A/N: I JUST DON'T BELONG HERE I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND WE MIGHT FIND A PLACE IN THIS WORLD SOMEDAY BUT AT LEAST FOR NOW..... I GOTTA GO MY OWN WAYYYY~

Micah didn't know what to do with himself when Alistair didn't immediately come back and explain himself. It took two hours for Micah to realize that he really truly had left for work nearly two hours early.

    What the fuck just happened? he thought, and believed the only other person on the planet with an answer was his best friend.

    Micah dressed, grabbed his coat, slipped on his shoes, and made a swift getaway to Kennedy's place.

    Kennedy answered the buzzer after five long presses. Once up, he went for the door handle and found it locked. He nearly ran into the door in his haste to enter. He banged on the door until she answered.

    "Jesus Christ, it's, like—" she started, checking her watch as Micah slipped past her.

    In the threshold, nearly chest-to-chest with her, he pointed at her accusingly. "You've been texting Alistair."

    She blinked. "He told you?"

    "No, I fucking found out," he said.

    "How did you—? We haven't texted in a couple days."

    She shut the door behind him as he went for her liquor cabinet. She shut that door as well.

    "Let me at it!" Micah said, clawing for the gin.

    She shoved him down onto the nearest hot-pink couch and said, "Take a breath, alright?"

    Micah flopped back, dramatic, and covered his face with his hand. When he said nothing beyond a dismissive wave of his hand, Kennedy relaxed.

    "You aren't angry with me?"

    He'd thought about being angry with her, but that felt intentional and disingenuous. "No, I guess not. I'm not even pissed at Alistair. I don't know why."

    In nothing but a silky robe, Kennedy claimed the seat beside him and hooked an arm over the back of the couch. The more time they spent in silence and in Kennedy's urgent, "Take a breath," Micah took several breaths. And had several thoughts.

    He should have expected this after the Halloween Roleplay Fiasco. He just hadn't anticipated the length of time she'd spent texting Alistair, or vice versa.

    "Are you... angry with Alistair?" she asked.

    "No," he admitted, sighing. Elbow on the armrest, he sunk his head into his hand. "This is so fucked. I can't even—Clearly, this means I don't even want a relationship where a third party isn't mediating everything."

    "But you... do want a relationship. With Alistair."

    "No. I don't know? This isn't a yes," he said, sternly, when Kennedy opened her lips with a smile.

    She pouted at him.

    He glared at her from between his fingers. "You know me too well."

    She beamed again. "I do, don't I? And it worked. You totally fell for him."

    "Yeah, and he's probably gonna flee the country now. He caught me reading your texts and looked like I'd shot him," Micah said.

    Kennedy winced. "Yeah, he does that."

    They fell into defeated silence, grief weighing on Micah. His insides were churning, twisting, and filled with static.

    And then it clicked.

    He lifted his head to stare at her. "What do you mean."

    She gasped. "Are you asking for advice?"

    "No, I just want to know what that means. Has he fled before because of me?"

    "Always," she said. "Well, except for when he had to apologize for Benny about all that Blood Stuff."

    Micah clamped his jaw shut. He floundered in... guilt? No, that wasn't right. He hadn't done anything deserving of guilt. If Alistair wanted to burn money on flights out of JFK, then that wasn't on Micah.

    "He'll probably fly out today after work."

    "I can stop him," Micah suggested.

    "No! No, don't do that," she said, quickly. He wanted to throttle her. "Let him go. And if he doesn't warn you ahead of time, that's good."

    "It... is?"

    "Yes, because think about it: if you know something's bad right now but know it'll resolve itself, why worry the people you care about?"

    That's why he never gives a heads up? Micah thought, thinking back to his first housesitting message.

    "And you're staying at his place, right?"

    "Right... But what if he does warn me ahead of time?"

    "Then we'll have to expedite the Benny move-in plan," she said. "But I think it's gonna be fine. I've talked to Benny about Alistair's past relationships and it sounds like he's never lasted past a single spontaneous trip to get space. You've survived, what, like three? Five?"

    Micah was dizzy, blood draining. "We're in a relationship?"

    "Okay, let's not call it that. You aren't ready for that."

    Kennedy got up to make coffee. When she came back, she said, "Wow! I can't believe how well you took our texts!"

    He grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at her. It clocked her in the side of the head, skewing her bedhead. "I'm not angry about it, but I'm not happy, either! It's fucking different if it's recent. And what was with that space text?"

    "What?" She blinked, gasped, and said, "Oh! The last text! Well, 'cause you two are so similar, I figured he might need personal space living with you. I offered to orchestrate something to get you out of his flat."

