After midnight, first hours of the month...

Mason was having a hard time trying to sleep that night, he'd been so fucking scared. So much for not liking Jet.

If it hadn't been for that doctor, he might have lost his mind.

Jet was just next door, sharing a wall with him. He wished he could see through it, just to make sure he was alright.

Or you could just go over like a fucking normal person.

He couldn't do it for some reason. And the frustration was so much that he decided to go look for something in the kitchen.

It was dark and the house was quiet. Mason didn't make any noises as he made his way down.

Except that when he got closer to the kitchen he could hear very quiet sounds coming from it. He stopped to listen more carefully.

With a few steps forward, Mason understood that the sounds belonged to someone crying as quietly as they could.

He immediately panicked and went ahead to find out who it was.

Pierre sat on a stool with a glass of water next to him and both of his palms covering his eyes.

Mason's heart sunk to the floor. For some reason it hurt him that Pierre was crying, he couldn't help but walk up to him and gather him close.

Pierre looked up at him with wet eyes and tried to back away weakly but Mason held tight.

Even in the low light, with his face wet like that, he looked like something out of a magazine or a movie. Something expertly photoshopped to look so achingly beautiful and then brought to life.

From where he stood, Mason was a lot taller than him on the stool so that if they got any closer, Pierre's head would rest on his chest.

Without saying a word yet, Mason pushed Pierre's thighs apart and went to stand between them, taking his hands and guiding them to close around his waist.

"What is it?" Mason asked. "It's hurting me to see you like this."

Mason kissed the top of his head and hugged him tighter. Pierre was so upset that he felt hot to the touch. Just how long had he been here like this?

"I j-just don't understand..." he began. His accent loosened up a little when he cried. "Why is everyone the same to me?" Pierre finally hugged him tighter and cried into his chest.

"What happened?" Mason could feel his blood starting to boil.

He didn't push Pierre, just waited patiently for an answer. Anything Pierre would give him. He'd spend the whole night like this if he had to. Definitely if Pierre wanted to.

The answer came after a while. He was running his hands comfortingly against his back, then Pierre told him everything.

༻༺

Jet woke up with his arm feeling fine, although not completely fine in any sense of the word.

He still winced a little if he made any quick sharp movements with it but it was nothing. At least he wasn't going to wear something as annoying as a cast. And thank fuck he didn't need any crutches.

Everything that happened the night before was all he could think of.

The worried looks on everyone's face directed at him was almost too much to believe. He was generally an asshole to each and every one of them, so why did they care?

And the fact that the Master seemed to forget they were still rough around each other confused him. He'd disrespected him before but the man didn't seem to have any memory of it.

It hurt him to think of Pierre. He hated being the reason he was hurt like that.

Jet contemplated going to check on him. That was like the least he could do if he thought of it. And just maybe... he just wanted to see him.

He finally decided he had to, he had to make sure he was alright.

While his thoughts were still trapped with the image of Pierre in his mind, his door swung open.

Riley's tall frame sauntered it's way in. "Ouuu I've got perfect timing," he said, then looked at Jet more closely. "You have to fix that hair, you look hilarious."

The tray shook slightly with Riley's laughter. Yes a tray, he was seeing right. And everything on it looked delicious.

"Fuck you," said Jet, he couldn't help but smile.

He watched Riley stand and laugh at him but it touched his very soul, what he was doing for him.

No one usually cared about him. No one had cared about him in a really long time. And yet here was someone, doing it like it came naturally to him.

It felt strange, but just for the moment, he could pretend like everything was perfect.

Riley placed the tray on his bed as Jet sat up. "You know I'm fine right?" He asked.

Situations like this always made him feel indebted to someone. He learned growing up that no one ever did for you because of a stupid reason like 'they just wanted to'. That bullshit belonged in those lovey-dovey movies. Everyone always expected something in return.

"You know you almost lost your life yesterday right?" Riley asked, setting the tray down along with himself on the bed.

"That's overly dramatic," said Jet, trying to fight the tempting aroma of the food.

In the most serious expression Jet had ever seen on his face, Riley spoke. "You were hurt, I don't find anything humorous about that."

Jet looked down at a bruise on his hand, then covered it subconsciously.

"Yes, I care," Riley continued. "And I know you don't want the conversation to go there so we'll pretend I said nothing, if you start eating."

He was right, it was going to be extremely uncomfortable if the conversation strayed that way.

Riley then smiled his cheeky boyish smile—not that he was paying enough attention to know which one it was. "Unless your arm is still in pain and you want me to spoon feed you."

His arm did hurt, and it would be irritating to eat with it. No no, Jet. Stop finding fucking excuses. "I have two you moron."

"Oh wow really?" Asked Riley. The look on his face was pure cluelessness. "Get to it then."

He sighed like it was a drag and yet he felt a little giddy inside.

"This is not bad," Jet said honestly before he could stop himself.

"No? Ew. I'd never say that," replied Riley as he watched him eat.

"You're weird. And stop staring at me. It's weird," Jet wondered if his vocabulary was failing him.

"See that's the thing, when you're hot and you're weird, that's called sexy, so like, I'm glad you think so, thanks," Riley wiggled his eyebrows.

"I didn't call you hot," Jet shot back.

"But you're thinking it aren't you?"

Fuck. "Don't flatter yourself."

"It's okay, I think you're hot too."

