and dumped their garbage. As they were starting into the thick of the market again, Jude felt Connor's hand tuck into his own, the thick edge of the hoodie sleeve caught between their palms. Jude squeezed Connor's fingers and Connor whispered, "I want to."

Jude was grinning as they walked through the stalls. There wasn't much to capture their interests in way of purchases, but they played with stuffed animals and looked at cell phone cases. It was nice just to wander around, searching their way through the vendors. There were a few booths of artists and posters, and Connor wandered around them.

"Do you even have wall space?" Jude teased.

"Well … there's the back of my door."

Jude laughed. They were to the last row of stalls and they came across a little florist. Most of their plants were hanging from glass bulbs, and they looked really pretty. Jude loved the one with the roses inside, but he had a suspicion that they probably wouldn't last long. Connor had circled around to the far side of the set up, and when Jude walked over, Connor was staring at a cactus display. Jude laughed a little to himself, but, like he did with most things about Connor, he found his little cactus problem cute.

"I don't need another one," Connor said when Jude got close.

"Hmm. You sure?"

"Mostly," Connor mused.

Jude picked up one of them – it was tall and skinny, with two small branches, like most cartoon cactuses looked. There was also a small bud near its head, which looked like it might turn into a flower. "What do you think of this one?"

"I like it."

"Then, I'll get it for you."

"Jude, I can't let you!"

"It's a seven dollar cactus, baby."

Connor stared at him, clutching his fingers together anxiously.

"Make you a deal."

"D-d-deal?"

"You take the cactus and I'll name the cactus."

"That … That's not much of a deal for you."

"I feel bad for your cactuses. All nameless like that."

"Is … is that all you'd want?"

"Yeah, of course. So, do we have a deal?"

Connor hesitated, but then he nodded. "Thank you, Jude."

Jude paid for the cactus and he went to hand it to Connor, but Connor shook his head.

"You need to name it first. That was the deal."

Jude held the small green cactus up to eye level. Then, he held it out to Connor again. "Meet Pokey."

"Pokey?" Connor repeated.

"I'm a psych major, not a creative writing major. Not sure what you expected of me."

Connor took the cactus from Jude and held it protectively. "Pokey."

"Your other ones are going to get jealous," Jude said. "You'll have to name them all."

"Oh. Well … I c-c-could just wait until y-y-you m-meet them. Y-y-you c-c-could d-do it." Connor bit down on his lip. "That way they won't get jealous of Pokey being named by someone else."

"You think I'd meet them?"

Connor hadn't even let Jude inside of his room to get a sweater. Jude knew that Connor liked his space and he understood how space could become sacred, especially to someone who had been abused. He didn't have any expectations of ever being let inside of Connor's dorm room. He didn't need to be either; he and Connor could happily spend time at his place or going out together. But Jude liked the fact that Connor didn't hate the thought of Jude being in his space.

"I mean, not like t-t-tonight or anything. B-b-but y-y-you've never done anything to hurt me. I don't think you would. S-s-s-o, y-yeah, someday. I think. If we … this … doesn't ch-ch-change."

"Only for the better. Ready to walk again?"

Connor nodded. He didn't take Jude's hand again. He kept both of his hands wrapped around the pot of the cactus. They finished their lap around the night market, and Jude asked Connor what he thought.

"I liked it. Lots to look at." Connor took a deep breath. "I just like getting out of my room and your apartment, sometimes. I like … that we go places. Even if sometimes it gets overwhelming."

"I'll keep an eye out for places to go," Jude said. "We can always do something."

Connor nodded. "What time is it?"

"It is … almost ten," Jude said. "What are you thinking? Ready to go?"

"Uh huh. But … maybe n-n-n-not r-r-ready to say goodbye?"

"Sure. Thinking about anywhere in particular?"

"Your house?"

"Even after what we just talked about?"

Connor looked sheepish. "I'm s-s-sorry. I j-just thought …"

"Baby, it's okay. I'm just teasing. We can go if you want to."

Connor nodded eagerly, and they headed out. Connor walked close, so that their arms brushed. They were in sight of the parking lot, when Jude spotted something.

"Oh, Connor, wait. Can we do one more thing?"

"What?"

"Photo booth!"

"Photo booth?"

"Please?"

"Oh. Why d-d-do y-y-you want pic-pictures?"

"Because that's what you do when you hang out with someone? Photos so you can remember?" Jude shrugged. "If you don't want me to have pictures of you, I … understand. I'll delete the one at the costume shop too."

"I … No," Connor decided. "I don't mind you having pictures of me. Let's try it."

