Through the Fire

[Scion]

Well. Here I am. With my first m/m. I've read quite a lot of it, so I'm pretty familiar with it...but this is my first time writing it, so...who knows if it'll be any good. This is a fairly short part to introduce the characters, so there's no sneezing in it yet, but there will be a lot coming up (in the next update), so stick with me. Also, there is a bit of swearing, so...just thought I'd warn you.

Part One:

It struck fast this time, a sudden blow of heat smashing down on him like a rush of lava. Ty Callahan stuffed his hands into his pockets, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes as the haze of dizzy heat crested. He shouldn’t be here, with everyone else, with all the normal people and their normal minds.

First day of college, and he was already about to lose it in front of all the people he’d have to live with for the rest of the year. There, seated in his Composition class, he was going to mark himself as the lunatic he’d always been, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d left his lighter back in his room, like a fucking idiot, and now he was trapped. Ten minutes still remained of class. Too many. He wouldn’t make it.

Breathe, he screamed in his mind. Goddammit, not now! Not here! He started tapping his foot as sweat rained down his back. That’s when the ringing started, his ears warning him of what was to come.

“Hey.”

Ty rubbed his hands over his face, tapped his foot faster. Jesus. Jesus. Don’t do this. Don’t do this. Please, God. Not now.

“Hey.”

Someone kicked the leg of Ty’s chair. Shit. Ty gasped in a breath. Suck it up, asshole. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. You can do this.

He turned to his right, flicked a glance up at a pale face, at blue eyes, at dark, spiky hair, then quickly looked away, unable to meet that cobalt gaze.

“What?” he snapped out, as anger at himself sang in his veins.

The guy standing in front of him took a step closer, and Ty imagine he was narrowing his eyes. “Class is over, man,” he said in a smooth drawl.

Ty glanced around the room, found it empty. Shit. How had he not noticed? How long had he been sitting there like a complete fucking idiot? “No shit,” he said, to cover up his embarrassment. He swiped the sweat from his brow, fingers twitching, wanting to curl around the lighter that wasn’t there.

Don’t lost it now, he told himself furiously. Keep it together for one more minute. Just one more and you’ll be free.

From the corner of his eye, Ty saw the guy frown, shove his hands into his pockets. “Bite my fuckin’ head off,” he muttered, kicking at the front of Ty’s desk.

Ty said nothing, wishing the guy would just leave him the hell alone so he could go crazy without an audience. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last before the ringing eclipsed all other sound, before the shadows darkening his vision spread.

Connor stared at his roommate and shook his head. Callahan clearly had no idea who Connor was, despite the fact that they’d spent the past week of their initiation living in the same closet-sized room. The guy hadn’t once looked at him, and Connor assumed it would be pretty difficult to recognize someone you refused to even glance at, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. But he was. And he was also scared shitless. Somehow, Callahan had figured out his secret; that’s why he wouldn’t look him in the eye. Would he tell everyone? He didn’t exactly seem like the most sociable of guys, but that meant next to nothing. Connor shuddered inwardly. He had to play nice with this asshole, even if it killed him.

“When’s your next class?”

Callahan shifted in his seat, covered one bright green eye with his left hand. “What the hell do you care?” he grunted, staring down at his right hand, which was curled into a fist on top of the desk.

“I wanna know how long I’ll have the room to myself before your sorry ass reappears,” Connor lied, his gaze boring into the top of his roommates auburn head.

“Fuck you,” the guy muttered, standing. He stalked past Connor, ramming his shoulder into him on the way.

Connor stumbled back a step and turned to glare at Callahan’s back as the SOB thundered out of the room and into the hall.

I’m screwed, Connor thought grimly as he followed his roommate out into the carpeted hall. A guy like Ty Callahan wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut for long. By the end of the day, Connor felt sure the entire campus would know, and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Not after the way his parents had reacted when they’d found out. It was ridiculous, sure, but he was skilled at being ridiculous, and he damn well wanted to stay that way for a good long time.

“Great,” he muttered. How the hell had Callahan found out, anyway? Connor had kept it hidden his entire life, and now one asshole had figured him out without even looking at him!?

Life was shit, he realized as he pounded out of Ender Hall and down the steps, heading back to his dorm. And shit was life.

--------

Okay, I have a question for you all. I know you haven't read much yet, but does anyone have a preference on who is to be the future sneezer? I sort of have a preference myself, but I'm interested to see what you think. If you don't really care, that's fine, too. Just know that I can't make them both sneezers, LOL. Well, I could, but I won't.

[Zane]

This sounds pretty good so far. I'm looking forward to more. thanks so much for writing this! I think that Connor should be the sneezer but Callahan sounds good too..... hmmmmmmmm..... *thinks for like 2 seconds* yep still go with Connor. lol.

[Scion]

Well, since I only got one reply, I decided to write a little more without sneezing, just because I still want to hear what you all have to say about who should be the sneezer. I gotta say, I bet the person I have picked in my head isn't going to be the one you guys pick, since I tend always to be the odd-one-out, LOL.

The next update will have sneezing. Cross my heart!

Part Two:

Ty barely made it through Psych, his second and last class of the day. His mind had been working over time, taunting him, trying to get him to slip up, to focus on what should not ever be focused on, to fear what should not ever be feared. He got by on dumb luck and a lot of deep breathing. He’d felt condemning eyes on him, but he’d kept his head down and pretended he didn’t notice. If he’d looked up, he’d have lost it.

Now, as he shouldered open the door to his room, he prayed it would be empty, that his roommate had gone out. No such luck.

Connor Marshall lay draped across his bed, long legs dangling over the edge of the stone-like mattress, small laptop open on his chest. Daring a brief glance at his face, Ty saw that his eyes were closed. A second later, a series of low snores sliced through the silence, and Ty let out a breath of pathetic relief. Marshall was asleep.

Ty opened the bottom drawer of his desk, eyed the small glass bottles he had lined up there, plucked one free, chugged it. His body was already so overheated, that he didn’t notice the burn as the liquid trailed down his throat, sickeningly warm. Trying not to gag at the awful taste, he got down another, and another, knowing he was insane even as he shoved the empty bottles back into the drawer.