    And he hadn't used it, Micah thought. For all of Alistair's horrible, painful, anxiety-inducing germ quirks, he hadn't wanted space. Granted, they'd only been living together for three days, but Micah considered that a feat for not only himself, but also Alistair.

    Kennedy grinned at him. "You're so blushing."

    "I'm not," he insisted, getting to his feet. "So, what, am I just supposed to stay at his place while he just dips?"

    "Well, you work today," she reminded him. "He's gonna wait to come back until you leave for work. And do not plan on intercepting him. Just let him go. Okay?"

    "Okay."

    "Promise?"

    "Yes, I promise. I get it—We're, like, the same person," Micah said with a scoff. "Does Benny know about all this?"

    "No, he's clueless," she confessed. "I figured he'd pester you about it and you'd be turned off to the idea of Alistair."

    He was starting to feel a bit sick at how accurate her assessments were. "You're right," he said. "I hate that you're right."

    She snapped finger guns at him.

    He nearly left, but then the thought struck him. She'd been talking to Alistair longer than just the munch before Halloween. "Did you sleep with him more than once?"

    She stared. He didn't know if he should interpret her silence as admission, or shock. "What makes you say that?"

    "I just got that impression from your texts. And the timeline."

    "Oh. No, it was just that once."

    "Are you lying to me?"

    "No! Ask him, but preface it with that I told you the truth. He wouldn't lie then," she said.

    "And if he gives me a different number?"

    "Then I'm no longer to be trusted, I guess."

    He wrangled her into a half-hug and said, "Yeah right. I'll talk to you later."

    "'Kay. I'll keep you posted on the Benny negotiations."

    As desperately as Micah wanted to hear this all from Alistair himself, Micah recognized a man on the run because he was one. If he squeezed too hard, Alistair would slip away and be less inclined to return.

    But this just made staying at Alistair's place all the more precarious to him.

    That evening, Micah made a point to leave the apartment earlier than usual to give Alistair space to vacate. And, when Micah returned around two in the morning, the place was spotless, clean, and devoid of Alistair.

    Micah set his keys in the dish by the door and kicked off his shoes. Before he could strip his work clothes off, his eyes caught on the note on the counter. When he flicked the lights on, the note quickly became a letter of substantial value.

    It was Alistair's Have fun handwriting, and Micah wanted to absorb it into his skin as he read.

I take the fact that your things are still here as a good sign. When I saw you'd read my texts with Kennedy I assumed you'd never want to see me again, but I see that isn't the case. I think we could both use some time apart to process. I won't call or text.

Feel free to stay. I prefer you staying here versus the hotel or your swinger couples' bootcamp. I'll avoid checking the cameras so you can have privacy.

Please continue to use the guest bathroom but if you need anything from the main bath, you're welcome to use it.

-Alistair

    Micah slept alone in Alistair's bed that night. All of work had been spent reassuring himself that this situation wasn't as dire as it seemed. Kennedy had sounded confident about Alistair's lack of correspondence. Micah was inclined to believe her.

    After all, she'd gotten this far in worming Alistair into Micah's life, and now the thought of packing up and leaving Alistair's flat for good gave him indigestion. It was the opposite of anything he'd ever felt before.

    Like he wanted to sink his claws into Alistair and not let go.

    Micah scrubbed at his sleep-deprived eyes, dragging his fingers down his cheeks. What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought. It should have been an easy and instant escape after Alistair left for work.

    Alistair was right. If Micah hadn't taken the news well, his suitcases wouldn't have been there when Alistair returned from work.

    I could leave now and prove him wrong, Micah thought. We aren't dating. We aren't in a relationship. Prove it by leaving, dammit!

    Micah slammed his fists to his forehead, repeatedly, groaning. You made your decision to stay. Stick to it!

    He didn't want to be a pet. He didn't want to be the feral cat domesticating itself at the first sight of an open window belonging to a reclusive, hot man with an understanding of boundaries. Where he'd indulge the occasional pet and be on his way, but always, always expected to return.

    Micah rolled out of bed the next morning believing himself to be that feral, stray cat with a penchant for danger. He couldn't come back to Alistair's open window if he got hit by a car, so he forced himself to the streets.

    It did nothing but distract himself from the very obvious fact that he'd be returning to Alistair's flat after work that day. And the day after that. And the day after that... spring semester would begin.

    Micah took classes in stride and threw himself into his studies the moment they became available to him. Readings complete, lectures noted on, and James, sharing two classes with him this semester instead of one.

    And Benny, sharing none.

