Rocinante Flugslys moved out of his parents house the moment he was legally able to. There were just certain things in his life that his parents simply could never accept, and he'd come to terms with that. He'd come to understand that his mother and father would not tolerate him under their roof if he came out and told them the truth about himself.

So he didn't.

He never told them about his fascination with Japanese anime, he never told them about wearing women's underwear, and he CERTAINLY never told them he was gay.

The anime was probably the least of his worries. He was just a bit embarrassed by all the absurdist and sexual humor. He doubted his strict Catholic family would approve.

Although in hindsight, it might've given a better explanation as to why he spent so much time locked in his room.

The real reason for that was the other thing he kept from his parents. His prefered undergarments.

His mother had made him go to the mall for her once while his father was at work and she was stuck cooking dinner, and she'd asked him to pick her up a pack of panties. Nothing gaudy or revealing, she was far too modest for that, even in marriage. But Rocinante felt the odd urge to wear them himself. So, he paid for the extra pack and snuck it in with a bag filled with chips and magazines. Typical teenage treasures.

He slipped them on nervously, confused as to why he felt the need to wear them. But he found them very comfortable. Much softer than his usual briefs. The lack of space didn't bother him, if anything it made them feel snug on his body. He started to take over laundry duty so that his mother never came across them. She seemed to appreciate one less thing on her plate. His father rolled his eyes and called it "women's work," but it was obvious he was also grateful that his son took up a household chore without even being asked.

Now that Flug was out on his own, he'd taken things up a notch. Instead of just plain panties from the mall, he would sometimes go into lingerie shops and pick out things that caught his eye. He found a particular fondness for lace, and even broadened his horizons by adding stockings, garter belts, and one or two corsets to his wardrobe. Bralettes, as well as anything else that wasn't waist-level or below, just didn't have the same appeal.

The final divide between his parents and himself, the thing they'd never in a million years accept from him, was his sexuality.

There was no sudden moment where he realized he wasn't attracted to girls. No gay experience that turned him queer. No mistaken moment of passion that felt so wrong but so right.

It was just...he noticed a boy in gym class. Noticed him as if he had never seen another male before. And then another. And a few others. Nothing like a crush, it was just Rocinante taking notice of the other boys around him.

He noticed how the girls were changing. But they stirred nothing within him. But the boys…

They made him...warm.

It was like being wrapped up in an electric blanket. It was a warmth that started at the very core of his being and spread its way throughout his body before finally reaching his arms and making his hair stand on end.

Like being struck by lightning and not getting hurt.

His strict Catholic parents would never have it. They most likely wouldn't even consider it an experimental phase, but as a sin worthy of kicking out and cutting off their one and only son.

So he never told them. He focused on his studies, rolled his eyes at his father's playful jokes about all the college girls looking for a smart young man, and acted like he was no different from any other straight male.

At his new home, the cheap little apartment he afforded with the help of his parents and part of his part-time salary, he walked around leisurely in panties, stockings, and occasionally, when he was feeling daring, something closer to lingerie. Or all of it. It wasn't like anyone was going to stop him in his own home.

No one ever stopped by or visited either. Rocinante Flugslys had the social life of a hermit crab. He went to class, he stopped by the Robotics Lab as often as he could, he went to work his part-time shifts, and he went home.

The extent of his social interaction was his Engineering Club. He was one of their chief inventors after all. He tried to show up whenever he could for as long as he could. The club was always trying to come up with new inventions to aid their fellow heroes in the fight against the forces of evil.

Oh yeah, Flug thought groggily. The forces of evil just offered me a job in their start-up company last night.

Flug walked around his kitchen in nothing but an old over-sized T-shirt and his typical undergarments. The shirt was a faded blue with the remnants of an airplane design on the front. His choppy light brown hair was sticking up in odd places all around his head, as if he'd been tossing and turning against the sheets all night.

"No more coffee before bed," He mumbled to himself, while he put in seven scoops of coffee grounds into his coffee maker.