He didn’t do this. He’d never done this. Drinking had never been his thing. He had enough humiliating memories lined up without adding more to the table. His younger brother, Max, had a thing for robbing hotel mini-bars, so when Ty had opened his duffel to find ten small bottles hidden inside his sweatshirt, he hadn’t been surprised. He also hadn’t thought he’d be using them any time soon. Then again, if he’d foreseen what his first day of classes would be like, he’d have known better.

He trudged over to his bed, kicked off his sneakers, and fell atop it, face-first, with a muted grunt. Jesus God, he’d made it. Through one day.

This was not good.

Connor blinked open his eyes, yawning, and felt something warm pressing into his stomach. He shifted his gaze to the laptop still perched on top of him, burning a hole through his skin. Quickly, he moved the thing aside, looked around.

Callahan was lying on his own bed across the room, one arm and leg dangling over the side, his face smooshed into the pillow. Connor wondered how the guy could breathe with his mouth and nose covered like that. Then Callahan groaned raggedly and turned onto his side so that he was facing Connor, his face lax, a deep flush creeping up his cheeks. He looked different while he slept, nicer, less intimidating, though that furrow still sat etched over his brow, apparently permanent. Connor could see the barest spattering of light freckles across Callahan's nose, and he unconsciously leaned closer to get a better look. That’s when Callahan’s eyes opened, and--for the briefest of instants--caught and held Connor’s own. Then those grass green eyes darted away, and Connor shrank bank in embarrassment. Clearly, his roommate found him repulsive. He wondered if already the rumors had begun to spread. Then he figured he probably didn’t want to know.

The sound of muffled laughter had Connor jerking his gaze back to Callahan, his mortification rising. The guy was on his back now, arm flung over his eyes, chest shuddering as he laughed unendingly.

Oh, God, this was it. Callahan was going to call him out. Connor braced himself, swinging his legs over the bed. He didn’t want to be lying down when the other guy let ‘im have it.

But minutes past and Callahan said nothing, just kept laughing and laughing and laughing, his voice starting to grow hoarse with the over-usage of his vocal chords.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, Connor stood, stalked over to the bed. Loomed over the other man. “Will you just stop laughing and say it already! It’s not that fucking funny!”

Callahan kept up with the chortling, but he choked out, “I can’t…belieeeeve I’ff neverrrr tried thisss b’fore.”

Connor frowned, glanced at the clock on his desk. “Are you…drunk?” he asked incredulously. “At two in the afternoon?”

“Whasss it t’you, uh? Why’a you care? You--you’re s’possed t’be assssleep.”

What the--? This was just fantastic. Not only was Callahan a dick and rat, but he was also a goddamned closet-wino. Perfect.

“I don’t care,” Connor stated flatly. “Just make sure you don’t throw up over any of my shit. Got it?”

“Mm’not gonna throw up,” he slurred, flopping back onto his stomach. His right arm curved over the side of the bed, and Connor saw something small and blue clutched in the guy’s white fist; peering closer, he saw that it was a lighter.

Strange. Was Callahan a smoker, too? Connor hadn’t ever seen him smoke, but that wasn’t saying much. Knowing his luck, his roommate would also turn out to have a stash of unauthorized weapons underneath his mattress.

With this lovely thought bouncing around in his head, Connor scrubbed a hand over his face, grabbed his keys, and headed out.

This was going to be a long year.

Back inside the room, Ty finally stopped laughing. He’d thought he’d been drunk, hoped for it, but now that he was alone, he just felt dizzy. His problems were still there, hovering around his mind, storm clouds waiting to send a downpour of misery on top of him. One of these days, he wasn’t going to be able to keep his mind in check. One of these days, his fear would get the better of him and he’d make a fool of himself in front of a classroom of people, people who’d never look at him the same way again.

He was weak. Pathetic. He couldn’t even control his own thoughts. He let his irrational terror get the better of him. Over and over and over and he was so tired of it. He didn’t think he could handle one more loss. He squeezed his fingers around the comforting rectangle of his lighter.

Fire, he thought. Pain, he thought. Humiliation, he thought. Connor, he thought.

--------

So, whaddya all think? Please share with me, because it will make me really happy!

[princessontheporch]

Loving it so far. I'm at uni now and this just so reminds me of my first year for some reason! Wouldn't mind some sneezes from either of them but Connor sounds cute.

[Butch]

Scion - Excellent start.. looking forward to more. I don't have a preference..either one of them can sneeze.

[LeapYearKisses]

This is quite interesting so far! Can't wait to see more. I also think Connor should sneeze.

[LetMeBe]

I think Callahan should sneeze...just me though. hahaha.

[sprinkles287]

My vote's for Connor... Ty's already suffering enough, right? Let Connor be the sick one trying to figure Ty out... I have a hunch he may already be "taking care" of Ty soon. Maybeeeeee?

[Coffee Mug]

wow..the story's very interesting and I can't wait to read more!!

I'd choose Connor to sneeze, he seems cute!

I prefer when cute helpless guys sneeze, don't like the ones who have an aggressive temper

[Scion]

All right. I have a confession to make. I'd originally planned to make Ty the sneezer, since he's the one who sort of needs to be taken care of, 'cause he's got some serious issues, and, even after I saw all the Connor votes, I was still feeling stubborn. But then Sprinkles287 brought up a good point and completely changed my mind, so all of you out there should be happy. 'Cause I'm not. LOL. But oh well. I want you all to really like it, so Connor is the one.

Zane: Belatedly, I want to thank you for your kind words. I always appreciate it!

Princessontheporch: Yep. This reminds me of my first year, too. It's actually pretty much based on it, LOL, except not really. But Ty kinda reminds me of myself...except I'm not actually that rude, haha. Connor doesn't remind me of anyone, but whatever, you think he's cute and I'm happy!

Mims: Thanks! I was waiting for your comment to pop up so I could smile!

Leap-Year Kisses: Thank you! Yet more smiles on my face thanks to you! Another Connor girl, ahaha.

LetMeBe: Just you AND me! Oh well. We can be sad together, LOL.

Sprinkles287: I want to thank you for saying all that. I love hearing people talk about my characters. It gives me a serious thrill, haha, so thanks for that. Plus, you're the first person to call Ty "Ty," so bonus points for that, woohoo!

