As it turned out, Leo had family just across the bridge in Oakland. Sundays were reserved for family affairs for Leo, and given that they had a study session the morning of, Leo turned to Ray and asked if he wanted to join.

"I used to play the drums, so there's a set in the garage," Leo explained.

"I never learned the drums," he confessed, but he knew how to play the guitar and even owned an electric guitar and amp, so they packed it into the back of Leo's mom's car and headed to Oakland for the day.

"Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys today, Mrs. Umi and—um, Miss Umi," Ray said as joined Leo in the car. He glanced over at Leo for approval, and Leo gave him a thumbs up. Two moms made it difficult to tell them apart, and Ray's upbringing prevented him from using a strictly first-name basis with his friends' parents.

"You're always welcome," Miss Umi said from the passenger's seat. She beamed at Ray before her wife put the car into drive and, still halted on the side of the road, pointed a finger at them through the rear view mirror and said, "This car isn't movin' 'till both of you buckle up."

Leo groaned and said, "Yeesh, Mama..."

Ray looped the buckle across his chest and clicked it in, saying, "Safety first."

The SUV traveled over the Bay Bridge with Alcatraz off in the distance among the waves and the tourist boats traveling to and from the Golden Gate. It was a relatively clear day, which brought color to the sky for once—a crystal blue that shined with the sun on the surface of the Bay. Ray looked to Leo, who beamed back at him as the two of them watched the Oakland shore sweep beneath them.

It was the perfect day for Ray to escape everything—the apartment... Xavier... Sora...

Hold on, Ray thought, a hand to his head. When did Sora get in there? Nope, not thinking about it. Definitely not thinking about it.

"What're you thinking about?" Leo said, head tipped to the side. "Ya look kinda constipated there."

Ray snorted, scoffed, and said, "I am not thinking."

"For some reason I thought you were gonna keep going. Not thinking... about...?"

"Who needs to think when it's Sunday and I finished all my homework yesterday?" Ray said with a nervous laugh, but it was true. After getting back from the walk with Xavier, Ray holed himself up in his room, finished his homework, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening watching Netflix.

Which was precisely why Sora woke up that morning and simply thought that Ray was still in his room when, in fact, Ray was long gone and already in Oakland plugging in his amp to an outlet in Leo's parents' garage.

Sora rubbed at his bedhead and checked the time on the stove. It was already noon and, after a total of seven hours of sleep, he was ready to collapse again. He couldn't deny, however, that his mind kept reeling back to buying the flower bouquet. Clearly, he crossed a line, and now he couldn't help but concern himself with it. The guilt was eating him alive.

So Sora went to Ray's bedroom door and, after hesitating, and then getting down on the ground to try and peek under the door for activity, decided to knock.

No answer.

Well, since I knocked once I might as well knock again, he thought, and so he did. He knocked several more times before determining that Ray was either furious with him, or not in the apartment.

He reached for the handle.

His eyes went back to the refrigerator, where the roommate agreement used to be. It was still in the drawer Ray left it in when Xavier came through. Sora sighed and went to pin it back up, thinking to himself about how, at the very least, he needed to maintain the rules if Ray was going to go breaking them.

He stuck the magnets on the top corners of the sheet. He busied himself with breakfast, but his attention kept sliding over to Ray's room. Worry oozed out of every pore of his body. He felt conjested with it, his chest tight.

As he sat at the kitchen table, facing their rooms, Sora slumped to the side with a groan of resentment for himself. Why did he have to get flowers? Sure, Ray said he always wanted flowers, but something wasn't right about this time.

He pushed to his feet and hurried to Ray's door. There, he turned the handle, his eyes flitting back to the foyer. His luck dictated that Ray would walk in at that very moment, but he didn't, and so Sora proceeded.

The door creaked on its hinges when Sora pulled it open. He peered in, saying, "Ray? You there?" but there was no answer.

The lights were off, but the window illuminated the ruffled sheets and the empty space on the bed where Ray had slept the night before. There were clothes on the ground, in little bundles—like Ray shimmed out of his clothes all in one step and left them where they fell each day. Melvin 2.0 was on display in the corner of the room, and an empty guitar stand sat next to it in the shadows.