It was safe to say he was developing a caffeine addiction. He could barely function a day without having at least a cup of the stuff in the morning. And maybe a few more cups throughout the day...And it was steadily taking more and more coffee to have any sort of effect on him.

While he waited for his morning cup of Joe he actually got dressed. Switching the black lace panties for a satin red pair. And switching to red fishnet stockings that he clipped up to his thighs with the garter belt.

Then he put on his ACTUAL clothes. Which were the normal jeans and a T-Shirt.

But having his panties and stockings on under when no one was the wiser made him feel alive.

The majority of the rest of the day was a blur. Morning shift, go back home to get his books, coffee break, afternoon class, quick lunch (with espresso), next class, and then he could finally rest and relax for the evening by going to his favorite place on campus; the Robotics Lab.

The Robotics Lab of UNEHVM (just rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?) was the primary meeting place of both the Robotics and the Engineering Clubs. They tried to alternate the days they'd be in there, so that they had the lab mostly to themselves and it wasn't as hectic, which didn't always work out but for the most part it was a system that worked.

Today the Engineering Club had the lab(along with anyone who needed to work on a class project), and according to the schedule posted by the door they had claimed it for the next two days as well.

Nice! Flug thought. We could actually make some real progress!

Flug didn't work well with what he called "rented space". It was hard for him to focus when he knew he could only stay in one place for so long. He really hated packing up projects and moving them. It was such a hassle.

Oddly enough it was the exact opposite with deadlines. Having an limited time for his project was no problem as long as he didn't have to move. He was perfectly capable of sitting in one spot for hours to get something done in time. He'd even started timing his bathroom and coffee breaks to ensure the majority of his time was spent working. If his memory was right, his smallest total break time was about seven minutes out of ten hour work session.

Some would call this insanity. Flug called it his work ethic.

He really couldn't stand to leave things unfinished. He only stopped working when the project was done or he'd made a breakthrough big enough to justify a few hours sleep.

There were also the times where he passed out, but that's besides the point.

The current project of the Engineering Club was their collaboration with the so-called "Gifted" program. One Flug had no problem with, except for one man.

Aurelio Cruz.

Lio, to his friends.

Flug was not one of his friends.

Cruz was someone Flug had known (or rather, known of) since middle school. That was when the "Gifted" people started to really show off.

To be blunt, Aurelio had an ability. A superpower. A Gift.

And boy did he make sure everyone around him knew it.

He was the kind of guy who walked around like he owned the place, no matter where he was. The kind of guy who thinks he's God's gift to women. The kind of guy to put #bendito on every one of his selfies unironically.

Not that Flug looked at his selfies. Or even followed him. On social media, that is! He didn't follow him around in real life either! He was sure Aurelio Cruz had no idea he even existed!

Until, of course, the Engineering Club Jefe announced their collaboration with a few of the Gifted students. And he just happened to be one of them.

The project itself was actually something Flug was interested in. During the Fall semester, their goal would be to design a device capable of subduing at least one of their fellow students. Flug made it his personal goal to subdue at least five of the twenty subjects who were participating.

Did devices made to subdue individuals with gifts already exist? Yes.

Had anyone in the club built one from scratch before? No.

And that's where the intrigue and the fun came from. They would actually get a chance to build something really significant this time! Flug's mind was flooded with ideas of how to incapacitate his fellow students. As they filed in one by one the day their little project was announced, he was already taking mental notes of them and the best ways to counteract their gifts.

Oh her, that's...that's Natalia! Her gift was super speed, wasn't it? Maybe something that wraps around her legs, trips her up...or something like oil slick. But sticky! So she can't move her legs! Actually why stop there? Something to totally bind her body...

Oh uh, Rodriguez! Invisibility! That'll be tricky. I'll need a proper way to locate him first, infrared? And then, what, cover him in flour? No, no, no, not good enough.

Ok I actually don't know her, or her gift. Nice shoes though.