They headed over to the photo booth and stood in the short line. Before long, it was their turn next, and the attendant held out a box of props to them. Jude let Connor lean over and inspect them, but he didn't pick anything up; he just melted into Jude's side.

"Do you want a moustache?" Jude asked. "What about a top hat?"

Connor shook his head. "N-n-no, thank you. W-w-what about you?"

"No, I'm good. Are you okay? You've sounded a little shaky for the past little bit."

"No, I'm okay. Sometimes I think too much. That's all."

They were gestured into the photo booth. Jude slid in first, so that Connor could be on the curtained side. The attendant drew the curtain, and Jude started pressing buttons.

"Colour or black and white?"

"C-c-colour."

Jude hit that button on the touch screen and it started a five second countdown to the first of their five pictures.

"Let's get Pokey in the first one," Jude proposed.

Connor held it up between the two of them and the first photo flash. He lowered Pokey for the second one, and they put their arms around each other's shoulders. They got closer and closer until, for the last photo, Jude got up the courage to ask for a kiss.

"W-why?"

"Because I always see pictures like that. Please, baby?"

The screen announced that there was one more second before the photo would be taken and, just before the flash went off, Connor rested his hand on Jude's cheek and gently pulled him into a kiss. Jude closed his eyes and pulled him closer for a moment. He knew they couldn't kiss forever, especially in the photo booth, but he could pretend. Then, Connor leant against his hold and Jude knew that it was time to let go. Connor took Pokey in the palm of one hand and then Jude's hand with the other. They stood outside of the booth for a moment as their pictures printed, and then the attendant handed Jude three strips of paper with copies of their photos on it.

Connor waited patiently for Jude to start walking toward the parking lot.

"Do you still want to go back to my place for a little bit?"

"Yeah," Connor said.

They found Gerald and got in. Jude glanced at Connor as he started up the car; Connor was clasping his cactus protectively, holding the hoodie sleeves around his hands so that he could softly touch the spikes. Jude left the night market's parking lot and flicked on the radio for the short ten minute drive back to his place.

Despite Jude's best intentions, he couldn't keep his eyes entirely on the road. He kept glancing at Connor instead; his boyfriend was just that amazing.

When they arrived at Jude's apartment, Connor clutched his cactus close as they walked down the hill to Jude's front door. Jude let him in and Connor took off his shoes and promptly placed Pokey on Jude's kitchen counter. He sat up on one of the stools, and turned to face Jude.

"What are you thinking?" Connor asked.

"Uh, that you look good in my sweater."

"Oh, do you want it back?" Connor was already starting to pull it over his head.

"No, baby. We can just trade."

Connor let the hoodie fall back around him. "Trade? Trade what?"

"I still have your sweater," Jude reminded him. "So, you keep mine and I'll keep yours? Because I really like wearing your sweater, baby."

"If that's okay, I'd like it."

Jude grinned and he leant against the counter next to Connor. "And I'm sorry. I know you didn't want to touch when we met up tonight and you ended up kissing me in the photo booth."

Connor reached up with both hands and, though they were covered with the hoodie sleeves and cradled Jude's cheeks. "Don't think I didn't want to. I wanted to kiss you in the photo booth."

Jude fished the photo strips out of his pocket and held them up. Connor leant and they looked at the pictures.

"What do you think?" Connor asked.

"I think we look really good together. And I hope you think the same thing."

Connor tilted the photos toward him and stared down at it for a little bit longer. Jude wondered what it was like for him to see himself with another man after his last relationship.

"I think … I think that … when I'm next to you, I … like how I look." Connor rested his head against Jude's bicep. "I like how we look."

Jude kissed Connor's shaggy hair, and he placed one of the photo strips in Connor's hand. "I'm going to stick mine with my other pictures."

Connor followed Jude over to his bookshelf, where Jude had a collection of framed photos. Jude knew that he had more photos – better photos, even – on Facebook, but he liked the thought of having his family members and friends right there in his apartment with him. He tucked the photo strip in the corner of his tallest frame, which was a family picture from Christmas when he was sixteen.

"Can you guess who's who?" he asked Connor.

"Oh! Um … Well, you, Stef, Lena. That has to be Callie."

"Has to?" Jude repeated. Connor was right; he just wanted to know what Connor was thinking.

"She has your eyes. And these two look too much alike, which means they're Mariana and Jesus. So that leaves Brandon, so that one is Brandon."

"Exactly."

Connor looked at a few other pictures, and then he reached for one. "Oh. May I?"

"Sure."

The picture he picked up was from the first summer that Jude had known Taylor. Daria had taken a photo of the two of them on the beach, before Jude had ended up taking at least a hundred of Daria and Taylor throughout the course of the day. Connor studied it, and then he held up the frame next to Jude's face. "You haven't changed a lot."

