Orlando glanced up from his sprawl of books and notebooks scattered across the table at the back end of the library. Josh Hartnett, one of his and Karl's track mates and crew, was unwinding a colorful, Harry Potter-long scarf from around his neck and shrugging out of his pea coat, looking all authoritative and determined. Which was sort of scary. Josh on a mission was a little like Coach Morgan before a big game – the stuff of nightmares. Except that it was slightly (but only slightly) easier to ignore Josh.
Luckily for Josh, however, Orlando was dying for a break from studying. If he had to look at one more economic model, he'd throw himself naked into the lake. Dying of hypothermia had to be a better alternative.
Karl, sitting next to Orlando, blinked owlishly from behind his glasses, and ran a distracted hand through his hair, yanking it out of its ponytail holder. Immediately, it started curling about his neck in a really distracting as all hell, really hot kind of way. (His books, it should be noted, were in a nice, anally neat stack right at his elbow.) Chad, sitting across from the two of them, also looked up from his ridiculously high pile of books. The library was surprisingly empty this close to finals, but Orlando thought it had more to do with the fact that the heat was wonky in the building of late (veering from Arctic cold to Sahara hot – tonight it was more Sahara, thank God) than anything else. Well, that and the Starbucks had a new smokin' hot barista working the register. And free Wi-Fi.
"Good for you," Orlando finally said to Josh, in his best helpful voice, when Josh just continued to stand there, looking like he expected the three of them to cheer or salute or something. He'd learned a long time ago that it was always best to approach Josh with caution. (And while Orlando wasn't really cautious about most things, Josh was pretty much the exception to every rule.)
Josh set his backpack down on the table and took the empty chair next to Chad. And, after glancing around the room in the manner of an old school spy about to import some super-secret information about the whereabouts of the Nazis or Commies or SPECTRE or whatever, leaned in to whisper, "I think I'm going to woo her with Bécquer."
The "her" in question was, of course, Zoe Saldana, who shared Professor Bean's Shakespeare Tragedies class with the rest of them, and was the current object of Josh's affections. Lust. Hormones. Whatever you want to call it. Josh was a little like a serial monogamist, but only when it came to pursuing women, not actually keeping them. He tended to focus on one at a time to the exclusion of everyone and everything else until he got it, then it was onto the next girl. Orlando was certain Josh was going to wind up in jail some day. Or rule the world. Same thing, really.
"Seriously, you are not serious," Chad stated, giving Josh a look like he thought Josh was slightly retarded. Chad always gave this look to Josh. Then again, Chad pretty much gave that look to just about everyone. It was kind of part of his charm, unless he was aiming the look at Orlando, and then it was just funny.
Josh didn't look too perturbed by the look. By then, Orlando figured he was used to it. Instead, he snagged one of the dwindling bags of mini pretzels from the middle of the table and immediately started chomping, ignoring the glares from the students at the table next to theirs. "What's wrong with Bécquer?" Josh asked. "He was a genius."
"And was obsessed with his brother," Karl added, pushing his glasses up his nose. His right cheek was smudged with ink from his pen. Orlando wet his thumb to try to clean it, but just wound up making it worse. Thank God Karl wasn't the vain type.
"So?" Josh asked. "Zoe's minoring in Spanish Lit – her friend Rachel spilled all kinds of dirt on her over iced coffee earlier – so she'll appreciate the gesture. Victory will be mine."
"I thought Bécquer was gay," Orlando replied, although he wasn't sure why he bothered to try to discourage Josh. The only person more stubborn than Josh when he got an idea in his head was Chad. Or maybe Karl when they were going for 4th and short with the game on the line. "I mean, wouldn't that be weird? You trying to woo a chick using a dead gay poet's words, I mean?"
"Bécquer wasn't gay. You're thinking of Llorca."
"Dunno who he is." Orlando had enough problems with remembering English authors for the lit classes he was being forced to take. There was a reason why he was majoring in Economics.
"He's the dead gay one," Karl grinned, knocking his knee against Orlando's as he grabbed his own bag of pretzels. They were going to have to do another snack run soon. Orlando was already out of Peanut M&Ms and he just couldn't concentrate on studying without them.
"Because, of course, Spanish literature has only given us one dead gay poet," Chad said, with a perfect eyeroll.
Josh batted the back of Chad's head, then ducked out of the way of the retaliatory swipe. "You guys're all missing the bigger picture here."
Personally, Orlando thought the 'bigger picture' could be on IMAX and it wouldn't make a difference. No one saw the big picture the way that Josh did. "And what's that?"
"Zoe will be mine before Christmas break."
"In your dreams, Ebenezer. You've got as much chance of that as I have of getting my own Christmas miracle."