Jason Mendez, controls wind. Maybe studying his winds like a tornado will give me some- no wait that's it! Something he picks up using his gift (like a tornado) that traps him. And it should also be airtight, so that he can't use his winds to escape!

Don't know her name, but going from all the hair and the spots, I'd say she's a cheetah hybrid. So she's most likely very fast, but also has very low stamina. I should take advantage of that.

And then HE strutted in. Like he was walking down the damn red carpet.

Thick, jet black hair that was oiled and slicked back except for that one bunch of curls that seemed to dangle just perfectly right at his eye level. His chiseled face with deep green eyes that contrasted marvelously with his deep tan, the long eyelashes, the perfect shape of his lips, and the stubble on his chin that was just the perfect middle ground between being well-kept and rugged, that lined his jawline that was so sharp iT COULD CUT THINGS!

His body, although not flaunted (as much) that day, was also clearly as chiseled as his face. Maybe more so, if that was even possible when you have the face of Narcissus.

Ok it was possibly. The man had the body of Adonis.

Even beneath a plain black dress shirt and dark blue jeans, he just seemed so...large.

So intimidating. So masculine.

So...HOT.

Flug stopped paying attention to their subjects after that. There were a few more people whose names and gifts he knew, but he hardly noticed them. Just a very short note in his mind.

Monica, anti-gravity.

Stephanie, light manipulation.

Eric, acidic fluids. Messy.

Nothing was taking away his focus on the man who waltz into the peaceful lab Flug spent his free time in. Nothing.

Aurelio Cruz.

His gift wasn't telekinesis. But then again it kind of was.

His Gift was the ability to control another person's body through touch. It was like once he touched you, it didn't matter what else happened. Your body was his. He touched you, it didn't matter where or how or for how long as long as it was skin on skin, and he could move your body with his mind.

The only surefire way people knew to counteract this was to get out of his range. He had a relatively low sphere of control, only about five meters, so he couldn't do things like amass an entire army or send someone to attack another person.

Well, not if the other person was far away enough. And Aurelio didn't go as well.

All of that was a few weeks ago. While Flug still loved going to the Robotics Lab and still loved working on their big project (it wasn't coming very smoothly but hey where would the fun be if it did?), knowing that Aurelio might be there always made his heart beat about 6000 times faster than usual.

He wasn't always there. In fact, he was hardly ever there. He had things to do, apparently. Things that were more important than participating in a project he signed up for and agreed he would be a part of.

But sometimes he was there. Sometimes he even took notice of Flug. Nothing special. Nothing more than a casual "Hey, hermano" or "How's it coming?", but he did it. He actually spoke to him.

Usually Flug would mumble a response or wave at him, hoping he didn't look weird your face is covered in scars and you have dorky glasses of course you look weird, and Flug thought maybe things weren't so bad.

Today, he was there.

Today, he was using his gift.

That wasn't odd, they'd been having their volunteers use their gifts all the time. To get a better understanding of how they worked, it was best they saw them firsthand.

Or in Aurelio's case, experienced.

It was another member of the Engineering Club. Tesoro. A bright and bubbly girl with curly auburn hair with streaks of blonde. She didn't seem bubbly now. Now she seemed almost scared.

Aurelio was clearly too close for comfort. Her panicked expression as he closed the gap between them slowly was evident. No one else did anything. They all seemed frozen in place, transfixed on the scene before them.

Flug didn't think. He just blurted out "Aurel-l-l-li-o!"

The man in question lifted his head, a look of confusion and mild irritation on his face.

Oh geez he heard me stutter. Flug thought, covering his mouth. Wait, never mind that! Do something!

"U-u-um, since y-you're finally sho-w-w-w-wing us your gift...could I be next?" He meekly said, his voice squeaking embarrassingly at the end.

Aurelio stared at him for a second, apparently trying to process what this skinny little man was asking, beforing grinning widely, like Finally someone gets it.

