[Private] Oil and Water

In the same way as Sima felt it was his right to ask Ethan to go outside, Ethan felt it was his right to stay; who had been there longer didn’t matter to him one bit, as far as he was concerned he was paying half the rent and therefore had just as many rights as Sima did. He kept quiet as he listened to his roommate talk about the groceries, and was again baffled by the bizarre way the young man showed his animosity; he seemed to be using the fact that he bought all the groceries as some kind of weapon… when he was actually doing Ethan a favour.

As Sima cooked his breakfast, Ethan finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on the windowsill before sweeping the ashes outside. ‘I’ll be getting everything I need here today, but thanks anyway.’ Honestly, he was completely bewildered by the other’s behaviour, and it was slightly audible in his tone. No one usually had the nerve to talk to him in this way… it was both refreshing and irritating.

His violet eyes were narrow as he watched Sima move around, until the student finally collapsed in armchair opposite him, and his jaw clenched slightly. If he was going to have to deal with this constantly, eventually it was going to drive him mad, he just knew it would… so he abruptly stood, moved over to Sima and leaned down so his face was only inches away from the others, his arm bracing him on the backrest of the armchair.

‘Listen,’ he growled, glowering at him. ‘You don’t like me. I get it. I don’t like you either, goose boy, but if your passive-aggressive shit doesn’t stop, I’m going to get mighty pissed off. You can ignore me as much as you like, I couldn’t care less, but I don’t like dealing with children—and that’s exactly how you’re acting, like a child.’

Looking more disgusted than pissed off, now, the Goth withdrew and straightened up, glaring down at him. ‘Until you grow up, kindly pretend like I don’t exist or something. I’m more than happy to return the favour.’

Most people, after such a speech, might have flounced off with a slam of a door or something… but not Ethan. Ethan didn’t give a damn what Sima would think of him after that; it couldn’t be any worse that what the other student seemed to think of him already. Instead, he went to the kitchen—still well within Sima's sight—to make himself some toast, the scowl still on his face. He was more annoyed about the fact his current bad mood had ruined his morning, than the actual person who’d caused it.

Fuck the little self- important asshole. If Sima wanted to act that way, Ethan was more than happy to show he would give as good as he got.

Sima automatically tilted his head away just a little bit, but he didn't move much more than that. Just sat there, eyebrow raised, looking straight ahead, his entire body suddenly very rigid. The smell of coffee and cigarettes was heavy, and it was taking a lot for Sima to sit as still as he was when the combined scent made his eyes water. He listened to Ethan in complete silence, finally turning his eyes to him just before he walked away. He kept watching him, glaring, incredulous that the jerk would actually call him childish.

Well, perhaps he was, but he obviously didn't see it that way.

Sima finished off his food and then stood up, walking into the kitchen as if Ethan didn't exist. Seemed he was taking the other's advice, at least until he finished rinsing off his dishes and said: "I wonder how you'd ever find a date smelling like that. Like cigarettes. It's terrible." He glanced at Ethan, unable to imagine anyone willingly going out with a guy like him. Of course, Sima was just terribly biased, but even so.... He shrugged to himself and walked off into the bathroom.

He was running a bit late for class, so he opted to shower later and just went through his short morning routine. He then went back to his bedroom and threw on some clean clothes for the time being. He dressed in a beige tee, hugging close to his slim body, and a pair of jeans that had obviously seen some use, attractive just by looking worn. Over it all he wore a rich brown track jacket with golden stripes running down it. He took up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, grabbing some extra notebooks and materials that didn't fit inside.

Sima ventured back into the living area, glanced at the window where Ethan had been smoking, and then rushed out the door. Fuck him. Sima didn't want to be cooped up in the small, smoke-drenched apartment with such an inconsiderate ass for any longer. He descended the stairs and found his mint green bicycle waiting for him. Sure enough, in his sight was Ethan's mode of transportation, which was most certainly not a wimpy cruiser bicycle like Sima's. Though Sima didn't really care for motorcycles (he was more of a Vespa kind of guy), he had to admit it was a beautiful bike. He stared at it even as he got onto his bicycle, and also as he pedaled off towards campus. Finally, though, he had to break contact, especially when a car honked at him for nearly veering into it.

Distracted? Apparently. Sima had officially declared his morning to be a terrible one, and he just waited to see what else could go wrong in his day. Not that he really ever had good days, but with Ethan around, he was sure his whole month was going to be awful... hopefully Ethan wasn't around for longer than that.

When Sima piped up again, Ethan was tempted to just turn around and hurl the mug he was holding in his hand at the other youth, he was so far past caring at this stage. He managed to restrain himself for the time it took for Sima to leave, however, and let out a sigh of relief when his roommate was gone.

Not many people managed to ruffle Ethan that way, he tended to simply ignore them. But in the case of living with someone, it was just too hard to go about life avoiding each other, since everything had to be shared. Sima was beginning to piss him off now... before, his amusement towards the other’s snide behaviour had been apparently, but that was wearing thin very fast, and it was only a matter of time before he snapped. He didn’t want it to come to that. His temper could run way out of hand, and the last thing he needed was to get kicked out of the building for brawling. He had nowhere else to go.

Sipping at his second cup of coffee, he considered the day ahead; classes in the afternoon, and that was it. He thought of the next day and realised he had one morning class, then a gap, then an afternoon class. Alright, well he could begin by planning around those... he had things he needed to buy, mainly sleeping things, plus some more cigarettes and the brand of coffee he liked. Sima’s coffee was fine, but he knew it wouldn’t last long, not with the amount he liked to consume.

That evening there was an event on at a local nightclub, one that perfectly suited his tastes. If it meant getting away from the apartment, he was more than willing to go, and he hadn’t really been out in a while anyway... it was the perfect excuse. The only problem was that morning class, but even if he dozed through it he doubted it would affect his grades much.

