Kell sat huddled up in the corner of his studio apartment, surrounded by moving boxes and lit by a single floor lamp. His heart pounded and his mind raced as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He was neighbors with that guy? It had to be a joke, right? He'd just imagined it?

But no. What had happened back in the hallway was reality. Parker Leipold was here, and he really had slammed into him. They really were neighbors.

Out of all the apartment complexes in the county of Los Angeles, he had to pick the same one that fucking Parker Leipold lived at? What the hell? Did that mean he was going to see him like that, every day? Jesus, would he run into him while doing laundry? Kell cringed as he imagined the scenario—carrying his basket to the laundry room and spotting Parker inside, folding his underwear at the machines. What would he do? Probably spin 180 degrees and run away to hide in his room until he was gone. How embarrassing.

"Ahh!" he groaned, rolling onto the carpet. "Why him? Why him?"

He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Jessie, and then unloaded the story onto her in a long ramble. Jessie, who was working on a painting, listened patiently. When he finished, Kell could hear her clinking her brush against the glass jar of turpentine.

"You know," she said after a moment of silent contemplation, "he is pretty cute. Maybe this is a sign?"

"I just found out I'm neighbors with the one guy in class that hates my guts, and you're saying he's cute?"

"I think you might be overstating his hatred for you," Jessie said. "If anything, I think he likes you."

"You're crazy."

"I mean, he said he liked talented people, right? Maybe that was his way of sending you a hint?"

"That's just weird."

"But you do think he's hot, right? Like, objectively speaking. Any personality stuff aside."

Kell stammered. "Uhh... I mean... he's not bad."

She sighed. "Anyway, I don't think he hates you. I think he's just weird and has a weird way of dealing with people. Kinda like you."

Thanks, Jessie, he thought.

It didn't matter if Parker was attractive or not. That did nothing to change the fact that Parker had always been a jerk to him. People didn't treat those that they liked that way.

Did they?

Kell worked on unpacking his moving boxes, starting with his other art supplies. He had a lot of supplies. In fact, most of his belongings were art supplies. Paints, brushes, volumes and volumes of sketchbooks... He reassembled the Ikea shelf he had and filed everything away as he mulled over his new situation. It was weird to think that Parker was here, somewhere in this building, doing something. What would he be doing, anyway? Painting, maybe.

He sighed as he thought of Parker's work. That was one thing he could not deny—his art was incredible, inspiring and moving. Maybe there was more to him lying below the surface? If he could make art like that... Maybe he was hiding another part of himself.

He tried to imagine a sensitive side of Parker, and for some dumb reason could only picture him lying naked on a bed of flowers, gazing up at him with his icy blue eyes. "I'm sensitive, too, Kell... I don't mean to be an asshole to you..."

"Ugh. Weird," he muttered. "Get out of my head."

He went and took a cold shower to try and wash the image of Parker from his thoughts, but the guy persisted, refusing to leave. That night, he dreamed he went to the laundry room and found Parker there, loading his clothes into one of the machines. Hesitantly, he placed his hamper down onto the machine next to Parker's and began to toss his clothes inside. His heart was pounding as he wondered if Parker would acknowledge him. Then Parker tugged off his shirt and tossed it into the machine. Kell couldn't help but sneak a look to see what his shirtless form was like. His heart hammered even harder, and his cock swelled up firm. Parker turned to him and smiled.

"You're amazing, you know that, Kell?" he said, and reached out to take Kell's hand.

"Wha? I'm not... Really..."

Parker pulled him in close. He felt the warmth of Parker's skin through his shirt, and he found himself running his fingers up Parker's muscles. He couldn't help but indulge his curiosity.

"Oh, yeah," Parker murmured in an uncharacteristically exuberant tone. "That feels so good."

Parker slid his hand around the back of Kell's neck and drew him up towards him. Their lips met. Kell's cock throbbed, stiff as a rock. It ached for him, and then suddenly he felt Parker's hand tightening around his girth. Suddenly he was completely naked and they were no longer in the laundry room, but inside their classroom, and everyone was there like shadows, watching them. Kell didn't care. He barely even noticed. He was riding with the motions of Parker's hand, feeling his lips on his neck. Oh god, it felt so good. It felt so good, he was going to...