"I got taller."

"Yeah, you got taller," Connor agreed. He put the picture back. "Jude?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Would you mind if I … sent my dad one of the pictures of us? I … I'd like him to know what you look like."

"Sure. I don't mind. I mean, do you still want me to meet him in December?"

Connor nodded. He turned and wrapped his arms around Jude's waist. Jude held him back, and they just stood there for several long minutes, and then Connor started to shake.

"Are you okay?"

"I … I … I don't know anymore. I feel so all over the place. I think I should act one way and then I think I should act another way and then I end up being nothing."

"You're not nothing, Connor. You're never nothing. And you never have to act a certain way. You're allowed to just be you, baby. I like you."

Connor didn't say anything, but he buried his head further into Jude's shirt. Jude gently rubbed Connor's back, being careful not to let his hand get too close to Connor's waistband or too high up around his neck and shoulders. Connor exhaled heavily.

"Anything we can do?"

Connor lifted his head and met Jude's eyes. Jude stayed still, patiently waiting for Connor to make the first move. Then, Connor lifted onto his toes and kissed Jude. Jude spread his hands across Connor's back, holding him close for the few seconds that they kissed. Even as Connor settled back on his flat feet, Jude didn't want to separate, and he kept his forehead pressed to Connor's. Connor trailed his fingers down the length of Jude's arms. Connor picked up Jude's left wrist and he traced around it. Then, he pulled away from Jude to sit on the couch, wrapping the plaid blanket around himself as he did so.

Jude sat down on the opposite end of the couch, trying to judge Connor's face. All he knew about that expression was that it was the one Connor wore when he was thinking too heavily about the past and his ex. He knew that he couldn't do anything but wait for Connor; he knew that he couldn't take any part of those years away from his boyfriend to ease the burden on his shoulders.

"We don't really know each other," Connor said.

"Oh, I don't think that's true. We know each other more than enough, and we're still getting to know each other. We haven't known each other long, but we talk a lot, baby. I think I know you. I think you know me."

"I worry you underestimate how messed up I am."

"I like you. And the more I get to know you, the more I like you. Even with your … everything."

"What happens if it gets too much?"

"What if it doesn't happen?"

Connor shrugged the blanket off his shoulders, and then he pulled the hoodie over his head. He kept his head lowered as he undid the buttons of his left arm's shirt cuff. "Seeing is believing."

Jude didn't know what he was going to come face to face with. But then Connor extended his arm and flipped it over to show the underside of his forearm, and Jude's heart fell. His forearm was covered in a strange, round scar that looked angry. And there was a long, thin scar that looked delicate by comparison along his forearm lengthwise, cutting through the round scar.

"From when I was sixteen," Connor murmured. "Well, the big one …"

Sixteen. That scar was five years old and it still looked evil. Connor's hand dropped against Jude's leg, and Jude took it as a sign that he was allowed to touch Connor. He carefully touched his boyfriend's hand, watching Connor's expression all the while. Connor's face remained frozen, staring at his own arm, as Jude carefully touched his wrist, stopping just short of actually touching the round scar. It was the one Connor had pointed out. It was the one that Jude could talk about.

"Can I ask what happened?"

"We were in the kitchen. I was making dinner. The potatoes boiled over. I made a mistake. He was upset. He said they were ruined. That I was wasting money. And he grabbed my arm and he turned the burner up as high as it could go and he held me there. He … He, uh, um, actually had to take me to the hospital for that one. I told everyone there I did it to myself. That it was an accident. He was so sorry afterward. He doted on me the entire time I was healing. If he had stayed that way, I would have been happy to be with him forever." Connor closed his eyes. "But you don't want to hear it."

"Not really," Jude admitted. "But … I don't want to picture you with someone who would do this to you."

Jude bent and kissed Connor's scar.

"If it makes you feel better, I don't picture me with him anymore either."

"It helps." Jude held Connor's arm in both of his hands. "Is this why you only wear long sleeves?"

"Part of it. I don't want people looking at it. I don't want people asking. But I also just feel better that way. I don't like feeling exposed."

"Is it bothering you right now?"

"A little. But I don't feel like I'm going to freak out. You're … gentle."

Jude handled Connor as if he were made of glass. He brushed his thumbs over the scar and Connor shook. Jude glanced at Connor's other sleeve, still tightly buttoned, and he reached out and held that wrist before he could think about how Connor would react. Connor went rigid, and then he took a couple of deep breaths.

Jude rested his index finger on the button of Connor's closed sleeve. "May I?"

"We … I … um. Try, maybe."

"That's all I'm asking for, baby. I just want us to try."