Maybe he’d even find a place to stay the night... in the bed of someone else. The thought made him grin; he hadn’t gotten laid for far too long, he thought to himself. Maybe that was contributing to his vile mood. Well, things were beginning to look up...

The rest of the morning was spent on art, in his bedroom, and finally he left the apartment for the afternoon class he had. He knew Sima would be home by the time he returned, and wasn’t particularly looking forward to seeing the other student again... but what could he do?

The sun was already beginning to sink by the time Sima's classes had finished. He was exhausted, not to mention covered in oil paints, thanks to his last four-hour class. Luckily, none of it had gotten onto his clothes. He didn't have a lot of money, but he still liked to look nice, so his clothes weren't exactly in his budget... but he managed. The sleeves of his brown jacket managed to escape the oil paint by being scrunched up towards his elbows, exposing slim, naturally tanned arms with splotches of green, black, and white on them.

His mint green bicycle was waiting for him outside class, and he piled his stuff into a detachable basket on the front handles—he really was such a girl, but hey, it was practical for an art student with so much in the way of supplies. His messenger bag he kept slung over his shoulders, however, and hopped onto his bike dreading what might be waiting for him at home.

True, he had no idea what Ethan's schedule was, but he was certain he did not want to see any more of him today. With dread heavy in his empty stomach, he rode off towards home... or what used to be home. It suddenly felt like he was unwelcome in his own apartment.

As he approached, he nimbly hopped off of his bike and chained the mint-green cruiser better known as Mintie up outside before entering the building and walking up the few flights of stairs to his now shared apartment. He heard nothing, but that wasn't really a sign of anything. Ethan wasn't exactly as loud and obnoxious as Sima would've liked to believe, if only just to make him feel a little more justified in his hate towards the goth.

The door was locked, so Sima regained a ray of hope as he took out his keys. The sun shone and angels sang when he entered to find it silent as the grave and emptier than—no one was home. Ethan must've had a class at this time. Sima actually managed a smile, something he never did when anyone was around, and even rarely so when he was alone. But this was wonderful. It was like Ethan had never even been there, like awakening from a terrible dream.

Walking through the place with a grin on his face startled even Sima when he turned to face the mirror. He suddenly remembered why he didn't smile. It wasn't that he was ugly or had a bad smile—far from—but it was purely disgusting to him how vulnerable he looked, so terrifyingly... cute. The smile faded fast, melting back into his comfortable scowl. That was much more like him, and he even gave a decisive little nod of approval at his reflection, scowl so set he nearly looked like the most serious of soldiers.

He set all his things down and then slipped into the bathroom, finally taking a shower. So relaxing after such a long day, and it was a relief to scrub away all the paint on his skin. He forgot about absolutely everything: Ethan, his money troubles, his parents' bitching, school, work.... He hated to cut the relaxation short, but the water was having trouble staying hot after so long, so he got out with a sigh and wrapped a towel around his waist. Well, home alone, so that was pretty much all he did, walking out of the bathroom with a quick peek to make sure Ethan hadn't come home in the meanwhile.

No one. He shrugged his damp shoulders a bit and sauntered into the kitchen, insanely hungry after missing out on lunch thanks to homework he hadn't finished in time for his next class. Never too late for lunch, he figured, even if it was a lot closer to dinner by this point, so he went about making himself some pasta, drying his hair with a towel as he waited for things to heat up.

Ethan arrived home about ten minutes after Sima began making his meal, his arrival announced by the roar of his motorcycle’s powerful engine as he revved it one last time before shutting it off. The Goth was dressed in his usual colour; black. His pants fit snugly, with buckled straps criss-crossing up along both legs as decoration, and several heavy belt chains hanging from the waistband. His shirt was a short-sleeve, button-up imitation of a school uniform shirt with a collar, but also black, with various ragged patches sewn on. Half the time, Ethan teetered on the edge of being a punk with the kind of things he liked to wear... but his love of that single, dark colour kept him in the gothic category.

His hair was up in that wild mane of spikes again, and dark eye-shadow made his violet eyes stand out even more starkly. Those eyes turned to Sima as he entered the room and spotted the other in the kitchen. He didn’t greet him, or even really acknowledge his presence, but instead headed on up the hall to his room. As far as he was concerned, the rule that they were ignoring each other was now in effect.

Once in his bedroom, he unlaced and kicked off his boots, dropping his bag onto his bed before stretching a bit with a sigh. That morning he’d been out and had bought some necessities, as was evident from the fact that his room now seemed decidedly less empty. Whether Sima liked it or not, Ethan had made himself comfortable; he was there to stay, at least for a while. Fumbling around in his bag for a moment, he pulled out his prize for the day; a small packet of the narrow Captain Black aromatic cigars he liked, the Jamaican Sweets flavour this time.

Smoking was a bad habit. People had told him that plenty of times. But there was hardly anything that calmed him down more than a cigarette, or indeed one of these sweet-scented cigars. He’d been smoking since he was seventeen years old, and had absolutely no desire to quit.

Pulling one of them out of the pack, he paused for a moment, and then slid it back in. No, not yet. He’d eat something first, sit down, relax... it would be like having it as dessert, then. He wouldn’t have to listen to Sima’s whining for too long after, either, since he planned on going out again soon, so he could leave if the nagging got too annoying.

Grinning, he tucked the pack back in one of the many pockets his pants had, before emerging from his room again, brushing past Sima in the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge.

Sima didn't pay any attention to the roar of the motorcycle, though he had heard it; he wasn't exactly familiar with that particular engine... yet. It could've been anyone's motorcycle, since a number of students in the building owned the noisy things. Sima was more absorbed in what he was doing, idly chopping up some vegetables, both for the pasta sauce and some to eat on the side—steamed broccoli sounded so good right now.

