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Part One
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in... What are you doing here?”
Daniel’s hand sweats and clenches the doorknob as he tries not to seem too eager as he watches Elijah zip up his jeans. Or are they even his? he wonders idly; you can never tell if a model or an actor getting ready for a magazine shoot is actually wearing their own clothes.
“Same reason you are, I guess.” Elijah’s distastefully inspecting a mustard-yellow zip-up sweater that he ends up pulling over his white T-shirt.
“That is so ugly,” Daniel breathes. He wants Elijah back in just the T-shirt, which is form-fitting and makes Daniel want to crawl all over him like a moth and eat it right off his chest.
Elijah intently studies himself in the mirror. “Glad I’m not the only one around here who disagrees with designer clothing,” he yanks on the zipper and brushes the sleeves off his arms, letting the garment rumple on the floor. “Anyone who would pay sixty bucks for that thing is out of their mind.”
Daniel, who didn’t know anything about American currency, just nods in agreement.
Elijah catches Daniel staring -- sees the pile of clothes in his hand and remarks, “Nice shirt,” stepping quickly towards the surprised boy in the doorway. Reaching out, he grabs a black Lycra DKNY turtleneck -- brushing Daniel’s forearm in the process, creates a chain reaction of Daniel dropping his Levis, which hit Elijah’s hand and causes him to let go of the shirt. Within an instant they’re both crouched on their knees and Daniel feels tingly at the notion of being close enough to smell his cologne.