"A new magma formation?" Orlando guessed.
Chad just sighed. "Stop trying to act like you know what a magma formation is. Do I try to act like I have any idea what Adam Smith's free market thingymabob is about? And, anyway, I was talking about Leighton Meester naked in my bed, which would be even hotter than magma formations, so there."
Orlando had to admit he was sort of proud of Chad for knowing who Leighton Meester was. Chad was even more pop-culturally retarded than Karl, which was saying something. Thank God they both had Orlando to keep them on the right path. And to teach them the difference between Kanye West and Timbaland and the joys of watching Girls Aloud videos on YouTube.
"Besides, Josh, Zoe's so far out of your league that she may as well be in another galaxy," Orlando added, because a) it was obvious, and b) needling Josh was almost as much fun as needling Chad. For different reasons.
"I am a total catch," Josh protested, pointing at himself in a total check out my awesomeness sort of move. It was really too bad that he was wearing a plaid flannel shirt. Seriously, did he think this was the 90s or something?
"She's smarter than you, prettier than you, is probably gonna be President one day or head of the CIA or something, and she has a thing for older men, which you're not," Karl said, ticking off each point on his fingers, then waggling them at Josh. "I'd pretty much say that puts her out of your league."
"Trifling obstacles easily overcome," Josh replied, with a negligent wave of his hand.
"You are one delusional fruitcake."
"Perception is unreliable," Josh replied to Chad, with a dimpled, sunny smile that was probably charming to most chicks, but was sort of scary to look at it. Josh just had so many teeth. "You simply perceive that I'm deluded when, in fact, I'm completely sane, which just proves that perception isn't reality."
"Man, I will be the happiest person on campus when you move on from Descartes to Nietzsche," Orlando stated. It was hard enough trying to decipher Josh on a good day, but when he started spouting all of his meta-philosophical-whatever the hell, it was like Chad explaining the geological composition of the Colorado Plateau. Total mumbo jumbo.
"Hey, don't knock Descartes," Chad said. "He was a mathematician first, you know."
"Which might be the only thing you and Josh agree on," Karl commented.
"Most great friendships are founded by what you don't have in common."
Orlando started tapping his pen against his thigh as he started trying to puzzle that one out. Why he continued banging his head against the brick wall that was arguing with a philosophy major was a mystery. And probably explained a lot of things about him, if he was in the mood for self-reflection. Which he tried very hard to avoid doing, because it was really depressing, and he had better things to do with his time. Like daydreaming about Professor Sinclair wanking off for him in a private show, and thinking about Karl all naked and wet and soapy in the shower...
"I am totally lost," he finally said, when he regained his train of thought.
"It's through how we're all different, yet the same, that we all connect," Josh said, with a shrug. "And it's why I know I'll get Zoe. We don't have to have anything in common to have chemistry."
"So why try to woo her with Bécquer?" Karl asked, in that very earnest, serious way he had, which was also hella sexy when he wasn't using it on Orlando. Because then it was just frustrating.
"Mostly because I want to keep my Spanish sharp," Josh said. "I'm going to Sevilla after grad, and I refuse to be one of those tourists with the little translation books asking where the bathroom is in atrocious high-school Spanish."
"Only you would want a girlfriend based on your future travel plans," Karl said, shaking his head. Several strands of hair fell across his forehead at the movement. Orlando absently brushed them back, fingers lingering on deceptively soft skin.
"That's not the only reason I want to go out with her. Have you actually looked at her legs in a mini-skirt?"
"Every chance I get," Karl grinned, and Orlando laughed outright at the dumbfounded look on Josh's face.
"I thought you and Orlando were domestic and monogamous and all that."
"Well, yeah, but we're still dudes," Orlando said, snagging Karl's hand to lace their fingers together. "That's like saying I don't have the right to ogle Drew in a tight shirt. I'm in a relationship, not dead."
Chad just let out a small groan like he wished there was something stronger than water at the table. "Okay, really, doesn't anyone else think it's weird that you're talking about ogling Karl's ex-girlfriend?"
"What's weird is you and Misha," Orlando replied, and inwardly chuckled at Chad's confused expression.
"I thought you liked him."
"I love the dude like a bro. But that doesn't mean that you two aren't the weirdest couple since Professors Mortensen and Tyler got together."
"Get out." Josh's jaw dropped like he was in an old Warner Brothers cartoon. Once again, he gave the rest of the room a look before turning back to Orlando like Orlando'd given him the correct answers for all of Professor Blanchett's pop quizzes. "Professor Tyler, the former model that teaches Comparative Religion?"
Orlando jerked a thumb at Karl. "Tell them what you told me."
