Chapter Eight
GODDAMN SKYLAR STONE anyway.
Xander tried to thumb out a text to him saying he shouldn’t come, but his hands were shaking and he kept fucking it up, so in the end he decided the adult thing to do would be to draw all his blinds, throw his deadbolt, and pretend he wasn’t home. Except his deadbolt was still broken, and if Skylar pounded on his door too long, Pamela would come upstairs to see what was going on, and Xander would have to explain why he was hiding from the super-handsome frat boy who wanted to give him a makeover and help him improve his life.
Fine. Xander would answer the door, but he swore he would make this the fastest rejection Mr. Smiley had ever received, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Xander would not get swept up in the charm offensive. He would put on a goddamned pink pussy hat and fucking resist.
Except when he opened the door to Skylar’s knock, there wasn’t any charm offensive. Skylar Stone looked…
Well, he looked like shit.
All right, he still looked amazing, but relative to how he usually appeared, he looked like garbage. He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt—real sweats that had holes in them and stains on the waistband, and a T-shirt that had legitimately faded with too many washings, the kind Xander would never have expected a guy like Skylar to even own. He had the barest hint of scruff on his jaw—usually Skylar was completely clean-shaven, so it was a switch. In fact, he’d cut himself shaving, and he had a tiny nick above his jaw. Sexy as hell. His hair was rumpled, his unruly curls hidden beneath a red ball cap, and even that was a little rough around the edge.
God, Xander was fucked. He could have resisted Polished Skylar so much easier.
Xander sighed and opened the door wider. “Come in.”
Skylar hesitated, as if he too had expected more of an argument. He kept trying to smile—or rather, he was smiling, but it was like he was fishing for a gear he couldn’t find. The guy really was tired. And upset, if Xander read him right. He wondered about that.
Skylar put his hands in his pockets and surveyed Xander’s living room. “I love your place. The space is so open and unique. It has its own air.”
“Yeah, well in July the air is way too hot, and the landlady insists the breakers can’t take an AC unit, so I have to keep my markers in the fridge.” Xander suspected the line about the breakers was bunk. Pamela simply hated air conditioning and felt the whole world should too. Also it was a ploy to make him come downstairs and see her instead of hiding out. It worked, because it got crazy hot in his apartment.
Skylar glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Markers? In the fridge?”
Xander wished he’d learn when to shut up. He waved his hand. “An art thing. Don’t worry about it.”
Skylar rubbed the back of his neck and turned to face Xander. “Speaking of worried. About what you said on the phone. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. But I don’t—” He winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it, sorry. I didn’t sleep much, and I’m not… I rehearsed this in the car, but…”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Okay, first of all, let’s start there. I don’t want you rehearsing anything with me, unless we start doing plays together. Just be yourself. Open your mouth, say words, and don’t run them through a subcommittee first.” Skylar looked at him like a hurt puppy, so Xander stalked to his drawing table, where he realized he’d left out a few sketches of Skylar. He tucked them away as casually as he could as he babbled on. “I know it probably sounds insane to someone like you, but I’m fine with who I am. I don’t need to be remade. So like I said on the phone, we’re going to stick to the social media stuff and—”
“Holy shit, that’s new Hotay & Moo.” Skylar held up a sketch from his desk. His face was flushed. “I—I’ve been meaning to bring this up, but I didn’t know how. You draw The Adventures of Hotay & Moo, yeah?”
At first Xander couldn’t say a word. Not with Skylar looking at him like that, as if Xander were steak and Skylar a starving cowboy. Swallowing, he wet his lips and took a step back, until his butt pressed into the edge of the table. Blocking the sketches of Skylar, in case the man went hunting for more drawings. “Um. Yes?”
A whimper escaped him when Skylar grabbed his shoulders, and he gripped the table’s edge and held on as Skylar shook him gently. “Oh my God. You have no idea how much I love that manga. My fraternity brother does too, but he reads every manga ever made, I think—I mean, I only read this one, and when I found out you drew it, I was going to say something but I couldn’t figure out how. And it’s like I just put it in a different part of my brain so it didn’t get in the way of the social media stuff but then here is an actual drawing and I’m totally freaking out—oh, shit!” He let go of Xander with a yelp, pressing the sketch on the table and trying in vain to smooth it out. “I wrecked it, I’m so sorry!”
