“Why are you hanging out with that loser again?”

Koby stopped just before he rounded the corner of the hallway that would take him to the art workroom. He didn’t like the aggression in the man’s voice, and Koby’s hackles were immediately raised. It had been a hell of a long time since high school, but old habits died hard. For a second he was that skinny kid again, hiding from the older jocks wanting to stuff him in a locker.

In the moment it took for him not to succumb to panic, another voice piped up. “Man, what’s your deal? Koby isn’t a loser.”

That was Vince.

Coldness rushed over Koby’s skin. He didn’t want to be eavesdropping on Vince, but he couldn’t seem to make his feet walk away.

The other guy scoffed. “Look at them, dude.” Presumably they were looking through the glass in the door that led to the workroom. “They’re all just so lame. Like they’re the rejects that have been forgotten about. Why hang around here with a bunch of queers?”

Koby winced.

“We could go grab lunch at Rocket,” the guy continued. “They’ve got some seriously hot waitresses there lately.”

Koby’s stomach flipped over in revulsion. The guy could have been talking about anyone, but all he could think about was Tammy, the girl who usually seemed to be their server on Sundays for brunch.

She was barely eighteen. She still had braces, for crying out loud.

He heard Vince sigh. “I said Koby and I were supposed to be working on the sculpture together. You didn’t have to come. I was just seeing if he was here early.”

It was stupid, but Koby wanted to hear Vince tell the other guy off for the way he’d said ‘queers.’ That wasn’t the nice, inclusive use of the word, that was for sure. But Vince was only an ally. He probably didn’t know how much the word hurt when it was used as a slur.

“Hey, don’t get like that, man,” the other guy said. “I’m just playing, I didn’t mean it. You want to stay here, that’s cool. I’m so just so excited to have you home, y’know?”

To be fair, the guy did sound genuinely contrite.

“I know,” said Vince. “It’s okay. Just…Koby’s not a loser, okay?”

The guy scoffed. “Okay, sure.” He didn’t sound convinced. “So – burgers and brews? Your treat, Mr. Pro Athlete.” He laughed.

Vince laughed as well. “Fine, come on.”

For a second, Koby panicked, thinking they were going to walk into him. But they obviously walked the other way, their footsteps and voices fading.

Koby remained where he was for a minute, wanting to make sure they were one hundred percent gone. He chewed on his lip, mulling over what he’d accidentally heard.

On one hand, Vince had definitely defended him as well as the other art students. On the other…why was Vince friends with a guy like that in the first place? He had mentioned about having Vince home again, so maybe he was an old buddy that Vince was loyal to, but still. He sounded like kind of an asshole.

Koby walked into the workroom lost in thought and probably frowning. But movement at his entrance brought him back to the here and now.

“Koby!” a small voice cried. Zane had returned with his mom and was under the table again where she was working. He had what looked like school books, but when he saw Koby come in, he leaped to his feet, the Barbie doll back in hand as he scrambled over to greet Koby. “You’re back!”

“So are you!” Koby smiled down at his small admirer. His mom – Alanna – hadn’t been around the past few days Koby had been in working on the sculpture. He was glad that not only were they back but also that Zane had his tutu on again.

“Hi, Alanna,” he said purposefully to Zane’s mom.

She was clicking away on her laptop, probably working on one of her graphic design projects. She was studying toward a marketing degree while also home-schooling Zane. Being a single parent, that apparently meant he generally went wherever she did.

“Oh, hi, Koby.” She sounded frazzled. “How are you?”

Honestly, he was surprised how much overhearing Vince had rattled him. Why did he care what some straight guy thought when he would be leaving town again soon enough, anyway? Did Koby expect him to yell at a friend he’d probably known for years in defense of Koby, who he’d only been getting to know the past week and a half?

“I’m fine.” He could only muster a small smile as he set his satchel down in the area he’d taken over for his project. “Zane’s looking cool again today.” He wanted to try and bring up the subject of Alanna taking his tutu off around the other men, but didn’t want her to feel she had to be defensive.

But luck was on his side as she pulled at her earlobe and glanced down where Zane had settled on the floor again, immersed in his worksheets.

“I know the tutu”- she mouthed the word -“is just a phase. But I worry the other kids might tease him. Now the divorce is final and things are calming down, I thought I’d try and get him into public school…but…”

Koby rolled up the sleeves of his Henley. “Kids can be cruel.” He didn’t want to sugarcoat the reality of the situation. Sweet Jesus did he know how true that was. “But does it bother you that he’s wearing something unconventional?”

“I want him to be happy,” Alanna said automatically. “But will he be happier wearing what he wants or not getting teased?”

Koby hefted up the box of supplies he was going to be working from today. He’d prepped all the various bits of junk metal he was going to be utilizing so they all gleamed. “I won’t lie,” he said quietly. “Sometimes fiercely being yourself is tough. But I know I couldn’t live any other way.”