Jude undid the button but, before he could push the sleeve, Connor started trembling. He paused, and went to button the sleeve back up.

"No!" Connor blurted. "I … I mean … It's going to be hard. I'll tell you when I need to stop."

"Sure?"

"Maybe … Yes."

Jude pushed Connor's right sleeve up over his elbow so that it matched his left sleeve. His right forearm was unscarred. There was just a few freckles lining his arm. His skin was pale from being hidden away and, when Jude flipped his arm over, he trailed his fingers along the thin layer of golden arm hair. He put Connor's arms together, just comparing the two. Connor was as malleable as a doll in his hands. Jude didn't really like the silence; he needed to know whether or not he was hurting Connor by what he was doing.

"Can you talk to me, baby?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever's on your mind."

"Y-you never do what I think you're going to do. I never how I feel like how I think I'm going to feel. I'm scared, but not because of what I think you're going to do. I don't know what I'm so afraid of, Jude, but I can't stop it. I would if I could."

"You're amazing." Jude kissed Connor's scar again. "You're strong. You've had so many things that could have destroyed you but you didn't let them. And you're here and you're trying with me and you've come so far. We're not going to push anything too far. Baby, I don't want to break you. I know this is hard and I'm not about to reach out and put my hands on your face or anything. I know that would be a deal breaker. I want to be here for you. I want to help you heal."

Tears slipped down Connor's cheeks. "Please don't touch my face."

"I won't."

"I know that."

Jude looked up from Connor's wrists to meet his eyes. All he could think of was how beautiful Connor was. Sometimes Jude was struck dumb by just how much Connor had made it through, even in the few short months that they had known one another. Connor bit his lip and then he leant forward, millimetre by millimetre until their lips had brushed. Connor inhaled sharply at the contact, and Jude wondered at it, but he forgot that the moment Connor pressed forward, deepening the kiss. Jude's hands slid up Connor's arms so that he was clutching near Connor's elbows.

"Yes," Connor murmured against his lips.

"Yes what?" Jude breathed.

"Yes, I like who I am with you," Connor said.

Then, Connor kissed him again.

(-.-)

Connor felt Jude's hands slip to his waist, and he kissed Jude again. He wondered if Jude noticed he was still crying; he knew there was no way that Jude didn't. But he felt better in Jude's hands. He didn't understand. He didn't understand how it was so easy to show Jude the layers of himself. They were things that he kept hidden. His father hadn't even seen the scar since the December days that Connor spent in the hospital. But there was no judgement in Jude's eyes. Adam looked at him and Connor saw guilt and regret clearly on his face, and Connor tried to hide himself so that his father didn't have to feel that.

Jude didn't have any of that. Jude didn't look at him like he was lesser than, either, which was how Connor saw himself whenever he looked in the mirror. Connor would look at himself and stare at the scars and the marks that his ex had left behind and he would feel the urge to grab a knife and carve them out. Jude calmed him. Jude was peaceful and sweet.

Jude's hands slipped up Connor's body, and they touched the sides of Connor's button-up. Connor felt as if he'd chugged a gallon of ice water and his insides were freezing. Jude was going to try to take it off.

"What are you doing?" Connor whispered, his voice shaking.

Quiet, Connor, you're going to love it.

I know you like this.

You love it when I hold you, don't you?

Trust me, Connor. It'll be okay if you trust me.

"I just thought …" Jude took a deep breath and leant back from Connor, putting his hands in his lap. "I got a little carried away. We don't have to go there."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Connor pulled his sleeves down and buttoned them back up, hiding the scar away. He felt better with it hidden. But now Jude knew that it was there. He wondered what Jude would think of his other scars. They were more hidden and Connor didn't know if he could ever picture himself being shirtless in front of Jude. Then again, he never thought that Jude would see that scar either. He never thought he would kiss anyone or like being held by anyone and Jude turned his world upside down.

And Connor didn't hate it.

He, who had stuck to routine and had taken great pains to try to figure out his world and know how to navigate it, was now more than okay with letting Jude sweep him off his feet. He pulled the plaid blanket up over his shoulders and then he held his arm open. Jude smiled and tucked himself under Connor's arm, and Connor felt relief sweep over him. He'd been worried that Jude would look at him differently after seeing the scars, but nothing in Jude's face had changed.

Jude wrapped his arms around Connor's waist. "Thank you for trusting me."

Connor wasn't sure what to say to that. It wasn't as if he ever made a conscious decision to trust Jude; he just did. And Connor always just went with what felt right with Jude. When it felt right to give him more puzzle pieces to his past, he did. Connor didn't think that it was completely fair to Jude for Connor to put him through the things Connor did without, at least, attempting to offer an explanation why. Connor could show Jude how broken he was; he could show him the cracks and wounds from his years of hell. But Jude still didn't turn him away.