"You weren't supposed to tell anyone," Karl said, but Orlando could tell he wasn't really pissed. When Karl got truly pissed (which was rare), he got all quiet, like a tornado right before it touched ground and destroyed the landscape.
"Well, he did, so spill," Josh said, and he and Chad leaned in, completely attentive.
"It's nothing major. I just overheard him on his cell the other day after class making plans with Professor Tyler to head up to Hilton Head for a weekend getaway."
"How do you know he was talking to Professor Tyler?" Chad wanted to know.
"Because he called her Livvie and made some joke about wearing a cross and a Star of David to cover his tracks when he came by to pick her so she'd let him in the building."
Chad let out a low whistle of envious approval. "Duuuude."
Josh just nodded his head in reverential silence.
"Yeah, pretty much," Orlando agreed. Even for Professor Mortensen, this was a serious coup. Professor Tyler was like Victoria's Secret models on the scale of smokin'.
"I don't get it," Chad said. "She's so hot and he's so...eccentric."
"See, it really could be you and Misha," Orlando quipped, then ducked out of the line of fire when Chad threw a pen at him.
"Alright, I gotta bail. I've got a study group in ten," Josh said, then stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Who's headed to Drew's later for her Non-Denominational Holiday Bash?"
Everyone raised their hands. "I'm even wearing my festive attire," Orlando said, pointing at his flaming red t-shirt that featured a female Santa wearing fishnet stockings and said "Santa's Favorite Ho" across the chest.
"Very classy," Josh agreed, with a thumbs up. "You've found a keeper, Karl."
"Yep," Karl agreed, which such seriousness that Orlando totally fell in love with him all over again. He was getting to be such a sap in his old age.
"Hold up, I'll head out with you," Chad said, and started stuffing his books and papers in his bag. "I wanted to ask Professor Bean if he was going to get our Hamlet papers to us by the end of the week."
"Why, I can already tell you what you got," Orlando said, with his best wicked grin. "A solid B, as always, for thorough research, but really boring execution."
"Shut it. There's nothing wrong with boring."
"Says who?"
"Why're you making this about you?" Josh asked. "It's his paper. Just because he has a lack of literary creativity –"
"Hey!"
" – doesn't mean that we should mock him for it."
"Again, says who?"
"Says me," Karl replied, giving Orlando his best scholarly look. "Honestly, you two are worse than flesh and blood brothers."
"Nah, if we really were related, then he'd have gone to jail for what he and –"
"I swear to God, Orlando, if you bring up me banging your sister one more time, I will punch you in the nuts," Chad stated, and looked pretty serious about it. Orlando made a mental note to bring it up again tonight at the party after Chad'd had a few drinks or after Misha'd gotten him stoned. The only thing funnier than pissed off Chad was drunk and/or stoned pissed off Chad.
Karl raised his hand. "Um, kicking Orlando in the nuts would punish me, too, you know."
Chad just shrugged. "So shut him up or corral him or something."
"Orlando, stop tormenting Chad." Karl stuck his hand out to shake Josh's. "And you, sir, I wish you good luck with the dead gay poet thing."
"Thanks, man." Then Josh waved to Orlando. "See you guys tonight."
Orlando barely waited until Josh and Chad were out of earshot before he rounded on Karl. Who was just sitting there in his favorite bright blue tee and favorite blue jeans, looking completely relaxed and not like he hadn't just committed a serious faux pas. "You're, like, the worst boyfriend ever."
Karl's brows furrowed together in a rather endearing fashion. "Because I didn't want Chad to punch you in the nuts?"
"No, dude, because you took his side over mine. I should totally make you sleep on the sofa tongiht."
"We still don't have a sofa," Karl pointed out, with maddening logic.
"You keep pointing that out," Orlando frowned. Stupid semantics ruining a great line. "We need to work on that."
"First apartment we get after we graduate, we'll get a sofa so you can threaten me with banishment every time I piss you off, I promise."
"Okay, I take it back, you're a great boyfriend." Orlando looped his arm through Karl's and rested his head on Karl's shoulder. "And just for that, I'll tell Santa to bring you an extra special gift this year."
"Is it you lying on our bed wearing nothing except strategic mistletoe?"
"It's almost like you have a special line in to the North Pole," Orlando grinned, and let out a small noise of contentment when Karl brushed a kiss across his forehead.
"It's what you got me last year," Karl murmured, then tilted Orlando's chin to give him a proper kiss.
"Still your favorite gift, though, right?" Orlando asked, smiling into Karl's smiling eyes when they both came up for air.
"Even when you get old and wrinkly and no longer have sexy knees or washboard abs," Karl replied, placing a hand over his heart like he was reciting a vow.
"Definitely a great boyfriend," Orlando declared, then pulled Karl close for a make-out session that ended up getting them tossed out of the library.
|