He was going to...

"Ahh!"

His eyes sprung open, his heart racing in his chest. Cool morning light filtered in through his blinds, dancing across his mattress, which was still on the bare floor with the unassembled frame lying next to it. His cock pulsed hot stickiness, and he pushed his hand down into his pajamas to confirm what had just happened.

"Shit..."

When was the last time he'd had a wet dream? Had he ever had a wet dream before? He really couldn't remember. But it probably shouldn't be a surprise—he'd never had a chance to release any build up. Of course he'd be horny. Of course he'd dream about sex. But why Parker? There were guys in his class he would have had no problem having a sex dream about, and Parker was not among them.

The guy'd been on his mind, like it or not. That was probably all there was to it. But if that was the case... why did Parker seem unusually attractive to him now? Was it just because of what Jessie had said?

He groaned and got out of bed, slipping off his pajama bottoms and carrying them to the bathroom to wash in the sink. His dick ached, as if it really had been squeezed in the tight grasp of Parker's warm fist. And just as the thought ran through his head, he felt a prickle of excitement run down between his legs.

He bit his lip and did his best to push it out of his mind as he hurried to get ready for work. It was going to be another long day. Four hours of soul-sucking retail before heading right into class. He sometimes wondered why he even bothered renting an apartment. With the intensity of all the projects he had to do, it might make more sense just to sleep under a table in the art studio at school. He'd probably get more work done that way, too.

Despite his efforts, pesky thoughts of Parker followed him all the way to work. He couldn't help but replay that dream over and over again in his mind.

He wasn't into him. That's what he told himself. But he couldn't stop thinking about him.

So what if Parker did think highly of him? It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't change his feelings towards him, not at all.

Would it?

"Kell. Kell!"

"Hm?"

Kell snapped out of his thoughts as his floor manager, Montrell, waddled up to him with an annoyed expression on his face. Kell'd been staring blankly at the rack of anti-virus software, his mind off in inappropriate places.

"Wake up, man. We've got a line of people who need to be helped. You know how understaffed we are, I need you to be on your A-game. C'mon, c'mon."

"Right," Kell said as he went off to enter the fray. "Sorry."

"And remember," Montrell hissed at him. "Upsell! Warranties."

They were severely understaffed, which meant that Kell had to take on several jobs outside his position to make up for it. He was zipping around the entire store, running himself exhausted. He helped a couple find a laptop before going over to the home theater department and selling a TV, and then back into the warehouse to find it and lug the box out to their car by himself. During every moment of it all, he was wondering what the hell he was doing there. He was an artist. A damn good one. Why wasn't he working for an art firm? Or better yet, why wasn't he running one? Why didn't he have hundreds of clients paying for his artwork?

Oh, right. Because he still was terrified of selling himself.

"I took a look at your reports," Montrell said to him near the end of his shift. "Look, Kell, we really need you to be selling warranties on those computers and TVs."

"I attached some accessories," Kell offered. "Even sold some people on some of those fancy cables."

"We need you to sell warranties, buddy," Montrell said. "So, you gonna try a little harder next time?"

No, he thought. If he had a hard time selling his own work, stuff that he cared passionately about, how the hell was he going to manage selling people on things he didn't give two shits about?

"I'll do what I can," he said.

Montrell smiled and punched his shoulder. "Great. That's what I like hearing."

When Kell got to class, he found himself sneaking glances towards where Parker usually sat. He hadn't come in yet. Jessie plonked down into her seat next to him and pulled out her earbuds.

"Hey, guy," she said, grinning at him.

"What're you so happy about?" he asked.

"Guess who sold a piece today? This girl! This month’s living expense? Covered. Bam. And the buyer might even commission me for something else."

"Oh," he said, unenthused. Normally he would've been happy for her, but he felt like absolute junk today.

"Oh," she said. "You're in a bad mood."

"Sorry," he said. "Work fucking sucks."

"Hmm," she replied. He knew Jessie had received his complaints about work more times than she probably cared to hear, and she'd always been blunt with her responses.

