Here is chapter three~!

I have to place a formal warning here and tell you
that this story was previously rated M for language,
but now it's M for smut as well. So, if you don't enjoy
that type of thing, please skip over that portion of this
chapter. Thank you, and enjoy!

Old Habits Die Hard

Chapter Three

The apartment complex looked like it belonged in the upscale, wealthy part of Los Angeles. It was luxurious, and Nat felt slightly out of place as he pulled up and parked in a spot, letting the car idle for a moment. He dialed Rave's number and cut the engine, stepping out of his car to stand by the hood, listening to the ring of his cellphone.

"Hello?"

"I'm here," Nat murmured, smiling slightly at the sound of Rave's voice.

"Be right down."

Nat tucked his phone away, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He hoped he at least looked decent; he'd dug up a pair of old black slacks out of his dresser, and a dark blue denim button-up completed his look. He'd rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and even combed his hair into obedience.

Finally, Rave appeared at the door, pushing it open and striding toward him. He wore plain navy skinny jeans and a brown, button-up coat, complete with a tan wool scarf thrown around his neck. His hair was, once again, pulled back into a ponytail. Nat perked up slightly at the sight of him, pushing off from the car as Rave approached.

"Hey." Nat offered a small smile. Golden-brown eyes swept over his figure, giving him a slow once-over, and Nat felt as if he was standing before a possible boss for a job interview. Finally, Rave spoke.

"I'm surprised, Goldberg. You look presentable."

Nat chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment. And hey, I got all dressed up for you babe," he retorted, stepping backward. "C'mon, or we'll be late for our reservation," he murmured, ignoring Rave's glare in response to his pet-name, which dissipated with his final words.

"Reservation?"

Nat grinned at the brunet as they got into the car. "Yep. Dinner."

"Where?"

"That's a surprise. By the way, happy birthday." Nat reached into the backseat, producing a bouquet of soft, pink tulips. Rave eyed them for a moment too long, and Nat began to doubt his choice of flowers. "Tulips are still your favorite, right?"

Rave smirked, taking the flowers. "Yes."

Nat turned the key in the ignition, starting the car. As he glanced in his rearview mirror, he saw Rave lower his head to inhale the scent of the tulips with his peripheral vision.

They drove for fifteen minutes or so before they reached the inner city district. Through a few lights, two stop signs, and they turned into the parking lot of the restaurant. Nat glanced at Rave, anxious to see his reaction. The brunet looked skeptical, gazing out the window.

"You can afford this?"

Nat snickered as he pulled into a parking spot. "Not exactly the reaction I was expecting."

The couple got out of the car and walked up to the building. Nat grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, stepping aside, and Rave scoffed at him as he passed by. Grinning, Nat followed Rave into the dim restaurant, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. Nat's stomach grumbled at the scent of delicious food, and he realized just how hungry he really was. He caught the eye of the blonde at the podium.

"Reservation for Goldberg," he said smoothly, a smirk fitted upon his lips. The young woman, obviously smitten by Nathan's natural charm, led them to their table. Nat followed Rave to their booth, and they sat across from each other, Rave removing his scarf and placing it on the seat beside him. Nat glanced at their server; a relatively tall brunet with black-framed glasses and a cute, shy smile. He looked younger than the both of them.

"Welcome! I'm Gavin, and I'll be your server today. Can I get your guys some drinks?"

"A bottle of Sauvignon Blanc," Rave said promptly.

"Just a Mountain Dew for me."

Rave shot him an incredulous glare as their waiter left with their drink requests. "Really? A fucking soda?"

Nat smirked, jabbing a thumb at his own chest. "Designated driver, here. Besides, this's your birthday dinner. Drink 'til your heart's content."

With a roll of his eyes, Rave composed himself as the waiter returned with two glasses and a bottle. Gavin popped the cork out of the wine bottle and left with the promise of returning soon to take their orders.

"So, what's it like, bein' 22?"

Rave lifted his glass to his lips after pouring a bit into it. "Not any different than being fucking 21."

Nat snickered, watching him take a sip of the wine, nose wrinkling slightly at the taste. He really didn't seem to have changed much at all. He was still snarky, still sarcastic as hell, and he still acted as though he owned the town. Though, there was one thing different...

"So, what's with your hair?"

Rave's eyes snapped up from his menu, fixing on Nathan. "... Excuse me?"