MissyLovesSneezes: Thank you! I'm so happy! You got your Connor wish, but don't hate Ty. He's not really a mean guy, he's just scared.

Part Three:

TUESDAY.

The ringing was back. Full force, drowning out the voices of his classmates, of his professor. Waves of brutal fire crashed over him, and he clutched the sides of his desk to try to keep the room from tilting. He had to get out of there.

Now. NOW!

He had no time. He was going to lose it, going to…

Ty lurched up from his desk, tripped as his foot caught on the leg of his chair, blinked his eyes madly, trying get the splotches of blackness to go away. He stumbled from the room, trying not to look at all the eyes that shot in his direction as he staggered over a book that someone had left on the floor. He persisted until he reached the door, grabbing the frame for balance as he thrust himself out of the room, trying to make it to the bathroom before his knees gave up on him.

Rows of door swung up on either side of him, swimming up and down, side to side, confusing the hell out of him. The bathroom was supposed to be on the left--the left. Which way was left? He couldn’t do it--wasn’t going to make it…

He teetered over to a bench, saw it rock from side to side like a canoe, didn’t care. Threw himself down. Felt his nose smash into the hard wood, but distantly. The fog had returned to his mind, dulling it, making him vaguely stupid. But he knew he couldn't just lay there forever--what if one of his classmates walked out and saw him?

He had to find the bathroom. He had to. He swallowed a breath, fanned his shirt up and down in an attempt to cool the lake of sweat bogging down his entire frame. On the left, last door in the hall. He craned his neck, saw the door swaying about, hauled himself up, and wobbled toward it, one arm extended, reaching for the handle. He missed on the first go, but on the second his fingers curled around cool metal, and he jerked the door open. He stumbled inside, lunged for the first stall he saw, did a face-plant into the mucky tile.

He dragged himself up enough to close and lock the stall behind him, his hands trembling, his fingers slicked with sweat. His hand traveled down to his pocket, felt for his lighter. He pulled the thing out, flicked it on, off, on, off. He yanked up one leg of his jeans, flipped the lighter on again, touched the flame to his skin, felt the sharp burn cut through the rolling loads of dizziness and nausea.

His shirt was drenched with perspiration, like he’d taken a dive into the ocean, and he was still so hot he couldn’t breathe. He heard the splattering fall of rain as it pounded against the windows, and knew he had to get outside, into the fresh air, into the cool rain. Using the side of the stall for balance, he tripped his way out of the bathroom, down the hall, out the main door, and down the steps to the sodden stone bench sitting directly in front of the building.

He threw himself down onto the bench, tore his shirt off, flung it to the ground, tipped his head back to stare up into the gray sky and try to clear the dark spots impairing his sight. As the world came back into focus, Ty’s self-loathing grew to a new height. He’d always been weak--but never like this, never without at least some reason, however irrational. But now…Jesus, now he couldn’t even sit through a class without freaking out like some kind of nut-job. There was no way he was going to be able to get through the next week of college, let alone the next four years. He’d come so close to melting in front of everyone today. As it was, they’d already figured out there was something wrong with him, what with the way he’d staggered from the class, tripping over things that were ten miles out of his path.

But what was he going to do? Call home to his “mommy” and beg to come home? Yeah, that would seem completely normal. He’d been gone for a week, and already he had to go crawling back to his parents? He didn’t have a fucking clue what to do, not one goddamned clue, and his mind was starting to shut down on him. He’d figure something out later. Maybe if he told Connor about it…but no. Connor would think him a freak if Ty confided in him. He was in this alone.

All alone.

When Connor got out of his third class of the day, he decided he’d swing by the Grille and pick up a burger before heading back to the room. He knew he should probably eat at the restaurant with everyone else, try to socialize, but he just didn’t feel up to it. He was too twitchy, waiting for someone to sneer at him. Callahan must have told at least someone by now, so Connor was on the look-out for unfriendly eyes. It wasn’t like he expected someone to openly bash him, but he didn’t like the thought of people whispering about him behind his back. He wanted to be the one to come out. But he wanted to do it on his own, not with the help of a rude, bad-tempered, back-stabbing wannabe-wino. People would think he was ashamed of who he was if it slipped out that way, and that just wasn’t the case. He was just…awkward. Always had been.

“Damn you, Callahan,” he muttered acidly as he prowled down the brick pathway toward the dining hall. As he rounded a corner of bushes, Bellman Hall came into view, and Connor’s gaze zoned in on the figure curled up on the mossy stone bench. He paused, narrowed his eyes…was that…Callahan? He started walking again, making a beeline for the bench. As he neared, he noted the guy’s lack of shirt, and felt a blush rise up his neck. Then he noticed how the guy's shoulders were shaking, how he had his auburn head hidden behind his jean-clad knees and his long, folded arms.

Connor frowned. What the…? Over the splashing of the rain, he could hear the short gasps of Callahan’s breath, and his mind did a freeze out. This couldn’t be happening. Everything about this situation screamed implausible. And yet Connor found himself sitting beside his roommate, pulling off his sweatshirt, and draping it over the other guy’s bare back and shoulders. His fingers brushed over Callahan’s rain-wet skin, and felt a tingle of heat, like the guy was some kind of furnace. Callahan flinched a little at the contact, and his head came up; moist green eyes pinged Connor’s way, then zipped away again. What looked like tears but could have been rainfall dotted his ashen cheeks. Then the head lowered back to the arms, and Connor was left wondering.

When the shoulder shaking started up once more, Connor scooted a little closer to Callahan, and was shocked when the other guy didn’t immediately move away. Maybe he wasn’t revolted by Connor after all; hell, maybe Connor was so self-centered he hadn’t even considered that his roommate’s distant behavior had had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his roommate.

A small, muffled sound, like a choked-off sob, came from the man beside him, and Connor felt his protectiveness kicking into gear. Without another thought for himself or for the consequences, Connor draped an arm around Callahan’s quaking shoulders. When Callahan leaned into him, Connor nearly gaped, but controlled his expression at the last moment. Now was not the time to be utterly stunned. He tightened his arm around his roommate and, over the fresh scent of rain, caught a whiff of something else, a musky, salty aroma, like sweat. Callahan. For some reason, the smell caused a slight tickle to feather the inside of his nose, and he felt his breath snag.