Sora sighed. So he isn't here, he determined, and went to close the door. His eyes caught on Ray's desk, though, where the culprit sat, still wrapped, on the wood.

The white roses.

The idiot didn't even put them in a vase, Sora thought, slapping his hand to his side. He went into the room and snatched them off of the desk, only to hesitate.

If he put them in a vase now, Ray would know that he was in here, right?

The roses were already wilting, though, to Sora started taking off the plastic wrapping and brought it into the kitchen where he dug around their kitchen supplies for something similar to a vase.

The closest thing he could find was a mason jar, so he filled it with water. The height of the flowers sent the mason jar wobbling, so he clipped the stems before slipping them into the mason jar. He arranged the eucalyptus just so... and there. It was perfect.

He went back to Ray's room with the mason jar of flowers. The rose petals were limp, but by the end of the day, they would be firm and soft again where Sora left them on Ray's desk. After shutting Ray's door, he went back to his breakfast, and decided to ignore whatever lingering concerns he had about Ray.

Meanwhile, in Oakland, Mrs. and Miss Umi were on the couch in their garage eating crackers and hummus while Ray and Leo serenaded them via classic 2000s music.

"You'll say... the world's come between us... Our lives have come between us—Still I know you just don't care," Ray sang into the nonexistent microphone stand, which was just a t-ball stand propped up on a box. His eyes dropped to the strings on his guitar, strumming faster as the chorus approached fast to merge with the succession of Leo's percussion crashing into a smooth beat.

Ray slammed his foot down, belting out, "And I said! 'What about! Breakfast at Tiffany's!' And she said—'I think I—remember the film and—as I recall, I think we both kinda liked it!'

"'And I said, 'Well that's—ONE THING WE'VE GOT!'"

He spun, shimmying his shoulders with every swift downstroke on the guitar. In doing so, though, he was wound up in the cord attached to his guitar—curses, those damn electric guitars, and he would have tumbled and tripped straight over it as he shouted in terror.

He reversed the spin and stepped out of the snare of cords, giggling and looking back at Leo, who stilled a hand over the cymbals and said, "I see why you stick to acoustics now."

"I'm antsy! I can't help it," Ray said, kicking the cord. "And also, it's kinda hard to be quiet with an electric guitar around the apartment."

"It's not like you've got roommates," Leo said. "You wouldn't be bothering anyone."

"Yeah, except my neighbors," Ray muttered with a huff, pouting down at his guitar.

"I hear you've practically got yourself a roommate," Miss Umi teased from the couch, and Mrs. Umi nudged her in the arm, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

It took a second for Ray to catch on. His cheeks flushed red, reminded of how Leo and Huey witnessed Sora leaving the apartment. He turned, eyes wide, to look at Leo, who blushed, caught snitching.

"Y-You told your parents about me and—!" Ray squeaked.

Leo yelped. "I-I tell them everything! They know all about Sora!"

Both of his parents nodded resolutely because yes, it was true they knew everything about Sora that Leo knew. Miss Umi pulled her phone out to show Ray, "See? I follow that sweet journalist—Alice, right?"

"Right!" Leo chimed, tapping his drumsticks together. He stopped when Ray turned to frown at him. Leo winced, grimaced, and said, "Sorry..."

"It's okay," Ray sighed.

Leo perked up. "Oh! But you said there was more to the story. I'm still waiting on that, mister."

"And so are we," his mom said, and Ray withered. Parental disappointment was the bane of his existence, and there he was, disappointing Leo's mothers with all of his lies.

Curse his admiration for mother figures.

He groaned and stomped his foot. He plucked a few sad notes out on his guitar and wavered the brassy string on his fretboard. Once that was punctuated, he slapped his hand onto his lap and whined, "Fine, I guess I can tell you."

Leo thrust his fists in the air. "Yes! Finally!"

Ray opened his stupid mouth and all that came out was a squeak and a gasp of defeat. He slumped with a groan. "I can't do it."