A smirk fit itself upon Nat's lips. "Y'know, the streaks. Did you really miss me that much, Princess?"

Golden-brown eyes narrowed into slits. "Fuck off, Nathan," he spat, promptly lifting the menu up to shield himself from Nat's view. With a chuckle, Nat looked down at his own menu, eyes skimming all the possible combinations of dishes and sides.

"Have we decided yet?" Gavin prompted, reappearing with a pen and ticket pad in his hand. Rave closed his menu.

"I'll have the Black Bean Vegetarian Chili, with a side of corn bread." Rave handed over his menu to Gavin, eyes sweeping over to look at Nathan.

"And for you, sir?"

Nat almost laughed at the prospect of being called sir, but he ordered instead. "I'll have an 8oz. Rib-Eye Steak with garlic potatoes."

"And how would you like that cooked?"

"Medium rare's good."

Thanking them, Gavin took their menus and departed, leaving them alone at their table once more. Rave looked considerably less agitated than before.

"So, are you going to stick around this time? Or should I expect you to disappear sometime soon?"

Nat gazed across the table at Rave. The words hit home, and his chest immediately began to ache. He lowered his eyes, unsure of how to answer the question.

"Nah, I'm here to stay," he finally mustered. "No disappearing acts for me," he laughed awkwardly, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.

Rave lowered his eyes to take a sip of his wine. Once he placed it back on the table, he spoke quietly. "I didn't want to give up on you, you know. I didn't have a choice. You wouldn't fucking answer any of my texts or phone calls." He turned dark golden eyes on him. "I left you countless voicemails."

"Yeah, I remember," Nat winced. "I was an asshole, Rave. You didn't deserve that."

"It doesn't matter now."

Nat paused, gazing at the brunet hesitantly. "... How did you meet him?"

"One of my freshman courses took a trip to a local gallery. He was there, showing off some of his art." Rave's smile was slightly distant. "He gave me his number and we went from there."

"He seems... perfect," Nat mumbled, unable to keep the defeated tone from his voice. Rave regarded him with a perturbed look.

"Nobody's perfect, Nathan."

Before Nat could ask what he meant, Gavin arrived at the table with their food, setting the plates down in front of them. Nat dug in, thankful for the distraction, and Rave scoffed in revulsion at the pink, slightly bloody center of the steak.

"Did you really have to order the most fucking disgusting thing on the menu and eat it in front of me?"

Nat snickered, shoving a piece of the juicy meat into his mouth. "Steak is delicious," he declared muffedly. Rave's nose wrinkled as he recoiled, fixing his gaze on his own food and trying to ignore Nathan's abhorrent table manners. Nat grinned. 'Just like old times.'

"How's being a Broadway star goin'?"

Rave paused in mid-sip of his wine and swallowed, setting the glass back down. "I've been in several plays during the past two years. Henry the IV is my first lead role."

"Yeah? When's the premiere?"

"May 12th."

"I'll have to come see it," Nat mused over a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Please, Goldberg. As if you truly care for Shakespeare?"

"Are you kidding? As if I would pass up the opportunity to see you in tights?!"

Rave cracked a contagious smile, and Nat laughed aloud, his half-eaten steak momentarily forgotten. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the brunet until he'd spent some actual time with him. It was as easy as breathing, being in his company once more. Just the two of them, like this. It took some effort to remember that he would be taking Rave back to his fiancé, when Nathan was once the object of his petty affections. How had Rave managed to move on so smoothly when Nat, himself, had never truly forgotten what they'd had? It seemed so opposite: Nat was always the ladies' man; he had always been more likely to be the one who would move on and leave Rave behind, not the other way around. 'But that was how it went down in the first place,' he reminded himself. He was the one who went off to college and avoided talking to Rave.

"Goldberg!"

Nat jumped, startled by Rave's sharp, sudden voice breaking into his reverie. The brunet was regarding him with an expectant – yet moderately amused – expression. "Off in dream-land again? Am I that fucking boring?"

"I was thinkin' about high school. Remember rehearsing for the Peter Pan performance?"

Rave lowered his gaze to his nearly finished chili. "Backstage during lunches?" Nat could've sworn he saw a pink tint upon olive cheeks.

"Yeah. I was your Wendy," Nat grinned.

"I don't remember much of that time being spent on actual line-reading."