This was so weird. Hotay & Moo had one goddamned fan in the world, and it was…Skylar Stone? Also, where had this come from? Where was the smooth-talking guy who got Xander to do things he didn’t want to do and then felt awkward about later? Who was this? A pod person? Had Skylar been drugged? What the fucking hell?
Skylar was still trying to fix the sketch, freaking out more now because he’d smudged it in addition to crinkling it. Xander took it from him as if he were removing dry gunpowder from a clearing full of campfires. “It’s…it’s no big deal. That’s just a doodle. I can draw it again. See?” He pulled down a fresh piece of paper, uncapped a Sakura .45mm, and freehanded Hotay and Moo sitting in onsen, Hotay relaxing happily in the hot springs while Moo sat on a rock above him, wrapped in his towel and complaining about something while Hotay ignored him. It took him less than a minute to rough out.
When he looked up to hand it to Skylar, Skylar was watching him like he was a god, and when Xander passed him the sketch, Skylar literally squeaked.
Like a fucking mouse.
Skylar Stone. The sleek Greek Zelda insisted was the Antichrist was standing in Xander’s living room in shitty sweats with bedhead and scruff squeaking because Xander crapped out a Hotay & Moo doodle.
What. The shit. Was happening.
“This is the best.” Skylar held the piece of paper with both hands and nestled into the space beside Hokusai on the sofa, staring at the drawing in wonder. “I’m sorry I’m being a geek. I didn’t know I was going to act like this until I saw your sketch on the desk. I can’t believe you actually write my favorite comic!”
Ah, there went his ego. Xander couldn’t help a wry smile. “I don’t write the story. I only draw the characters. The Lucky 7 staff agrees on the direction the characters should go and work together to write the plot. There’s a lot of research into Shinto that I don’t quite understand. I just do what I’m told and try to keep the characters looking the same.”
“Okay, but I bet I know when you started drawing, and you know more about Shinto than you think. You can’t tell me you haven’t done some research.” Skylar held up the sketch. “There are six things in this sketch alone that tell me you know what you’re putting in there.”
Now Xander felt like an idiot, because at best he’d put two deliberate Shinto references into the sketch. “Are you telling me you’re one of those secret-Shinto apologists? Are you going to whip out a map and try to prove to me there are all kinds of hidden shrines on campus?”
Come on, tell me you’re going to whip out a map. Tell me you’re one of us.
It was a silly, desperate wish, but… Jesus, there was that look in Skylar’s eye again. Except he wasn’t hungry this time. He was…wicked. “Oh, I wouldn’t whip out a map. I’d take you to one.”
Xander’s whole body vibrated, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to grab Skylar’s arm. “Shut. Up. You haven’t seen a shrine. Nobody has.” When Skylar’s grin only widened and his eyes began to twinkle, Xander couldn’t stand it. He did grab him. “You’re full of shit. No way.”
Skylar leaned in close. “Basement of my frat house.”
Xander’s heart sank. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. That’s got to be a fake, then.”
“Why? Because it’s in a fraternity?”
“Yes.”
Xander expected an argument, but Skylar only sighed. He sank into the couch, staring dopey-eyed at the sketch again. Xander indulged in watching Skylar be giddy over his work a little longer, but thinking about how different Skylar was reminded him of the reason he’d called the guy in the first place, and he decided this was the moment to get back to the topic at hand. “Skylar. I don’t want to be your Eliza, or your Galatea.”
Skylar glanced up at him, dopey smile lingering for a second. “Right—I had an argument for that. I keep getting distracted. Sorry.”
Good. Stay distracted. “I don’t want to argue. I don’t want it. Period.”