Leo groaned, slapping his drumsticks down with a crash on the canvas. Ray winced, hugging the body of his guitar as Leo jabbed a drumstick in his direction—a silent and very real threat.

"I'm just—! With Xavier showing up, everything's just... become more complicated," Ray confessed, and, for whatever reason, the next thing to come to mind flew out of his mouth without warning. "And I just found out that my dad exists and lives in San Fran so..."

He blinked, startled that he even mentioned it. As far as he knew, he had completely dismissed Sora's comment about Matías de Lucía. Matías hadn't come to mind until that very moment his unofficial title as Ray's father blurted out.

"Wait—What do you mean by that?" Leo asked, eyes wide. "Do you think—You don't think they're connected somehow, do you?"

"Wh-What do you mean by that?!" Ray squeaked, horrified. "We aren't related!"

Leo rolled his eyes, pushing up from his stool. He rounded the drum set to say, "No, I mean—does Xavier know your dad? And how come you didn't know he existed?"

Ray blushed, glancing at Leo's mothers. They looked at one another until Miss Umi pointed to Leo and said, "It's not like he's adopted. Not that there's anything wrong with being adopted—!"

Leo slapped a hand over his face as Ray squeaked, "I—! I mean, I am adopted, but by my aunt! I never met my dad before."

"And you met him just recently?" she asked.

"N-No! But Sora met him the other night," Ray explained, glancing back at Leo, who's eyes narrowed, hands on his hips. Ray's blush engulfed his entire being. "Wh-Why are you looking at me like that? They didn't meet intentionally. But they had dinner together and—"

"He gets to meet your dad, has a key to your apartment, and you're telling me there's more to the story?" Leo said, an eyebrow quirked up. "Clearly he's your boyfriend."

"He isn't—!" Ray started, exasperated. He halted, however, at the look of damnation on Leo's face, and the way Leo's mothers gasped at the sheer drama of it. It was too late—he already confessed. "He doesn't want anyone to know that—" I'm going to hell aren't I? he thought. "Pretending to... date wasn't exactly the plan but it worked."

"You're... pretending to date?" Leo cried, alarmed. "H-How? What? Why, when, where, bitch? You only just met him this semester!"

"Ugh, I know. It's a mess!" Ray cried. He lowered his guitar down so the strap straightened from around his neck. He strummed a simple, bright chord as Leo scratched at his hair, stubborn and annoyed.

"Okay, then give me a hint then," Leo said.

Ray slapped his hands over the strings to mute them. He glanced back at Leo with a raised eyebrow and said, "Like what?"

"Like... a song that resembles the situation?"

Ray thought about it for a moment. It made perfect sense, and he already had the melody on his fingertips. He looked down at the body of his electric guitar and started to strum the basic rhythm of a song his aunt used to play in the car during middle school shopping season, just before the semester started. It made him feel... the dread he felt now, faced with something inevitable like another year he didn't ask for to be spent in school.

Only now he was faced with another year with a roommate he didn't ask for, a childhood best friend come back from the dead, and his friends asking him "What the fuck?"

Ray sucked in a deep breath before breathing out the lyrics,

"'I thought I saw a man brought to life...

He was warm—he came around like he was dignified—

He showed me what it was to cry...!

Well he couldn't be that man I adored—!

Doesn't seem to know, doesn't seem to care

What his heart is for!

No I don't know him anymore!'"

Ray jumped with both feet into the chorus, and by the time he crash-landed on the concrete, Leo was already back at his drums slamming into the beat. Ray all but yelled into the tee-ball microphone stand, singing, "'THERE'S NOTHING WHERE! WE USED TO LIE!'"

Since the Umi's garage door was open, he could see across the street that a couple walking there dog had paused to watch from a distance, and the fact that one of their neighbors was now sitting on their front stoop smoking a cigarette while listening to Ray and Leo relive their grade school days via a Natalie Imbruglia rock cover.

"'Illusion never changed into something real—I'm wide awake and I can see the per-fect sky is torn! You're a little late—I'm already torn!'"

If all of San Francisco ceased motion and the ocean fell into silence, Sora still would not have heard Ray and Leo's garage session through the sound of Ray's goddamn accordion jam sesh in his headphones.

