John Byers awoke in perhaps the least dignified position anyone can wake up in. Half on and half off a narrow couch, tangled in blankets, a line of drool down one cheek into his beard, a formerly crisp white undershirt half way up his hairy torso, and probably the worst sleep induced wedgie ever experienced by a man wearing plaid boxers.

He had been awakened by the sound of pots and pans crashing in the kitchen. He slowly pulled himself back onto the couch, and then stood up and attempted to untangle the blankets and de-wedgie himself, trying to recollect exactly where he was. Although the forgetfulness wasn't induced by alcohol or narcotics, just a few hours of bad sleep, the realization of the past couple of days crashed down on him like the morning-after realizations of someone who had had more than enough to imbibe the previous evening.

His legs propelled him forwards, and he sleepily stumbled towards where he recalled the bathroom in this place was. Walking by the kitchen, he heard a chipper voice call out "It's 5:30 a.m., it's about time you were awake!"

A grumbled retort, completely unintelligible, was all he could manage.

James Bond, or Jimmy as he insisted on being called, was busy preparing some sort of breakfast in the kitchen. Byers ignored him as he walked on past the kitchen, and stumbled into the bathroom, where he performed his morning absolutions.

Coming back out, he staggered with the clumsy gait of the over-tired into the kitchen,  flopped down, and weakly begged: "Coffee...coffee".

"Coffee's bad for you, bud, but I have some freshly squeezed orange juice and a power bar!" smiled Jimmy.

It was then that Byers regretted spending his rent money on printing the last issue of the paper.

***

The day progressed rather uneventfully, with the only exciting news being that the paper had finally turned a profit on this last issue. Frohike, Langly, and Jimmy were all jubilant, with a rather unenthusiastic Byers taking a rather large chunk of that profit and investing it in a triple espresso.

Byers was soon a lot more enthusiastic.

While Frohike and Langly spent most of the day collaborating on collating the next issue, Byers found himself with little to do, and a lot of time to do it in. He ended up, as it had been lately, entertaining Jimmy, and educating him on the finer points of conspiracy theory. In the end, Jimmy had almost grasped the ins and outs of the JFK conspiracy, but not without a lot of explanation, and a complicated reenactment involving old computer hardware, bottle caps, a pen, three paperclips, a nerf arrow gun, and a contact lens case.

Langly completely enjoyed the reenactment, but still tossed a quick snide comment to Byers about Jimmy's IQ when they were alone.

"I know! I mean, he's a super guy, very helpful, eager to please... but he's dumb as a post!" hissed Byers.

"Well, you're stuck with him. Remember, I did offer to give up my place and stay with that remedial student..."

"Oh, fuck off, Langly."

***

Byers's annoyance with Jimmy grew throughout the day. In one, super-irritated moment, Byers recalled why exactly it was that jocks and geeks shouldn't mix. The jocks annoy the piss out of the geeks. And it
didn't help that every time Jimmy said something, he had to punctuate it physically. Not with a punch, but with a touch or a high five or crushing bear hug. And every time, Byers would lose his train of thought, only to feel like he did in high school. Confused, hurting and aching for the next touch.

It was hard being the geekiest kid in school. It was easier, however, when the football team captain was your best friend. It's hardest, however, when you're tragically in love with said football team captain.

***

The evening was capped off with what Byers considered perhaps the most sophomoric TV sitcoms ever in existence. He numbed the pain by sipping a rather calming vodka cooler. Two or three later, even Jimmy's harsh, roaring laughter seemed pleasant. Jimmy was matching him drink for drink, and he half expected him to break the bottles over his head when he was done.

Suddenly, Jimmy frantically started searching for something in earnest... "Damnit, where's the remote?"

Byers couldn't hold it back. "Why, so we can watch some other dumbassed sitcom?"

The look on Jimmy's face brought a red flush of shame over Byers.

"Aw, Jimmy, I'm sorry. I guess I should have told you that I'm not much of a TV buff." he mumbled.

Jimmy brightened slightly. "Well, I have a good show we can watch, it's not, uhm, as dumb as the other ones... I don't always get the jokes, so I know it must be a smarter show." he said, flushing slightly.

"Sure, sure, uhm, here's the remote, you can switch it."

Jimmy quickly grabbed the remote and faced the TV, changing the channel. "Uhm, hey, you're okay with gay people right?"

Byers felt as if his heart had stopped, and time along with it. Panic gripped him, but he forced out a weak "uhm, totally".

"Cool, this show, it's about this guy named Will...and he's gay, and his friend Jack is so funny...."

Byers relaxed and breathed, and listened to Jimmy ramble away.

***

After the show had ended, Jimmy turned off the TV, turned to Byers and looked at him intently. "You're not mad at me are you?"

"No, no, not at all, Jimmy," Byers said, flushing again, "It's just been a long week."

"Yeah I understand, with you losing your apartment and everything." Jimmy reached over and gave him one of those heartbreaking back pats/squeezes that always seem to cause Byers to go weak in some places, and less weak in others. "So what did you think of the show?"

"I really liked it. It was smart and funny"

"Yeah, I wish I was like that Will guy.... "

"Why do you say that?" asked Byers. Jimmy, looking uncomfortable, looked up at the ceiling, and then responded.

"He's handsome and smart, like a lawyer and stuff, and well, I'm pretty much just a dumb jock."

"Uhm..." Byers knew he was getting on dangerous ground but strangely felt the need to press on. "You're definitely as good looking as him, I think."

"Yeah but he's smarter..."

"You're kinder, I think"

A gentle blush rose on Jimmy's face. "Really?"

"Yeah, you're a kind guy...at least, I think so." Reason slowly asserted itself. "Well, I'm sorry, I'm really tired, I should get some sleep." He rose to get off of the couch. "If I could get those blankets..."

At the same time, Jimmy rose too, "I'll get you those...ack!"

In a bizarre combination of alcohol, and clumsiness, Jimmy jostled Byers, and not quite drunk, but inebriated enough, Byers fell over backwards, kicking Jimmy's legs out from beneath him, and the both fell on the couch.

The last thing Byers remembered was seeing Jimmy falling towards him, and then stars, and then nothing at all.

***

Byers awoke to an unpleasant headache but a not unpleasant body draped across him, with one arm encircling his slender frame. Noticing that Jimmy was still breathing (well, snoring), another wave of dizziness swept over him, which he knew rationally was his body responding to a little too much vodka in him, and a little too much dumb jock on him,  and he drifted in and out of sleep, feeling comforted for the first time in his life, and refusing to be rational about it.

"John?"

Damnit, Byers cursed himself, I let this go on too long.

"mmm?"

"I know you're awake, John."

"mm? uh?"

Jimmy whispered in a voice still mostly asleep, "I've been awake for a while, John...open your eyes"

John Byers awoke and discovered he was no longer on the couch. He was in a bedroom. Jimmy's bedroom to be precise.

"Uh...."

"You know what? Don't say anything. You can stay if you want. We can cuddle if you want. I think you didn't mind before." murmured Jimmy. He inched closer and whispered in Byers's ear "and god knows I want to. You're beautiful. Please... stay."

Byers looked over at Jimmy, moonlight reflected from the window into eyes holding a pure, honest innocence and a look of absolute devotion. Two tears fell as he was overwhelmed, and Jimmy caressed the path they took with a calloused but gentle finger.

Jimmy wrapped his arms around John, and they slept.