"Well of course you can hermano." He said, releasing Tesoro. Tesoro immediately ran towards the Jefe, Manuel, who seemed still stuck in place gripping his notepad weakly.

Madre de Dios, ¿por qué dije eso? Flug thought.

Aurelio swiftly walked towards him, quickly closing the distance between the two of them. Leaving Flug very little time to ponder this actions, his mental health, or what his next move was.

Aurelio took it upon himself to make the next move, grabbing Flug by the wrist and swiftly pulling their bodies close together.

Por favor Jesús déjame pasar este día.

And then Flug was left staring up into his green eyes, noticing the occasional hues of blue in them. The self assured grin that screamed I'm the best thing in this room right now, and I'll continue to be until I leave. Then I'll be the best thing in that room.

"Hermanito," Aurelio said with a voice of gold. "I don't believe I ever got your name."

"Roc-Rocinante Flugslys."

"Rocinante," it spilled from his mouth like a velvet curtain. "Very nice."

Flug swallowed deep. I'd like to swallow something else if you know wha- STOP STOP STOP

Flug swore that if all the blood in his body wasn't headed south, his face would be as red as a tomato.

"Tell me, Rocinante, do you play?" He asked.

"Play? An instrument? No." Flug replied between gasping breaths. It was getting harder and harder to breathe the longer he was so close to him. Seriously, why was he so close!? Flug was certain that all it took was the faintest bit of skin contact and his gift could take effect.

Wait, was it working NOW? Was the pressure in his chest (and parts beyond) Aurelio's doing?

Aurelio himself nodded. Then let Flug go. Flug noticed that he still could not move. He was frozen, like a statue. A very sweaty statue.

Aurelio took a few steps towards the rest of the group. The very useless group of people who did nothing against this man when he was CLEARLY making a woman uncomfortable, and had left the meek Rocinante Flugslys to step in alone.

Seriously people, he thought. I gave you a distraction. Couldn't one of you do anything? Some back-up would be nice.

Said Flugslys found his legs moving of their own accord, trailing behind Aurelio like a lost puppy. Making sure he stayed within range, he guessed.

"Tomas!" Aurelio called, gesturing to the telekinetic boy floating himself and his guitar about two meters above them. Tomas was a musician deep down, and always brought his guitar with him wherever he was able. It wasn't a hassle, in fact it was quite nice having some soothing acoustic ambience music whenever he was around.

"What Lio?"

"Toss me your guitar."

"You break it you buy it." Tomas said seriously. Flug got the feeling he would hold every person in the room responsible if anyone so much as chipped his guitar.

And Flug had a sinking feeling that it would be him.

"I'll barely touch it."

"Hmph," Tomas launched his guitar towards Aurelio and Flug. Flug's body moved him in front of Aurelio in seconds. Flug had a brief moment of panic and thought that Aurelio was going to use him as a human shield against the musical missile. Hey, it actually wouldn't have been the first time he'd done that with someone.

Not that Flug knew anything about that.

Instead of taking a guitar to the face, his arm whipped out and caught the instrument by the...whatever the part with the strings was called. The neck? He didn't know. What he did know was that his palm hurt like hell and the strings were digging into his fingers.

Flug let out a brief yelp of pain, and only NOW were people starting to look like maybe they should intervene.

"Relax, hermano." Aurelio said, patting him on the shoulder. "I've done this dozens of times."

Yes, I know. This and things way way worse.

Flug took one end of the guitar in his left hand and started strumming the thing. He couldn't say what notes or chords or whatever it was he was playing, he'd never been interested in learning about music, but it sounded good.

"Aurelio?"

"Yes?"

"D-do you know how to play the guitar?" Flug asked even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, I do. I played for many years. It never really leaves you."

"I-is that how you can make me p-p-play it? Since you know how?"

Aurelio paused here. He looked at Flug quizzically. "What do you mean, hermano?"

"I mean, c-could you make me play an instrument you don't know how to play?"

Another pause.

"I...actually don't know." He finally answered. "Tomas! Do you have any other instruments with you?"