"You could sell your work, if you tried harder," she'd said. "You give up too easily on that."

The door opened, and Professor Young entered and walked to the front of the classroom. Kell peeked over again and saw that Parker's seat was still empty. Had that guy ever been late to class? He'd always seemed like such a perfect student. Never tardy, never absent, usually early. Militantly responsible.

Professor Young announced their next assignment would be a group effort in which they'd be creating illustration work along special marketing guidelines and on a tight deadline. Marketing and creating work specifically to business specifications was something that Kell didn't have much experience with. He was used to following guidelines for school projects but designing work for commercial purpose was a little different. He was used to having a lot of freedom, so this would be a good experience.

"Hey," he whispered to Jessie. "Be in my group? I suck at doing marketing stuff."

"For sure. But you think I'm any better?" she said.

"Better than me. At least you have experience working with clients."

She shrugged. "I guess."

Everyone was chattering, grouping up, when Professor Young spoke up. "Wait, wait, let's not get too ahead of ourselves. When working for firms we don't often get to choose the people we work alongside with. So, for this project, I'm assigning you randomly into groups of three."

Everyone groaned.

"So much for that," said Jessie.

Professor Young started grouping people off from his roster, ticking names away. Everyone who Kell would've wanted to work with was already being assigned off to groups. Jessie's name was called next, and she moved off to sit with the new group. Soon, it seemed like everyone had been assigned off except for him, and he figured that would just mean he'd be slotted in to one of the existing groups, making it a group of four. The classroom door opened again, but this time Kell wasn't really paying attention. Professor Young touched his glasses and squinted at the roster.

"Well, it appears I'd made a miscalculation, so it looks like our last group is going to be a pair. But considering who the remaining folks are, I don't think that'll be a problem." He looked up at Kell and smiled. The rest of the class chuckled. Faces turned to look at him.

"Kelly and Parker, you two are in the last group."

Kell felt his heart do a triple flip in his chest, and his natural response to glance over at Parker's empty seat. Only, it wasn't empty. Parker was there, and he looked over at him with an expression of what Kell read as something between annoyance and cold indifference. Kell's heart did another flip, and his mind suddenly flashed back to the dream he'd had. He quickly looked away.

"Oh, dammit," he muttered to himself.

Parker grabbed his bag and made his way over to him, and in Kell's mind it felt like Parker was advancing towards him like a wolf coming after his prey. Kell was nervous, way more nervous than he had any right to be. But it wasn't because he was frightened of Parker. He was nervous for a completely different reason, now. Some weird switch seemed to have been flipped in his mind since the day before.

Parker pulled up a chair next to Kell and sat down, and a brief waft of his scent drifted over to him as he did. Kell swallowed, wondering if he'd always smelled that good.

Dammit, he thought. Enough of that.

"I know I can count on you not to screw this up for us, right?" Parker said. "I have high expectations."

"Don't worry about me," Kell said, tensely. "Mine are just as high as yours."

"I don't doubt that."

Kell looked at him, unsure if he'd just received some kind of weird Parker compliment.

"Wonderful," Professor Young said. "Project details are online. We won't be using all of our studio time to work on this project, so make sure to get your group members’ contact information so that you can meet outside of class. The deadline is in two days, people. Okay, let's move right in to our lecture on color theory...."

At the end of class, Parker leaned over and said, "Meet me in the art studio." Before Kell could respond, he was already out of his seat and walking for the door.

"What is up with him," he said to himself.

"Well, this should be fun," Jessie said, coming up and nudging him in his side. "You and Parker working together. Think you can deal with him?"

"Fun’s not the word I'd use to describe this situation," Kell said. "More like... nightmare."

"Oh, come on. Learn to deal with him, Kell. You're going to have to deal with plenty of dark-hearted fuckers in this career, anyway. Worse than him."

"I know that," Kell said. "It's just... I don't know why he gets to me so much."

She pouted her lips. "Hmmmm. Mystery."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's okay to admit you find him attractive," she said, smiling. "Just admit it. It'll make your life easier."