Jude shifted his position against Connor and he took Connor's left hand. He pulled Connor's arm across his body and he caressed around his wrist.

Maybe he wasn't as fine with it as Connor had thought. He was scared to ask. He hadn't thought about what he would do if Jude turned him away, because he hadn't thought about Jude doing so. Part of him expected it, because he was terrible and he deserved abandonment, but Jude didn't act like he would. Jude didn't seem like he would just throw Connor away. Jude had said he was proud they were together; Jude had taken him to meet his parents.

Jude held Connor's hand and wrist to his chest, over his heart. Connor had to close his eyes and will himself not to cry as Jude pressed a kiss to his fingers and then to his wrist. He didn't deserve to be touched so gently. Jude didn't deserve to pay for Connor's ex's sins.

"I won't ever hurt you," Jude said.

"I worry I'll hurt you," Connor whispered. "I-I-I-I w-wouldn't h-h-hit y-y-you but there's s-s-so much wrong with me."

"Oh, baby. It's hard. I know that. I try to, at least. But I think you like me. I think you trust me enough that we can work out together. What do you think?"

Jude looked up at him, and Connor thought that Jude was more than he'd ever deserve. Jude wanted to be here with him and, though Connor's brain could comprehend that, his heart just didn't get it. His heart didn't understand why Jude would care so much about him, given that they'd only met in September, and sometimes his heart worried about it, because his ex had cared about him very quickly too. But his ex and Jude cared in different ways. No one could ever accuse them of having any similarities.

"I think that I like you."

"Good."

Jude was still looking up at him, and, because he could, Connor leant forward and kissed him. Jude's lips were soft, but his hand clutched tightly at Connor's. Connor flexed his fingers and leant away. He didn't understand what Jude was trying to tell him. People were hard to read.

"What?" Jude asked.

"You … squeezed me. It … It w-was … I don't know. I don't know what I'm trying to say."

Jude tightened his hand around Connor's again. "My thoughts can get away from me sometimes too."

"Oh." Connor bit his lip. He didn't know what to do about that. "M-may I ask?"

"Sometimes I think about pushing it. I know it's not time to try it. I know. But I'm only human, baby. And I really like you. And you're really hot."

Connor frowned. He sorted through everything that he knew to be true and then he sorted through everything that he believed. Jude did so much in this relationship. "Tell me what you want."

"What?"

"What you want," Connor said. "What you want me to do. I'm good at listening. I can listen. I can … be okay. Whatever you want."

"Oh, Connor, no. No, that's … that's not what I want at all. I don't want you to do anything with me because you think you should or because I'm telling you to. If anything ever happens, I want it to be because we both want it and we're both ready for it to happen. That's what I want."

"Oh." Connor took a deep breath, and he touched the edge of Jude's jaw. Jude tilted his head into Connor. "Do you mean that?"

"Yeah, of course. I wouldn't say it if I didn't. Why? Do you not believe it?"

"I want to. It … It sounds really nice to me, Jude."

"Are you feeling okay?" Jude asked.

Connor nodded. "Yeah. I feel … like I just jumped out of a plane. And I need some time to realize that I just jumped out of a plane."

Jude chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I get that."

Jude kissed Connor's fingers again and Connor held him closer. They melted into the couch, facing one another. Jude turned the T.V. on to a channel that had a black screen and played nothing but music. Jude hadn't really let go of Connor's left hand and wrist yet; he kept toying with Connor's fingers.

"Can I see it again?"

"Why?"

"I don't know." Jude's voice dropped, "I knew you went through a lot. But you were right. Seeing is believing and I can't explain it much better. I'm just sorry it happened to you."

"It's okay if you want to look at that one."

"I hate that there's more than one. I'm just sorry, Connor."

"Everyone is," Connor sighed. "Everyone but the one person that needed to be."

"Why wouldn't you run away?"

"He's the only person that loves me. I need … needed him. Mom had barely just died; Dad hated me. I didn't have anyone else. And then I got used to it and he got in my head and I couldn't have. Even if I had thought to."

Jude undid the button on his cuff and peeled his sleeve back to his elbow again. Connor shook as Jude touched his bare skin. He wasn't used to it. Not since the doctors had anyone done so, but, really, the last person he remembered touching him was his ex. Jude pressed the pad of his thumb to the middle of Connor's round scar, near the end of the long scar. His ex-boyfriend had to work overtime to achieve the gentleness that came to Jude so naturally. Even then, Connor thought that his ex wasn't even close to anything Jude was.

