-Mason-

Somehow, I'd gone from discreetly Bennett-watching from a distance to actually knowing the guy within the span of a single day; I felt dizzy from the whiplash, my mind still buzzing with excitement despite how long it took me to find a spot in the student parking lot when I finally made it back to the dorms.

Usually, I would've spent the entire time cursing under my breath, but I couldn't even find it in myself to be bothered.

I slid into the space another vehicle had just left and turned off the car with a deep sigh, immediately relaxing back against my seat. I lazily leaned my head back against the headrest, yawning before picking up my phone from the middle compartment. I didn't even want to get down, somewhat enjoying the uneventful silence of just sitting there by myself. However, I'd probably get an earful from Eric if I didn't hurry up; he'd asked me to bring him some energy drinks hours ago, among other snacks.

That was the only reason I'd even headed to the store after working out.

Huh, I'd have to thank him for that.

I leisurely stepped out of the comfort of my car, taking down the groceries in a single trip because my legs would probably fall off otherwise. I'd gone a bit hard at the gym today under the assumption that I'd head back home right after.

Not that I was complaining. But there was also such bone-deep exhaustion just heavily weighing on my shoulders, patiently waiting for the adrenaline rush to wear out so it could knock me the hell out.

Still, I couldn't have wiped the stupid, dopey grin off my face even if I'd tried. I caught a flew glimpses of it while heading back, taunting me from a few reflective surfaces here and there. But... who cared? To hell with everyone that saw me walking back to my room in a daze and wondered if I'd won the lottery.

It felt like I had.

I was halfway through opening my door when I finally realized I'd also taken down the box of condoms in my excitement, casually carrying it through campus. Damn it; the dorm supervisor would've probably had a fit if they saw me walking around with it so nonchalantly.

I frowned down at the box. What was I supposed to do with these anyway?

And almost in defiance, my traitorous mind provided me with visual cues of exactly what I could do with them. It brutally ran through dozens of scenarios within seconds, from how soft Bennett's lips would feel against mine to how beautifully he'd moan for me as I spread him open, greedily dragging my tongue along his beautiful, brown skin before finally caving to his whiny pleas and—

"Shit," I yelped while toppling to the ground, realizing I'd slammed my foot against the corner of my bed frame. I grumbled under my breath as I shoved the shoe off and massaged my foot, looking around and making sure nothing was leaking from any of the scattered groceries.

"Hey, buddy, are you okay?" Eric called out while wheeling himself over, not even bothering to get off his damn chair. "You should really look where you're heading—ooh, what's that in your hand?"

"Nothing!" I retorted while hastily shoving the box into the lower drawer on my nightstand, glaring up at him from where I was still sprawled on my ass. I ignored his knowing smirk altogether, trying to pick up the rest of the groceries which had spilled from the bag. I didn't even bother getting up, just shoving them into Eric's hand so he could put them away in our designated "snacks" area right over the mini fridge.

"Oh, so we're feeling hopeful, then?" he asked enthusiastically while putting them away, stacking the perishables in the mini-fridge, and putting the bagged snacks on the drawer we had on top of it. "Attaboy! See, I knew you could do it! When's the first date? Where are you taking him?"

I deadpanned.

"Oh, you just wanna hook up, then?" Eric furrowed his eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion over his own damn assumptions. "Why go through all this trouble, then? Bro, if you're just trying to get laid, just redownload—"

"I'm begging you to stop!" I called out, flailing at the mere thought. "I—I really like him, okay? I want to ask him out, really; I'm just—I'm working up to it."

"So, you haven't even started dating him yet, but you're buying those?" he asked while signaling towards the general direction of the incriminating box tucked away in the back of my nightstand. "Don't you think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself, then? I mean, I appreciate the newfound confidence, but maybe—"

"Ugh, mind your own business, Eric," I grumbled under my breath, nervously averting my gaze just in case he found some weakness to exploit any further information out of me. I was usually terrible at keeping things from him, but I really didn't want him tauntingly calling me Babe. Anything but that. "I mean it."

Eric would never know about what had happened at the bodega if I could help it. Knowing him, he'd refuse to let me live it down, all while assuring me that teasing me relentlessly is how best friends are meant to act.

"Daydreaming about that cute brunet again?" he asked, not even trying to hide his devious smirk. "Bennett, right? You keep muttering his name under your breath. It's kind of cute."

I stared at him, downright shocked. I guess whatever he was trying to provoke me with should've made sense, but my mind was still cloudy from the breathtaking notion of being with Bennett in any capacity, especially if it involved—

"How?" I yelled once his words finally processed through my foggy mind. "How the hell?"

"I just told you, you keep saying his name under your breath," Eric mentioned off-handedly, feigning innocence as if he hadn't just purposely exposed himself to provoke me.

"His hair color," I muttered while pushing myself up to my feet so I could properly, intimidatingly tower over him.

"Isn't he a brunet? I mean, Google says that people with black hair technically also count as brunets, even though most people would assume it only refers to someone with brown—"

"No, not that. How?" I demanded.

Eric grinned sheepishly. "You have a type."

"Bullshit."

"Remember when you had a crush on me during our final year of middle school?"

"You knew?"

Eric scoffed, awkwardly scratching the back of his head before signaling towards his computer. "Anyways... I looked up the staff list for the gym that you frequent—which took a shit ton of scrolling through our text messages to find the name of, by the way; we text way too much, dude—oh, and his name and picture popped right up!"