Connor brought his free hand up to his nose, waiting. The irritation swelled, burst. “Hep’ISHhh! Hhh…Huh’EIISHHhhooo!” Connor shivered a little as the cold rain smashed down onto his bare arms, sending slivers of ice through his skin. Callahan’s right arm came around him suddenly, and he bit back a gasp of surprise. The warmth emitting from his bare skin was incredible and vaguely alarming.

“Are you--”

“Shut up,” Callahan interrupted. Then, more gently, his voice strained as if he were trying hard not to let it crack, “Don’t talk, okay? Please.”

Connor opened his mouth to agree, then shut it. No talking. Right. He could do that. He shut his eyes, drifted closer to the man beside him, wondered what the hell was going on, brushed his confusion aside.

Stay in the now, he told himself. He liked the now. He liked the now a little too much.

He was playing with fire.

--------

Anyone care to change their vote?? Muahahahaa! Sorry. I'll do what you all want. I'm really not that upset. Honestly. Okay, okay, I'll stop! Hey, I asked for it, right? Anyway, love you guys. You're all awesome. Next part soon. Lots of sneezing will ensue. Be prepared.

[princessontheporch]

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I'm loving this more and more. Great writing and great characters. I think the fact that Connor is sneezing makes it more interesting cos it's a little less obvious. And maybe his sneezing will bring down Ty's defences? And you never know, maybe Ty will catch his cold as well! Loving your work!

[Butch]

Scion - How do you update so quickly? Well, whatever the reason, I LOVE this story. I'm refraining from telling you which guy should sneeze, because it just doesn't matter to me! Can't wait for more.

[Zane]

This is really good! I can't wait for more. and especially more sneezyness........

haha thanks so much for writing this.

[Scion]

Princessontheporch: You honestly can have no idea how happy your comment made me. Seriously. Hearing you talk about my characters like that is just the best thing EVER! Honestly, your comment made my entire day 100% brighter, and I'm not even exaggerating! Thank so so so so much!

Mims: I have a superspeed ability to write. Haha, actually I'm really a slow writer, but I'm pretty into this story, so I've been working on it a lot. Thanks as ever, and I must say that your comment makes it sound like you DO have a preference that you are refraining from sharing, and you have intrigued me! Now I want to know. It always interests me what people think about my characters.

Zane: Glad you're back and glad you like, and thank YOU for reading and for commenting. It truly makes me:

And moving on....the sneeze-o-meter has gone up quite a bit here, and it will go higher still in future updates, as I try to make the progression realistic, ahaha.

Part Four:

STILL TUESDAY

Ty sank further back in his seat, closed his eyes, and tried to imagine he were somewhere else. Anywhere else. The class had just started, and already his nerves were shot to hell. It can’t happen twice in one day, he tried to reason with himself. Not even you could be that messed up. But this was the worst yet. All the students sat gathered around a large, oval table, the chairs squished up next to each other. Ty didn’t know where to direct his eyes, so he kept them focused on the brown tabletop.

“Hey.”

Ty swiveled his head an inch to the right, saw the brunette staring at him from dark, probing eyes. He didn’t like the look of those eyes, felt like they could see right through to his core. He darted a fast glance at Connor, who was sitting to his left, illogically hoping the guy could somehow save him from what he knew was to come.

“Hey,” he returned dismissively, not looking at the girl, wishing his professor would hurry the fuck up and get there already before he was forced into some kind of half-assed conversation.

“I’m Lena.” She was still talking, her gaze spearing into the side of Ty’s face.

“Good for you.” Leave me alone, please, just leave me the hell alone.

She laughed. Not at all what he’d been going for. “How can you dismiss me when you haven’t even looked at me yet?”

Very easily, he thought. “Whatever,” he said, and felt yet another set of eyes zoom in on him, this time from the left--Connor’s cobalt blues.

The professor strolled in then, saving Ty from further torture. He let out his breath, tried to keep it from shaking.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Simple. Easy.

“All right, we’re going to start off by discussing our favorite black and white films. Let’s go around the room.” Professor Hudson clicked over the wood floor, pulled out her chair, and settled into it, placing her elbows on the table. “Ally, you want to start us off?”

As Ally started talking, terror shot down Ty’s spine. He fisted his hands on his knees and started in with the foot-tapping. It didn’t help. He dug his right hand into his pocket; the tips of his fingers brushed across the solid form of his lighter. A tiny pulse of reassurance allowed him a tight inhale of breath before the fear returned.

“Huh’PSSHhhooo! Hh’EEeiiSHooo!”

Ty’s gaze dashed to Connor in time to see the other guy’s face do a nosedive into his cupped hands. “Hup’iiSHHoo!”

The asshole sitting on Connor’s other side turned to him and said, “Bless you, man.”

“Thanks,” Connor mumbled, his ears turning pink.

Ty bit down hard on his tongue, attempting to clamp down the baseless anger suddenly roaring inside him. What the hell did he have to be mad about? Who cared if some guy said “bless you” to his roommate?

Jesus, Callahan, you’re going crazier by the minute. Pretty soon you’ll be locked in a padded room.

And maybe that was exactly where he belonged.

Connor was seething, but trying not to let it show, because, as usual, he was being ridiculous. He had no right to be jealous simply because Callahan had dared talk to someone other than him. But, dammit, that girl had managed to pull four perfectly good words from his ever-silent roommate, words Connor wanted for himself.

Sighing, he rubbed his nose and listened with one ear as Ally blabbed on about why she thought all movies should be made in black and white. His eyes started to slide to the right, wanting to get a good look at Callahan. When Connor saw the expression his roommate was wearing, he almost fell right out of his chair. The guy had panic stamped clearly across his bone-white face. Little beads of sweat dripped down his temple, his neck.

Concerned, Connor leaned toward him. “You okay?” he whispered.

Callahan shook his head stiffly, swiping his palms up and down his thighs. His eyes were enormous, his pupils dilated, only a thin ring of green visible in a sea of black.

Surprised at the admission, however silent, Connor whispered, “What’s wrong?”

