When Zachary got back to the bedroom, he was holding a bowl of popcorn and was cradling a can of Diet Coke and what appeared to be a juice box under his hand.

Leroy regrets admitting to himself that he stared at Zach a little too long when he had gotten back and had forgotten to get up and help him with the things he was carrying. Zach didn't seem to mind though, and waddled over to the desk by his bed, dropping the bowl and then the drinks as Leroy snapped out of his daze.

"Did you pick something?" Zach asked, sitting at the edge of the bed before looking at Leroy, who was still sitting on the chair at the other end of the desk.

Leroy nodded, still not trusting himself to use his words. "I... I picked the colony. I don't know if you've watched that..." Leroy trailed, trying to look Zach in the eyes. The older man's hazel eyes seemed more intense than usual, but that was probably the guilt eating at him for knowing something he felt he wasn't supposed to. He looked down at the table, tracing patterns on the wooden surface as he rambled on. "I've seen some video essays mention it here and there, but I haven't really seen it myself."

"Uh, okay," Zachary said. "But I feel like I can guess the plot from the title. Humans leave Earth after destroying it but leave all the poor people behind, aye?"

Leroy looked up from the table, with his eyes wide. "I—that's correct, what the hell? How did you know that?" Leroy asked, his prior feelings of awkwardness becoming muted.

Zachary grinned, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm a writer," he said, "plus that's a trope-inducing title if I've heard one."

"I see..." Leroy trailed, cocking his head to the side as he watched Zach turn the laptop to himself. He watched the man for a bit, noticing how his curly hair formed a curtain over his eyes if he bent down far enough. His cheekbones were high, and Zach noticed how he occasionally shrugged at the screen as life body language was part of his internal monologue when viewing and reading things.

His gaze softened, wondering what Zach was muttering under his breath as he watched the older man's lips move.

He doesn't look like he is... Leroy thought to himself, biting his lower lip. Well, Leroy knew that his thoughts were kind of stupid. There weren't certain ways gay people looked or acted exactly—there was just a stereotype. From his own friend group, all the gay people he knew didn't 'look' gay, but they were super happy to share their sexuality and joked about it all the time. Zach didn't do that, and Leroy was stuck wondering if he just never talked about it or if he was intentionally hiding it from him.

And if he was.

Why?

It was irritating.

"Hey, did you hear me?"

Leroy blinked at the sound of Zach's voice. He noticed the older man was staring at him with a puzzled look.

"Umm..." Leroy trailed, looking from Zach to the computer between them. "Could you repeat yourself?"

Zach blinked, seeming a bit confused. "I was saying we can't watch the movie if we're in opposite directions."

Leroy opened his mouth a little, squinting when he realized that Zach was in fact correct, but his face warmed up and he felt the hairs on his arms stand up when he realized the only other option was that they would both share the bed.

"Let's share the bed. I'll move the cat, no worries."

Fuck my life. Leroy thought, forcing himself to nod and smile. If Zach had asked him this an hour ago, it would have been a non-issue, but now... Leroy had his reservations, and he didn't even know why. It wasn't a date. Zach wasn't going to try to cuddle him or make a move. He was just nervous for no apparent reason, and he couldn't shake it out of him.

"Oh, okay, I can stay on the edge." And it's not to run away if anything happens. He told himself, getting off the chair before making his way to the bed as Zachary moved the cat that protested by hissing and then disappearing into the open closet. He sat on the edge, making himself look at the screen and not at Zach, who had his back pressed against the wall and his knees drawn to his chest. There was space. They weren't lying side by side, so why was Leroy still fucking nervous?

Zach started the movie, and soon Leroy was able to ease up and watch the movie. The props weren't that great, and neither was the acting—overall, it was tropey—just like Zach said it would be. One thing Leroy hadn't considered about watching a movie with Zach was that he would be talkative. Zachary made multiple comments over the already low volume and somehow kept spoiling a movie he'd never watched by simply guessing what would happen and groaning dramatically at the screen.

"I know they want us to think this man is hot or whatever, but it's just weird. Doesn't do it for me," he announced during what was supposed to be a heartfelt scene between the protagonist and love interest. The comment intrigued Leroy, so he looked away from the screen, looking at Zach, who still had his eyes glued to the scene.

"Why would you say that?" Leroy asked, looking back to the screen, as the kissing scene unfolded. "They seem like a good fit."

Zachary seemed to think about something for a bit before shrugging. "I guess he's just not my type."