"No, I don't." Tomas said, lowering himself to the ground. "And can I have that back now? His fingernails are going to wear out the strings. No offense, guy."

"None taken," Flug said.

Flug's hands stopped playing the guitar Another observation, Aurelio can control people and hold conversations at the same time. So he might be able to do certain actions subconsciously and he held it out loosely. It was picked out of his hand by an unseen force (Tomas) and Flug was left standing empty-handed.

"Anyone else?" Aurelio asked the room. "Anyone got an instrument with them?"

The girl Flug didn't know at first, the one with the nice shoes, spoke up. "I got a flute." She held up the black instrument case. "Do you know how to play the flute, Lio?"

He smiled. "I do not. Bring it here, bring it here!"

The girl (who Flug had been introduced to but for the life of him he couldn't remember her name) made her way over and assembled her flute. He noticed that she took extra care to wipe off the mouthpiece. Flug was thankful for that. While he wasn't a germaphobe he didn't want to go swapping spit with some stranger.

The girl handed the flute to Aurelio, trying her best to stay out of his reach. Flug was pretty sure she was still in it, though. He had a long reach. Aurelio took the flute from her gracefully (because this man could trip on a banana peel and it would still look like something out of a ballet) and placed it in Flug's open palms.

Flug's hands moved around the thing, trying to figure out where they were supposed to be and what fingers were supposed to cover what holes. He couldn't move them of his own free will but he still felt them. The hand that had caught the guitar was still sore, and it wasn't doing him any favors to just move it willy-nilly like it was.

Hurt someone, then move their body. They feel the pain but can do nothing to stop themselves. Diabolical.

At last his hands seemed to have found a position they were comfortable with. Or rather, Aurelio figured that it looked alright to him.

Flug raised the flute to his lips. His lips puckered a bit and…

...nothing happened.

After a moment of silence, Flug himself gave an experimental blow. A horrible screeching sound came from the instrument. Everyone covered their ears, including Aurelio, who had the misfortune of being right next to Flug.

The flute was lowered from his lips. Aurelio grabbed it from his hands and went to give it back to the girl. Brenda? No, that's not right.

Flug felt himself become in control of his body again. He wasted no time in running away from the spot in front of everyone and finding solace in retreating to his work station.

Well, not his work station specifically, it wasn't like he owned it or it had dibs. Well, he kind of had dibs. It was his favorite desk in the lab. Mainly because it was out of the way of all the other desks. It gave him a bit of solitude, which he worked best with.

He jotted down notes rapidly. Notes always calmed him.

Effective range: 5 meters.

Extent: Movement. Bodily functions questionable.

Limits: What he can do/knows how to do

Method: Skin-skin contact.

Counter: Cover skin. Block contact. Stay 5m away. Do not enter range.

Containment: Metal? Plastic? Fabric? Latex?

Ok the image of Aurelio Cruz in latex was NOT one Flug needed at the moment! If it came to him at night in bed however, that was no ones business but his own…

"I see you waste no time, eh?" said a voice from behind him.

Flug nearly lept to the ceiling (which would've been impressive seeing as it was ten meters high), and given the owner of the voice, he might've been safer if he had.

Aurelio was looming behind him. He was smiling, but it wasn't a nice smile. Nothing like the faux friendliness or relaxed easy going nature of his usual smile. It was the kind of smile that said You made me look bad. I will not let that stand.

"O-o-oh u-u-um, y-yeah I guess so," Flug muttered back. Oh god he was making a complete fool of himself! Why was it so hard to form a coherent sentence?!

It had started in high school. Freshman year to be exact. While he had never been a popular guy, he had never really been picked on before. He supposed he'd blended into the background during elementary and middle school. Wasn't worth noticing.

For whatever reason, that changed as early as the first day.

That's when his speech impediment began. There was nothing physically wrong with his body or brain, it was something more mental. Psychosomatic. All in his head. He could speak perfectly fine. Until he couldn't. Which was usually when he was nervous or scared or anxious or around people he wasn't comfortable with or-

You get the idea.