His left hand flexed against his knee, fingers biting into skin. He shook his head in one, jerky motion. “C-can’t,” he stammered in a rasp. His head turned in Connor’s direction, but his eyes remained fixated on his lap. His mouth worked as if he were trying to speak, but nothing came out, and he grasped onto the rim of the table with white-knuckled force, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Jesus,” Connor gasped, feeling slow and useless. He turned, tried to catch Professor Hudson’s eye, but she was looking in the complete other direction, oblivious. He aimed his gaze back at his roommate, who was now a sickly gray color. Panic ricocheted inside his ribs. “What can I do?” he whispered feebly. “Do you need an ambulance?”

Callahan’s eyes flipped open in horror. “No!” he spat, lunging unsteadily to his feet. He staggered a bit, tripping over the leg of his chair, then Connor’s chair, as he lurched toward the door, moving like a man completely wasted.

“Tyler, where are you going!?” Hudson snapped, finally aware of the disturbance. When Callahan didn’t reply, only stumbled out the door, she snapped, “Lena, will you go see what he thinks he’s doing!?”

“I’ll go!” Connor blurted without thinking.

“Fine,” Hudson cracked, shooing him with a careless hand gesture. “Go, quickly.”

Connor went. When he reached the hall, he glanced about, searching for Callahan. When he saw no sign of him, he exited the building, still looking all around, and headed for their dorm room. His nose was running, and he kept having to sniff to keep from dripping all over himself. Now, in the cold, it grew worse, and his nose started to prickle. He scrubbed at it, trying to get the damn thing to behave.

By the time he’d reached their dorm and had climbed the steps to the second floor, the itch had returned with a vengeance. It scraped at him until he could no longer hold back. Outside the door to his room, he paused, leaned both hands against the wall, dropped his head low. “Huhh…hhh…EIIiiisSHHAHhh! Heh’UPPCShhooo!” he sneezed toward the floor. After a watery sniff, he straightened up and reached for the door knob; it turned with his touch.

The sight that greeted him nearly made his knees give way.

Callahan was standing in the center of the room, his back to Connor; in his right hand he gripped a lighter, which he kept flicking on and off, on and off. As Connor stared, he realized what his roommate was about. He wasn’t a smoker. He was some kind of pyromaniac, and he was about to set their room on fire.

Christ. When Connor had mused that he was playing with fire, he hadn’t realized just how right he’d been.

He was playing with fire, all right--only this fire wasn’t figurative.

It was literal.

“Are you fucking crazy!?” Connor bellowed before he could stop himself.

Callahan swung around, the lighter falling from his hand and bouncing off the floor. Connor lunged for it, cupped his hand over it. A sneakered foot came down on his hand, almost crunching bones as it ground from side to side. Connor yelped and instinctively pulled his appendage to safety. Callahan’s arm snaked down, and he’d scooped up the lighter and pocketed it before Connor could even blink.

“DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Callahan screamed, panting, face the color of glue, hands shaking, eyes snapping green flames of hatred and accusation even as he refused to meet Connor’s stare.

“I’m reporting you to campus security,” Connor announced, getting to his feet and slowly backing toward the door, as if he were face to face with a wild beast--and maybe he was. “You need help, man.” Despite the alarm bells going off inside his head, he still felt some kind of strange need to protect Callahan, to shelter him from…something.

The trembling in the other guy’s hands spread to encompass his entire six-foot frame. He was shaking with so much power, his teeth kept clicking together, sounding like ice cubes colliding in a glass of soda. “F-fuck you,” he stuttered raggedly. “You d-don’t know anything.”

“I know you need help,” Connor reasoned cautiously, not wanting to set his roommate off again. Epic Fail.

“I DON’T NEED ANY FUCKIN’ HELP, ASSHOLE! THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! NOTHING!!!” Gasping, he reached for the nearest object, which happened to be Connor’s eight-hundred dollar laptop, and chucked the thing against the wall, where it crashed and cracked into two halves as it crumpled to the floor in a heap of brokenness.

Connor went still, a chill seeping though his blood. He shuddered. “That was my laptop,” he said flatly. “You just broke my laptop.”

All the anger seemed to drain out of Callahan’s face then, and he swayed a little before regaining his balance. He walked to his bed and fell onto it. He buried himself under the blankets and curled into a ball.

Connor stood there for a minute, unblinking, trying to gather his wits. When he’d finally recuperated enough brain activity to function on a basic level, he turned, flung open the door, and slammed the thing behind him. In the hall, he passed that Lena girl from class.

“Hudson sent me to check on you when you didn’t come back,” she confided, stopping to lean against the wall and stare up at him worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

Connor shook his head. “Callahan’s sick,” he said truthfully. “He won’t be coming back to--heh--to class.” Hurriedly, he lifted his hand to his face as his breath grew uneven. “Hhh’EPPSHhHhaaa! Hup’Shhhewww! Excuse me,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Bless you!” she exclaimed earnestly. “You sound pretty sick yourself. Maybe you should skip class, too.” She winked, quirked a dark brow. She was pretty, Connor thought grudgingly, and she looked like just the type of girl Callahan would go for.

But what was he thinking? After the display he’d just seen, how could he possibly still be harboring anything other than pity for his soon-to-be ex-roommate?

Connor cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Nah, I’m fine,” he said. “Thanks, though. Thank you. Huh’EESHHHhhooo!” A final, unexpected sneeze slipped out before he could cover up, and he just managed to jerk his head a little to the side before letting loose. “Heh’PIiSsHHHUuuu!”

“Bless you, bless you,” Lena burbled, grinning widely. “You’re cute when you’re all embarrassed and flustered,” she added, shaking her head.

Connor’s jaw flopped open. “Uhh…” he said intelligently.

She giggled. “Exactly. Come on.” She patted him companionably on the back. “Let’s get back to class before Hudson sends out reinforcements.”

---------

So, what are we thinking? Good still? Also, do you all have any idea what's wrong with Ty, LOL? Just wondering. I'll go into it more, of course, but I don't want go into too much detail if you've already got it all figured out. Plus, I just wanna see you talk about my characters, haha. My ulterior motive is revealed. Sorry if I'm being annoying, ahaha, feel free to ignore me and just read the story. And enjoy the sneezes, which will increase in numbers soon. Just saying. It's not a bribe, I swear. Okay, I'm done rambling.

