Kyle has trouble sleeping that night. Curled up on his bottom bunk, he stares at the dark room. He rolls over and stares at the cinderblock wall. He huffs and rolls onto his back, staring at the bunk above him. He can hear Jasper's soft breaths, just a fraction away from being a snore. One of the things Kyle noticed when they moved into the dorm was that Jasper fell asleep fast and hard. He could sleep through anything, and he got there almost instantly. Kyle's extremely jealous of that.

It's always taken him a while to fall asleep. He has too many thoughts and they buzz around too rapidly, either repeating events from the day or thinking about the days coming up or thinking about what he needs to do on his game.

For the past few years, when the shadows creep and his body starts to relax, his mental walls coming down, he dwells on memories of his brother and of the hollow pit that's been in his chest ever since the accident.

He feels empty most days, which he prefers to the sharp sting when the wound was fresh, but that doesn't stop the ache in his chest that he feels most nights.

Tonight, however, Kyle's thoughts don't linger on his brother, nor do they linger on Cry Thunder or his classes. They linger on Jake, and Kyle isn't sure if that's better or worse. He's going to go with worse.

He can hear Jake's words echoing in his head, disappearing into the shadows of his mind and bouncing back more twisted, more mocking, revealing the undertones that are so easy to hide but Kyle knows are there.

Shy.

Anxious.

Lonely.

He knows what those words mean.

Pathetic.

Pitiful.

Anti-social.

He rolls onto his side, curling in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest and holding his blankets tight to his chest. He breathes in deep and tries to let it out slowly, but it shudders out. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the thoughts away. He tries to focus on Cry Thunder, on his new damage algorithms. They're working so far, but there's still a bug with the ranger class. Ranger damage doesn't always calculate critical strikes the way it should—

My new quest. You'll be my little buddy.

Jake sees him as nothing but a pet project. A doll to have fun with. Someone broken and fixable. Someone to dress up and parade around to his friends. Hey, guys, look at this nerd I found. Watch him dance. Watch him try to fit in. Let's get a good laugh—

It's not the first time he's been used for the entertainment of others. It's not the first time he's been mocked and laughed at. And it wouldn't be the first time someone pretended to be his friend just to make him do things, as a bet or to entertain their friends. Get the nerd to do something embarrassing. Laugh at the geek who's trying to come out of his shell. He's not a stranger to bullying, and experience has taught him that people like Jake are usually the bullies.

And it doesn't help that Kyle usually finds them extremely attractive, and they make him weak in the knees, and he hopes that this one will be different, but they never are.

Is that why he's so hurt over this?

He did try to say no, and Jake managed to weasel his way past Kyle's defenses. He knows he's weak to a pretty face, but... he thought he'd gotten better. Had he convinced himself that Jake was different? That he wouldn't be like all the others who've tried to use Kyle for entertainment or for someone to cheat off of?

Oh god, he had, hadn't he?

Jake had spilled his little sob story and batted his eyelashes, and Kyle had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. His defenses had crumbled just enough for Jake to sneak inside. Then he starts talking like Kyle is someone to be fixed, sending up all those red flags that he's learned to notice, and— Kyle shouldn't feel so hurt over this. He's not a stranger to this. If anything, he should be mad. He should be indifferent. He should just brush it off as an I-knew-it moment and move on. No harm, no foul.

Yet here he is, curled up in bed, unable to sleep, torn up inside with Jake's words echoing around in his head, haunting him.

He really is pathetic.

What did he think would happen? Jake would walk into his life, pristine and strong, with his pretty smile and scruffy jaw, prove to Kyle that some jocks were different and sweep him off his feet? Yeah, right. He'd like to tell himself that isn't what he thought, but... the ache inside him says otherwise. He's an idiot. Jake is straight as a rod, and he's just like everyone else.

Time for Kyle to move on. He doesn't have time for tutoring and cute boys anyway. He has to work on his game. He has to finish his game. He has to graduate and release his game. It's what his brother would've wanted. He has to make their dream a reality because he’s the only one who can.

He clenches his fists, burying his face into his pillow. Alright, no more tutoring. Next time he sees Jake, he'll tell him it's not working out. He can find another tutor easily. He doesn't need Kyle specifically. They'll both move on before Kyle can get hurt.

It's for the best.

But it still hurts.