And he had stopped it. For two years he had gone without a single stutter! Two years! He had stopped talking completely because of his accident (the one that gave him the scars), and when he finally felt comfortable enough to speak, it was clear. Concise. Smooth. Easy. And he'd felt like he had finally kicked it for good.

Until the man called Black Hat had randomly asked him out for coffee (not in that way!), gotten pissed when Flug insulted his "take over the world!" dream, and caused a relapse.

God why? What did I do to deserve this? Is it because I'm gay? Was it Julio? I'll have you know I didn't go far with Julio not after-

"You really get straight to the point, don't you?" Aurelio asked, shaking Flug out of his thoughts. He realized he was reading his notes from over his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh, w-w-well, yeah. I mean, if I spent t-time on w-w-w-w-writing it would just be less time act-t-tually working, yeah?" He rambled on in his typical way.

"Mmm, I see." Aurelio said. That predatory look in his deep green eyes was still there. "Latex, though? You're more kinky than I thought."

Flug probably turned bright red. Probably. His entire body went numb so he couldn't really tell. "O-O-OH! No! No no no n-n-not at all!" He shook his head vigorously. "I'm not i-into anything like t-that!"

Yeah I'm into wearing fishnets and sexy underwear. Latex isn't really my thing.

A thought popped into his head. A question about Aurelio he honestly didn't know for a change.

"Aurelio?"

"Yes?"

"When you take control of a person, is it...does it only…" He struggled to find the right words to describe what he was trying to ask. He figured maybe explaining it further would help.

"You touch a person. As long as they're within your range you can control them about as much as you want, right?" Aurelio nodded. "When they get out of range, they get control back." It wasn't a question, but Aurelio nodded again to confirm. "If they get within range again, can you still control them or do you have to touch them again?"

The reason that Flug didn't know the answer to this question, was actually very simple if you think about it from the point of view of someone who'd been controlled by Aurelio. Which he now qualified as.

People who Aurelio had controlled tended to never get within range again. Going to extremes to make sure they were never so much as in the same room with him, if it was possible. Seat changes, class transfers, school transfers, there was even a rumor of one kid who up and left Mexico just to make sure he was never near him again.

Of course, no one could prove that last one. Except for those select few who were either dumb enough or insane enough to qualify as his friends, no one stuck around him for long.

And unlike the instrument test, which was something Aurelio had never tried to do, Flug was sure he had tried to control people again.

The man in question gave Flug a puzzled look. Like the question was something kind of weird and odd. Like Flug has done something out of the ordinary. Had no one asked him this before? Was Flug the first to work up the nerve?

Flug could feel himself begin to sweat under the pressure of his gaze. He unconsciously shifted back and forth in his seat.

"You didn't stutter.' Aurelio finally said.

"H-huh?" Flug asked, stuttering again.

"You didn't stutter." He repeated. "Not even once."

Flug thought about it. No, as a matter of fact he HADN'T stuttered. Not once! He had said complete sentences! Multiple!

"W-well the stutter is j-just like my nervous tick, I guess you could say." Flug said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "I actually haven't stuttered in a while, till recently."

"Hermano," Aurelio said, taking his hand. "You don't need to be nervous around me." He winked.

Flug thought he would faint, what with every drop of blood rushing either to his cheeks or down his pants. But then Aurelio stopped for a second, noticing something on Flug's hand.

Huh, what was that? It looked like a phone numb-

OH. Black Hat.

Black Hat's phone number.

It occured to Flug then that he hadn't showered that morning. As a matter of fact he wasn't certain when his last shower was. Oh God what did he smell like?

And now Aurelio Cruz, the hottest thing to grace the Earth since magma first flowed on the surface, is staring at some random phone number on Flug's (probably sweaty) wrist like Flug actually has a date. Or a social life. Or does anything besides work, study, and continue working.

Well ok, he goes out for coffee with future supervillains but that was just a one time thing!