Fixed ulterior for you ;] ~obsessed

[27jj]

Connor brought his free hand up to his nose, waiting. The irritation swelled, burst. “Hep’ISHhh! Hhh…Huh’EIISHHhhooo!” Connor shivered a little as the cold rain smashed down onto his bare arms, sending slivers of ice through his skin.

I love that part I’m liking this story a lot so far:)

[Coffee Mug]

This is getting so interesting I don't want to go back to work but just sit here and wait to read the rest

I don't know why but I feel more sympathy for Connor, trying to understand what's going on, to help Ty and at the same time there's this cold bugging him but doesn't have time to deal with it. So cute!

On the other hand, I'm really curious to know what's wrong with Ty. I'm worried and want him to feel better! although I don't have a clue on what his problem could be

[LetMeBe]

I would just like to say that freakin love how absolutely certifiably MAD Ty is and I kind of don't care if he ever gets better! hahahahah. Also, Connor being a sneezy mess amidst all of this is also Awesome! Poor Lena...she has no idea what she was getting into talking to either of them.

[Butch]

Scion - Yay for the update! Such a great story. You're a great writer. I love how you write sneezes, too. I don't know what Ty's deal is yet..but I can't wait to find out.

[princessontheporch]

Aw I'm glad you liked my comment so much! I have to say I am becoming more and more obsessed with this story, it's so intriguing! Can't wait for the next part! Am developing a bit of a crush on Connor I have to admit.

[Aprilcot]

I like this more than any other story you've done!!!!!!!!!

Please continue!!!!!!!!!!!

[Scion]

27jaredjensen: Thank you so much! I love that you took the time to point out a part you really liked. There's nothing I love more than knowing exactly which part people like the best, so I have to say thank you twice. Or more than that. Thank you thank you thank you!

MissyLovesSneezes: Ohh, I love knowing these little details. Seeing you talk about my characters is the most fun thing in the world, and your comment made my entire week--no, my entire month, brighter. I can't express how much it means to me. I really can't. I feel bad for Connor, too. And I'm glad you're worried about Ty, haha. I am too.

LetMeBe: LOL, I know, right!?!? Ty is such a fun character to write. I love crazy characters. And yes, poor Lena. If only she knew. Also, thank you sooooooooooooo much for saying all that you did. As I've said a million times by now, having you all express your opinions on my characters is the best thing EVER. There's nothing that can compete with it. So thank you tons.

Mims: More and more thanks to you! That Ty! So mysterious, LOL.

Princessontheporch: Ohh, yay! I love creating characters for people to crush on! And I love creating stories for people to obsess over, LOL!!!!! Thank you so much for your compliments. Again, I'm freaking over the moon about them!

Aprilcot: Ohh, awesome! I'm so glad you feel that way. I do, too, by the way, ahaha.

Here we go with more. I'm becoming a little obsessed with this story, so it might go on for awhile. Hope you all don't mind. I'm going to torture my poor guys for bit longer, though. I have to.

Part Five:

TUESDAY NIGHT

Ty wished he were someone else. Anyone else. He was way past tired of the fear that came with every day, that made him do crazy things and say crazy things and generally act like a goddamned crazy person. He'd freaked the shit out of his roommate, who now thought he was some kind of lunatic (which he probably was). On top of that, he’d murdered the guy’s laptop for no reason other than the fact that Connor had pegged him completely.

He was crazy.

He did need help.

But he could only admit that to himself. It was private, his one advantage over all the people who could never understand him. It would be easy to simply write him off as a wacko and throw him in a mental institution. Too easy.

He curled even closer in on himself, checking to make sure the blankets covered him completely. He couldn’t bear to face Connor after what he’d done, how he’d acted. But the thought of Connor hating him made his stomach burn and his eyes water. His roommate had been the one person who hadn’t looked at him as if he were an alien from outer-space--and Ty had had to go and ruin that.

Once again, he was alone.

Connor stood outside the door to his room, eyes closed, preparing himself. He’d stayed away as long as he possibly could, but now it was past 11:00 PM, and he had nowhere else to go. Still, he didn’t think he was ready to face Ty quite yet. He didn’t know what he’d say or do. And he certainly didn’t want to have to see the pitiful remains of his laptop. Jesus. How was he supposed to do any of his homework now? Spend all his time in the library?

Bracing himself for just about anything, Connor pushed open the door and stepped inside--into darkness. The lump under the covers told him Callahan probably hadn’t moved an inch since Connor had stormed out that afternoon. He wasn’t certain if that were good news or bad news. On the one hand, it meant Ty hadn’t gone on a fire-setting rampage. On the other, it meant…well, Connor didn’t know what it meant, but he knew it wasn’t good.

Unsure of what to do, he plunked down on the side of his bed and stared at the lump that was Ty Callahan. When his mind failed to come up with a plan of action, his nose took over. “Hehh…” He tilted his head back a little as the tingle spread, intensified. When the feeling peaked, he dipped his head down into his open hand. “Hh’UPSHhooo!” After a long sniff, he went back to staring at Callahan.

--------

WEDNESDAY

Ty was starving. He hadn’t eaten since Tuesday morning, and now it was late Wednesday afternoon. His stomach ached fiercely, and his head felt as if it were filled with cotton. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow.

He shifted on the bed, threw back the covers, swung his feet to the floor. When he stood, he closed his eyes for a minute to keep the room from spinning. It didn’t help much, but he managed to make it out the door and into the hall without falling over, so he figured he was doing fine. He kept his head low, his eyes focused on the ground as he walked the path toward the dining hall. He planned to just go in and out. He wouldn’t have to speak to anyone. Just grab a sandwich, pay, and be gone.

Easy. Simple.

He could do this.

But by the time he reached the C-store and was browsing the sandwich selection, the ringing had started up in his ears. The feeling of disassociation came next as he snatched whatever sandwich his hand landed on; he didn’t bother looking. He was past that, now. Past caring. Past being able to care.

He moved to the line, felt the bodies pressing in around him, felt the eyes searing his skin as people waited to judge him, to find him guilty of absurdity. He clutched the sandwich until it was nothing but mush beneath his fist.

“Hey. Ty, right? Remember me? Lena?”