As he let the food sit on the stove, he went back into his room and slipped into a comfy pair of loungey pants since he didn't plan on going out later, and paired those with an incongruously preppy-looking collared shirt. Just in time, too; the moment he got back into the kitchen and resumed his attention to his food, the door swung open, followed shortly by a distinctive scent that could only be Ethan. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it made Sima's nose twitch. He didn't bother looking, but when he did turn finally, it was only to see that spiked hair disappear into the hallway.

Sima let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. It seemed some of the tension he'd washed away in the shower was creeping back up on him, thanks to his roommate of misfortune, which was more than enough to make him grumble quite audibly. God, of all the luck this week. Why couldn't he have a normal roommate, someone who wore actual colors and clothes that weren't covered in fishnet and unnecessary buckles and chains? He just didn't get it.

He was finishing up his late lunch, piling it all onto a plate, when Ethan reappeared, thankfully holding to his suggestion that they ignore each other. It was definitely tense and a bit awkward for Sima, and he almost felt that he should say something, but he couldn't think of anything even mildly polite. Sure, he had quite a few words, but none were exactly utterable unless he was in a masochistic mood. There was always the possibility of speaking them in another language, since he doubted Ethan had any knowledge of his native tongue, but he calmed himself enough to be a man and ignore Ethan too.

He wanted a drink, but Ethan was in the way, so he waited for him to move with a look on his face that could only be called bitchy. Stupid tiny apartment and its even tinier kitchen. There wasn't enough room for the two of them. Or maybe there was, and it was Sima's awful attitude that was too big for the apartment. Of course, he would've argued that fact, feeling perfectly justified in his dislike for Ethan; after all, the man had just invaded his territory without so much as an apology.

Then again, Sima wasn't exactly cooperating.

To illustrate this, he roughly shouldered past Ethan as his impatience ran thin, pushing him aside with a bump of his hips and a small shove of his arm.

"Move, please," he mumbled as he pushed past, entirely impolite despite the 'please' slapped onto the end of it. His nonchalant and almost pleasant tone just made it all the more condescending.

He casually swung the refrigerator door open like a stainless steel shield against any retribution for his hasty actions... not that Ethan couldn't just slam it on Sima while he searched around for some sweet mango juice, but he really didn't think the guy would bother. He was a little scary, even to Sima (who really was very ignorant when it came to the goth type, obviously), and seemed more the up-close and personal 'fist to the mouth' type.

Certainly, when Sima shoved Ethan aside, the Goth was less than amused... the jolt caused him to spill a fair bit of his drink over the counter, and he stared at it for a moment before rounding on Sima, who was, by then, hidden behind the door of the fridge.

The thought of slamming it shut on the other’s head was so tempting. Ethan’s jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed; well, it looked like ignoring the pompous little git was going to be more difficult than he’d expected it would be. It was as if Sima wanted to throw himself on the rails for Ethan to run over. Honestly, the Goth was even surprised at himself that he hadn’t yet decked the other art student.

Drawing a slow, deep breath to calm himself, Ethan stood very deliberately between Sima and the only way out of the kitchen; the fridge was right in the back, which meant Sima was now trapped with Ethan blocking his only way out, unless he wanted to clamber over the counter... but Ethan was more than ready to seize the little prick by the throat if he had to, not having any intention of letting him out that easily.

Sima had backed himself into a corner, quite literally. It was up to him to get out of it.

‘Generally,’ he said, his voice dangerously calm. ‘You wait for someone to actually move after you ask them to, before going past.’

Ethan did not often lose his temper... he didn’t like to. But congratulations to Sima; he was almost there.

Sima's hand closed around a little can of brightly-colored juice with vibrantly yellow-orange fruit printed on the front side. When he backed out of the fridge, Ethan was standing there like some giant black wall that was impossible to get by. Sima's eyes flitted towards the counter, then at the floor behind Ethan, and then met the other's eyes. There was more than just a hint of unnerving darkness in that calm voice, and it was taking a lot in Sima to keep his gaze steady and his shoulders held back.

And then, he just shrugged. A quick motion that clearly gave the impression that he just didn't care. A big fat whatever that he didn't have to say aloud.

"I'll keep it in mind, mom," Sima said, then shifted his weight onto one leg as he snapped open the can of juice. His dark eyes roamed over Ethan's figure, as if trying to work out a puzzle. "You're in my way again."

His voice was casual, almost a sigh, but inside he was feeling experimental, wondering how far he could push his new roommate. A strangely optimistic part of him hoped Ethan would just leave, but the majority of his logical brain was screaming at him to just stop and ignore Ethan, because he wouldn't last one minute if the goth got angry. He didn't look visibly angry, but the sense of sudden uncomfortable tension was there.

Even so, nothing had really forcibly pushed Sima into being polite, and he was so far into his rudeness that he couldn't see a non-awkward way to just drop it and be a little more sociable. He wasn't the type who could apologize and make friends; he didn't know how to. Even ignoring Ethan seemed a strange thing to suddenly take up. So he just dug himself deeper into the grave that Ethan no doubt was going to bury him in.

The last word had barely left Sima’s mouth before Ethan swung his fist in the direction of the other youth. He had not aimed for the other’s face, although he desperately wanted to... red-hot anger at Sima’s insolence was beginning to blind him to reason, and he responded the only way he knew how; with violence. He had beaten people within an inch of death for less, he didn’t know why Sima should get any special treatment.

His fist slammed into the juice can, inches from Sima’s face as the other had begun raising it to his lips again. Not only did it jar the can from the other student’s grip, but it left a deep dint in it, as well as spraying juice across the front of the fridge and part of the wall that it hit before clattering to the ground.

