It was seven-thirty in the evening when Mr. Nielson’s office door opened.

Erik stepped out, bloodied and beaten. He already had a black eye, his lip split and bleeding with a large welt on the side of his cheek. He had his bag over his shoulder, his jacket tied around his waist. He was calm as he picked up Conner’s bag for him. “Let’s go,” he said, “before he dismisses Mike, too.”

Conner awkwardly stood, grabbing his crutches. He looked up at Erik with a worried, furrowed brow, “What did Mr. Nielson say—?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Erik said quickly, placing a hand on Conner’s back as they walked slowly out of the main office.

“It does matter,” Conner replied, quietly. If he hadn’t needed those stupid crutches, he would have grabbed Erik’s hand. Conner eyed it, seeing that Erik's knuckles were chafed and bleeding, too. His heart ached, feeling tight as it beat dully. “You shouldn’t have done it,” he whispered, wondering if Erik would think he was ungrateful.

Erik ignored his statement, saying instead, “So…you’re a Voss. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Conner frowned, feeling an angry tension building. “Why would I?”

Erik shrugged. “I don't know. I mean…Theodore Voss changed the world; his whole disposition is to insure sustainable, responsibly sourced innovation, right? Isn’t that why he created primes?”

Conner grimaced. His face felt hot, his arms aching from the crutches. “How would you feel walking around knowing that forty percent of the world hated your grandfather, and—by default—you?”

“Walking? Don't you mean limping?” Erik smirked. 

They exchanged a look, Erik trying to repress a laugh. Conner couldn't help but feel his mouth twitch up in a smile. 

Erik sighed, looking serious as he said, “You know, I get it. It's the opposite for me. I have to deal with everyone thinking I'm nobody, and that I don't deserve to be here.” 

“That's crazy!” Conner said, offended on Erik's behalf.

As they neared the stairs Erik lifted Conner into his arms, something they were both mildly getting used to. “He’s a brilliant man, though. Your grandfather,” Erik said, sliding his gaze towards Conner, “Creating freethinking artificial intelligence; it’s impressive. You have good genes...at least you come from something.”

“I guess so,” Conner muttered, gulping. “I don’t really know him, to be honest. I mean, I’ve only met him once or twice.” Conner looked up at Erik, a penitent look on his face as he said, “You know, we’re not really that rich. My parents are wealthy, but my grandfather’s fortune is still his…we don’t benefit much off of it.”

Erik gave Conner a small smile, looking down at him. With Conner in his arms, their faces were much closer. “You’re worried I’ll be offended by how much money you have?” he laughed, quickly wincing as he licked his sore lip.

Conner watched him run his tongue over the cut, something inside him twitching.

“I-I though you might. I never really talk about it…and the reason not many people know is because my parents and the school sort of have an unsaid arrangement about it.” Conner felt a pang of guilt, “Well, I guess breaking the rules changes things.”

“Don’t pay attention to Mike. He’s seriously overcompensating for a dick the size of a pea,” Erik smirked. “Besides, what you really need to worry about is how much longer you’ll have these crutches. I’m going to be jacked by the end of the week.”

Conner laughed, happy he had suffered minor nerve damage after all.

They reached their dorm, Erik having unnecessarily carried Conner the length of the hall as well. He lay Conner out on his bed, Conner looking up at his handsome face.

Before Erik could walk away, Conner grabbed his sleeve, his heart pounding. As Erik met his eyes from where he was hunched over him, Conner suddenly couldn’t go through with any of the possibilities he had planned. Instead he said, “What about you?” he breathed it, worried he’d scare him off, “What about your family?”

Erik sat on Conner’s bed, one arm over Conner, which he leaned on. “Not much to tell,” he said grimly, refusing to make eye contact.

“Siblings?” Conner pried, his chest tightening.

“Two older brothers,” Erik stated. “You?”

Conner cleared his throat, “I have a sister. She’s five. Brienna.”

Erik whistled. “That’s an age gap.”

Conner laughed a little, wondering how asking about Erik had turned into him talking about himself. “Yeah, she was…unexpected. But a blessing, of course,” Conner said, smiling weakly.

Erik shook his head as he whispered, absentmindedly, “What a world to grow up in.”

“What do you mean?”

Erik blinked, clearly realizing he had said it out loud without meaning to. It was the first time Conner had seen Erik look unsure. Erik cleared his throat, saying, “When we were growing up, they had just passed the Prime Initiative. It was legal to put primes in schools with humans, a lot of businesses started to hire to primes because they considered them ‘premium’ workers. It’s a better world for what’s morally right, but…it never seems like we reach equality. I just wonder if the world has really changed at all in the past hundred years.”