Ty flinched. No, no, no. This wasn’t part of the plan. No one was supposed to talk to him. He grunted something unintelligible as the ringing in his ears increased in pitch.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey, Ty? Anyone home?”

His gaze flicked up to her face for an instant, then dropped back to the floor. “What do you want?” he managed, surprising himself with his coherence.

She moved closer, invading his space. Her peppermint breath wafted to his nose as she said, “Are you feeling better? Connor told me you weren’t feeling well yesterday.”

Fuck. Why did she insist on talking to him? There were at least a hundred other guys in the store right now for her to pester, so why did she have to choose him? He was going to lose it. He had no doubt. He felt it starting, felt his will slipping.

The shadows came, filtering his sight as the room pitched around him, as an ache began in his neck, then mushroomed up into his skull. He was going to pass out. Right here. Like the fucking freak he was.

“Hep’IIiiSHHhhoo!”

Ty’s head whipped around, his eyes finding Connor’s spiky raven hair. A trickle of relief washed down his spine, thorough, but temporary. As soon as the reprieve had come, it vanished, and Ty was once again left on his own to battle against the fear that was clawing at the inside of his brain, making him mad with dread.

“Hii’IIiieessSHHOO! Huh’Pshhheeew!”

The sandwich slipped from Ty’s numb hand and splatted to the floor. Lena was still talking at him, but he couldn’t make out the words. All he knew was that he had to get to Connor--had to get to Connor before…

Connor rubbed his nose again, trying to get the rising tickle to leave him be, but with no luck. He’d been sneezing all day, and it didn’t look as if he’d be stopping any time soon. “Hehh…” As his eyes squinted in preparation for the sneeze, they caught a flash of auburn. Connor craned his neck and…yes, Callahan was standing near the front of the line, head down as usual. So the guy had finally decided to get out of bed. Good thing, too, because Connor had been about to burst with uncertainty and helplessness. He didn’t know what to do about his mad roommate or his mad roommate’s pyromania tendencies. The itch magnified suddenly, and Connor rushed to cover the explosion in time. “IPppShhoo!”

He thought he heard someone say “bless you,” but he was too busy gaping at Callahan, who had turned to face him. The guy had that look again, the one that said, “Holy God, I’m about to die and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.” Connor watched, dumbfounded, as his roommate took a staggering step toward him, one arm outstretched, his mouth moving soundlessly, his eyes wide with terror, a mask of sweat covering his entire visage. For whatever reason, no one else seemed to even notice. That Lena girl directed a confused glance at Callahan’s back, but that was about it. Everyone else was blissfully oblivious.

Ty reached out toward Connor, trying to grab hold of the guy before he went down and cracked his head open on the floor. He opened his mouth and tried to say Connor’s name, but all that came out was a pitiful rasp, like the crunch of paper. He stumbled another step closer to his salvation. Connor’s bright white sneakers rocked from side to side, then swayed up and down, up and down. Then they seemed to move closer, closer. Ty’s vision narrowed to tiny pinpricks of dulled color. He could just make out the cobalt of Connor’s eyes, and he reached out, fingers flexing, wanting to curl into the fabric of Connor’s shirt.

Before everything went black, Ty managed to croak out one single, tortured word.

“Connor.”

--------

There you go. A nice cliffhanger. Hope you don't mind! I promise I won't make you wait too long. And feel free to tell me how much you hate or love or want to punch or want to hug a character, because I have become addicted to your awesome opinions. Please? I'll be happy forever if you do!

[Butch]

Scion - OOOH a cliffhanger! Fantastic, but it leaves me wanting more..I guess that's the whole point, right?

I love BOTH characters in this story.. and like I've said before, your writing TOTALLY sucks me in. Connor is ADORABLE, and Ty.. I can't figure him out yet, but his character intrigues me, definitely. Can't wait to read more.

[Ker0kero]

Ty is an interesting character...and he curses more than anyone else I know..! Keep it up!

[Infernal]

Oh my, I do LOVE Callahan. I love how much of a snide bastard he is. I'm jumping on the "hoping he gets sick" bandwagon. His "thing" seems to be some sort of extreme social anxiety, from what I can gather. I could be completely wrong, though.

[Scion]

Mims: Yep! I live to torture you all!!!! Haha, but seriously, I'm so ecstatic you love both my boys. I do, too. Thank you sooooooooo much for being generous and feeding my ego, which, since I've started posting here, has grown quite a bit.

Ker0kero: Thanks. I think Ty's pretty interesting as well, LOL. But, I must admit that I myself curse far more often than Ty does, haahaha. I'm a bad person.

Gee: WOOO! I adore Ty! And I'm so thrilled that you do, too! I like a little snide every now and again. And you're not completely wrong. It definitely is something along those lines! It's not quite social anxiety, but social anxiety does play a major role in it. It's basically half of what's wrong with my poor boy. Anyway, thank you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much. You're spoiling me with your talk about my beloved character!

So, we get a little bit of sap, but, of course, because I'm , this happyhappyjoyjoy can't last for too long. Must...torture...my...Ty...and...Connor...!

Part Six:

Connor saw the moment it happened, the moment Callahan’s knees turned to jelly. Instinctively, he moved forward and caught the guy as he would have gone down.

“Connor,” Callahan rasped, before going completely limp. Connor wrapped both arms around his roommate, supporting him. The guy’s head lolled forward onto Connor’s shoulder, and Connor closed his eyes in pure relief as he felt the soft puff of breath escaping the guy’s colorless lips.

Connor was about to shout for someone to call an ambulance, when he heard Callahan whisper something into his neck. He tilted his ear down lower and said, “What?”

The barest wisp of air, and, “Don’t…tell…please…” Callahan’s eyelids fluttered slightly, but remained closed.

Frowning, Connor shook his head. “I have to--”

The hand clutching his shirt tightened. “Please, Connor.” It was the desperation, the pleading, in his roommate’s voice that finally decided him.

“All right,” Connor muttered stiffly. “All right, I won’t. Just…don’t die on me, okay?”

Callahan’s white lips curled the smallest of amounts, and he let out a weak sigh of ascent. A moment later, some of his weight was removed from Connor as he tried to stand. As he wavered, Connor surreptitiously slid an arm around his shoulders.

