Scott kissed Mike like he'd never kissed anyone before - which is a bad analogy, because honestly, he never had kissed anyone before. He kissed him with all the passion he was withholding for Vincent. He convinced himself that this was the way it was supposed to be, Scott and Mike, but his eyes betrayed him.

Scott's eyes were open, and trained on Vincent.

Vincent was standing at the bottom of the porch, looking as stiff as a statue, his eyes burning with a fierce jealousy and longing, and a great deal of hatred that was no-doubt for Mike.

Scott felt a surge of satisfaction, stronger than anything else, knowing he'd made Vincent jealous.

He felt hands on his chest, and then Mike was pressing against him, trying to get him to pull away.

Scott pulled away slowly, panting. Looking at Mike, he said, "Will you go out with me sometime?"

There was something in Mike's eyes that Scott didn't quite like, almost as if he could see straight through him, "Sure, I'll go out with you, Scott."

Scott grinned happily, then stepped back away from Mike so he could get through.

Mike walked off of the porch and past Vincent without even looking back. Vincent stayed staring at Scott for a long time, looking almost hurt, and then he turned around and followed after Mike.

Scott stared after them for a while, a conflict of emotions inside him. Mike had agreed to go out with him, so, why wasn't he overjoyed?

Sighing, he blamed it on his hangover, and walked back inside.

--

Vincent caught up to Mike, and they walked alongside each other silently. Vincent glared ahead, his jaw set, and Mike just stared at the ground awkwardly. The tension rose between them until it was unavoidable.

"He didn't mean it," Mike said at last.

"What do you mean 'he didn't mean it'?" Vincent growled, "You couldn't have peeled him off you with a crowbar."

"He was looking at you the whole time," Mike said.

"So?" Vincent spat, kicking the ground, "He was kissing you, not me."

"He's not in love with me, Vincent," Mike said.

Vincent glared at the ground, "Well, he's obviously got a crush on you."

"Nah," Mike stuck his hands in his pockets, and then looked sideways slyly at Vincent, "Why do you care, anyway? You're not... falling in love with him, are you?~"

Vincent laughed, "What, with that midget? Nope. You can have him."

Mike grinned and faced the front again, "Well then, I guess I'll just ask him to be my boyfriend. You wouldn't mind that, now, would you, Vincent?"

Vincent felt like a rather large stone had been dropped into his stomach, but he grinned, "No, no, not at all." The grin was gone as fast as it was there, Vincent went back to glaring at his feet, "He's probably an awful kisser anyway."

"Tastes amazing, though," Mike said, "And he's not actually half bad, if that was any indication. My lips are still buzzing, to be honest."

Vincent tensed more and more with every word out of Mike's mouth, "Shut up," he growled, "I don't want to hear it."

Mike chuckled again, with a smug grin that made Vincent want to smash his skull in, "I'll see you at work, Vincent," he said. "Later, loser."

Vincent glared at him, then headed off towards his own house. He swung the unlocked door open and slammed it shut behind him. It slammed so hard than the glass in the window pane shuddered with the force.

He couldn't get the image out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried. The way Scott had just kissed Mike like that. He'd seemed so sincere, so passionate. Vincent's mind wandered down another path, replacing Mike with himself now, almost able to feel Scott's lips against his own, hear him breathing his name as they kissed, hear him groaning softly as Vincent's tongue explored his mouth. It made his heart pound in his chest. A lot of people seem to think that murderers don't and can't have hearts. Of course they have hearts. They're just normal people, after all. Normal people with a sick addiction.

"Bad men do what good men wish they could do." That was the old quote. Who had said it, Vincent couldn't remember, but he remembered the quote alright.

Vincent sighed,  lying back on his couch, trying to stop thinking, because Scott was no longer kissing him in his mind, he was backing away, looking terrified, bleeding from wounds which only Vincent's knife could have made.

Vincent sighed again. He'd never felt like this when losing someone before. Fine, if they figured out  that he was only looking for a - erm, one night relationship - then it was a shame that they'd escaped him, but there was something different this time. It was like he was genuinely disappointed, seriously upset that Scott wasn't lying in his arms at this moment.

Vincent groaned and spoke aloud to nobody in particular, "I'm completely and utterly infatuated with him."

--

[12:31 PM] 0443678555: woah, woah, slow down, amado.

[12:31 PM] Scott Desede el Club: I'm just saying, do you think I might have rushed in a little bit? Gone a little too far?

[12:32 PM] 0443678555: I dont know, hombre. Youre telling me you kissed the guy?  maybe is no such a bad thing? According to you, the other guy was a bit of a estupido burro.

[12:33 PM] Scott Desede el Club: Am I going to have to buy a Spanish dictionary?

[12:34 PM] 0443678555: Anoche soñé contigo y esta manana no me quiero despertar .

[12:35 PM] Scott Desede el Club: Are you flirting with me in Spanish?

[12:35 PM] 0443678555: my english is no so good. plus, there are so many more ways for me to say what I mean in my home language, ah?  Te necesito . Quiero hacerte el amor. Te enviare al cielo. ~<3

[12:36 PM] Scott Desede el Club: Oh my goodness.

[12:37 PM] 0443678555: Jajaja ;) I think you should ride it out with this new guy, ah? Maybe is no so bad as you think. As long as you find a place in your heart for me, yes?

[12:38 PM] Scott Desede el Club: You are not helping.

[12:39 PM] 0443678555: porque no puedo dejar de pensar en ti, mi amor. My final advice to you is despues de los años mil, todos vamos a estar muerto de todos modos . No dejes para mañana lo que puedas hacer hoy. Give it a shot, ah?  la electrónica están destinados a romper bajo la lluvia. móviles, micrófonos ... simplemente no se mezclan.

[12:40 PM] Scott Desede el Club: Salto en un agujero

[12:41 PM] 0443678555: Jajaja. Para usted, mi querido? Voy a.

((I AM GOING TO BE HONEST HERE:

That conversation had no purpose other than Oliver is so much fun to write and I wanted to torture you all with Spanish. I know you can't copy/paste off of these books for plagiarism and etc, so if you actually translate this all... I am so, so, so, so, so impressed. You're amazing. ))