Skylar set the sketch carefully aside and gave Xander his full attention. Jesus, he could see Silver Stone creaking back into gear. “But listen, you don’t understand, I’m really good at—”
“I’m sure you are. What you’re not understanding is how much I don’t give a shit about that. It’s great that you see me as Eliza Doolittle, but the difference between Eliza and me is Eliza wanted to be remade. I don’t. I know, you see me and think I’m some cranky antisocial curmudgeon, and you’d be right. But I don’t mind being a cranky antisocial curmudgeon. Look.” He picked up the sketch, waved it at Skylar, then used it to gesture toward his stack of half-finished paintings. “You profess to like my art so much? Well, this antisocial crankpot made all of it. So leave him alone. Help him fulfill his social media requirements, then…”
Xander trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.
“Leave you alone?” Skylar suggested quietly.
Xander sighed and sat on the other side of Hokusai, though at this point the cat had enough of being ignored and got up, giving both of them dirty looks on his way to the bedroom.
“I just can’t figure out why you care,” Xander said at last. “It weirds me out.”
For a long time Skylar didn’t say anything. Xander kept trying to guess what he was going to say, waiting for Silver Stone Spin.
“I talk to your painting.”
Xander cast him a sideways glance without turning his head. “For real?”
Skylar kept his gaze on Xander’s ceiling and nodded. “Usually late at night. Sometimes I talk to it so much I wonder if I shouldn’t call a psychiatrist. Except then I’d have to explain it to my parents, and that would get…awkward.” His lips quirked in a wry smile. “Sorry, that’s pretty cliché.”
“What is?”
“That my parents are part of my problem.”
“Well, I mean…same? I wasn’t exactly going to mock you for that.”
Skylar turned toward Xander. “You don’t ever do that. Mock anything. Except yourself.”
“Is there another way I’m supposed to do it?”
“Yes. Most people I know do it the other way around.”
Now it was Xander who stared at the ceiling. “So explain to me again why it is you want to make me over into someone else?”
Skylar’s soft laughter made goose bumps run down Xander’s arms. “Touché. All right, Moo. You win. Except I was looking forward to spending the summer pulling you out of your shell.”
Xander twitched. “If you pull me out of my shell, you’ll find out how pasty and gross I am.” Belatedly, he realized what Skylar had called him. “I’m not Moo. Not even close. He’s a warrior king, for Chrissake.”
“Wisdom king.” Skylar shifted his legs, and his knee brushed Xander’s. “It’s odd that they chose to call the character Moo. The shortened version of Fudō Myōō is Fudō, or more properly, Fudō-sama. Hotay and Hotei I understand, but Moo makes no sense. It would be like giving you Der as a nickname.”
Xander had thought the same thing, when he’d read up on the legends. “I guess they were after something that sounded snazzier in English? There’s a big book in the Lucky 7 offices with the history of the seven gods of fortune, and we use it for details when we need them for the storyline, but the big stuff was set when we got there. Probably they just heard the two names and figured they could pick whichever.”
“God, that’s so typically American.”
“It is funny in the manga, though, that such a cranky guy is named Moo.”
Skylar smiled. “That’s true.”
They sat in silence, staring at Xander’s ceiling. Xander couldn’t help but notice their legs kept brushing. More accurately, Skylar kept brushing his leg. Xander was carefully keeping his still.
Xander cleared his throat. “I’m not Fudō-sama, or Moo. You could be Hotay, though. You happy sap.”
“If you think I’m happy, you’re not looking at me very hard.”
Xander shivered again. He hugged himself so it wasn’t obvious. “Maybe you came at this the wrong way.”
“Oh? How’s that?”
Yeah, how was that? “Maybe…maybe you had it backward. Maybe I’m not Eliza or Galatea. Maybe you are.” Jesus, shut up, you’re so stupid. “Maybe…maybe you secretly want to be a curmudgeon. Maybe you want me to give you lessons.”
“Huh. Maybe I do.” Skylar’s voice sounded dreamy. Then dejected. “But I don’t have anything to offer you in exchange. And I still can’t find a way to pay you for the painting.”
“You’re still fixated on that? I don’t require an equal exchange. I told you. I gave it to you. And if you seriously want curmudgeon lessons, I offer them for free.”
Xander turned his head to smile at him to make it clear he knew Skylar didn’t actually want curmudgeon lessons. Except Skylar turned his head at the same time, and he looked completely serious. And their legs weren’t just brushing now, they were touching.
Xander stopped smiling.
The air between them changed.