"You knew all of your lines anyway. You probably still remember them now."

"Tink, how can I save you? You think you would get well again if children believed in fairies? If you believe, clap your hands!"

The two broke into laughter at Rave's reiteration, Nat taking a sip of his Mountain Dew and enjoying the lingering smile upon Rave's face. He lifted his wine glass to his lips, polishing off his second glass. Nat watched the way his tongue traced across those soft lips.

"Shall we go?"

Nat smirked and flagged Gavin down for the check as Rave gathered up his scarf and wine bottle. The bill was just over $40, so Nat handed the teen a fifty dollar bill. "Keep the change." With a wink, he turned to follow Rave out of the restaurant.

The drive back to Rave's apartment was filled with more lighthearted banter. Nat enjoyed Rave's company even more after the brunet had consumed a few drinks; it loosened him up and made it easier to have a conversation with him.

"Want me to walk you up?" Nat asked, pulling into the same parking spot as before.

"Yes." Rave, clutching his wine bottle, opened the door and got out.

"Don't forget your flowers," Nat murmured, snatching them from the backseat and slamming his door shut, hastily leaving it unlocked and jogging to catch up with Rave.

The duo climbed the stairs, Rave leading the way down the hallway. He stopped in front of a door labeled 232 and fished a key from his pocket, unlocking it and pushing it open.

"What d'you wanna do with these?"

Rave turned. "Give them here," he murmured softly, taking the bouquet of tulips from Nat. "Hold on a moment." Rave retreated into his apartment, leaving the door open, and Nat stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. He watched Rave set the vase and bottle on a kitchen counter, then remove his coat and toss it onto the couch, revealing a soft gray sweater. He approached Nathan once more.

"Thank you for dinner."

Nat flashed a grin at him; it wasn't often that Rave expressed genuine gratitude. "Happy birthday," Nat murmured. Something shone in Rave's eyes, but he dropped his head before Nat could determine what it was. "When can I see you again?"

Rave shifted to lean against the frame of the door. "Right now."

Nat smirked, drawn in by the hooded gaze. 'Bedroom eyes. He's always had 'em.' "Tomorrow, then? You're off, yeah?" he questioned, tilting his head to the side ever-so-slightly.

Golden-brown eyes rose, gazing at him through dark lashes, and Nat was thrown by the look, frozen to the spot.

"Who said tonight was over?"

Mere seconds after the words left his mouth in a low tone, Rave lifted his hands to grab the fabric of Nat's button-up. Before Nat could even remotely react, he was yanked forward and lips crashed into his.

Rave tasted of wine and smelled like oak. Hands were clutching at his chest eagerly, soft lips moving languidly with his own, molding against them. Nat wasn't really aware of Rave pushing the door shut, but once he noticed it was shut, he grabbed Rave's shoulders and physically turned him, flipping them around and pushing the brunet against the door. He pinned him there as his tongue parted Rave's lips, the sharp, lingering taste of alcohol hitting his taste buds full-force. The lithe body writhing against his own spurred him on, and his teeth ensnared Rave's lower lip, earning a desperate whimper from the other. They parted, harsh breath the only sound in the apartment for a short span of time.

"Damn, did I miss that."

With a small noise in the form of "tch", Rave grabbed Nat's wrist and pulled him from the entryway. Through another door and they arrived in a spacious bedroom. A wall of books sat on the left, an easel in the furthest corner, and a king-sized bed with its headboard against the right wall.

Rave's hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt once more, just below his collar, and lips met his again. The kiss was slower this time; more sensual and passionate, and Nat's hands wandered over the planes of Rave's body, following each curve and dip beneath the cloth of Rave's sweater. God, how he had missed touching him.

Before Nat realized where Rave's hand was even headed, the brunet was palming his hardening cock through his pants fearlessly. Nat groaned as Rave fumbled with the button of his slacks.

"Rave, should you really be doin' this?" he murmured, watching his own pants being tugged down from his thighs, along with the briefs, to pool around his ankles. Rave's body followed the action, knees coming to rest on the wood of the floor. Nat wanted this – fuck, did he want this – but he certainly didn't want a more sober Rave hating him tomorrow. He watched Rave eye his already leaking cock.

"Just stop fucking talking, Goldberg."