Connor felt tears gather in his eyes again but, unlike last time, they didn't slip out quietly. He broke down and heaved sobs so great they shook his entire body. And Jude just held him. He didn't say anything. Somehow, that meant more to Connor than if he had whispered meaningless words. There was nothing to be said. There was nothing that could be done. Sometimes, Connor just had to give into how much he hurt and how hard he found life to be and let himself cry.

Jude rubbed his back and softly hummed with the song in the background. Connor sniffled out an apology.

"You don't need to be sorry, baby. That's what we're here for: to support each other."

"I don't want to be like this," Connor choked out, feeling as if he were going to drown in his tears.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry there's nothing I can do to make it better."

Connor didn't say anything to that. He pulled Jude tight against his chest and Jude tucked his head underneath of Connor's chin. Jude's hand still clung to his, even as the limbs were trapped between their two chests. Connor could feel the slow beat of Jude's heart against the back of his hand, and Connor forced himself to focus on that. He took deep breaths in time with Jude's heart, until he no longer felt like he was about to crumble into pieces.

He stared to sit up, and Jude moved out of his hold, to the other side of the couch. Connor took a long breath, taking in the fact that he had space. Jude allowed him to have space. And Connor didn't even need to say it. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, and his sleeve opened around his wrist. He went to tug it back down and button it, but then he thought twice about it. Dr. Scott always told him to not sit in his comfort zone all the time and to push it a little bit. Connor knew that he had pushed a lot tonight, but he didn't see the harm in trying to leave his sleeves rolled up tonight. Jude had already seen him and Jude hadn't turned him away yet.

Connor rolled up his other sleeve to match. He touched the edge of his big scar and then he put his arm down. Even with the scar face down, though, he could still see the dark edge of it curling around his forearm. Connor tore his eyes away from it, as hard as it was. Even when he was alone, he kept his sleeves tightly buttoned.

"You're beautiful, Connor."

Connor's cheeks went warm. "It's late."

"Do you want to go?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Not really."

Connor leant against the back of the couch and just stared at Jude. Jude mimicked his position.

"So," Jude said, "One year, when I was fifteen, there was a carnival type thing that Taylor, Daria, Dylan, and I went to. I think it was right before Dylan and I started dating. And Daria had gotten her hands on some alcohol, so we poured it into our soda. And, after that we went on rides. And we were on the Scrambler when Dylan threw up on me. And I still dated him after that," Jude said, laughing about it.

Connor shakily laughed too. "It sounds … gross."

"It was mostly on my shoes," Jude said. "I spent the night in very cheap flip flops, worried that our parents would figure out what we were doing. But I did a lot of things like that … You know, trying stuff because Taylor or Daria had it and I wanted to be with them."

"Like peer pressure?"

"I mean, I know I could have said 'no'. I just didn't. I wanted to try it too."

"What's 'it'?"

"Just alcohol. Cigarettes, once. Which I hated. I just stick to a drink every so often."

"You … didn't seem bad with it on Halloween."

"I don't think I am. But, hey, that's probably the same opinion I'd have if I were an alcoholic … an unaware alcoholic." Jude stretched his legs across the coffee table. "I don't need to get a beer gut at twenty; I'd never get rid of it."

"You're almost twenty-one. Next Thursday, right?"

"Right."

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"You don't need to get me anything, baby."

"I can't do nothing, though," Connor protested. "I … I could make you dinner. And a cake. Something you really like."

"Okay, I like the sound of that!" Jude said, and Connor liked the excitement on his face. He wanted Jude to be happy.

"On your real birthday? Or are you going home?"

"Nah, I took that weekend off so I'm going home for that. I'd love to spend my real birthday with you."

"Okay," Connor agreed. "What do you want me to make?"

"The shrimp thing? Please? And something with lots of icing."

"I can put lots of icing on the shrimp thing."

Jude laughed. "I trust your cooking, but I don't know if I trust that."

"I'll make sure you like it."

"Chocolate, please!" Jude said with a grin.

"Okay. I can do that."

"But it's not until next Thursday," Jude whined. "That's over a week away!"

"You'll live."

"Definitely. I'll just live in anticipation."

"It's late," Connor mused.

"I know. It doesn't mean you have to go, though."

"I can't stay tonight, you know that," Connor said. "You can't con me into staying again."

"That wasn't a con!" Jude protested. "But all right, baby, I'll take you home."