Or was it?

Crap, Aurelio is still staring. And it looks like he wants some kind of explanation.

Uh…

UH….

UHHHHHH…!

"Uhhhhh oh! Oh I almost forgot!" Flug practically screamed, trying not to look like he was fleeing for his life. And failing miserably. "I was supposed to meet one of my, uh, friends! For coffee! W-what time is it?" He pulled out his phone dramatically. "Oh, w-would you look at that? I'm late! I better not keep him waiting! S-s-see you guys later!"

And with that Flug damn near sprinted out of the room.

Leaving everyone in it incredibly confused.

His fellow club members were confused because they knew he would often spend hours longer than anyone else in the lab. He never made plans to be elsewhere.

The Gifted students were confused because the weird little guy who'd been quiet until today had suddenly, in the course of a few minutes, made the biggest scene since the great Paper Plate Incident (which will be mentioned later).

And Aurelio. He was confused because, well, that boy just RAN from him.

Usually people did not flee so quickly. Or openly.

He wanted to spend more time with that one. He was smart, but unsure of himself. He asked all the right questions, the ones others were too scared to. Like a clever insect. He went in, got what he needed, and fled.

Oh, and he never did answer his last question, did he?

Yes, they would have to spend more time together, he and this Rocinante Flugslys.

After sprinting halfway across the campus, only stopping there to catch his breath, Flug began to think.

Why on Earth did he do that?

Why was Aurelio Cruz paying attention to HIM of all people?

Why did he do THAT?

Did he really just let someone chase him out of the Robotics Lab? His favorite spot on campus?

What was he going to say to everyone next time he saw them?

Could he really bring himself to show his face back there?

Also, where was his book bag?

After a brief moment of panic, Flug rationalized that he probably left it in the Robotics Lab in his hurry to escape.

Well, now he HAD to go back. Eventually.

It was only about a quarter to six, still early.

Not a bad time for a cup of coffee.

Which reminded him…

After checking that he still had his wallet with him, he went ahead and dialed the number scrawled on his hand. He hoped he hadn't misread it, or it was going to be an awkward night trying to explain that he got stood up within the span of two minutes.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

Oh goddamn it did Black Hat have a class right now?

Ring…

Rin- Click!

"Hello?" asked a familiar raspy and garbled voice.

"Black Hat. It's me, Flug."

"Oh Flug!" The dark suited man said enthusiastically. "I was starting to think you wouldn't call! So, have you thought over my offer?"

Flug could practically hear the man's excited grin through his words. "I've thought about it yes," he said, lying. He'd honestly tried all day not to think about it, but it would pop up then and again in his mind. Like an essay you try desperately to put off until the last minute. The more you try and get your mind off it, the more you worry about it. It didn't make him any more sure of his ultimate decision.

"Oh bene bene!" Black Hat exclaimed. Flug had...absolutely no clue what it meant. He sounded happy though. "So, tell me, will you accept?"

"Before I do, I want to see you again." Flug said. The one thing he was sure of was that this needed to be done in person. "Same coffee shop as before?"

"Sure, sure!" Black Hat responded. "Just give me a few minutes, I'll be there soon! Get me my coffee, black!" He then hung up.

Flug sighed. His heart felt heavy in his chest and his feet felt like lead. His hand was still sore, too. But no matter what, he was seeing this man again. And he would get answers from him.

He needed to be sure he knew just what it was he in for, should he agree.

Notes:

Well, chapter two here we are! My goal is to update once or twice a month at no particular schedule. I've finished three, just fyi, I'm just going to edit it until I'm sasified. Expect it in January.

Translations:

#bendito = #blessed (Spanish)

hermano = brother (Aurelio is like that one frat guy who calls everyone "bro")

Madre de Dios, ¿por qué dije eso? = Mother of God, why did I say that? (Spanish)

Por favor Jesús déjame pasar este día = Please Jesus let me get through this day (Spanish)

bene = good (Italian)