It was lonely at times, though, he added mentally. Not to mention terrifying during the really bad days. It was better now. He had his wonderful friends and his art. Maybe someday he’d also have someone to come home to instead of just a drafty apartment.

Alanna hummed. When Zane looked up, she smiled down at him with such affection. “You okay there, pumpkin?”

“Yes, Momma.” He nodded emphatically as he circled objects on the page, matching them up with words.

“Koby?”

Koby looked from Alanna and his supplies to Yu Yan, who was clutching one of her drawings to her chest. Her eyes were wide as she walked up to him, like she was a wild animal that was going to spook. As usual, the other two guys were engrossed in their own projects. Gareth had his headphones on and Wendell was stubbornly working on yet another watercolor of the same old landscape. Koby smiled at Yu Yan.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Koby asked.

Yu Yan nodded, looking tense. “I’m sorry to bother you.” Her English was quite heavily accented with Chinese, but Koby was able to follow her without any real trouble. “Cecily isn’t around and I’ve already asked her so many times.” Yu Yan sounded sad. Koby raised his eyebrows at her, encouraging her to go on. “I don’t know why this is not looking how I would like,” she said with a frown. “I try to improve shading and study anatomy like Cecily says, but it is not the right…emotion.”

She showed Koby a pencil drawing of an older woman, nude, posing on a stool. The line work and shading were exceptional. It almost looked like a photo.

“What emotion are you going for?” Koby asked.

“Sad,” Yu Yan said right away. “Lonely. She is lost.”

“Ah.” Koby saw the problem. “Try drawing her more from the back, with her looking over her shoulder. Like she’s searching for what she’s lost. Is that possible? Can you work with the model again?”

Yu Yan’s eyes lit up. “Yes, yes. And…I can make second composition, too. Of hope. From the front. Lost and found?” She seemed to be asking Koby if he thought that was a good idea.

“Yes,” he said with enthusiasm. “That sounds great. You have an amazing talent, by the way. Don’t be afraid of the harder pencils. Get those darker tones in there, especially for the ‘lost’ picture.”

“Thank you, Koby.” She beamed and nodded as she returned to her seat. “I will be not afraid.”

Koby spent some more time organizing his stock. He had a good range of shapes to work from here. He set up his soldering iron, getting it nice and hot. He’d use that on the smaller, more intricate parts of the piece. For the bigger parts, he’d crack out the welding torch.

“Uh,” an uncertain voice piped up over the gentle hum of the radio. They’d had nonstop Christmas tunes playing in the workroom since Koby had come back to work there. He glanced up and realized Gareth had slipped his headphones off his ears to sit around his neck. He glanced nervously at the doors. “Is Lumberjack coming back today?”

Koby wasn’t keen on people reducing Vince to his nickname, but he understood why they did. It was because he was larger than life. A legend. To other people, anyway.

Koby’s gut twisted thinking about Vince coming back. He tried telling himself that Vince had defended him to whoever that asshole was. But he just wished that Vince wasn’t friends with someone like that in the first place. It was at odds with who Koby was hoping he was. An ally.

The thing was, being a football player, he probably heard crap like that in the locker room all the time. Koby hadn’t gotten any homophobic vibes off him in their time together during the last several days. So there was hope he was simply managing other douchebags’ poor attitudes the best he could.

It wasn’t the best conclusion, but it gave Koby the opportunity to think a little better of Vince. For some reason, that was really important to him.

“Probably later,” Koby said in response to Gareth’s question. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, um, sure,” Gareth said in what he probably hoped was an offhand tone. “I just think I’ll head out before he comes back.”

“Why?” Alanna sounded genuinely surprised. “I thought you were a huge fan?”

Gareth tapped his feet under his table. “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want him seeing me doing this art stuff. It’s embarrassing.”

“Maybe if you stopped drawing cartoon characters, it wouldn’t be embarrassing,” Wendell scoffed, shaking his head.

Gareth scowled. “Stan Lee over at Marvel Comics never thought that,” he shot back. “Graphic novels aren’t embarrassing.”

“Then why don’t you want Mr. Russo to see you?” Yu Yan asked with a frown.

Gareth shrugged and poked at his tablet. “I’d just rather he didn’t know I was here, y’know? That way, he might think I played ball too or something.”

“Vince doesn’t care about that.” Koby shuffled his materials around.

At least, he hoped Vince didn’t feel that way. Koby really wished Vince had said something about the queer comment. But why should Koby expect Vince to fight his battles for him?

It just would have been nice, Koby thought.

“And you shouldn’t care either,” he told Gareth. “Take pride in what you do.”

Gareth looked like he considered Koby’s words for a second. Then he shook his head. “I think I’m gonna go work in the library. No offense, man.”