Before the can had even touched the floor, Ethan’s other hand whipped up and grabbed a fistful of Sima’s shirt at the front of his collar, getting a firm grip as he yanked him close and up in a way that meant his roommate’s toes barely touched the ground. His lips were drawn back in a vicious snarl, and his eyes were narrowed, blazing in anger.

‘Yeah,’ he growled. ‘You just keep going the way you’re going, goose boy. You’re lucky I haven’t yet bruised that pretty face of yours for being such a little fucking know-it-all... maybe I’ll skip the bruises and go onto other things, hm? Would that finally shut you the hell up?’

For good measure, he gave Sima a firm shake. ‘Go on! Say something! You seem to have a whole catalogue of that sort of shit filed aware to sneer at me when I’ve done nothing to prompt it! Or better yet, scream for help. You know, I really don’t think anyone would come running to see what was going on... I’ve been listening to what people say, and I’ve been doing a bit of investigating, myself. No one likes you, goose boy. Sima.’ Coming from Ethan, the name sounded like an insult. ‘I can’t say I blame them.’

Sima didn't have time to react, time to even think about what the loud clattering noise was, about the sudden feeling of being lifted off the floor, about anything. When he could think somewhat coherently again, he realized that Ethan had him by the collar. He hadn't thought a guy like him would be strong enough to actually, forcibly lift him off the floor, but then again, Sima wasn't exactly a heavy boy.

For once, the glare wasn't on his face, only a look of startled bewilderment, his eyes wide and lips barely parted as he struggled to do something other than look like a deer in the headlights. He didn't like this situation. Not at all. He was aware he'd pushed a bit too far. As his toes scraped the floor, his hands began to raise up, a rather late response, and he lifted one to grasp Ethan's wrist in a useless attempt to loosen the other's grip. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

He was trying to imagine what 'other things' Ethan could be talking about, but the only images he was getting were of himself, and in none of them was he still alive. A shiver ran down from his neck to his heart, but the next moment, he was shaken like he was nothing but a doll, bringing him back to his senses just a bit. No, he couldn't lose control, even in a situation like this. No matter how fast his heart was beating out of sudden fear, he had to gain some semblance of having the upper hand. He fought to harden his expression, biting his lip and frowning with an indignant look directed straight into Ethan.

"So what?" was the first thing he said, a hiss of a whisper. "I don't give a shit whether you or anyone else likes me or not. I don't want someone like you to like me; that would just be insulting." He managed to get more of his feet back onto the ground, perhaps by relaxing a little in Ethan's grasp, and his eyes narrowed more than usual. "Get your hands off me. Get off!" He began to struggle finally, smacking at Ethan's arms; it was pathetic how weak he realized he was, but it was something.

Ethan turned and slammed the other youth hard against the front of the fridge, pinning him there with both his hands at Sima’s throat, still entangled in the fabric of his shirt. His eyes blazed with a fury he was finding more and more difficult to rein in, and right then he looked like he might very well bash the other student’s head in for his insolence.

‘Manners would do you some good, goose boy.’ He snarled. ‘Especially around me. Manners will keep you alive. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not, and if you can’t ignore me, if you absolutely must say something, then maybe I will have you refer to me as ‘sir’, with an unpleasant little surprise waiting for every time you cross me or do otherwise.’ His voice was no more than a deadly hiss now as he continued. ‘Otherwise? Leave. Pack up your things and leave, because I sure as shit ain’t going anywhere. Get. Used. To. It.’

That said, he drew Sima in just enough so he could slam him against the front of the fridge one last time before he let him go; it took a hell of a lot of effort, he couldn’t seem to release his grip on the other for a moment, his rage had so completely taken control. He managed it after a moment though... managed to relax his iron hold on Sima so he could take a step back, glowering at him before turning away.

He didn’t glance back in the other’s direction even once as he stalked off to his room, to get changed into something more suited to going out; he didn’t want to hang around the apartment for food anymore, he’d already decided to go and grab something while he was out and about that evening. The anger Sima had ignited in him had gotten his blood boiling, and he needed to expend some of that vicious energy... he decided he was going to get good and drunk that night, maybe start a brawl or two. Or find someone to fuck. Sex was a great stress-reliever.

Sima winced and sucked in a sharp breath when his head smacked back against the hard surface of the fridge. Not only that, but the pressure around his neck and collar was too much for him to handle. Was he regretting being such a prick? Perhaps a bit. But all Ethan's heated talk about referring to him as 'sir'... well, Sima hoped the guy could joke even when he was so deadly serious and angry-looking, because that was something Sima would never do.

He was close to just blanking out completely, anything to get him through this strange sort of bullying (though if one had to be honest, it was entirely justified), when Ethan shoved him again before letting him go. His blank stare adjusted blurrily as he watched Ethan disappear, and he finally let out a shaky breath.

Well, at least now he knew his limits. He wasn't sure he wanted to test them again. Ethan was scary when he exploded like that, and Sima wasn't immune to intimidation. He was quivering as he hurried back into his room, shutting the door silently, like Ethan would come back in and beat him into the floor if he made any noise. He didn't want to come into any contact with Ethan for a long, long time. His legs were so shaky that he couldn't even make it to his bed, and he just slumped down onto the floor near the door, listening for any sign of Ethan.

No locks meant a heightened sense of danger. Sima couldn't believe he was so scared of the person he'd thought of as a total loser beneath his notice, but it seemed Ethan was ruling his life lately, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Finally he crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his body, feeling anxious and out of control thanks to that short but explosive situation. He wanted to forget it'd happened, but it kept playing back in his mind, so intrusive he couldn't bring himself to work on school things, and almost enough that he couldn't get to sleep, but he managed the latter soon enough. A nap would keep him up all night, but surely Ethan would be sleeping then... or so he thought.