* * *

Kyle feels like he's in a haze as he showers and gets dressed, partially from drowsiness and mostly because he just feels numb. All his emotions feel muted and inconsequential. It's a familiar feeling lately, and he finds some comfort in it. At least like this he doesn't have to care about Jake.

He packs his bag, pulls on his hoodie, slings his bag onto his back, and grabs a nutrition bar on his way out the door. His room is only on the third floor, and he hates having to wait at the elevators. So out of habit, he turns from them, heading for the stairwell and moving quickly down the steps. He has fifteen minutes to get to his next class, which will be easy enough. It only takes five to walk there, but he likes to be early.

He slips out of his dorm building after a couple of others, head ducked down as he checks his messages and his email on his phone.

"Kyle!"

He freezes, stumbling mid-step and nearly tripping. When he finds his balance, he spins around, phone in one hand and nutrition bar halfway to his mouth as his eyes zero in on Jake. He pushes off the wall of the dorm, jogging a couple of steps to catch up to him.

"Hey," he says, smiling sheepish and strangely breathless despite the jog being only a couple of feet. His hair looks messy and still damp from a shower, bag lazily slung over only one shoulder. He holds the strap with one hand, the other shoved in his pocket.

"Uh, hi?" Kyle manages to say. It takes him a second to build his walls back up again and shake out any lingering though that Jake looks... really, really good today. He looks good every day, he reminds himself. Get over it. He shakes his head, eyes narrowing as he purses his lips. "What're you doing here?"

"I, uh..." Jake runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands in what Kyle is learning is a nervous gesture. He looks away, eyes flickering across the sea of students trudging from their dorms all around them, setting off on the walk paths to campus. He sighs, posture slumping as he turns back to Kyle. "Look, I just wanted to apologize about yesterday. About the things I said. I didn't mean them like that. Like... bad. I just wanted to show my appreciation, you know? Help you out for helping me out. This means... so much to me. I really need this tutoring, and I'd really like for you to be the one to do it, so I'm just... really sorry."

He looks exhausted. There are dark bags under his eyes, and his entire face is open and haggard. None of the posturing or the smirks, he's not trying to hide anything. He looks... honest and genuine. Kyle feels his heart squeeze and his stomach flutter, and—

No. No. He needs to say no. He needs to tell Jake he won't do it. It's over. He has things he needs to focus on. He can't do this anymore. He needs to end it before he gets hurt.

But when he opens his mouth, the words that come out are, "We need to set some ground rules." Jake visibly perks up at that, eyes widening and body lifting. His smile is hesitant, but hopeful, and he looks too goddamn much like an excited puppy. Kyle can feel his heart squeeze, and he really needs to get ahold on himself. He holds out the hand with his phone, putting one finger in the air to stop whatever Jake might say. "I'll help you and continue to tutor you, but I manage my own social life. This is strictly academic and professional. I don't need friends, and I don't want them. I have to focus on my studies. I'm not here to party. Got it?"

Jake's shoulder slump again. He doesn't look upset, but he purses his lips, brows furrowing as he looks Kyle over. There's pity in his eyes, and it makes Kyle bristle. "That's... kinda sad, isn't it? Like, lonely? What's the point if you can't have fun?"

Kyle stiffens, lifting himself to his full height and lifting his chin. He glares up at Jake. "Do you agree or not?"

Jake puts up his hands quickly. "I agree, okay. I get it. No dragging you to parties. We're just here to study."

Kyle nods once, and steps past him, continuing along the path to his class. "Good. Meet me here later to go over your practice problems for the test on Friday."

"I'll text you when I'm free!" Jake calls out, and Kyle stiffens, shoulders rising toward his ears. He simply lifts a hand and waves it to show that he heard.

Heat flushes to his cheeks and a smile tugs at his lips. He puts his phone away and slaps at his cheek. "Get yourself together, Kyle," he grumbles, dragging his hand down his face.

Strictly professional. Jake isn't his friend, and Jake isn't interested in him. He's not interested in Jake. He's just doing this to get a little money on the side. The fact that Jake looked wholly apologetic and genuine doesn't change anything. It doesn't mean he's different than the rest, and it doesn't mean Kyle should let his guard down.

He ignores the fact that by the time he gets to class, his void in his heart is a little less vacant and he feels a little less numb.