"Fucktard."

Riley moved closer and was now lying on his side with one hand supporting his chin. "You cuss an awful lot, you know that?"

"F–" Jet started, then stopped. "Yeah you're right."

He ate in silence for a full minute while Riley turned to look up at the ceiling.

Then Riley suddenly turned to look at him again. "What is wrong with you?" Jet asked.

"I don't know... I'm not sure," he answered as he sat up.

Riley touched his arm and traced his thumb against the inked skin. Jet went rigid at the sudden contact.

Something was definitely wrong with Riley. Maybe him too, because the way the thumb moved on his skin made him want more. But he'd never admit that.

"This one's my favorite," Riley then added. "So far."

The tattoo was a pair of wings with only one side of them filled with black ink.

"So far?" Jet asked. "The nerve!"

Jet wasn't being truthful with his actions. It meant so much to him, more than Riley knew.

"Yeah I haven't seen them all, unless you want to get naked–" Riley was cut off by a pillow that landed hard on his face.

"Get your mind out the fucking gutter for a second," said Jet.

"You didn't let me finish. I was just going to say get naked and I'll pick," said Riley like that made anything any different. His cheeky smile was back.

"I'm just going to finish this food now okay? Just shut up while I do it."

Riley surprisingly let him. But immediately he was done with the food, he spoke again.

"Get up, I'm going to cut your hair."

"What?" Asked Jet. Why was everyone obsessed with cutting his hair lately?

"Relax, I'm only helping you. I'll make all the hair even. Although it'll be shorter than it is now," said Riley. "Come on, I'm trying to save you."

"I'm not sure," said Jet.

"Yeah that's good enough for me," said Riley and in a few seconds, Jet was up in his arms.

Not quite prepared for it, Jet clung to him as his voice almost dropped to a whine. "Put me down! What the fuck?"

Riley ignored him. "You're way lighter than you look," he said as he headed to the bathroom.

Riley finally sat a red faced and irritated Jet on the counter. "Careful with your arm," he said.

Jet pointed to Riley where the scissors were, not really able to meet his eye.

"The most important thing between anyone and their barber is trust," Riley told him. "So you're going to have to trust me okay?"

"Yeah whatever," said Jet. "Just get it over with."

"That's the wrong attitude Mr... uh wait. What's your other name?" Asked Riley.

After a while, he started cutting and Jet answered. "Carrera."

Riley forgot the issue about the attitude. "You're Italian? Wait are you like part of the mafia or something?"

"Why does everyone assume all Italians are part of the mafia?" Jet asked. His hair kept falling as Riley cut. "Fucking idiots."

"I mean, between the tattoos, the earrings and the brooding 'I'll fuck you up' attitude, I don't know... just throw on some rings on your fingers and you wouldn't convince me otherwise."

Jet felt Riley's breath ghost over his cheek as he tried to pay it no mind.

"I could kidnap you and make a fortune off your ransom."

"If there was anyone to pay it," Jet said without thinking.

He felt Riley still on his head. "Jet–"

"No," he said immediately.

Riley let it go and continued to cut. He said a lot of irritating things but never once did he bring up Jet's personal business again. He was so grateful.

Jet had not felt like this in a long time; all of this care. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to be a little nicer to everyone. No, that wasn't entirely accurate. They made him want to be nicer. To show them himself, even just a little.

"And we're done," said Riley. He was clearly marveling at his own work.

Jet looked at his reflection in the mirror and tried to hide his surprise. He looked even better than before. No, he looked fucking amazing.

"Not bad," he said to Riley.

"Aw you like it that much?" Riley replied while scrunching his face a little. Jet looked away.

They got back to the room after tidying up the places the hair had dropped.

"Uhh...thanks," Jet said awkwardly, he meant it for everything the other male had done for him, even for just thinking of him. Riley only shrugged.

"You should go check up on Pierre, I think he'd really like that," Riley said before taking the tray and leaving. And obviously winking at Jet.

Yeah. "I probably should," Jet said after he was alone again.

He didn't find Pierre in his room and he decided to just walk around aimlessly till he found him.

He was walking back towards the stairs when his eyes located Pierre and his heart beat faster.

Jet immediately went to him and turned him around. He was dying to see Pierre's reaction.

He just didn't expect him to look so down when he turned around.

His eyes turned glassy just at the slightest. He looked so sad and so beautiful.

He needed him to be fine. He needed to know what was bothering him.

But when he tried to reach out, Pierre visibly flinched away from him. He was so confused.

Just the night before, he could swear there had been a connection between them and now this?

"Pierre? Wha–"

"Just please, leave me alone," Jet could have sworn his heart broke.

He was so stunned that he remained frozen in that spot even after Pierre had already walked away from him.

He finally came back to his senses and decided to follow him. He needed to understand. But when he took a step in that direction, someone stopped him.

"Let him go, he doesn't want to talk to you," said Linder's voice.

When Jet looked at him, he almost flinched a little from shock. There was nothing but venom in Linder's eyes.

He wasn't expecting it. Linder was someone he wanted to get to know, and he'd finally decided that he was going to try.

Why was he looking at him like that? What the fuck did he do? First Pierre, and now him?

Linder walked away as if to catch up to Pierre, leaving Jet to stare after them in hurt and confusion.

The walls he was trying so hard to lower, started to build up again at that very moment.