Of course, Ethan wasn’t at all planning to be asleep in the middle of the night... after Sima withdrew to his room, the Goth got changed into a different set of clothes and emerged from his own; he now wore tight leather pants that hardly left anything to the imagination, along with a black singlet over a long-sleeved net shirt. His makeup was exaggerated and dark, making him look even more threatening than usual, if that was even possible. Bracelets and cuffs adorned his arms, and he wore a spiked collar around his neck which—although a collar might be associated with submission—simply added to the overall image.

He glared at the door to Sima’s bedroom as if it would penetrate the wood and pierce the youth behind it. Huffing in disgust, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door, deciding to keep Sima off his mind for the rest of his evening.


It was ridiculously late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—by the time Ethan stumbled in the door again in a slightly less graceful manner. His arrival had been announced by the motorcycle growl just before, and he wasn’t alone... a smaller, more slender figure came in after him, giggling softly even as Ethan tried to quiet them.

‘Shut up,’ Ethan hissed softly, although there was no malice in his voice... in fact, he sounded like he was trying to hold back laughter himself. ‘I’m living with someone. They’re a pain in the ass, I don’t want to wake them in case they start bitching again...’

‘Mm, let them hear...’ the other voice was male, but more effeminate, and a slender hand reached up to hook a finger in Ethan’s collar to pull him down, effectively silencing them both as lips met and the Goth pressed his latest conquest against the front door for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the other’s body.

The young man he’d found was actually no stranger to him; Joshua Satoshi was a teenager Ethan had met a couple of years back, and probably the closest thing the arrogant Goth had to a friend. Like Ethan, Joshua was fond of the colour black, and of tattoos and piercings... the difference being though that he loved piercings to a point where he had... a lot of them. All along his ears, a ring in his lip, eyebrows, tongue, bellybutton, nipples... he even had two little diamond studs in the web of skin between his index finger and thumb. He was an attractive young Asian youth, slender and easiest to describe as ‘pretty’, much like Sima, although Ethan had not specifically chosen Joshua that night for that purpose.

They’d run into each other at the nightclub, it had been a pleasant surprise and they’d enjoyed each other’s company. After a few drinks, they decided to enjoy each other’s company a little more... which was when Ethan had suggested they go back to the student apartment. He and Joshua had slept together before and had been in far less savoury places, but perhaps Ethan still felt enough spite for his roommate to invade his territory a little more.

‘Mm, I can’t believe I actually fucking missed you, Joshua...’ Ethan growled softly, grazing his teeth along the side of the youth’s neck. ‘You’re hot... it’s been too long.’

‘You’re drunk.’ The younger of the two chuckled breathlessly. ‘You don’t miss me... mm, come on, show me to your room.’

‘Fuck my room, there’s a perfectly comfortable couch right here.’

Joshua squealed in startled delight as Ethan shoved him. His back hit the back of the couch and he almost toppled right over it, his balance all gone from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed earlier. He found himself pinned there when Ethan pressed firmly against him, his fingers digging into the boy’s hips as they kissed again, Joshua’s fingers sliding up into the nest of spikes of Ethan’s hair.

Ethan didn’t care if he woke Sima, really... if the other student emerged, Ethan would be more than happy to clout his housemate again if it would send him scurrying back into his room.

Sima awoke groggily, astonished that there was no sun shining through his window. In fact, there was just darkness, save for the blue glow of his alarm clock on the table beside him, black LED display reading far too early in the morning, hours until the sun would be up. He didn't know why he'd awakened until he heard voices just past the wall, reminding him of the reason. They were too muffled to make out, but clearly male, and...

Sima actually blushed. No, they couldn't be doing... that. Wait a minute, this was his apartment. The only other person who could be there was Ethan, and he didn't really seem like the gay type to Sima. Maybe he'd just brought a boyish girl home. Ugh, he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to know. He lifted one of his pillows and buried his face into the sheets, tugging the pillow down onto the back of his head to drown out the noise.

He almost fell asleep again when there was a sudden thud against the wall, as if the sofa had smacked back against it. Startled at just what the hell they might be doing out there, Sima lifted his head and stared curiously at the wall, like if he looked hard enough, he'd be able to see through it. Not that he wanted to; he was actually a little afraid of what might be happening on the other side. Not all his imaginative fill-ins were as innocent as sex, either, especially not after the way Ethan had manhandled him earlier. Who knew? Maybe Ethan was some sadist who just got off on beating people up all the time. Sima didn't know him, so how could he tell?

Sleepily, he climbed out of bed and went to his door, cautiously and silently opening it a crack. Oh, those sounds were unmistakable. They were at the very least making out, and in his living room. Sima's mouth dropped open and his eyes narrowed, absolutely pissed off that Ethan would do that on furniture they had to share. How disgusting! Sima was horrified, and suddenly pissed off. But he was a little apprehensive... he didn't want to barge in and scream if it meant Ethan shoving him around again. He hadn't liked that too much.

He stood there in darkness, just listening and debating internally. Figuring he seemed more like a pervert this way if they just happened to move it to the bedroom, Sima got up the courage to fling the door open and creep into the hallway. He hesitated a bit at the end of the hall, just before stepping out into the open.

Oh, Christ. That definitely was not a boyish chick. That was just a boy. Sima swallowed hard, still going unnoticed by the no-doubt very into-it pair, fighting to get his voice back from the depths of shock. He looked away nervously, then back, then away again, not sure where to look as he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something. He really was such a prude, but then again, he hadn't really had experience in these things, a fairly pathetic fact for a guy his age. He just wasn't interested. But now was no time to think about such things.