' He said it casually... as if it weren't absolutely bizarre that he was stalking the hot dude I was already kind of stalk—wait, no.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" I said, shaking my head in disbelief. I should've known he'd go out of his way to track Bennett down. I was more surprised he hadn't found the kid's socials, honestly. At least, then, he'd be useful.

"Well, you better believe it, buddy boy!"

And hell, perhaps part of me was also vexed that I hadn't thought about doing that first. Of course he'd be on the gym website's staff list; it felt so obvious in hindsight! Damn it, Eric...

"Well, that's enough from you, you hear me? No more tracking down strangers!" I yelled back, wincing when there was a sudden banging against the wall.

"It's 2AM! Shut the hell up!" the disembodied voice yelled out angrily. "Goddamn assholes! It's quiet hours!"

Eric chuckled at our neighbor's rage, shrugging it off like Peter wouldn't come over and kick our asses if we didn't stop making a ruckus. "Bennett looks alright. I do think you could do a lot better, but I kind of see the appeal."

I frowned, somewhat taken aback. I genuinely considered punching him in the face before realizing he was just messing around with me. I sat down on my bed, creating some distance for his sake, and settled for threateningly glaring at my foolish friend instead. "Don't say shit like that, even as a joke; I'm serious, Eric."

Eric's eyebrows shot up, his mouth forming into a small "o" before he hurriedly nodded his head in agreement. "He's a cutie, alright? Sorry."

The thought of Bennett hearing something like that and getting hurt was enough to have my blood boiling. There was such a clear nervousness to him, which was hesitant and tender just like him. Harsh jokes would probably crush him. I couldn't picture him complaining aloud, but rather... letting it consume him from within. My little sister was like that too, so I'd certainly seen how it could eat away at someone.

It made me feel so helpless every time I witnessed it. There was rarely anything I could do about it, though. My words were a light breeze on a windy day, inevitably lost in all the numbing turbulence.

But there was no way Eric could've known that. I visibly relaxed and flashed a small smile, if only to ease my friend's mind. "We did hang out tonight; although, it wasn't a date. It went well, though, I think."

"You think?"

I shrugged, well aware that I'd described the evening quite lamely. And yet, I couldn't even begin to think of what words would do it justice... or would spare me from ending up furiously blushing at my own expense.

I'd never felt so pleased by simply learning more about someone else before. I had friends, but it never felt like this. Even with Eric, we usually filled our free time with activities and video games so we wouldn't fall into a stale silence. We were great at doing different things while quietly spending time together, but even that relied heavily on my own ability to focus on whatever I was doing. There wasn't that urgency with Bennett.

I just wanted to spend time with him.

Even the moments of silence had felt surprisingly comfortable. I could've stayed in that car all night. It just felt easy, even if my mind was still reeling from all that had happened today. I could see myself easily getting used to it... to him. I missed him already.

More than anything, I hadn't expected myself to feel so protective over someone I hardly knew. The only other time I ever felt like that was around my sister, or perhaps even Eric, but no... this was different. It was almost too much. It felt like I was drowning in my own worries, falling into a void of my own creation. I probably sounded foolish, but navigating my own feelings had never really been my forte, anyways.

Yet...

"So, you like 'em with a little melanin, huh?" Eric asked teasingly, mockingly wiggling his eyebrows. "A win for us Latino men, truly."

"Eric."

"See? I knew I was your type, Papi."

I must've been blushing furiously because he burst out laughing at his own cringiness. "Another word from you, and I'm flinging you out the window," I threatened, even as he loudly cackled in response.

"No te molestes, papi," ("Don't get mad, daddy,") he called out off-handedly, only to gasp in fear when I lunged for him.

I missed him by an inch, glowering as he rushed towards the door and cautiously held onto the doorknob. I had no clue what he'd said, but I knew better than to give the benefit of the doubt to that little shit. "Oh, now you want to speak in Spanish?" I retorted rudely, knowing damn well it was a sore subject for him because of his parents. Sometimes I caught him talking in Spanish when he needed to, but that was quite rare despite his fluency.

"Hey! Don't bring up my family trauma, you rat!" Eric called out just as Peter pounded his fist against the wall once more. We both simmered down, Eric slightly flinching at the sound. "Shit, sorry!"

"Fucking go to sleep!" Peter ordered with a tone of finality.

I snorted, settling down on my bed, and watching as he cautiously walked towards his own bed, probably worried I'd ambush him along the way. I probably would've done it too, if I wasn't concerned about Eric screaming and Peter coming over to murder us.

"Then stop bugging me," I muttered in response.

"Did you at least ask him to hang out again?" Eric asked excitedly once he was comfortably lying across his bed, proudly nodding his head at me. "Do you think he likes you? Did he give any hints about—?"

I hushed him, narrowing my eyes.

He deflated immediately. "Damn it, Mason."

"I don't even know if he's into men," I explained, glaring up at the ceiling because it was easier than looking at him. Besides, I refused to get shit about my lack of game from someone that once got dumped at prom—during prom—For wearing basketball shorts to the fucking dance. Yes, seriously.

Sure, it was because I dared him to, but who the hell takes up a dare like that in the first place? He should have known better.

"Alright, Romeo," Eric muttered under his breath, reaching over, and patting my knee comfortingly. "I'm sure you'll get your chance."

"Norma already used that reference."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it," I replied dismissively, before suddenly frowning at him. "Wait, doesn't he die at the end?"

"They both do, buddy. They both do."

---

A/N: Oof, I guess I should've included spoiler warnings for the 1597 Shakespearean classic Romeo and Juliet. My bad.