    "Hi," James said, choosing the seat beside Micah with an exhausted sigh. "How was your break?"

    "Uneventful," Micah lied. "You?"

    "Fine." And then, to Micah's horror, he said, "Kinda felt like I just got over a breakup, not gonna lie."

    The memory of Kennedy's Empathy Flashcards was fizzling out. "Damn, that sucks," he said.

    "I take it you know all the gory details," James said, followed by a laugh sounding painfully similar to a sob.

    "No, I haven't talked to Benny yet."

    James stared at him. "Aren't you two roommates?"

    "I'm not living there right now," he said.

    James' brow furrowed, confused. He opened his mouth to question it, but lectured began and they were forced to ignore the top. Micah hoped he'd forget about the topic by the end of class.

    He wasn't that lucky.

    James chased him out of the class, asking, "So where are you staying now? Did you get your own apartment?"

    "No," he answered simply.

    "Are you seeing someone then?"

    "No," he said, as truthfully as he could manage given the circumstances. He sighed. "I don't really want to talk about this, if you don't mind."

    "R-Right, sorry." James passed a hand through his hair, scratched the back of his head, and said, "You know, I got an invite to Benny's birthday party next month. I was wondering if we could go together? I'm nervous to go alone..."

    Micah saw no reason to lie aside from politeness, so he told the truth. "I don't know if I'm going," he confessed. At James' shock, Micah admitted, "We're working things out. But I'm not really interested in attending as of right now."

    "Oh. Well, if you change your mind..."

    Micah nodded. "You'll be the first to know."

    Micah didn't spend much time on campus, which he thought was a shame because he was going into debt by the second and wanted to make his tuition count. But alas, spending time on campus involved inexplicable anxiety around whether or not Benny or Hunter would be around every corner snogging.

    Micah escaped campus unscathed each day thanks to his new habit of taking the long route around to his latest subway stop. Less traffic, less likely to encounter Benny and Hunter. It was the perfect escape every time.

    Trusting Kennedy to mediate properly, Micah resumed sharing his location with her. And, when he felt an inkling of discomfort come on, he reminded himself that Kennedy had mitigated all of Micah's usually tightly-spun delusions about strangers and their entitlement to his life.

    Kennedy had his whole life already, and he trusted her with it. Usually.

    And, thanks to sharing his location, his queries about Benny's decision were met with, "He's on 8th heading to the park take Mercer."

    When the following Wednesday came around, he met Kennedy for dinner where he was greeted with a sigh.

    Micah's shoulders slumped. "He's not giving up the Hunter apartment privileges, huh."

    "Sorry," she winced. "Hunter got really uncomfortable at brunch today when we started talking about it. Something about, 'I should be able to visit my boyfriend's place.'"

    Micah slapped his hands over his face, rage tightening his shoulders. He was shaking with unbridled fury within seconds. "I fucking hate him," Micah seethed through gritted teeth, face still covered.

    "Sorry."

    "I'm supposed to be out of Alistair's place by Friday."

    "I know... Maybe ask him for an extension?"

    "I don't know how long he's planning to be gone," Micah said. "What if I ask for an extension and he just stays away longer? It's rude to just squat there."

    "Then don't tell him," Kennedy said. "Maybe he'll come back, and he'll know you're there, which means he's cool with it."

    "Or maybe he'd come back just to kick me out and tell me to go fuck myself," Micah whispered, arms dropping to the table.

    Kennedy squeezed his wrist. "Don't say that. It'll be fine. My last resort is to get Erika involved. I'll ask her for help—I don't think she likes Hunter being around the place either."

    "No, don't do that," Micah sighed.

    "She's usually a voice of reason for Benny, though."

    "No, we can't put her in that position."

    "Why not?"

    Micah stared at her, dully. Kennedy shrugged, shaking her head. "Kennedy, Benny's our landlord. I'm fine floating, but what if Benny kicks Erika out?"

    Kennedy bit her lip. "Then she'd just live with me."

    "You hate having roommates."

    "But Erika's, like, over at my place all the time anyway."

    Micah rose an eyebrow, impressed. "Character development?"

    "Oh, hush. It's just because Hunter's over all the time and he'd cause a fuss if he heard the sounds I make when Erika eats me out. You know?"

    "Boy, do I. I know too well. I have nightmares about it still."

    "As if! I could voice over pornos."

    "I'm sure you have other career prospects."

    "Well, there's that gallery opening this weekend. Benny's busy, and I just need some arm candy to show off last semester's stuff."

    "Not to..."

    "No, you won't walk. Just socialize."

    "I work."

    "I'll pay you?"

    "Then sure."