All aboard the angst train! This is going to get worse before it gets better. Also, I like to think that Kowalski is a good mix of oblivious and struggling with heteronormative expectations in this chapter. I've been trying to highlight that a lot of Kowalski's decisions are based on what he thinks he's supposed to do in regards to his desire to feel normal.

Finally, the song lyrics mentioned at the very end of the chapter come from Pray (Put Em In the Dirt) by Hollywood Undead.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this," Kowalski muttered outside of Rico's studio, his stomach twisting with dread. He knocked first, but decided that Rico probably wouldn't hear him over the music and entered the room anyway nearly walking into a stack of canvases by the door.

"Sup," Rico asked as he descended the ladder he had been on to finish hanging the last plastic sheet along the wall that he had deemed the splash zone.

"If you're busy, I can come back later," Kowalski offered, eyeing the new set up and cans of spray paint and open paint cans lined up on the table.

"Nah," Rico grinned and turned down the volume on the stereo, "I got time."

"Are you sure? It looks like you're in the middle of something important."

Rico merely shrugged, "haven't started."

"Oh, okay then." Kowalski felt his anxiety increase 10 fold because as much as he had wanted to talk to someone about the issue he had developed, he wasn't sure if he'd get through talking about it without being humiliated. "I'll try to make it quick, but I'm not sure how to even say it, but it does involve my relationship with Doris."

Receiving only a raised eyebrow in return, Kowalski opted to get it over with, like pulling a bandaid off. "I have a date with Doris tonight and things have been going really, really well...except in one department. Our last two dates have been rather erotically charged and It's not as if we haven't been able to have any level of intimacy," Kowalski recalled the last few attempts that had left at least one of them satisfied. "However, they've ended up in disaster because I'm worried about what will happen when Doris sees me and all the scars I have. Even over clothes if Doris gets too close to any of the ones from Blowhole, I freeze up."

Rico nodded in understanding, his own hand coming up to subconsciously rub at this chest, even under the fabric of the shirt he could make out every detail of the scar underneath. He was starting to see why Kowalski had come to him over the issue. "Does she know?"

"I mean, I've told her that I have scarring from my line of work and she says she's okay with that. That its a sign that I've survived, but to say I freeze up was an understatement," Kowalski continued, hot shame washing over him. "The other week Doris put her arms around my neck and I had a panic attack. All she did was brush against that one scar on my neck and I left like it was Blowhole all over again. Having scars didn't bother me before, but these are-"

"Different?" Scars were commonplace in their jobs, but there was a difference between getting shot or carved up like a turkey in a knife fight compared to being dissected and/or modified against your will.

"Exactly. How do you get over that?"

"You don't," Rico answered honestly even though he knew it wasn't what Kowalski was hoping to hear.

"But haven't you been intimate with someone since," Kowalski made a vague gesture to his own chest. Finding it hard to believe that Rico hadn't been intimate with someone for almost a decade. "I mean wasn't there that woman in Guatemala?"

"And Julien," Rico confirmed with a chuckle and crossed the room to where Kowalski was standing, looking more confused than before.

Kowalski frowned, he knew that Rico wasn't very open when it came to the scar dividing his chest, but surely it couldn't bother him so much if he had intimate relationships. "Then how did you not get over it?"

"Trust," Rico replied easily. "I have to trust the person I'm with or else…" he trailed off and mined a train going off the tracks.

"That does make sense." Kowalski frowned for a moment, thinking. Doris hadn't shown any ill intention toward him so logically she could be trusted and he did trust her for that reason. "But I do trust Doris."

"Real trust takes time," Rico shrugged unsure of what else he could say because even if someone hadn't hurt you, it didn't mean that you wholly trust them. It was like there were different degrees and levels of trust for different situations. Then it occurred to him that he could demonstrate what he meant rather than try to explain it. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Kowalski replied automatically. "Why?"

"Close your eyes," Rico instructed and hoped that his demonstration wouldn't get him punched in the face.

Kowalski compiled after giving Rico one last suspicious glare. "I'm not sure what point you're trying to - oh," Kowalski shivered at the feeling of fingers barely brushing against the most prominent scar on the back of his neck, the weight resting on the crook of his neck and shoulders comforting rather than suffocating. With his eyes closed he could focus on the warmth radiating from the body in front of him and he could almost imagine that it was Doris. Almost. One of the hands moved to cup his jaw while the other slid down the center of his back. He instinctively stepped closer and found his hands against a broad muscular chest. Through the thin fabric he could feel part of the raised Y shaped scar on Rico's chest and he could smell the spices from the soap he used.

It occurred to him in the back of his mind that he hadn't touched Rico's scar before in any context and something about this moment was momentous. Rico's nose bumped against his and Kowalski had an overwhelming urge to close the remaining space between them, especially as he felt Rico's breath ghosted across his face. He leaned closer, anticipating the first brush of lips against his and then it was gone.

Kowalski opened his eyes and tried to ignore the sting of disappointment which was quickly replaced by a burning shame and he was glad that Rico had put distance between them once more. A part of him was angry that Rico's touch had invoked such a reaction in him whereas Doris's could not, but ultimately he understood what point Rico had been trying to make. He knew Rico where he didn't know Doris. At least not well enough for some primitive part of his brain to accept that she wasn't a threat.

"Was that okay?" Rico asked, pulling Kowalski from his thoughts.

"More than and also unexpected, but I understand what you were trying to do. I trust Doris, but that trust isn't strong enough yet." Now that he had his wits about him once more, Kowalski recalled how long it had taken Rico to stop flinching every time someone looked at him, let alone allow anyone to get near him. And to learn that years later he still struggled with the idea of letting someone be close to him physically was eye-opening. "I guess, it's just frustrating since it's only been a few weeks but I feel like Doris could be the one for me and she's going to be leaving on a research trip in three weeks. I can't shake the feeling that I'm running out of time with someone important in my life."

"You sound like Skipper," Rico teased but understood what Kowalski meant. His brief relationship with Julien had been similar in that regard. At the beginning they couldn't get enough of being around each other then faded into something platonic when it became apparent that they were both still carrying a torch for someone else. Although he was certain that wasn't the case for Kowalski and Doris.

"I guess I did, didn't I?" Kowalski laughed humorlessly. "I should probably stop trying to jam an entire relationship into a three week window."

"Probably."

Kowalski glanced at the clock and realized that he needed to get ready to meet Doris, but he felt reluctant to leave. "I need to start getting ready, but thank you, Rico. I don't think I could ever find a way to pay you back for all the things you've done for me."

"Just be happy," Rico replied with a soft smile. It lasted only long enough for Kowalski to close the door behind him before something seemed to break inside. He turned the volume back up on the stereo and let the music wash over him before grabbing the open can of red paint and hurling it at the canvas surrounded by plastic.

"Let me tell you a story, it's about a little kid/Who never really understood much of anything he did/He had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars/In a broke down palace on a broken boulevard"