Cal was pulling his credit card from his wallet when someone banged a sports drink down between him and the slightly startled cashier.

“You left come on my couch.”

Cal sighed and smiled apologetically at the poor girl who was staring at Harry with her mouth open and eyes wide. “Sorry. It’s Tourette’s. He can’t help it. And no, I didn’t.”

She gave both of them the side eye, scanned the bottle, and resumed chewing her gum. “Suuure. Seventeen-eighty-five.”

“Then why is there dried jizz on my couch, huh?”

Cal forced a smile like nothing was wrong, swiped his card, picked up his groceries, and left before they could ban him for life.

He handed Harry his drink when they were outside. “It’s not mine. I followed your clean-up instructions to the letter. Which, in my professional opinion, are borderline obsessive by the way. I even mopped your fucking shower.”

“You’re sociology teacher, not a psychiatrist, stop diagnosing me.” Harry hmmed. “I suppose it isn’t like you to make a mess. Maybe it was Mike…?”

“Don’t you have a spreadsheet for this stuff? And when did you get back anyway?”

Harry swigged his Mountain Dew. “I do have a fucking awesome spreadsheet actually, but things got a little out of hand when I was away. And I got in this morning. I think I’m a little jet-lagged.”

Cal nodded. “You look like shit. How was Paris?”

“Exhausting. Kinda fun but I think I pulled a hamstring.”

“Poor you. Getting flown to Europe to fuck. It sounds terrible.”

“Hey,” Harry scowled. “First off, he booked me a ticket in coach, can you believe it? And B, the guy is seventy-five. I mean, like Warren Beatty seventy-five, not Brando seventy-five but still. Coach.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

“Whatever. How was Mister-just-this-once?” Harry smirked, but Cal was surprised to see that he looked a little concerned underneath it.

“Fine. Uses too much teeth but fine.”

“No wonder you want a regular spot.” They walked up the steps to Cal’s building, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm before Cal put the key in the lock. “Hey.” His voice was soft and Cal started feeling defensive before Harry even started. “Look, I’ll gladly let you have the place if you want to use it but do you really want to do this? I know it’s just this one guy but there was a reason you quit this. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting hurt again.”

Cal kind of wanted to laugh it off and say Christ, how jet-lagged are you? But instead, he raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? Last month you were trying to strong arm me back into the life and now this?”

Harry shrugged and looked a little guilty. “I don’t know. I guess I had some time to think. About why you quit in the first place.” Cal’s defenses shot up, but Harry was ready for them and stopped Cal from turning away. “Hey. Don’t. You don’t have to talk about it but I was there remember? When I set this thing up for you, I really thought you’d get laid and that would be that. But now—I can tell you’re getting involved already and if he’s doing the same—”

Harry was right but Cal didn’t want to admit it. Not that he was getting too involved but he just couldn’t compare what had happened before to how things were with Ben.

Cal chewed his lip for a second, then shrugged. “You checked him out, right?” Harry nodded. “Well, then. It’s not like I’m standing on some corner at two in the morning wearing booty shorts. And he certainly hasn’t overstepped at all. If I felt uncomfortable for a second you know I’d be out of there.”

“He gave you his number instead of going through me.”

Cal sighed and opened the front door. “Yeah, but he didn’t ask for my number, I offered it. Plus, he doesn’t ask me personal questions and doesn’t try to tell me anything about him. He’s not—” Cal adjusted the bag in his arms as they started walking down the dark hallway. “I just don’t have a bad feeling about him.”

“I’m having plenty of bad feelings about where you fucking live right now,” Harry muttered behind him. Cal huffed out a laugh, mostly as he could see Harry’s point. This place was a dump compared to Harry’s which is why they spend most of their time there, away from the screaming neighbors and stench of vomit in the hallway.

Once they actually got inside his apartment it wasn’t so bad. It was just one room with a pullout and a crappy TV but it had been all Cal had been able to afford at such short notice when he had to move out of his last place. He just hadn’t gotten around to finding anywhere else yet.

Cal dropped the sack of groceries on the small table and started to unpack. “Y’know if you had told me you were going to be back today, I could have made you dinner at your place.”

Harry huffed in derision as he flopped back to lie on Cal’s unmade bed. “I’m not sure I trust your culinary skills anymore given what’s coming out of that bag. With that amount of Mac n’ Cheese, I can only assume you’re planning on being an orca for Halloween this year.”

“Yeah, well, we can all have the metabolism of a stick insect.” Cal had stuffed the last box into his refrigerator before he realized he was still waiting for some smart ass remark that should have been bandied back to him.

Except Harry hadn’t lost his edge so much as fallen fast asleep where he’d sprawled out. Cal walked over, trying not to wake him and drew the bottle from his loose fingers. When he chanced laying a blanket over his friend, Harry stirred a little but only to snuggle himself down. Cal smiled and had to resist planting a kiss on his forehead. “I’m glad you’re home safe too, Harry.”