The insanity that had swirled in the air ever since Xander had called to cancel the Pygmalion thing settled around them like a blanket, but it didn’t lighten the mood at all. It lit a charge.
I feel like I could kiss him, Xander thought.
And just as quickly another thought rode in after. Don’t.
Xander was used to negative thinking. Sometimes he felt like he’d personally invented it. This wasn’t negative thinking, though. This wasn’t a voice in his head telling him how dare he imagine he could kiss Skylar Stone. The whisper of don’t didn’t come from self-destructive thoughts. It came from something else.
It came from…
He didn’t know where it came from. All he knew was that he was pretty sure he could kiss Skylar right now. And he was even more sure that he should not.
Confused, Xander sat up, rubbing the side of his face.
Skylar sat up too. He seemed self-conscious and unsure of himself, something Xander had never seen on Skylar before. “I’m sorry.”
Tread carefully.
This was the same voice as the don’t. Xander still didn’t understand what was going on, but something about the voice and the way Skylar was acting felt important, so he didn’t let himself get awkward, he simply rode it out.
“Nothing to apologize for. Like I said. If you want to hang out with me this summer and learn how to be a curmudgeon, you let me know. I have my part-time job, but other than that, I’m just putting together my BFA project. And we’ll have our meetings to do the social media stuff, obviously. But I’m saying…I don’t mind hanging out more, with you.”
Skylar looked grim and haggard, much as he had when he’d arrived at Xander’s door. “I have to study for the LSAT. No courses this summer, for a change, but I need to raise my score. Which I’m not sure I can do. But I have to anyway.” He softened as he glanced Xander’s way. “I want to hang out with you, though. If I can.”
This was so weird. Xander felt like he’d met a million different Skylars in the span of a few days. Well, no. If he thought about it, there were only two. The incarnations of smarmy, ting Skylar, the one Zelda had called Silver Stone, the one who wanted to plan out Xander’s life and turn him into someone he wasn’t. And then there was the one he’d met tonight. The geek Skylar. The softer Skylar. The I-wear-sweats-and-things-with-holes Skylar.
Xander really liked the second Skylar. Like, he liked him.
You, sir, are in so much fucking trouble.
Xander cleared his throat. “That sounds rough, that studying.” He tried to think of something inspiring or helpful to add, but he had nothing.
“I’m supposed to go to Yale, or a list of other impossible-to-get-into schools. But mostly Yale. I need a higher LSAT score than the one I currently have.”
Xander frowned at him. “What do you mean, you’re supposed to?”
Skylar shrugged, staring at the carpet. “My dad. It’s where he wants me to go. Or rather, where the firm where he works wants me to go. They’ll hire me once I pass the bar, if I graduate from Yale Law. I was supposed to do my undergraduate there, but I didn’t get in. Big family scandal.”
Whole lot of supposed to in there. Zelda would light this guy on fire. Everything in Xander told him to back away slowly from this conversation, except the tired set of Skylar’s broad shoulders kept drawing him in. “Well, is that what you want to do?”
Skylar scratched his stubble with his index finger, still fixing his gaze on the carpet. “It’s not like you’re thinking. It’s not that my dad is some Republican blowhard who browbeats me.” He picked at a hole in the knee of his sweatpants. “My parents are liberals. Big ones. My dad works with Republicans but donates to all kinds of charities. My mom owns a business and uses her profits to help shut down sweatshops.”
Okay, so no. It wasn’t like Xander had been thinking. Except… “You still didn’t answer my question.”
He knew right away he shouldn’t have asked, even before Skylar tensed, fists closing on his thighs. Xander didn’t want to retract it, though, because Christ, who wanted that kind of life? He didn’t care if the Stone family was the goddamned Justice League, he didn’t want to join it. It sounded insane.
If Skylar honestly wanted that, fine. If he insisted on lying to himself about it, not Xander’s business. But the hell Xander was going to sit here and be part of the bullshit.
Skylar started to get up, and Xander thought he would leave. Maybe that’s what Skylar planned. But then the Hotay & Moo sketch fluttered to the floor, and Skylar stopped, carefully picked it up, and sat back down again.