He didn't work that night and could now be found tucked away in an alcove within the campus library. He sat in the fading sunlight with his feet kicked up on the window ledge and his headphones streaming the slow, ambient tempo of his recording with Ray. Ray's wild recording session had mellowed out over the several takes they made, which made it easier for Sora to pick apart a decent, consistent tempo to match with sound bites he already had on hand.

As he edited, he couldn't deny the crystal-clear visual he had in his head from the studio. Splicing together clips from the file simply cut and pasted images of Ray perched atop the stool, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. His cheeks puffed out from the way he pursed his lips in frustration, eye twitching, when Sora told him to do it all over again.

But the dedication to do it again and do it better cast a bright, explosive expression across Ray's face when Sora told him to move on to the verse. And, when their last full take was made, the way exhaustion swept over Ray could never trump the sweet, sugary taste of victory in Ray's voice when he said, "Did it really sound okay? I'm so glad you liked it!"

It took several vacant seconds before Sora realized that he had stopped working entirely and let the song go on in his headphones while he spaced out in the middle of the library. His brain was waterlogged with thoughts of Ray de Lucía' dumb face.

Sora paused the track.

He stared out the window for five and a half seconds before coming to a dreadful conclusion: He only ever did that when he was seventeen, naïve, and listening to a playlist Charlie had made specifically for him.

"Fuck," Sora said to nothing in particular.

No, he told himself, shaking his head. He wouldn't give into this. It was just a fleeting moment of weakness. He wasn't actually crushing on that idiot, was he?

The only way to test this theory was to psychoanalyze his time in the club from a new lens. It was easy for Sora to decide who he was and wasn't attracted to in the club—it was work, dammit, and he preferred getting cozy with someone who made his heart skip, just a little. He skimmed over the faces of nameless women from bachelorette parties to men who frequented the bar, any instance where he would have gravitated towards that person in an instant.

His heart skipped when he reimagined the rave, the night Ray stared up at him with childlike awe.

Sora slapped his hands over his face. Fuck, he thought, why did my heart skip just then?

They were roommates, dammit! His heart wasn't supposed to skip!

"Fuck it," he told himself, slapping his laptop closed. He decided that this feeling would disappear by sundown.

But then when he opened his backpack to fetch the packed dinner he stowed away, he held up a plastic container with his name on one of Ray's stupid post-it notes. It was from the selection of extra food Ray had made earlier in the week and left in the fridge for Sora, and his name was written like Ray was intentionally trying to harness the legibility of a doctor's handwriting.

And then he sat in the library while eating the food Ray prepared.

He pouted, cheeks puffed out and full of rice and chicken. "Fuck," he seethed through the food, embarrassed and furious with himself. He'd be damned if he let Ray find out that he was caving.

But boy howdy, Natalie Imbruglia certainly had one thing to contribute to Sora's mess, and that was a dreadful realization Ray had after getting the song off his chest, and it came in the form of the bouquet Sora gave him.

The realization? That Ray wouldn't be getting a real bouquet from anyone anytime soon—especially Sora Ikeda. This realization pushed against everything Ray had told himself when it came to his roommate: That Sora was unattainable and therefore deemed unattractive and mean. But that just wasn't true. Sora was cold and coarse, sure, but he clearly had the potential to be so much more than that, and Ray saw it in little snippets from Charlie. Charlie wouldn't befriend a total asshole, would he?

And Sora was attractive. Deceiving himself of that under the pretense of unattainability made him dread the truth. The fact of the matter was that Ray de Lucía would never have a chance with Sora, and the illusion of their fake relationship would never become something real.

Ray would never have a boyfriend who would get him flowers as long as he kept up this ruse with Sora.

Ray sighed wistfully at the dinner table as Leo took away his empty plate. His phone buzzed in his pocket and, since dinner was over and Leo's parents had left the room, he took it out to find an unfamiliar number in his notifications.

The text was in Spanish.

"Aye yai yai," Ray moaned, a hand over his face.

"What is it?" Leo asked.