With that, Rave's slender fingers wrapped around the base, his touch pleasantly cool, and a tongue darted out to taste the precum from the tip. A strained whimper fell from Nat's mouth at the combination of the sight and the feel. Without much hesitation, Rave took the head between his lips, devious tongue getting right to work. Nat's head tipped back, eyes slipping shut as they rolled up and he uttered a moan of pleasure. It felt even better than he remembered. Once of his hands lifted to thread fingers through burgundy locks, and he was pleasantly surprised when Rave didn't swat his hand away.

After just a few short minutes, Nat's knees felt as if they would buckle underneath his weight. Panting in the stale air of the dim bedroom, Nat's fingers tightened in Rave's hair warningly, but the actor didn't pull away. Unable to stop it, Nat's orgasm hit him like a tsunami, washing over him euphorically as he came into the eager mouth below. And, just as soon as it had approached and come, it was over, leaving his limbs to tingle and his legs to feel like jelly. Taking one stumbling step backwards, he flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, dazed. Smirking, Rave stood and crawled over him like a cat to its cornered and injured prey. He kissed him, and Nat didn't mind the taste. In his blissed-out state, he didn't really mind anything.

"Your stamina has certainly decreased. Have you lost your charm, Nathan? Not getting any lately?"

Nat smirked lazily at Rave's teasing words. "S'you," he murmured shortly in response.

With a smug grin, the brunet slithered down Nat's body to nibble at his throat. A shudder rippled up Nat's spine. "After you rest a bit," Rave paused to whisper, "then it's my turn."

Nat didn't have the chance to reply, for the sound of a door being shoved shut momentarily froze the both of them. Before Nat could even comprehend or respond, Rave had pulled him up off the bed and shoved him into the closet with his clothes bundled in his arms. Nat caught a glimpse of golden-brown eyes, wide and panicked, before he put a finger to his lips.

"James?"

Rave shut the closet door and Nat was submerged in near-darkness. 'Samuel.' Staying as still as possible, he strained to hear their conversation.

"Where did you go?" The tone was suspicious. 'His clothes.'

"Just out with some friends from the play. We went to dinner." 'Not a complete lie,' Nat reasoned.

"A few friends, huh?" There was a pause. "What are these?" Another pause, this one longer.

"I..."

"Who are the flowers from, James?"

"Just my co-stars–"

"Bullshit!" Nat jumped at the loud crash of glass on tile. "Who's in here?!" Heavy footsteps entered the room beside the bedroom. "Huh? Who are you fucking behind my back, you little tramp?!"

"Samuel, there's nobody here–" Rave pleaded.

"Then who the fuck are the flowers from?"

"I already told you–..."

Stomping footsteps approached, obviously inside the bedroom. Nat held his breath, clutching his pants and underwear against his abdomen.

"Samuel. Samuel, come here." A pause. "Listen, I'll clean up the mess in the kitchen and then we'll watch one of your favorite films. Just the two of us." After a moment, the pair of footsteps began to retreat. "But would you take the broken glass downstairs for me? You know how I hate going down there at night."

"... Yeah."

Silence followed, broken by the occasional clink of glass. Nat stepped into his briefs and pants silently, dressing himself. A muffled voice caught his attention.

"Be back in a minute."

The sound of the front door closing ensued, and Nat heard hurried footsteps on the wooden floorboards. He opened the door cautiously, coming face-to-face with a slightly red-eyed Rave.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Come on, hurry." Rave grasped his wrist, pulling him from the closet and out of the bedroom.

"Rave, that guy is a total asshole. I'm not leaving you here with him."

"I'll be fine, Nathan. You have to go, now. Take a left at the end of the hallway and go down the back exit. He won't see you–"

Nat turned as Rave pushed him out the front door. "No, Rave. I'm not gonna leave you here with–"

"I can fucking take care of myself, Nathan."

Rave's words were firm, but his expression didn't match and his hands trembled. Nat met his uneasy gaze. "You sure?"

"... Yes."

Nat hesitated only a moment longer before leaning forward and capturing those soft, thin lips in one last kiss. "Bye James," he whispered. He turned, following Rave's directions, and made his way down the stairs. Lingering at the back of the building for a few extra minutes, he finally headed across the grass to the lot where his car was parked.

He knew he should have been expecting something like this. Rave was right; perfect guys didn't exist. He slid into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him, and inhaled deeply.

'I'm gonna need a beer or two tonight.'