transitive verb

       • to contaminate; to infect.

intransitive verb

       • to be corrupted or disgraced.

noun

       • a stain; corruption.

Troye sees Connor before Connor sees him. The older of the two is standing nervously by their fountain, two steaming cups of coffee in hand and a searching look of desperation on his face as he scans the moving crowd. He's in a long dark coat and jeans, usually pristinely styled hair tousled messily by the November breeze as snow speckles across his tense shoulders.

Troye doesn't approach, not right away. He stands across the street, blending into a crowd of angsty teenagers on their way to a mid-day concert with the over-sized hoodie he borrowed from Dan and his mud-soaked black sneakers. He's got his hands in his pockets, gnawing on his bottom lip as he debates whether to go talk to the guy or not.

He waits a little longer, watching the average citizen skirt wide circles around him like he's a cockroach they're too grossed out to stomp on. It makes his face twist, his gut clench, his hands ball into angry fists of self-righteous rage and release into limp hangings of practiced resignation. It shouldn't really bother him, not when it's the only kind of reaction he's ever really received from them.

Still, he's starting to feel the way he did back in Connor's apartment. A stain soaking through everything nice, a blemish in the perfect fabrics of this small corner of the universe, a tiny speck of dirt not worth anything but a bottle of acidic cleaner fluid to wash him venomously away.

He shakes it off, Dan's words replaying through his head. The stupid asshole tends to make a lot of sense, sometimes. Sometimes. Other times he's just a crazy dope-smoking sociopath with a tendency to let Troye steal his clothes without asking.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, Troye's shoes make quiet sounds of encroaching war drums as they beat against the snow-coated street. He sucks in the cold with greedy gulps to fend off the anxious burn in his chest, his dry hands clenching in the folds of Dan's sweater.

Connor looks up just as he stops walking, black sneakers four feet away from brown boots.