Koby shrugged. It didn’t really affect him what Gareth did, but he was sad that Gareth felt he had to hide himself away from someone like Vince.

“I better go, too.” Alanna sighed. “I need to get Zane to his dad’s. Come on, champ.”

Zane looked at her. “I’m going to Daddy’s.” His face had fallen. “Do I have to get changed?”

Alanna glanced at Koby and shrugged. “I think that’s best, honey. Daddy doesn’t understand the tutu.”

It wasn’t Koby’s place to offer an opinion, but now her reluctance to embrace Zane’s gender nonconforming ways made a little more sense.

Yu Yan stayed a while longer with Wendell, but when the clock struck four, they also packed up and left.

Vince still hadn’t come back.

Koby tried to tell himself they had only made loose plans to meet in the afternoon, but he was anxiously playing the conversation he’d overheard over and over in his head. He just wanted Vince to be on his side, to be an LGBT ally, so bad. He didn’t want him to be like those other jocks Koby had been forced to put up with his whole school career, always forcibly reminding him that sport was top dog around here and the arts were something to be ashamed of.

Koby was so wrapped up in his thoughts he jumped when the door went flying open, almost soldering his fingers. But his alarm was replaced by relief when Vince came charging in looking panicked.

“Oh, man,” he cried as he puffed. He’d been running. “I am so sorry. I bumped into a load of my old Bear teammates at Rocket and we just lost track of time. They didn’t want to let me go!” Vince laughed, then sucked in a lungful of air. “Am I late? Do you still need me?”

“I still need you.” Koby was transfixed by Vince.

Having gotten himself into a state, chewing over that conversation, he’d figured that if Vince came at all that evening, he’d stroll in all cocky and nonchalant. But he grinned at Koby and looked eagerly around the room, his gaze landing on the parts of the sculpture.

“Wow, that’s really coming along!” he said, catching his breath. He walked over and inspected the legs that Koby had been working on. “You’ve done so much.”

“Thank you.” Koby kind of wanted to ask who Vince had been hanging around with today. But that was needy and, more to the point, none of Koby’s business. “You still want to work today? I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy.”

“No, no.” Vince shook his head. “Do you, uh, need me to take my clothes off again?”

Koby considered. He had been intending on asking Vince to strip to his underwear again. So had he, from the looks of it. He’d come dressed in sweatpants, T-shirt and sneakers, which would be easier to get changed in and out of. But something felt a little off for Koby after what he’d heard earlier. He didn’t really need to do any more work on Vince’s lower half. It was more or less finished for now, and besides, his torso and face were by far the more distinctive elements about his physique.

“That’s okay.” Koby smiled. Vince really did look happy to be back here with him, so Koby needed to stop worrying. “Just your shirt will be fine. I need to get some final impressions for your particular build and finalize the pose.”

Vince grinned and yanked his T-shirt off without any hesitation, apparently more at home than last time. “Just tell me where you want me, boss,” he said playfully.

Koby considered explaining what he wanted to Vince, but he seemed so much more relaxed today. It would be easier to move him around if he wasn’t bothered by Koby touching him.

Koby grabbed his sketch pad to bring closer to where Vince was standing, leaving it on the same stool as his T-shirt. “Can I move you?” Koby asked, always conscious of consent.

Vince didn’t seem to mind, though, shrugging and grinning. “Sure, dude. Whatever you want. I trust you.”

Koby was aware of his own body’s reactions as he got closer to Vince, resting his hands on his round biceps and touching his fingers to his shoulders, hips and chin. Koby had already acknowledged to himself he found Vince attractive, so he did his best to ignore his heart rate and sipped some water to alleviate his dry mouth. This was just a silly crush on a hot person. Koby would get over it when his cock caught up with his brain and realized nothing was going to happen.

But it was difficult, with Vince smiling down at him whenever Koby touched him in between sketches. Koby didn’t trust himself to speak.

Normally Koby brushed thoughts of other people’s opinions of him off like water from a duck’s back. But he was warring internally, questioning how Vince was feeling. What did it mean, him acting more comfortable today after their talk at the market? And after what he and his buddy had said earlier? Why did Koby need to know that Vince Russo, of all people wasn’t bullshitting him?

“Hey, man,” Vince’s voice cut through Koby’s thoughts. “Are you okay? You seem kind of bummed.”

He reached out as Koby turned back to face him, putting his hand on Koby’s arm. They suddenly seemed very close together, and Vince’s naked chest was near enough Koby could feel the warmth of his skin emanating from him.

Koby shook his head. “I’m just thinking about too many things, I guess,” he mumbled. He didn’t enjoy not expressing himself. It wasn’t his style to bottle things up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vince asked.

Why did he have to be so nice? Goddamn it. Okay, fine, Koby admitted to himself. He wished there was a spark there, some chance he had to explore these feelings with Vince. Unrequited pining was so pointless and a waste of energy. Koby was better than this! He didn’t want to be lusting after a straight guy who hung around with homophobes.