"It's Xavier. He wants me to meet him on campus tonight," he said, sighing again. He slumped over the table, his cheek resting on his extended arm. He felt bad leading Xavier on, and deep down, he knew that Xavier would buy him flowers if he was in the position to do so. If they were dating.

Ray sighed again.

"Are you... gonna talk to him?" Leo said in a judgmental voice that told Ray that Leo was far from thrilled about Xavier.

"I mean, if your moms drop you off at the dorms, I'll just hop out there too?" Ray said because yes, convenience was the only excuse he could think of for seeing Xavier.

Leo sighed and begrudgingly agreed to it. After all, if Ray pursued Xavier, that freed up Sora, and Ray was certain that this was the train of thought Leo was on. It was also why, when Miss Umi dropped them off, Leo wished Ray luck and followed up with a cheeky wink.

"Go get 'em, sport!" Leo teased with a little skip and a kissy face.

Ray stuck his tongue out at Leo and said, "Gross! Get otta here with that!" Leo giggled when Ray chased after him and kicked his foot out at Leo's ass. He missed by a solid foot, though.

Leo vaulted up the steps of his dorm and said, "Text me how it goes!"

"I'm sure I won't!" Ray said.

"You will!"

Ray huffed as he turned away and started on the trek through the quiet campus streets. The sidewalks were illuminated by tungsten street lamps and the headlights of passing cars as Ray made his way to the track arena where Xavier was getting off practice.

Ray had never been to the arena, and he lingered outside of the front gate for a time before deciding to ask where Xavier was. He dragged his shoe along the bottom ledge of the iron fence until his phone buzzed to let him know that Xavier was just finishing up in the locker room.

"Ugh, I can't just sit here," Ray groaned, anxious butterflies tingling up his spine. He hopped around in circles before making a break for the arena doors and hunting down the locker room.

With his handheld amp secured firmly in his hand and his guitar strapped to his back, he wandered along vacant corridors and followed the sound of students nearby. He followed the signs that led down a ramp into the basement of the complex, where the locker rooms were. He checked the sign above—men's—and puffed out his cheeks.

"Now I remember why I hated sports," Ray thought aloud in a grumble. He hated locker rooms with a passion—but that wouldn't stop him! He wouldn't be intimidated by locker rooms! Nothing intimidated him!

So Ray braced himself and went to march inside as a group of guys exited the archway, chatting amongst themselves. Ray skidded to a halt, waiting to be caught, but the guys went on their way down the hall, completely oblivious to Ray's attempted entry.

He let out a breath of relief, only to startle with a furious groan. "I've got nothing to hide! I'm a dude! I'm a man!" he said, puffing his chest out, hand on his hip. He kicked a foot out at the locker room archway and followed up with a punch and a parry, like he was about to duke it out.

He lurched inside in one big leap. Feet braced firmly on the tiles, Ray sidled his way down the hallway, around the corner, and slid sneakily into the expanse of metal lockers sectioned off in U-shaped cubbies and benches.

A student athlete walked by him, duffle thrown over his shoulder, and pointed to Ray's guitar. "Dude, nice. I've always wanted to learn."

"Th-Thanks! Me too!" Ray squeaked. The guy laughed and went about his day while Ray put a hand to his face and whispered, horrified, "I already know how to play..."

Since the locker room was comprised of nothing but metal and concrete, his voice carried and a second later, Ray turned to look down a section of lockers and already found Xavier staring at him wearing nothing but his boxers.

"▢- ▢▢▢▢!" Xavier cried, voice cracking. He cursed, yanking his shower towel around him as several of his teammates startled at the obviously feminine name.

Ray blinked, startled. He blushed, glancing at Xavier's teammates in that same section of the lockers. There were only two of them, and they were looking at each other. They both shrugged and went about their post-practice evening.

Xavier, on the other hand, was as red as a tomato.

"Fuck—I mean—Ray, what are you, um, doing here?" he said, gripping the towel around his abdomen, like he had something to hide. Ray tipped his head to the side, inadvertently squinting at Xavier's abs.

He pointed to them and said, "I realize being a pole vaulter means having a strong core, but I gotta say—I haven't seen many six packs in real life."

