"Wow. I hate to say this, but you guys just surpassed a level of gayness that I didn't know existed," Quince notes in his typical apathetic voice, his arms crossed. "Also, I made garlic bread. Win."

"Get the hell out!" Soren screams, and he chucks a pillow at the door a second too late. Quince bangs it closed as soon as he gets a word in, and his footsteps thump down the stairs shortly after, leaving Rocky and Soren alone again, totally mortified and sexually frustrated by the unexpected interruption. 

"Soren? Love? Maybe you should invest in a lock for your door before we decide to shag next time," Rocky muffles into the pillow, and Soren sighs deeply and reaches down to turn him over so that they face each other. "Anyway! How about we finish this tonight?" Rocky purrs, and he reaches down to squeeze Soren's dick with one hand, making him grunt in response.

"I gotta work late, babe," Soren rasps, "Nightshift, remember?"

"Ah," Rocky sighs, but he leans up to kiss Soren anyway, his tongue sliding into his mouth, darting against the little barbel that he'd gotten when he was sixteen. Sometimes he clinked it against his teeth, or bit down on it when he was bored. Other times, he used it for other scandalous reasons, and Rocky was fully on board with it.

Unfortunately, as tempting as making out with Rocky was, Soren knew he owed Quince an explanation and that leaving Lydia to deal with Rowan at the front door wasn't fair. There was too much going on to give Rocky the proper pounding he'd asked for. Though, when the other boy sits up to find his clothes and bends over to show his freckled ass, Soren debates whether the world and Lydia Elanor truly needed him that badly. 

"You're looking at my ass, aren't you?" Rocky asks, and he turns to look at Soren, flipping his hair over one shoulder, "I know. Glorious, isn't it?"

"It looks like two moons and a giant constellation," Soren points out, and Rocky hurls a pair of jeans at him in response, making him laugh. 

They both get dressed after that in their respective outfits. If they were short on cash, Rocky always said they would have made an amazing rockstar duo based solely on their clothes, very Bowie and Prince. But Soren didn't think he'd be able to handle a bunch of people fawning over him. He just wanted to lie in a field surrounded by flowers and breathe in the quiet.

When he and Rocky get downstairs, the kitchen is in chaos even more than usual.

"I want to talk to Soren!" Lydia screams as she stands just outside the kitchen, "I'm not getting dumped over a text message!" 

"So, I guess dating me is out of the question?" Rowan pipes up from where he leans against the counter watching everything go down. "I got enough money to take us to Mcdonalds, babe. Twenty-piece chicken nuggets, fuck yeah!" He drawls, and he and Quince bump fists.

"Britney!" Rocky calls, "It's Britney, right? Dear Christ, Soren, you've had so many girlfriends I can't remember all their names anymore. Calm down, love! I'm sure it's a big misunderstanding. Why don't you head back to your car, schedule a spray tan, and fix those atrocious roots? I'm sure you'll feel ten times better knowing your ex-boyfriend's in good hands with me!"

"Bitch!" Lydia screams, and she lunges across the kitchen, nearly knocking Quince aside.

Soren grabs her before she can reach Rocky, who looks mildly repulsed. "Stop," Soren tells her simply, and she, of course, stops struggling as soon as he has a hold of her. "I'll talk," Soren tells her, "Just stop freaking out for a second and calm down."

Quince nibbles on a piece of garlic bread.

Lydia snatches her arm free and spins around, heading right back out the doorway without another word. It was clear that she wanted Soren to chase her or else all hell would break loose, so he had no choice but to follow, grabbing his coat as he went.

"Soren!" Rocky calls before he swings open the door, "Be careful! The little lass is crazy!" 

"She's also hot as fuck," Rowan pipes up, "You think she's into owl boys?"

Soren pulls on his coat and storms out after Lydia, his face already hot with embarrassment. It was one thing to show up at his house unannounced; it was another to force herself into his kitchen and demand to see him. But that was life, he guessed. Maybe this was his fault for not breaking it off with her the right way. 

Lydia's standing by her car when Soren finally catches up with her, his hair wind-swept, his fists clenched in his pockets. He wasn't going to scream at her or anything like that, even if he was upset by how things had gone down. Hell, he had actually liked her at one point when they dated. Though, maybe not as much now that her crazy was showing.

"What's going on?" Soren asks Lydia when she turns to look at him, scowling. "Why are you acting so crazy? You could have just asked me to talk to you without causing a scene."

"I caused a scene?" Lydia scoffs, "Soren, baby--"

"Don't call me that," Soren interrupts, and he feels a prickle of irritation at her stubbornness. "You know how I feel."

"You know what?" Lydia crosses her arms and strides up to him, her wedge sandals crunching against the gravel, "When you showed up in class, everyone thought you were so fucking hot and mysterious." She reaches out and touches his chest. "And even I, being the celebrity that I am, wanted a piece of the pie." "I had to know who you were, Soren Moon. Fucking you was just the icing on the cake."

Soren feels his heartbeat pick up, but not in a good way. He wanted to fly away, hide in the forest for a few weeks, and never come out again. He even struggled to find a poem to take away his panic and his anxiousness at what was to come, but nothing comes to mind except for,

"January's light will consume my entire heart in cruel ways."

"Guess what?" Lydia whispers into his ear, "I found out. I know your little secret."