“Not really.” He forced a smile. “It’s okay, I think we’re done for the day. I don’t mind if you want to head off.”

But Vince didn’t drop his arm. His expression certainly became crestfallen, though. “Have I done something?” he asked in a small voice. “I feel like I’ve upset you.”

Shit. Koby had no fucking poker face. “No, no.”

Vince placed his other hand on Koby’s other shoulder. Koby wasn’t that short, so Vince was only a few inches taller than him. But he probably had a hundred pounds on Koby, easily. Koby immediately stiffened in panic, his body going into flight-or-fight mode as memories came flooding back against his will.

“Koby?” Vince asked.

Koby felt how rigid he’d become, but instead of letting him go, Vince rubbed Koby’s arms with his thumbs. Damn it. It was so tempting for Koby to let himself be comforted. But the part of him that was scared stopped him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, tripping over his tongue as his heart threatened to hammer out of his chest. “I…I got bullied at school. By jocks. They kicked the shit out of me,” he managed to stammer. “I try not to remind myself, but-”

“Shit,” Vince cried, letting him go. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Koby, you should have said! I’m so sorry.”

Koby balled up his fists and scowled at the floor, unable to look into Vince’s eyes. “No,” he growled. “You’re not like that. You’re kind and sweet and I shouldn’t be afraid of you.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you.” There was a steely note to Vince’s voice that made Koby look up. “I’m kind of fucking pissed other guys did, though. At school? Did I know them?”

Koby didn’t want to reply. Some of them were on the football team, so probably, yeah. “It was a long time ago,” he mumbled instead.

“I wish I’d known,” Vince cried.

Then he pulled Koby into a hug against his bare chest.

Something cracked in Koby that he hadn’t allowed himself to go anywhere near for years. He had spent so much time and energy building up his strong shell, doing everything he could to protect those around him, he forgot how much he’d yearned for someone to protect him back in those days. Knowing he was right and those bullies were wrong didn’t stop their words from hurting or the bruises from shining.

He choked back a sob, managing to stop himself from crying. But he hugged Vince back, feeling the soft hairs on his chest brush his cheek. He had a woody musk to his skin that filled Koby’s lungs. He was aware he was clinging on a little too tightly.

He pulled back. “Sorry,” he breathed, looking into Vince’s dark brown eyes.

His heart contracted. Vince was looking down at him with such concern, such sincerity. He didn’t flinch away from Koby’s gaze. In fact, he held it, and it was as if they both stopped breathing.

Koby leaned in…

Vince snapped back.

“Oh, uh,” Vince stammered.

Koby immediately let him go and stepped away. Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Had he really just tried to kiss Vince Russo? What the hell was he thinking?

“I’m sorry,” Koby spluttered. “I’m so-”

“No, it’s fine, it’s cool.” Vince hurriedly grabbed his T-shirt. Koby’s sketchpad and pencil went clattering to the floor. They both winced at the noise. “I’m – it’s me.” Vince yanked his shirt back on. “Can I – do you mind – I need to just-”

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Koby felt wretched. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Vince. “I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine,” Vince said. But he was already making for the door. “I just gotta, I don’t know. I’ll text you, I swear.”

And then he was gone.

Koby slumped onto one of the stools, staring blankly at the wall. He was an asshole. Vince had stepped out of his comfort zone and had been on his way to becoming a great ally. Someone who cared about people like Koby and wanted to learn about their lives and issues. And how had Koby repaid him? By turning a moment of comfort into an awkward situation that way overstepped his boundaries.

All he ever wanted to do was make sure people felt welcomed, at ease. He knew what it was like to be the outcast. Now he’d just gone and scared Vince off, probably freaking him the hell out. Guys like his buddy in the hall thought gay men were predators waiting to pounce. Koby had just proven him right.

And for what? Did he really like Vince that much? Vince wasn’t his type…he began to argue with himself. But that wasn’t true. Koby was against guys who made him feel unsafe, who were big enough to overpower him.

Vince’s presence felt protective. Not just now, when he’d gotten mad about Koby’s high school bullies. But always.

He made Koby feel secure.

And now he was gone.

The room was still and empty. The pages of Koby’s sketchpad had fanned out on the floor and the pencil had rolled several feet away. Koby snatched them up, furious at himself, throwing them back onto one of the desks. He grabbed the welding torch, plugging it into the wall and firing it up. He felt the heat on his skin, distracting him from his shame.

He wasn’t sure he could undo what he’d just done to Vince. But maybe he could take that frustration and create some beauty out of misery.

This was his own fault, and what did it matter, anyway? Vince would be leaving town soon.

Koby just wished that when he did, he didn’t think of Koby with revulsion, that was all.