The comment spurred a snort from his two teammates. Xavier glared at them as they passed him, shutting their lockers behind them. Ray smiled at them, but internally, he was screaming and twitching like crazy.

When they were gone, Xavier said, sterner this time, "What are you doing in here? Couldn't you have waited outside?"

"I'm impatient," Ray said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but you can't—" Xavier started, only to halt when Ray rose an eyebrow at him. Xavier cursed under his breath and sighed, "Perdón no quise decir eso. Habit."

Ray swallowed hard. He glanced down the lane of lockers and back again, heart pounding in his chest. He never understood genuine apologies because he rarely had to deal with them. Offhanded apologies were one thing—"Oh, sorry for bumping into you," "Oh, sorry I didn't mean to skip you," or "Oh, sorry, no you go. I didn't mean to talk over you." But hearing Xavier apologize in their native language spoke to his heart in ways he couldn't comprehend. It felt more authentic than the english alternative, and it made Ray melt.

"I-It's fine. I get it," Ray said. "You know, I heard seven days breaks a habit."

Xavier sighed. "Yeah. Guess we haven't hung out much this past week."

Ray smiled, and the tension faded in Xavier's shoulders. He was still holding the towel tightly, though, and after a second, Xavier asked if Ray would turn around so he could put some actual pants on. "O-Oh! Yeah, sure," Ray yelped, spinning around. He almost took a guy out with his amp, though. He hugged it to his chest as he counted the seconds it took for Xavier to dress.

He licked his lips and glanced at all the awards posted on the cement wall in front of him. "So... what did you want to talk about?" Ray asked.

Xavier shut his locker and, just as Ray was about to turn around, Xavier came up next to him with his gym bag looped over one shoulder. "Maybe we should... talk about this outside?" he suggested.

Ray nodded, speechless. He hurried after Xavier, keeping pace with him as they walked down the stretch of lockers. Ray hooked his thumb under the strap of his guitar case, fiddling with it nervously as they emerged into the hallway. Xavier led the way out of the arena, but as they went, he glanced at Ray and Ray glanced at him, and Ray decided to offer an encouraging smile.

"Well, we're outside now," Ray said, only to shake his head. "No, wait, we're still inside. But we're outside of the locker room so I think that counts?"

Xavier laughed, scratching at his damp hair. "Yeah, um, mierda. This hurts to say. Do you mind if I–?"

Ray nodded, knowing instantly what he meant.

With a deep breath, Xavier said, "Después de lo que ocurrió ayer, me di cuenta que- mierda, me importas tanto que, me di cuenta que sólo quiero que seas feliz. Parece que Sora te da eso que necesitas, y no quiero molestaste interfiriendo. No es justo, así que me gustaría que solo fuéramos... amigos?"

Ray paused outside of the arena doors, feeling the strap of his guitar suffocating him. He swallowed hard, heart fluttering up to his constricted throat.

I can't believe I just friendzoned myself, Ray thought.

When he didn't say anything, Xavier sighed, looking down at his feet. "And you were right," he said, his accent doing funny things to Ray's heartstrings. "We don't really know each other anymore. Being friends might help with that. I want to get to know you, and I'm ok empezar de cero—"

Ray nearly dropped his amp in his haste. He reached an arm up to hug Xavier around the shoulders.

As he did, Sora was just leaving the library in hopes of getting eight hours of sleep before class the next morning. Sora was in the middle of getting out his bus pass when he paused and recognized the distant sound of Xavier's voice. It was unmistakable, and as he searched for it, he found the shadow made by Xavier and Ray stretch across the concrete, splitting as Ray pulled away from the hug.

Sora's heart stopped.

Ray smiled up at Xavier and said something incomprehensible from Sora's distance. Xavier nodded. Sora nearly dropped his bus pass. It felt like splinters digging into his palm as he watched Ray kiss Xavier's cheek, lingering longer than some platonic la bise.

When Ray moved to walk away, Sora kicked back into gear again. He turned and hurried out of sight, taking the long way around the arena to his bus stop so he could avoid crossing paths with Ray. However, they seemed to have the same idea.

Stupidly, Sora had assumed Ray came with his car.