As Jude got up, Connor buttoned his sleeves back up and then he pulled Jude's sweater back over his head and hugged it tightly to him. It was just a sweatshirt, but it felt like more than that. They had traded. It was give and take, and then take and give. Connor wasn't giving and left being desperate for something in return; Jude gave back to him to. If Connor were being honest, he'd have to admit that Jude gave a lot more to this relationship than Connor did, if only because Jude could afford to. Jude had those things. Connor was giving all that he could, but he worried that, eventually, it wouldn't be enough and Jude would want more.

"Don't forget your little friend," Jude said.

"That's what you said last time."

"How many cactuses do you have now? Total."

"Oh. Um … Maybe twelve."

Connor slid his copy of their photo booth pictures into the front pocket of the hoodie and then he picked up Pokey. He really was going to run out of room in his tiny dorm for cactuses, but he couldn't stop himself. There was just something about them that he really liked.

Jude held the front door open for Connor and he stepped out into the cool night. He looked up toward the dark sky, catching a glimpse of a star or two above the lights of the town. Jude came up beside him, and Connor felt a kiss press to his shoulder.

"Why?"

"Why not? Am I not allowed to kiss your shoulder?"

"If you want to make out with your sweater, I guess that's your business."

"Only because you're the one in it. I wouldn't make out with my sweater otherwise."

"If you say so."

Jude kissed the top of his shoulder again, and then kissed closer to Connor's neck, working his way in a slow line until he'd kissed Connor's cheek. Connor loved it. Connor loved the little bit of affection and he was so glad that he was able to let go a little bit and have Jude touch him. He hadn't even thought of how touch could feel good.

"Do it again, please," he whispered, and Jude did. Connor didn't even have to turn his head to know that Jude was smiling. He could just feel that Jude was happy.

"Didn't you say something about going home?" Jude asked, and he lifted his head. Connor wasn't sure where he was intending to go with it, but the next thing he knew, Jude had squeaked out an 'ow' and was violently shaking his hand.

"What happened?"

"Pokey stabbed me!"

"He's not malicious, Jude."

"I was stabbed!"

"Maybe you deserve it. Maybe you should have done better."

Connor was looking down at the floorboards of the small patio, but he saw Jude's feet as his boyfriend took a step away from him. Connor knew he'd said the wrong thing; he knew that he'd said things that would hurt and scar. He knew. He'd been there. But sometimes things found him blurring the lines and he wasn't thinking of the world that he was standing in now but the one that he had been in where his ex had been a boyfriend and Jude Adams Foster didn't exist.

"No, Connor," Jude said. "You didn't deserve what happened to you. No matter what he said. You didn't do anything."

Connor touched the top of his cactus. "I should go home now."

"Okay, let's go."

Connor curled into Gerald's passenger seat. Jude was quiet as he drove and guilt started to set in on Connor.

"I … I'm sorry, Jude. Even if I'm in a bad mood, it doesn't mean I should be allowed to be mean to you. I don't like it. I don't want to be. I … I don't have anything to make it better."

"Sorry helps when I know you mean it." Jude glanced over at smiled, and Connor felt warm.

"I do mean it." Connor touched one of Pokey's spikes. "And … I'm sorry I've been all over the place today."

"I try to understand it, baby. Right now, it's okay. Someday it'll probably be harder for me to handle than today was."

"But you wouldn't lie to me."

"No. I wouldn't."

Jude pulled into the nano parking lot and found a parking space. He cut the engine and then turned in his seat to face Connor. Connor unbuckled his seatbelt to face Jude. He felt nervous and he tightened his grip on Pokey's pot. "You know, baby, I … No, no, calm down. I'm going to tell you what I'm thinking, I just need to collect my thoughts."

"I'm sorry," Connor murmured, and he bowed his head. "I just don't like feeling like something being kept from me. I like knowing things."

"I know. That much, at least, I know about you."

Connor managed to crack a smile at that.

"I was going to say that I try to understand and I hope I do a good job. I just hope you understand back why sometimes I can't be perfect."

"I don't expect you to be perfect," Connor blurted. "I barely expect you not to hate me."

"Well, I can definitely succeed there."

Connor bit down on his lip. "And … and … s-s-sometimes I … I'd like you to, um, kiss me."

"Like now?"

"Yeah." Jude reached forward and gently wrapped his hands around Connor's wrists. "I don't want to get poked again."

"C-c-could you not hold them both?"

Jude's other hand dropped to rest across the top of his leg, and Connor was able to take a deep breath. He leant forward and was met with Jude's lips. He could only kiss him for a moment, but Jude seemed to sense that, and he just pressed their foreheads together. Connor was okay with that; he liked Jude's casual closeness that didn't feel fraught with expectations.

"How'd I get to meet you?" Jude asked.

"Someone's clearly out to get you."

"I wasn't thinking of you as a punishment."

"You're the miracle," Connor corrected. "I'm the lucky one."

