"Hold still, Mikey," Jeremy fussed, trying to pick the lint off his buddy's jacket. "I can't believe that you managed to get lint all over a leather jacket. It's leather for God's sake. There is no lint. Why did you put this in the sweater closet anyway? We have a closet for fall and winter coats, they don't have lint. Why didn't you put this thing in there? It's the same thing with ties. Why can't you tie one? You're twenty seven. It's like tying shoes."
"I can tie a tie," Mike sniffed wryly, smiling an itsy bitsy smile. Jeremy looked at him with an unimpressed expression raising an eyebrow, a silent reminder of a month ago, when a tipsy Mike Schmidt was crying on a half asleep Jeremy Fitzgerald's shoulder about not knowing how to tie a bow tie. "I just can't untie it, I tie it into a knot."
"Oh, alright," Jeremy sighed, preferring to just end the conversation there and then because he knew Mike would just argue his head off. He dusted off a last bit of lint, straightened the jacket, and appreciatively glanced over the outfit he chose for Mike. He fixed the jacket onto his shoulders. He smiled. "You doing alright there, Michael?"
"Uh… yeah, I suppose," he mused, a snort escaping. Man, real emotions are great. "Just a bit nervous, ya know. Haven't seen my brother in twenty years type anxiety. And then he literally comes waltzing into my life again in the same place? It's just…."
"Weird?" Fritz offered, looking over the top of his book. Mike nodded. The atmosphere of the room quieted until they heard the front door click shut. A moment later, the door opened into the boys' room, the one they all share,d and Vincent strode in, hopping onto his top bunk. Even with their combined salaries, they could all only afford a one bedroom, and bought three bunkbeds for the six, I mean, five of them. Their last roommate had gotten a side job of home breaking for the government and himself for a few months, his bed empty but with a promise of return. The arrangement was as follows: Vincent's bed was above Scott's; Fritz was above Mike; and Jeremy slept under Edward's empty bunk. Vincent scowled down at them, a rare sight as he usually wore a smirk or a smile, in a generally cheery mood. Jeremy stared back in surprise, his regular holographic question marks exclamation points. They quickly turned into interrobangs. Fritz closed his book and put it in his lap. "Are you ok, Vin? You seem… hm, a little upset? Dejected? Forlorn? You're usually more… chipper."
"I'll chip you, Smith, you and your nerdy mind," Vincent emptily threatened. Then he shrugged, pushing himself up onto his pillow, then barrel rolling over so his face was deeply planted in its fluff. A muffled, "I've never been better in my whole d*** life."
"Alright Vinny," Mike chuckled, rolling his grey brown eyes and folding his arms, earning a irritated and disappointed cluck from Jeremy for messing up his jacket yet again. "What happened between you and Scott? Don't think we didn't notice that you were gone for the past eight hours. The Rouge Scarf opens in a half hour."
"Nothing," he blurted, swinging into a sitting position, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He swooped downward, snatching Scott's pillow and hugging it to his chest. He seemed to curl inward in an upset thought. "I definitely didn't do something incredibly stupid that might've ruined everything even more. Definitely not that."
"Purple… I think you should tell us what really happened," Jeremy said softly, pulling himself onto his friend's bed, sitting down next to him, their height difference even more apparent than usual, Vincent a full head above him. "I know that Scott is hard on the outside, but I'm pretty sure that he just… was hurt before. Don't you ever notice how he never talks about previous relationships? He just needs a bit of time, whatever happened wasn't either of your faults."