When he arrived at the bus stop, Ray was already there, hugging his handheld amp to his chest, swaying to and fro. Sora slowed several paces away. Ray hadn't noticed him yet, and he wondered if he could walk to their apartment from here to avoid taking the bus with Ray. The childish part of him wanted to—as if Ray would ever know that Sora picked walking over sitting on the bus with him.

Clearly, though, Ray wasn't going to sit around and wait for Sora to make his feelings known. As unprepared as he was to confess what he was feeling, and however new those feelings were, they were real. And they were hurt from seeing Ray kiss Xavier's cheek.

Ray glanced down the sidewalk and caught Sora staring.

Ray startled with a gasp, saying, "S-Sora! What're you doing here?" and Sora wondered if Ray's brain flew right back to his kiss on Xavier's cheek like Sora's brain had.

"I was working on homework," Sora said. He wandered up beside Ray and said, "You didn't bring your car?"

Ray shook his head. "Nah, I was hanging out with Leo's family today. You know he's got two moms? Two of them! That's so cool."

"Lesbians exist, you know," Sora deadpanned, and Ray laughed like lesbianism was Such A Concept.

They fell quiet as they watched the bus turn the corner onto their street, the number glowing above the windshield. Ray pulled up his ticket on his phone and was the first to step into the bus when it arrived. He walked to the back of the mostly-empty bus. Sora took the seat beside him.

After a few moments of silence, Sora said, "So what's with you and Xavier?"

Ray let out a choked, squeaky sound. He tried to laugh it off, waving his hand as he said, "N-Nothing! We're just friends."

Sora rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause friends kiss each other on the cheek."

This time, Ray did choke. He coughed into his elbow, red in the face, and rasped, "Th-That was—! It's—"

"Complicated?" Sora said, raising an eyebrow. He glanced at Ray, who bit his lip and slumped in his seat, his guitar case hugged to his chest. "Why are you interested in him?"

"Because I just—" Ray started, breathless. He let out a gasping sigh and pouted, looking out the window. "I just want to be in a real relationship. I'm sick of being alone. But I don't think Xavier's ready for a relationship with me. Like, who I am now. So I might just wait until he's ready. I don't know yet."

"I think he's your last resort," Sora said, and when Ray looked at him, startled, their eyes met. "You shouldn't be waiting around for a default."

"Default?" Ray cried, indignant. He scoffed and said, "I'll have you know, I saw his abs today and Holy Mother Theresa that is not the default—"

"Abs? Really?" Sora said, and when Ray floundered for some other compliment to give Xavier, Sora scoffed and added, "There's a perfectly good six pack sitting right here."

Ray laughed nervously, high-pitched and embarrassed. "D-Don't be ridiculous!" he cried, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm—You're—The plan..."

Sora turned fully to him and Ray's voice trailed off into a pained whimper, eyes wider than the moon. "Do you or do you not want a real boyfriend?"

Please tell me I'm dreaming, Ray thought, swallowing hard.

And then, Sora reached towards him. Ray tensed up, panic in full swing, only to relax when Sora simply pulled the string for the bus to stop. He breathed a sigh of relief—until the exact moment Sora braced a hand on the bus window, his face directly in front of Ray's.

"Let me know," he said, and pushed off of the window, to his feet, and walked to the front of the bus as if he hadn't just given Ray the ultimatum of the century.

Ray lurched into motion the instant the bus stopped moving. He scrambled after Sora, his arms full from the guitar and the amp. He all but tripped out of the bus and onto the sidewalk kitty-corner from their apartment. Sora was standing there, waiting for him to get off the damn bus, and Ray nearly rammed straight into him. He skidded, stopped, his eyes locked on Sora's.

Ray bolted in the direction of their apartment, not even bothering to look twice when he crossed the road.

Sora watched, squinting at the way Ray juggled his equipment and keys. He tipped his head to the side as he watched Ray scramble through the doors and race out of view, up the stairs. He rubbed at his hair and thought to himself, Maybe that wasn't the best tactic...

a/n: No real reason why I'm posting early hehe hope yall enjoyed!