"No one's ever called me a miracle before."

"I mean that too."

"Can I kiss you again?"

Connor flexed his arms and Jude immediately let go of him. Connor slid Pokey onto the dashboard and then he cradled Jude's face in his hands, letting his fingers touch Jude's cheeks. His middle finger touched a patch of stubble that Jude had missed that morning and Connor just took a long inhale. Then, he gently pulled Jude toward him until he was caught in Jude's kiss. He tightened his grip against Jude's cheeks and Jude's arms wrapped around him, pulling Connor tight. His heart picked up speed in his chest and some instinct whispered too close but there was a louder roar that sounded like Jude's name and Connor liked it. He didn't know if he was allowed to like it or if he should but he did and he wanted the closeness that Jude was pulling him into. The front of his ribs dug into the console but Connor didn't care. He closed his eyes and kissed his boyfriend like he was whole and like he had a right too.

His life was his own now, and Connor needed to take it back. He could take it back by kissing who he wanted to and he wanted to kiss Jude. He wanted to kiss a boy and not feel guilty that it was a boy and that it was a boy who wasn't his ex and – Jude made a small noise against his mouth and fear went straight up and down Connor's spine. But it wasn't scary like cowering in a corner, waiting for his ex to bear down on him. It was scary like something new; it was scary like something he didn't know what to do about. But Jude wasn't going to judge him for not knowing how to navigate it, so Connor let one hand slide to the back of Jude's head. Connor felt the tip of Jude's tongue against his lips and he knew that it was too far; it was too much for tonight and he didn't want to push his relationship with Jude until something broke. He gave Jude one last kiss, and then he sat back, biting his lip.

"Too much, baby?" Jude asked, though he sounded a little dazed.

"Just enough," Connor whispered. "I, um, think that's my limit for right now."

"That's okay." Jude took a deep breath, and, even in the dim light of the car, Connor could see how bright his eyes were. "Goodnight, baby. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Connor echoed, and he picked up Pokey and let himself out of the car. Before he shut the door, he turned around to look at Jude again. "Text me when you get home, please?"

"Always. Goodnight."

"Night."

Connor shut the door behind him and headed inside. He took the stairs up to his room and let himself in. He locked the door behind him, checked that the bathroom was still empty, and then checked that his window was still locked. As he stood there, he counted the small cactuses that he had managed to cram into the narrow space. Including the two he had gotten with Jude, he had thirteen cactuses. He placed Pokey next to the other one he'd bought with Jude, and then he reached into his sweater pocket and pulled out the pictures of him and Jude. He sat down in his desk chair and he just stared. That was him, with his arms around someone else; that was him, kissing someone else. He dug his roll of tape out of his box of school supplies and flipped the photo strip over. That was when he realized he'd ended up with two copies of their pictures. He wondered if Jude would want the second copy, and then he thought about how he wanted the second copy. If Jude asked, he'd give it back, but, until Jude did so, he would keep it.

Connor taped one strip of the photos next to his window. The other, he folded carefully so as not to bend their faces, and then he slid it into his wallet. He unfolded his bed and was straightening the blankets out when he got Jude's home safe text. Connor smiled at it for a moment, before wishing Jude a final goodnight, and then he gathered up his pyjamas and went into his bathroom to change. He faced his small mirror. When he took off his button-up and his t-shirt, he looked at his torso. He traced the scar around his wrist, trying to be as gentle with himself as Jude was with him. He touched the long scar that Jude hadn't asked about. But then he moved on, across the scar on his collar bone that Jude had seen briefly, and then down to the other scars. Most of them were from the same incident, but some of them … weren't. He touched the mess that was the skin over his ribs, and then he was about to touch of the ones that were lower on his torso, but he had to turn away. He couldn't do it, and he couldn't let Jude ever see it. Connor would always be broken. People had tried to heal him before, but the cracks still showed through. Connor pulled on the long sleeved shirt he always slept in, and then he reached for Jude's hoodie. He knew he'd overheat during the night, between the sweatshirt and his pyjama pants, but he would rather be warm.

He turned out his bathroom light and tucked himself into bed. He curled the long arms of the sweater around his hands and he tucked his nose under the collar of the hoodie. After that, it was easy to fall asleep.

The chapter's title is after the song Break Your Heart by The Gaslight Anthem. If you have a song that reminds you of Barefoot And Bruised and would like it to be on the playlist – and possibly a chapter title – send it in and let me know! I'd love to hear your playlist suggestions! (Chapter titles are mostly chosen via shuffle.)

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Barefoot And Bruised, go to my tumblr URL and add backslash tagged backslash barefoot dash and dash bruised dash. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~