"Ex-excuse me!" Sima exclaimed, but his voice was unsteady. "Some... some of us are trying to sleep, all right? C-could—just. Keep it down... and... other people have to... to sit there." It was a lame ending to what was a little promising at first, but he'd lost it halfway through. He was entirely flustered. What did a person say in this kind of situation? Sima sure as hell didn't know, and looked away nervously, no courage in him to meet Ethan's eyes.

Ethan didn’t even turn away from what he was doing, which was trailing his lips down the side of Joshua’s neck while his hands moved to unfasten the tight PVC shorts the youth was wearing. He quite simply pretended Sima wasn’t there.

With one hand still buried in Ethan’s hair, Joshua opened his eyes at the sound of the indignant voice and smiled at Sima, chuckling breathlessly for a moment, the sound followed by a gasp and a flutter of lashes as Ethan’s teeth grazed his skin. ‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ he said to Sima, his voice soft and warm, almost soothing. ‘We won’t make a mess, promise... ah-!’ he gasped again as Ethan’s hand moved between his legs, grabbing him roughly, which made him shudder in delight.

Only now that Joshua had acknowledged Sima’s presence, did Ethan draw back so he could turn to face the other student. His eyes smouldered with a mix of lust brought on by Joshua, and irritation at being interrupted in such a moment. ‘Run off back to bed, goose boy.’ He rumbled, straightening a bit. ‘It’s none of your business what I do here.’

The way he was now partially undressed meant his tattoos where in full view, the black dragon fully visible, snaking from his elbow around his arm and up over his shoulder. It was meant to be a threatening symbol, and it did its job well.

‘Now, now...’ Joshua ran a gentle hand along the line of Ethan’s jaw. ‘You’ve had a bit to drink, you’re somewhat more short-tempered than normal.’ It was both a casual observation and a warning to Sima all at once. ‘Calm down... introduce me.’

Ethan growled in annoyance. ‘Why? I’d rather pretend he doesn’t exist. A courtesy I wish he’d return.’

Ignoring him, the other leaned forward a bit. ‘I’m Joshua.’ The boy smiled sweetly, though he didn’t make a move to go over and greet Sima properly; he remained close to Ethan, keeping him reined in, as it were, with gentle touches and distracting kisses. ‘Ethan and I go way back.’

For once, Sima was all too willing to agree with Ethan and just ignore him entirely, to simply pretend he wasn't standing here watching this little sexcapade unfold. But Ethan's little boyfriend was making that task rather difficult, actually... talking to him. Sima couldn't even look at either of them, and just looked at the floor, wiggling his toes a bit nervously as his eyes settled on them.

"Um, right, I can... see that," Sima replied. "That's... nice." No, in fact, it was just unpleasant and thoroughly distressing to Sima, apparently, who couldn't make it any more obvious he was a virgin and a total prude, raised in a household full of God-fearing conservatives.

"I'm...." Joshua was so nice Sima almost played along and introduced himself, but then he was aware of the absurdity of the current situation. "I'm... going to bed. I..."

Keep it down, he could've repeated. Please stop fucking on my couch worked too. But he didn't say anything more, just glanced at the pair once more. Regretting that decision immediately as he blushed freely, he disappeared back into the hallway, and then into the safety of his bedroom.

Sima sat down on his bed, hugging his goose-print pillow close to his chest. Why had that bothered him so much? Well, sex and affectionate behavior always had bothered him, but never that much. Perhaps because this time it was up-close, way too close for his liking. Sure, he was twenty years old, but when it came to sex, he might as well have been five. His family had placed such strict rules on things like that, so strict that Sima hadn't been able to watch films that were okay for twelve-year-olds until he was nearly eighteen. Dating was out of the question. He'd barely dated a girl for a high school dance in his last year, but that had gone nowhere. The most he did was kiss her, and that... that had been so awkward he did his best to forget it.

If Ethan was really like... that, then Sima wasn't sure he could take it. Bringing guys like that home... how often would he do it? And the most disturbing part, to Sima, was that despite all the piercings, the delicate Asian features were easy to see. Much like himself, and that was uncomfortable at best. The last thing Sima wanted to be was Ethan's type, at least physically. But he consoled himself with the fact that he was most likely blowing that out of proportion. He had no piercings, not even his natural black hair, since he dyed it a soft brown. He wasn't 'hardcore' in the least, no, he was just... laughably clean-cut.

So, with that thought (and a pillow over his head), Sima went back to sleep.

Annoyed by the interruption, but not willing to let it ruin his night, Ethan turned back to the Asian youth at his side. Joshua smiled at him and kissed him again, pulling him down onto the couch as he wound his arms around Ethan, and the two forgot all about Sima as they focused only on each other.


By morning, both Ethan and Joshua were fast asleep; Ethan had returned to his bed, since he really wasn’t the type to cuddle after sex, and Joshua had remained on the couch... a pile of latex and fishnet on the floor was a result of the clothing they’d shed, and indeed, the gothic youth was still quite naked.

He was covered though. By Sima’s blanket. Ethan had grabbed it and tossed it to him when they were done, gruffly telling him to stay on the couch. It was the nicest anyone ever got from Ethan; most of them were usually told to leave when he was done with them. Joshua had simply smiled in response and had taken the offered blanket, settling comfortably down on the couch to sleep away the remaining few hours of darkness as Ethan retreated to his room. Neither of them were apparently worried about the fact that Sima would probably come out to make breakfast at some point.

Joshua had found Sima’s awkwardness endearing, and he hoped to have a proper conversation with the art student, if that were possible... he knew what a handful Ethan could be, and he had seen the fear flash through the youth’s eyes when he’d looked briefly at the intimidating man. He hoped he could ease that fear a little, but since he didn’t know what Ethan might have done to instil that fear in Sima, he didn’t know if it was possible to get rid of it.