“How about a trade,” he said at last. “What if you gave me curmudgeon lessons, and I gave you lessons on how to realize not all people are worth avoiding?” He nudged Xander’s knee with his. “I wouldn’t make you be too social.”
Xander grunted, mostly to cover how his brain short-circuited at Skylar’s body contact. “You’re far too invested in dragging me out of my cave. It’s annoying.”
Skylar laughed, and the sound was so charming, so unaffected and arousing, Xander had to bite back a groan. “Maybe that’s why I can’t stop, because you find me annoying. Most people don’t.”
“I didn’t say I found you annoying. I said your efforts were annoying.”
“Usually my efforts work without issue. You’re a challenge, Xander Fairchild.”
And you’re my wet dream. God, what was wrong with him? Xander wanted to ask him if he had a girlfriend, just to shut himself up. He wanted to hear all about the perfect sorority girl Skylar was seeing to shut down in advance any dreams he was going to have of kissing the guy.
Don’t. Don’t ask him. Don’t bring up anything like that, ever.
There was that damn voice again. Xander still didn’t understand, but he did more this time than listen to it. He engaged it. Poked at that space inside him that seemed to see Skylar, the real Skylar, and asked it what he should do with Skylar now, how he was supposed to move forward from here.
Surprisingly, it gave him an answer.
Xander turned to Skylar. “I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can do right now. But in the meantime, there is something you can do for me.”
He was nervous about this, but he was trying to trust that voice. And it had whispered that Skylar needed to trade to feel safe, and he also needed time, lots of time, with Xander to get to know him before he would open up. Curmudgeon though he was, Xander did want to see the rest of the Skylar he’d glimpsed behind the veil.
Skylar regarded him hopefully, waiting. “Yes? How can I help you?”
Xander felt a little wicked. He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to see if the voice was right. The bigger the favor, the more excited he’ll get. “It’s okay if it’s too much to ask.”
Skylar sat up straighter, leaned forward. “It won’t be too much. Just tell me. I’ll do it.”
It’s going to be so hard not to kiss him. Xander leaned forward too, to prove to himself that he had the restraint. “For my project, I need a subject. I was wondering…would it be okay if that subject was you, if you’d let me draw and paint you? Would you be my model?”
For a brief flash of time, Xander saw all the way in. Straight into Skylar as he opened like a lotus, and Xander couldn’t breathe for the perfect, heartbreaking beauty and joy. Then the flower closed, and it was simply Skylar, smiling, beaming even, pleased as punch as he clutched the Hotay & Moo sketch and leaned back onto the couch. “I would love to. Thank you for asking.”
“It’d mean we’d have to get together. Irrespective of the lessons thing. A lot. And you’d need to sit still for a long time. Though some of that time you could be studying. Also, I could work a little from photographs.”
“Stop trying to make me say no, curmudgeon. You’ve just made my whole summer. The only way it could get better would be if you told me you were using me as the model for the hero in a manga.”
Xander laughed. “Um…well, my friend wanted me to do one, but I don’t know how to write an original story. Plus, I really can’t see the committee buying that as a BFA project.”
There was that hunger again. “You could write one, though?”
“I could draw one. If someone gave me the story and the characters.”
He wasn’t sure what went through Skylar’s head there, but plenty must have, given the expressions that passed over his face. All Skylar said in the end, though, was, “I’d be honored to sit for you, anytime. We can talk about it tomorrow when we have our meeting. And any other time in text, of course.”
“Yeah, about that.” Xander fished his sad little flip phone off the coffee table and waved it in chagrined surrender. “Try not to be offended if my texts are crap. I don’t have that great of a phone. It doesn’t have a keypad or anything.”
Skylar’s smile wasn’t tinging anymore. “No offense will be taken.”
Xander saw him to the door. It wasn’t awkward per se, but it was a…charged goodbye. They were both aware everything had changed. That they’d cracked into something good, but scary. Fragile. Something to be treated with care.
He vowed to not mess this friendship up, to not muddy it or screw with it in any way.
“See you tomorrow,” he told Skylar, carefully tucking his attraction away.
Skylar’s smile was a sunbeam. “See you tomorrow,” he replied, and left the apartment.
But the sunbeam—and the glow of Xander’s want—remained.