Kell felt his face go hot. "I mean... He's..." He sighed. He could fight against it as much as he wanted, but it was true. Parker was still a gigantic douche, that hadn't changed, but... "Yeah," he said. "I guess I can admit he’s good looking." Dangerously sexy, how about?

Jessie tittered a laugh and patted Kell's shoulder. "There ya go. That wasn't so hard. It's not like you're gonna fall in love with him if you think he's hot. Just loosen up, okay?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Let me know how it goeeeesss," she said, dragging it out in a sing-song way.

He grabbed his bag and left the classroom for the art studio. He stopped outside the door, and found himself pacing back and forth, unable to go inside.

"What the heck is wrong with me?" he said to himself. Yeah, he found Parker attractive. Hot. Sexy. Whatever. That was clear. But why the hell did he feel so damn nervous about meeting with him? His stomach was filled with butterflies. "Come on, Kell," he said, and opened the door.

The studio was a large, brightly lit classroom, with easels and art horses in place of desks. There was a raised platform in the middle of the room where models stood for figure drawing sections. The smell of oil paint and turpentine lingered in the air, and the floor was spattered and streaked with fallen paint and charcoal. Drawings and paintings done by students lined the walls. In a corner was a stack of wood for stretching canvas. Rolls of blue jumbo paper towels were scattered across the countertops next to paint-marked sinks that once were spotless stainless steel. Kell gently closed the door behind him. The room was empty except for Parker, who straddled one of the art horses, his back facing him. He was drawing in his sketchbook, and the room was so quiet that Kell could hear the scratches of his pencil against the paper.

Parker closed his sketchbook and turned around on the art horse as Kell walked over to him. Kell could practically hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Come on, Kell. Get it together.

"Hey," Parker said.

Kell thrust his hands into his pockets, stopping a couple feet away. Parker didn't stand to meet him.  

"Look," Kell said. "If we're going to get through this I need to know what your deal is."

"You're still going on about that? Let it go."

"I just want to know why you're always so harsh to me. Did I do something to offend you?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Parker sighed, and then stood up. Parker was about a head taller than he was, and he craned his neck slightly to look into his eyes.

"You shouldn't care so much about what people think about you," Parker said. "It doesn't do anything to serve you or your work." He took a step forward, and Kell stepped back. "Artists need to be bulletproof if they're going to survive out there in the real world." Parker took another step forward, and Kell retreated further back. His heart raced even harder. What the hell was Parker doing?

"I know how you are," Parker went on, still advancing. "You're afraid. Afraid of what people say. Of what they think."

"W-what..." Kell stammered, as he kept retreating from Parker's advances.

"And that's what's keeping you from getting to the next level," Parker said, his voice like a low growl. "That's what's keeping you from being better than me."

Kell backed into one of the art horses and tripped over it. He shouted, grabbing frantically at the air as he fell backwards. Suddenly, he felt Parker's hand snag his wrist, and he was yanked forward onto his feet. He stumbled with the momentum of the pull and slammed cheek-first into Parker's chest, his left arm held up awkwardly in the air in Parker's fist. He took in a breath of Parker's scent, the smell of his shirt and the warm aroma that lay beneath the fabric. He tugged his wrist free and pushed away.

"Watch out," Parker said.

Kell's face was hot. He hated how easily he blushed. "You're fucking full of yourself," he said.

"I'm just being real. You know I'm telling the truth. But if you really can't see that, then I guess I was wrong about you, and you aren't as good as I thought."

He looked away. "Screw you. Just because you're right doesn't mean you're also not a douche."

Parker shrugged. "I admit it. I am. That's just how I am. But you and I working together, I think we have a shot at creating something really great. I'm excited to see what we can make together. But you need to be less afraid."

Kell's heart was still pounding, but somehow, having been confronted about it like that had actually wiped some of the nerves away. To his surprise, he felt braver. Now the only butterflies in his stomach were because of that brief moment of contact they'd had.

"Only if you promise to be less of an ass," Kell said. "But maybe I can't expect that of you."