“Lean on me,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Callahan complied, and the two began moving cumbersomely through the store. People circled all around them, but not a single pair of eyes glanced their way.

When Connor felt the telltale tickle start up, he cursed. He had always had the best damn timing. He locked his arm more securely around his roommate’s broad shoulders, for once grateful for the fact that he was six foot four and could support the guy without ass-planting them both. “Ihhh…” He wiggled his nose around, attempting to alleviate the itch. It helped not at all. “Uhh…” It was Callahan’s hair feathering the tip of Connor’s nose that pushed him over the edge. He twisted his head away from his roommate, and sneezed freely into the air. “Hii’PPppSHHhaaah! EEeeiiISHOOoo!”

When they at last made it outside, Callahan’s croaking whisper had Connor pausing to be able to hear the faintly spoken words. “Need…to sit down.”

Moving on autopilot, Connor helped his roommate to a wooden bench located between a mass of bushes. Callahan dropped bonelessly onto it, and Connor sat beside him, not liking the sickly pallor of the guy’s skin. His usually light freckles stood out starkly against the paper-white of his nose, and the red streaks in his hair seemed brighter under the light-fall of the lamppost. Unexpectedly, Callahan sagged against him, his back to Connor’s right side, his head falling heavily onto Connor’s shoulder as he drew in shaky breaths through his nose.

Without realizing he was doing it, Connor began to rub circles over the other man’s slumped back. The fabric of Callahan’s shirt was soaked through with sweat, but Connor hardly noticed, too focused on the proximity of his roommate. He tilted his chin closer to the top of the auburn head resting against his shoulder. “Better?” he whispered.

Callahan nodded, though his entire body had started to tremble even as more sweat dampened the back of his neck. “Just need…a minute,” he huffed.

“Okay,” Connor agreed softly, resting his cheek on the top of Callahan’s head. “I’ve got you. We have time.”

“Mmm,” Callahan muttered hazily.

“Hh’Nxxhht!” Connor stifled the unexpected burst into his left shoulder, not wanting to sneeze all over the other guy.

Callahan’s fiery palm landed on Connor’s knee. “Don’t,” he mumbled.

Perplexed, Connor asked, “Don’t what?”

He cleared his throat, and the task sounded painful. “I like your sneeze,” he breathed, the words barely distinguishable. “I can tell it’s you.”

Connor’s jaw hit the floor. Had he heard right? Maybe he needed to get his hearing checked, because he could have sworn… “Did you just say…you like my sneeze?”

Callahan went rigid and made to pull away, but Connor, feeling bolder than usual, held him back. “I don’t want you to go,” he told his roommate. “I just want you to answer my question.”

Silence.

“Callahan?”

“Ty.”

“What?”

“My name,” he said impatiently, going rigid all over again. “It’s Ty.”

“Okay,” Connor said agreeably, hesitantly moving his hand to the back of Calla--Ty’s neck and rubbing gently. “Ty.” He had no idea where his roommate’s sudden declaration had come from, but he was glad for it all the same.

Ty released another sigh, this one sounding contended, as he tipped his head forward to allow Connor better access to his neck. Connor increased the pressure, molding his hands around Ty’s lower neck and shoulders, kneading the taught muscles. When his breath started in on the hitching, he shook his head, annoyed with himself for being sick at such an inopportune time. Then Ty’s words flooded back to him.

I like your sneeze. I can tell it’s you.

And Connor suddenly lost most of his self-consciousness. If his closed-mouthed roommate could reveal something as private as that, Connor could damn well sneeze unhindered by his ever-present awkwardness…couldn’t he?

Still working Ty’s neck, Connor allowed his breath to quiver, his eyelids to droop, his brow to furrow, as the light sensation strengthened almost to the point of pain. Then he turned his head a little to the left and, both hands still on his roommate’s hot skin, “Hhh…Hiih…Hup’IIiiSSHhh! IiiESHHaahh!” His body lurched forward a little with each eruption, his entire right side pressed up against the heat of Ty’s hard back as his fingers flexed around the base of Ty’s throat.

In the next instant, as Connor’s breath wound up for round two, Ty twisted his entire body to the left until they were chest-to-chest, Ty’s moist forehead landing on the sharp curve between Connor’s neck and shoulder. Connor placed a tentative hand to the small of Ty’s back, feeling his own nostrils flare. When the sneezes came, he let them, turning only slightly to the side. “Uhh…Huh’PttcSHOOoo! TchSHOO!”

“Connor?”

The sound of Lena’s voice had Connor jerking away from Ty so fast, the other man went sprawling backward onto the ground, his head smacking against the brick path.

“Christ,” Connor hissed as Lena came closer, questions written all over her delicate features. He stood, made to help his roommate up. “Ty, I--”

Ty scuttled back from him like a crab, his brows drawn together in a mix of anger, confusion, and, worst of all, hurt. “N-no. Don’t t-touch me,” he stammered, his face flaring red, then white.

Dammit, Connor thought, hating himself. Could he possibly have messed things up any worse? “Ty, please--”

“Connor? You okay?” Lena was right there, now, shifting her alarmed stare between the two guys, her brown eyes big and full of a concern that Connor neither wanted nor needed.

“I’m fine,” Connor snapped, watching in pained regret as Ty lunged unstably to his feet. “I, uh…” He stopped short as Ty turned and began walking away, weaving slightly from side to side, both arms held out as if for balance.

“Is he…drunk or something?” Lena wanted to know. She stepped up close to Connor, both brows arched, her lips a tight slash.

Connor shook his head. “No, he’s--he’s--huhh…Hup’EISHhhoo!” He took a few strides in Ty’s wake, struggling to come up with some semi-plausible excuse and coming up utterly blank. “I have to go, okay? I’m really sorry.” He fled, throwing a quick wave and fake smile over his shoulder as she shouted back a dejected “see you later, then.”

Connor would have felt like a complete ass for running off on her like that, if only his mind had been able to process a single thought other than: you idiot! How could you let that happen!? Ty is never going to forgive you for this.

-------

Now I eagerly await more of your fantastic comments so I can continue to be elated and provide you with more Ty, Connor, and sneezes. Blackmailer? Who, me? Of course not! I'm just a simple writer, soaking up the praise of all you lovelies and dying to know everything that's on your mind.