Ethan hadn’t set an alarm, and snored contently on into morning, even when the sun came in through his window and hit him in the face; he simply rolled over and settled down again. Entangled in the goose blanket, Joshua remained in a light sleep as well, though he was more likely to wake up at any noise than Ethan was.

Sima woke a little later than usual thanks to the night's interruption, but he'd forgotten all about it, strangely enough. He even went through his whole morning shower and routine without once recalling it, as sleep-dazed as he was. But when he walked out into the living area with a yawn, it all flooded back. Perhaps that was all thanks to the visual aid on the couch, under his blanket.

Asshole! Sima was instantly wide awake, fuming at the fact that Ethan would do that. It couldn't have been accidental; oh no, he knew it had been on purpose. He stormed right up to the intruder, ready to grab his blanket away, but he hesitated last-moment. His hand lingered in the air above Joshua's shoulder. Well, he had been relatively polite. As polite as one could be in such an awkward situation, anyway. Would it really hurt Sima to just let him have it for now? Besides, he looked awfully... naked... under it. Sima would rather have him covered up.

Flushing a little, he stepped away from the pierced youth and into the kitchen, cautiously eyeing him for any signs of stirring as he went. He quietly started on breakfast, but maybe pancakes were a bad idea, as he didn't realize just how loud mixing the stuff up got. His back was turned, so he didn't know if the other woke up, and really, he didn't want to know. He just wanted to ignore him, childishly pretend he didn't exist. Because him existing just brought back visual memories that Sima really didn't need or want at the moment.

For some reason it was just so unnerving that Ethan could be like... that with anyone. Sima couldn't comprehend it. So he'd been drunk, according to Joshua, but that smoldering look in Ethan's eyes.... Sima shivered. It was a frightening look for so many varying reasons, many of which Sima's mind wouldn't even allow him to ponder. The guy was like an unfeeling rock, from the looks of things, but apparently Sima was more of an emotionless ball of clay than he was.

Ha, if only. He had been so stricken by such a commonplace display that he was a lot antsier than usual, an unusual hesitance in his actions that he only displayed when he was stressed. When he was stressed, he was a useless puddle of goo, prone to silly outbursts, schoolgirl blushing (apparently, since he couldn't stop every time he even thought about what had happened), and even crying if pushed far enough. Thankfully at the moment it wasn't that bad. No, it was mild enough that it merely made him seem like the timid dork he really was inside.

Even though Sima did his very best to be quiet in the kitchen, it wasn’t long before Joshua stirred on the couch, murmuring softly as he rolled over and planted his nose into the cushions. After that it was only a matter of seconds of not being able to breathe before he opened his eyes and blinked blearily, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

His short black hair with its long fringe was messy from sleeping, and he ran a hand with painted nails back through it to rid himself of some of the knots as he looked over toward the kitchen where the sounds that had woken him had come from. He almost looked surprised to see Sima, as if he’d forgotten that there was another person besides Ethan who was living here, even though they hadn’t seen each other all that long ago.

‘Oh, hey there.’ Smiling, he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders to keep warm a bit. When he did that, it hid bruises on his neck and torso that hadn’t been there the night before. He knew not everyone was as open-minded about the things he liked to do—or rather have done to him—as he was. ‘I hope you don’t mind me crashing on your couch... Ethan said it was okay, since it was so late and everything and he was my ride here... I didn’t really have a way to get home.’ He yawned, covering his mouth with one hand. ‘Boy, he really knows how to wear me out...’

Standing up and still using the blanket to keep himself decent, Joshua stretched contently. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be out of your hair soon. All I ask is that I can use your shower briefly. Please? I’d rather not go home like this.’

Honestly, he could have if he had to... he'd been in worse situations before, but never by choice. He realised—unlike Ethan—that they'd probably been a little invasive, coming in the way they had, and he wouldn't blame Sima for simply booting him out, but he hoped the other would allow him to stay for a little longer and get his bearings.

Sima froze when he heard the pleasant voice that was Joshua's from somewhere behind him. He still didn't turn around, not entirely sure the other boy had enough manners to keep dressed. Well, if he had no issues having sex there, Sima assumed maybe he didn't have any problems being naked either. But when Joshua addressed him more directly, mentioning the shower, Sima was forced to chance a look.

Oh, thank God. His abused little goose blanket was in place, covering everything it needed to. He wasn't quite sure he could ever use it again, but at least it was useful now. Sima avoided Joshua's gaze by pouring the pancake batter into a pan. It seemed for a moment he wouldn't reply at all, but he simply had to think about it. Usually his answer would've been a flat-out no, but Joshua really was too nice, and Sima was far too flustered. A bad combination. Besides, maybe there was something about them both being Asian that helped along his unusual answer.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Go ahead. If..." He paused a moment, feeling unsure of himself, then went on. "If you need some clean clothes... I have some."

Well, they weren't too different in size, so Sima figured he might as well. He hadn't seen the other smoke or do anything else he hated (besides his rather detestable sense of style) and he really doubted Joshua would need to anyway. He was definitely a lot more bearable than Ethan was. How the two of them got along to the point of consensual sex (consensual being the key word), Sima just didn't know.

‘Thank you!’ Joshua looked genuinely grateful, and beamed brightly for a moment. ‘I won’t need any spare clothes, I have a spare set in my bag, but thank you for the offer. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to find and use Ethan’s towel, and not yours.’ He picked his bag up off the floor and wandered off towards the bathroom; he had obviously been told by Ethan where it was, since he didn’t need to ask for directions.

The bathroom door shut behind him, and moments later the sound of water started up.