Now I know he doesn't hate my guts, at least, Kell thought. That was something. Actually, he felt the opposite. Jessie had been right—the guy was a jerk because he admired Kell's work. He was trying to push him to get better by being harsh on him. On the one hand, it irritated him that a guy the same age was treating him like he was his little disciple, or something. But on the other hand... it was Parker. Parker Leipold was interested in him, and the thought gave him a little thrill.

"I can't promise anything," Parker said, "But I'll try." For the first time, a slight smile formed on his lips. Kell's heart did a little flip when he saw it.

Damn, he thought. He's actually really hot when he smiles.

And then, as quick as it'd come, it was gone.

"Well, I'm glad we got all that cleared up," Kell said. "I could've sworn you didn't like me, or something."

"I never said that I do," Parker said.

"What happened to trying to not be an ass?"

Parker snorted. "Anyway. We should exchange phone numbers."

"Yeah, okay." They pulled out their phones and swapped info. It felt a little weird—Parker was the absolute last person he would've believed he'd exchange numbers with.

"And as for address... I guess we don't really need to exchange that information."

"No, I guess not.” Kell said. “Anyway, we can take care of the project here at school. It's not like I have much room at my apartment." And he felt weird about the idea of Parker coming over to his place.

"Yeah," Parker said. "Me neither. It's best we just meet here to do the work. Most of the final work will be done digitally, anyway. We can work in the library."

It was a surprise that Parker was living in a crappy apartment in Forest Glenn, because he knew that Parker came from wealth. He’d heard it mentioned before that Parker was living in a swanky hillside loft, but apparently that wasn't true, at least anymore. Kell wondered if something had happened, or if maybe he wasn't as spoiled as he thought. The guy did still drive a Bentley, though.

Parker opened his sketchbook and turned it to Kell. "I did a few quick thumbnail mockups. Take a look."

Kell took the sketchbook from him, surprised. He'd done these in the fifteen minutes since class had ended? They were rough, no doubt, but clear on the concept as an advertisement for the mock company they were supposed to be designing for.

"These are really good," Kell said. "I had no idea you were so good at commercial stuff."

"It helps that I already do this kind of thing for work," Parker replied.

Kell felt a pang of self-consciousness. Right. So, he wasn't just living off mommy and daddy's money. Parker was already working professionally. Of course he would be. With work like his...

"But," Parker said, "I have no doubt that you could easily learn this. Absolutely no reason why you shouldn't be able to, with your skills."

Kell looked at him, surprised. "Did you just give me a compliment? An actual nice compliment?"

Parker smirked. "Did that make you feel better?"

Kell rolled his eyes and pushed the sketchbook into Parker's chest. "So, should we sit down somewhere and do some more mockups?"

"Unfortunately, I can't today. I have work after class."

"Crap. I've got work before class."

"Where do you work?" Parker asked.

Kell shifted uncomfortably. Again, that damn easy blush response. "Oh, just a... This one, um...it's a big company."

"A design firm?"

"Not exactly… I work retail.”

“Are you serious? You work retail?”

“I'd rather not talk about work," Kell said, feeling slightly humiliated.

Parker shrugged. "Fair enough. I understand."

"So, how are we going to do this? With our schedules..."

"I suppose we'll need to meet at night," Parker said. "Or on the weekends. Any time we have to meet."

Considering they did live in the same apartment complex, meeting at one or the other's apartment would've been a clear and easy solution, but Kell definitely did not want to have him over. It would just be weird, and besides, his place was Spartan bare and looked like it was being occupied by a serial killer. He reminded himself he needed to get that bed assembled.

"Alright. Well, I'll put together some mockups and send them over to you tonight," said Kell.

"Okay," Parker said.

There was a weird moment of silence that passed between them as Parker looked like he had something more he wanted to say. Kell waited for a moment, and then averted his gaze. He couldn't hold Parker's stare for too long—his icy blue eyes were still slightly intimidating, and now they were making his stomach do little flips...

"Well, I'll see you later," Kell said. Parker nodded, and the two of them left the art studio. Kell split off from him, walking quickly down the hallway. His mind replayed the embarrassing moment he'd fallen into Parker's chest. He closed his eyes and found himself trying to remember Parker's smell.

God, he thought. What's wrong with me? I must be going crazy.