Vincent walked back towards his house slowly. The cool air blew against him, as if taunting him, pushing him teasingly. The leaves in the trees whispered among themselves, watching him go by.

Now that he thought of it, he remembered Scott mentioning his allergy to flowers, and telling him that roses caused the worst reaction in him.

Vincent cringed and mentally kicked himself. Nice going, Vin.

He looked down at the woody stalks he held in his hand, a reminder of the sudden violence that Scott had reacted with. He wasn't sure why he'd carried them all this way. He chucked them onto the grass beside the pathway.

It had been one hell of a surprise. One second, Scott's beautiful smile was painted on his face. He seemed so touched by the gesture. He'd even leaned forward and smelt the flowers, even though he  knew he'd have an allergic reaction.

Next minute, the smile was gone, the warmth in his eyes had disappeared, and Vincent's nose had almost been broken by the door slamming shut only millimetres away.

Then the screaming. All that screaming.

Scott had a point. Well, he had several points. Several loud and angry points. But points nonetheless.

It was pretty stupid of Vincent to expect that Scott would be all smiles and that the heartbreak he no doubt was coping with would just melt away in an instant. It was stupid of Vincent not to have checked with Mike first if Scott had any allergies.

It was stupid for Vincent to have gone at all, and he wasn't quite sure what had had inspired the impromptu trip.

He turned onto the street that he lived on and sighed. Somehow, it had been worth it. Maybe now that Scott had got all of his anger out, things would return to normal.

He imagined again the soft smile Scott had given him, even if just for a moment.

It was worth it.

--

Scott walked over to the fridge, opened the door and pulled out the anti-histamines.

Then he sneezed. Violently. His head jerked with the force of it, and his hair flopped over into his watering eyes.

Brushing his fringe out of his face, he grabbed a teaspoon and poured the soupy pink liquid onto it. He tried to check to see if it was the right amount, but his eyes were so bleary he couldn't see a thing. He poured the medicine onto his tongue, and almost sneezed it out again. Luckily, he managed to keep the liquid in his mouth, and he swallowed it quickly.

 Uugh. He felt sick. Roses always made him feel sick. The rose buds were still lying at his door, and he assumed he should get rid of them before he went into anaphylactic shock or something, but he wanted to wait until the medicine kicked in first.

For now, he found his way to the couch and flopped on it, groaning loudly into the pillow, followed by a mumbled, "Stupid Vincent."

His phone buzzed on the table in front of him.

Scott ignored it.

The phone buzzed again. He groaned again and reached out for it, swiping to answer.

"Vincent, for goodness' sakes, if you're trying to apologise again, I'll fuc-"

"Scott!" It wasn't Vincent's voice on the other end of the phone. This voice was slightly congested, higher pitched and a little nasally.

"Oh. Fritz."

"Hey, Scott."

"What's the call for? I'm kind of - wait a sec," Scott pulled the phone away from his face and sneezed again, twice. "Busy. Screw Vincent and his roses."

"I just wanted to..." Fritz trailed off, "Um, yeah, you know what? Never mind it."

"No, no," Scott said hurriedly, intrigued by what Fritz had meant to say. "What is it?"

"I, uh... Oh, boy... I just wanted to tell you that it was alright. The whole... The whole gay thing. But, uh, I can see you're, uh, still not so happy about it - um, I'm just gonna go..."

"Wait, Fritz. It's okay. Thanks for calling up. That was good of you," Scott said. "I'm glad you don't mind. I'm sorry I didn't have the guts to tell you myself."

"Uh, yeah, about that... I, uh... Oh, boy..." Fritz took a deep breath,  "I kind of... already knew..."

"What?" Scott asked, feeling himself go tense. "How... How did you-"

"W-Well, I... Oh boy, oh boy," Fritz repeated his little catchphrase a few times as he struggled for words. "You know that night you asked Vincent to stay behind with you?"

"Yeah...?" Scott practically squeaked.

"Well, the next morning, I was on opening duty and I was fixing the tablet and it flicked back to the night before an-and, I heard your conversation with him, h-how you asked not to talk about what happened between you two and how you had your doubts a-and I... I saw you hug him and- I didn't mean to look, I promise!" Fritz spoke in one long sentence, his words melding together slightly.

Scott took a deep breath. He didn't know why this bothered him so much. Vincent had told everyone, anyway, so what was the big deal if Fritz found out a day or two beforehand?

The answer to his own question floated into his mind. He felt out of control. It was like he couldn't even decide who he came out to anymore, couldn't decide who got to see his personal affairs. It was bad enough with Mike, now Fritz, too, had been accidentally spying on his private life?

"Scott?" Fritz's nasally voice interrupted his thoughts. "You're not mad at me, right?"

"I'm mad at myself," Scott admitted. "For a lot of things. For not having the confidence to accept who I am. For giving myself away."

Fritz gave a loud sigh of relief, "Thank goodness. I mean- Don't be mad at yourself, Scott."

Scott rolled his eyes, which were finally clearing. "Thanks, Fritz."

"Okay. Goodnight, Scott."

"Night, Fritz."

Fritz hung up and Scott carelessly threw his phone on the other end of the couch.

Who else had he come out to without meaning to?

((I'm sorry if the last few chapters have been boring. I promise I'll get back to more important story soon, I just don't want it moving too fast and finishing too fast. As always, thank for reading.))