By the time Joshua was done, the whole apartment smelled of pancakes from Sima cooking breakfast. The young Goth sniffed the air as he towelled himself off and groaned softly; he was starving, but would wait until Ethan got up to ask for breakfast. He didn’t know Sima, and didn’t feel right asking for food after he’d already used his couch, shower and blanket. Well, it had to be Sima’s blanket, he very much doubted it was Ethan’s.

Hoping that the older, more intimidating man was up, Joshua peeked out of the bathroom but didn’t see him and so wandered off to the kitchen and lounge area again, dressed in a simple white shirt and loose black tracksuit pants. No, no Ethan. Just Sima and pancakes.

‘You never did introduce yourself to me, last night. Admittedly, we met under rather, um... unusual circumstances.’ Joshua laughed. ‘I am sorry about that... we’d both had a bit much to drink and we got...’ he waved a hand idly. ‘...carried away. What’s your name? Have you been living with Ethan long?’

Sima was getting started on his pancakes in the kitchen, just standing there eating them on the counter. He could've gone into the living room, but he didn't want to sit on any of the couches in there, or put his food on any surface. He had no idea which ones they'd been on. He stared at the broad coffee table in a bit of horror, appetite waning just a bit.

When Joshua came out, Sima almost didn't recognize him. He looked a lot better in clothes than he did in a silly goose blanket, though, that was certain. But he was still feeling a little timid this morning, and avoided looking at him even now. He just forked a piece of his syrupy pancakes into his mouth, staring down at the food instead of at Joshua, though the other boy was talking to him.

He wanted to snap something like, "Carried away? Is that what they're calling it now?" but decided against it.

"Uhm... Sima," he replied simply, glancing up at Joshua from under his glasses. "Sima Yan. And no, the guy just moved in. Are you... his boyfriend?"

The way he stated it was a little cute, so naïve. But he really couldn't be sure. They looked awfully familiar with each other the previous night, but even Sima wasn't stupid enough to realize they could just be mild acquaintances, or perhaps not even know each other at all. But Joshua seemed a little more friendly with Ethan than that, so Sima thought he'd ask. Feeling dumb anyway, he quickly added more.

"I mean... I didn't really think he was the type who'd be into other guys."

Well, that just sounded even stupider, so Sima went back to looking at his food, mouth set in more of a frown than in his usual scowl. Not saying anything more, he offered up another plate Joshua's way, atop which was a stack of more pancakes. Today, he'd made extra, and he wasn't entirely sure why. There was even enough for Ethan, if he wanted any. Sima's glance turned nervously towards the hallway, as if just thinking about Ethan would rouse him from his sleep.

Gratefully accepting the pancakes, Joshua thanked Sima and leaned back against the kitchen counter as he rolled one of the pancakes up and took a bite out of the end of it. It was so good to have a hot breakfast, he thought to himself. It had been a long night, and he’d been feeling a little queasy.

‘His boyfriend?’ Joshua echoed, sounding more than a little amused. ‘Oh, sweetie, no. No, definitely not.’ He chuckled softly. ‘Ethan... doesn’t really have a type... gender certainly doesn’t matter to him. They don’t have to have a personality, they don’t have to have... well, anything but good looks, really.’ He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully before continuing. ‘On the surface, he appears very shallow, like he’d be happy sleeping with someone different every night, but I think he’s just the kind who’s afraid of commitment.’

Shrugging slightly, he sighed softly and looked toward the hall as well. ‘We’ve known each other for a few years. I had a crush on him once, maybe even loved him a little... but like you said, he’s just not ‘the type’. We’re friends and that’s cool.’

Smiling, he looked over at Sima again. ‘I bet you’re thinking, ‘How could anyone care about that guy when he’s such an asshole’, right? I saw the look in your eyes when you tried telling him off... don’t worry, he makes most people nervous. It’s tough getting through that nasty personality of his but... honestly, he’s not too bad, as long as you don’t rub him the wrong way.’

‘Well isn’t this the sweetest little scene.’ Came a familiar, sneering tone from the doorway that led into the room. Ethan leaned against the wall a moment as he appraised the two in the kitchen for a moment, before sauntering over to Joshua and seizing him possessively around the waist. Leaning in, he whispered with his lips by the youth’s ear so Sima couldn’t hear him. ‘Say one more word about me to him and I will tear you apart, Joshua.’

Joshua shivered, his back stiff, but rather than looking afraid he smiled. ‘Yes, Ethan... whatever you say. Did you sleep well?’

Grunting in response, the Goth grabbed a mug to begin making coffee. Joshua seemed mostly amused as he caught Sima’s gaze and shrugged.

Ha. 'Rub him the wrong way'. It was a little too late for that. Or a lot too late. Sima didn't think he and Ethan could ever be reconciled to a point where they could live together in the same place peacefully, nor did he really have any desire to be reconciled. Despite what Joshua said, putting Ethan in a rather human light, Sima didn't think Ethan could be friends with anyone.

This was only strengthened when the devil himself walked in with that vile tone of his, signaling the start of Sima's bad mood. The brunette instinctively stiffened up, looking a little less awkward than he had the entire morning with Joshua. Like a wounded animal, he didn't want to betray any signs of weakness to a predator. He put on his best glare and directed it on its target: Ethan, who was grabbing on his so-called friend and whispering something in his ear.

Afraid they'd start sucking face right there, Sima just looked on uncomfortably as he ate his breakfast, sipping at his coffee in a manner that could only be described as snobbish. He couldn't help but wonder what Ethan had told Joshua. Perhaps an insult, but no, he could say that to Sima's face. Well, he could only wonder. Neither of them were going to tell him, and he wasn't going to inquire.

He was suddenly a lot quieter than he had been, the desire to talk to Joshua suddenly gone. He'd been a little more talkative with the friendly boy around, but with Ethan in the room, the atmosphere seemed suddenly stale and heavy, too heavy to speak.