Conner felt Erik’s words sink his spirit, nodding. “Yeah…maybe this is just how the world is meant to be. Maybe there's no such thing as political balance.”

Erik looked like he was about to say something else, but instead he slowly straightened, standing up and slipping out of Conner’s grip. “You were supposed to change your wound dressings at six, you should do it now,” he said, walking to the washroom, “I’ll put out the gauze and surgical tape on the counter.”

Conner blushed slightly, “Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he said. He sat up, grabbing his crutches and making his way to the bathroom. He waited for Erik to exit, stepping into the cold tiled room, and closed the door.

He washed his hands before he undid his belt, dropping his trousers. He was nervous as he tried to find the wound, unable to bend his leg in such a way that he could see it. He thought about feeling for it, but...was nervous. It was tight and tender with stitches.  

Conner tried to keep his leg straight as he attempted to sit on the edge of the tub. His leg cramped, his nerves and muscles seizing. He swore, outstretching his hand to brace himself against the shower wall. It slipped, Conner falling painfully into the empty tub with a loud bang.

He grabbed his leg, tears in his eyes. He prayed he hadn’t ripped the stitches, glad to see there was no blood. He attempted to un-wedge himself from where he was stuck, but somehow only seemed to slip farther into the freezing tub.

Conner could hear Erik walking towards the bathroom door. “Don’t you dare come in here!” he shouted, glad when Erik stopped just outside the door.

“It sounds like you could use some help…” Erik’s muffled voice said. 

Conner wondered if he was laughing at him. He was sure he'd at least crack a smile, seeing him lying there awkwardly in only his shirt and underwear. 

The thought mildly infuriated him. “No! I’m fine!” Conner insisted, though every time he put even the smallest amount of pressure on his leg, an agonizing, sharp jolt shot up him.

After ten minutes of attempting to one-leggedly push and pull himself out of the tub, he had somehow managed to accept lying down in it. Conner pulled the shower curtain across the tub, the light dimming. “You still there?” Conner called, sighing in defeat.

He heard Erik open the door, stepping inside the bathroom.

Conner stuck his hand out around the curtain. “Pass me my pants,” he said, feeling his humiliation growing.

He could hear his belt clink as Erik picked them up off the floor. “Did you change the dressing?” he asked, leaving Conner to lie there awkwardly with his arm outstretched.

“No, I didn’t. Look just help me up—”

“Why didn’t you just change it standing?” he asked, “That seems like it would have been easier.”

Conner, blushed. There was a momentary drawn-out silence before Conner said, “It’s…farther back on my thigh. It’s hard to see standing and I’m afraid it will hurt if I accidentally touch it.”

He could hear the small smirk as Erik said, “And falling into the tub didn’t hurt?”

Conner was furious, and embarrassed. “Never mind! I don’t need your help, just get out—”

The shower curtain opened with a loud hiss and rustle. Conner’s mouth slammed shut as he looked up at Erik, his heart lodged in his throat. Erik kept his eyes averted as he leaned down.

Conner automatically had his arms around Erik’s neck, feeling him grunt as he lifted him up, out of the tub. Erik’s voice was hot on his neck as he said, “Of course I’m going to help you, idiot.”

Conner’s eyes widened, glad that Erik couldn’t see his expression as his heart skipped a beat, thrumming. 

Erik helped him to his feet in front of the sink. As he released him, Conner immediately looked down, hand over his mouth to hide his face. “Ah…thanks. You can go,” he said.

He could feel Erik’s eyes burning into him. "Do you want me to change it for you?" Erik asked, casually unphased. 

The thought of Erik kneeling before him, his long fingers caressing up his thigh, transformed into the idea of him kissing it, dragging his lips up his skin. Conner could feel the thought spark something, taking hold of him, his heart racing. “I’m fine, go,” Conner said, feeling panicked as he thought, ‘God, just get out. Get out. Don't look at me.’

Erik frowned. “I don't mind—”

Conner shoved Erik out of the bathroom, “Just, get out!” he shouted, slamming the door and locking it quickly. He closed his eyes, bracing his hands against the cold counter top.

He could feel his body was painfully hard and twitching at the thoughts he’d tried to suppress. Conner had always found a magnetic kind of attraction to Erik; he was handsome, smart, kind… Over the past few days, Erik had been so much more attentive to him, it was hard not to hope. 

But, really, what was the point in heartache over someone who only saw him as a friend? Why should he torture himself by imagining things that may never happen between them?

Conner swore as his hand slipped under his boxers. He bit his lip, giving in to the sensation as he thought, ‘Just this once...’