Leroy felt his face warm up at that. Zach was so casual about it. Well, I guess he's not hiding it from me. Maybe there'd just never been situations where knowing Leroy's sexuality was relevant. Leroy found himself staring at the lead actor as well, trying to construct an alternative of everything he was in his head to see if he could figure out what Zach's type was, but it left him more frustrated than anything because of the long list of possible alternatives, and he couldn't figure it out.

"Umm..." Leroy trailed, looking over at Zach. "What is your type?"

The older man seemed taken aback by that question. His lips parted and narrowed his eyes at Leroy, pausing to process what he'd been asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Zach asked, making Leroy suck on his lips.

"I don't know. I guess that's just what you ask when you're trying to get to know someone," Leroy explained. It's not like Zach was into him, and he wasn't into Zach—he wasn't gay. He was just curious, and it wasn't abnormal to want to know what your friends were into. 

Zach didn't seem convinced—or maybe the scrunched-up look on his face was discomfort. "I—err. I've never talked about this before," the older man said, reaching out to the computer to press pause on the move.

"If you don't want to answer that's fine too," Leroy said, starting to feel a bit weird about how cornered Zach was acting. "It's not like you have to tell me—"

"I'm not embarrassed or anything, it's that I'm just not sure," Zach said, cutting Leroy off.

"But you know what's not your type...?" Leroy asked, a little confused, he scooted deeper into the bed, folding one of his legs and leaning in a bit so he could see the facial expressions on Zach's face more clearly in the dimly lit room.

Zach shook his head. "I know what I like in theory, but I've never experienced any of it, so I'm actually not a hundred percent sure I would be into those kinds of people."

There was silence in the room for a bit, except for the buzzing humidifier on the bedside table. Zach broke the silence first, popping his lips.

Leroy blinked, folding his other leg too. "You haven't dated."

"I thought that was obvious," Zach said, chuckling a bit.

Leroy rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean—"

"I have chronic pain. I don't really get out or do much. I've been out of public school since I can remember, realistically where am I supposed to find someone? I mean there are dating apps but logistically I can't stand up for very long. So, how would that go down?" Zach asked, and Leroy just sort of sat there

Stunned.

Well, that wasn't an image Leroy had anticipated having in his head, but now that Zachary said it, it was just going to chill in his brain, he guessed.

"I—I don't know, I didn't really think about it," Leroy said. "I never thought of you..." he trailed, realizing what he was about to say would sound weird.

"You never thought of me having sex?" Zach asked, finishing Leroy's sentence. "I mean, that makes sense. Disabled people get infantilized a lot, so, I guess it's not far-fetched that you couldn't even imagine it."

Leroy wanted to protest and make excuses, but the crux of the matter was that Zach was correct—at least partially. Part of the shock of finding out Zach was gay was hinged on that. He couldn't really imagine Zach as anything. He just hadn't thought of him as being sexual until literally a few hours ago.

"Well, yeah, I've never dated, had sex, or even kissed someone, so..." Zach trailed off. "I guess I can't say what my type actually is."

"But if you were to describe it..." Leroy said, still wanting Zach to answer the initial question.

Zach seemed perplexed by the attention but seemed to consider it as he cocked his head to the side and sighed. "I guess I like people who are cute?" he said as if it was a question. "A bit slender, yet fit, maybe, more aloof?"

Great, what Zach was describing still wasn't giving Leroy much of a picture. It was frustrating and annoying.

"What about you?"

Leroy blinked, realizing what Zach was asking him.

"What do you like?"

The younger man felt his breathing become shallow as he wondered how he should answer the question. He did have an answer—or at least he used to. He liked short, curvy women with light hair and eyes—the complete antithesis of Zach, who was taller, darker-skinned, and lean. If he told Zach his type, then Zach would self-eliminate, and he would never have a chance—

Why the hell do I want a chance? Leroy asked himself in his head, not enjoying his newfound hyper fixation on where Zachary wanted to put his dick.

"I like when wo—when a person lets me help them," Leroy mumbled. "I—I guess I like feeling useful. It's not something I feel a lot, I guess," Leroy said, making Zach nod. Leroy felt the urge to talk about that feeling more. He did like that truly, even if that was the only non-physical thing, he could think of saying at the moment. Being short and skinny, he never felt strong or useful. He also wasn't very smart, so trying to date women that let him dote on them, or who were kind enough to pretend they wouldn't carry their own groceries, helped his self-esteem.

He didn't expand on that, though, and just let Zach soak in what he said.

"I see," the older man mumbled, before reaching out to start the movie again, and just like that, the conversation was abandoned even though it lingered and clawed at Leroy's mind.