Restless Hearts (Closed to Melia)

[neptune]

From the things that Chris knew about Zach, and—god—there had been so many in such a short time, he had never known the other man to freely hand out compliments. There had always been something so intimidating about Zach, slightly dark and just off-putting enough to be considered mysterious. They were on set the first time that Zach had ever commented on his acting, resetting for a scene and those few words of praise had left Chris reeling for the rest of the day. Hearing Zach practically gushing over him now was insane and Chris really didn't know how to handle it. At least it was a distraction from his fuck up, the precious words that could have sent the conversation careening in a very different and (probably) uncomfortable direction.

"I'm glad you think that," Chris said quietly, feeling a bit lame. "But you know, it's easy to make something good when you have the right chemistry." Suddenly, Chris felt like he was talking to a reporter, being interviewed and trying to be as neutral as possible when it came to questions about his and Zach's closeness. It was just the two of them, the radio off, his phone finally quiet, Chris could have easily said everything that was on his mind. He glanced over at Zach as he drove, weighing the risks with his stomach in nervous knots.

Now wasn't the time. Zach had just come out to him, and pouncing on that opportunity felt selfish and wrong—Chris didn't want to do that to anyone, let alone a friend, someone he cared for so deeply. "Spock probably drives a little faster than you, though," he grinned. "Let's face it, you're secretly an old woman." If only Zach had taken the short way back to his place.

 

[Melia]

There was a silent moment while Chris' words sunk in. "You think we've got good chemistry?" he asked, serious now, his voice lowering, almost flirting, but not quite. It really was a serious question and part of Zach really wanted to know if Chris really felt the same. They'd had chemistry acting, yes, but did they have chemistry off cameras too? Zach thought yes.

But Chris was already changing the subject though. Humor, always using humor to mask real thoughts. "Would you rather be stuck in traffic or deal with the back roads with lots of stop lights and stop signs?" It could be a toss up really. Spend time in bumper to bumper traffic or spend the time taking a longer route and dealing with the mundane lights and intersections. All was well though, as they were very nearly back at Zach's place now. "Spock would go five miles under the speed limit and you know it. Besides, he's only familiar with the concept of driving. He's far busier with more important and complex things like traveling through space, anyway. It's a completely different world." Zach moved a hand up to his ear, as if listening to an earbud discreetly hidden away. "Oh, yep, this just in, he states that it would have been illogical to attempt navigating the 101. There now that wasn't so bad was it?" He asked as he pulled into his complex's drive, pressing the button for the automatic garage door.

 

[neptune]

There was a certain flirtatiousness wrapped around Zach's question and for a quick moment, Chris wondered if he had imagined. More often than not, he told himself that every signal he thought he had ever picked up on had been made up, just another instance of reading too deeply into something that wasn't there. This time, something felt different, and yet again, Chris was faced with the challenge of either keeping quiet, or spilling his guts and ruining his very young career. It was a tough choice, a call that Chris didn't want to make while stuck in the passenger seat of a Lexus.

"How is going five under logical?" Chris asked, shrugging at his own question. With each passing stop sign, they were closer to Zach's apartment, and Chris couldn't wait to get out of the car. Finally, they were pulling back into the complex just after Zach had pretended to communicate with his alter ego. Laughing softly, Chris shook his head and got out of the car. He raised his own hand to his ear and put on a more serious face as he paused by the door. "This just in. Captain Kirk agrees that you drive like my grandma."

Chemistry was as simple as banter—a few easy jokes over coffee, a late night in London, and all the times when Chris had looked at Zach like he was the only person in the room. Did they have chemistry? Definitely. But could Chris answer that question at face value and place no other stipulations on his words? Probably not. That was why he had stayed quiet, and why he was so glad that Zach had thought to humor him for a moment.

A growl from his stomach prompted Chris to grab the bags. There wasn't much to bring in, but he was trying to be a good guest since Zach had agreed to cook for him—even if kale was involved. Soon, he was following the other man upstairs and setting the shopping down in the kitchen as Noah excitedly bounced around their feet.

 

[Melia]

"Following the laws of the road is a logical choice. As a person who does things by the book, you shouldn't be shocked that Mister Spock should choose to follow rules. Captain Kirk always was a bit reckless." As Zach shut off the engine of the Lexus, the vehicle simply clicking off like a light switch, he didn't miss Chris' avoidance of his question, or the way he distracted himself by rushing to get the bags before Zach had even gotten out of the car. Zach found himself watching the other man more closely when he thought Chris wasn't looking.

"It's almost as if we were gone for another month," Zach said, catching Noah mid jump with a stern "No" and pushing gently on the dogs shoulder. It wasn't like Noah was a big dog by any means, and his jumping would hardly knock anyone over, but it wasn't a habit he wanted any of his dogs to have. He moved to the kitchen to start unloading some of the groceries into the fridge, leaving out the ingredients for baked "fried" chicken, and kale for a salad for himself, since Chris didn't seem to have an indication that he would join him for that particular course.

Harold had apparently slunk off to Zach's room, probably sleeping under the bed and not at all interested in the fact that his owner had returned. Such a typical cat. Zach set out the olive oil and a frying pan to satisfy Chris' fried needs and went about mixing the breading. He wanted to return to the question about chemistry, but Chris avoiding the subject had made him nervous to bring it up again, so he remained quiet as he worked, dark locks of hair falling over his forehead as he concentrated on making the perfect breading mix.

 

[neptune]

Unlike Zach, Chris didn't mind if Noah jumped on him. The mutt was friendly, and since Chris had no pets of his own, he took advantage of Zach's whenever he could. Although, he was a little disappointed to find that Harold wasn't waiting for him when they got back, something about that little paw poking out from under the door had really made Chris's day that much better. He figured the grumpy cat would come out when he smelled dinner cooking, ready to beg for scraps when Zach wasn't looking. If pets were children, Chris would have been the fun uncle that let everyone have ice cream for dinner—at least, that was how Katie described him.

"I don't think I could have handled another month," Chris admitted, chuckling as he contented himself with petting the top of Noah's head. He watched as Zach moved about the kitchen, getting ingredients together so that they could start on dinner. It was all nicely domestic, something that Chris could have gotten incredibly used to in a very short amount of time. For a moment, he was lost in thought, distracted by the lock of dark hair that had fallen across Zach's forehead, and the overwhelming urge to slick it back before giving him a quick kiss.

The addition of olive oil to the counter halted Chris's stupid and unattainable thoughts. "You don't fry chicken in olive oil," he said, knowing that much about the dish. Instead of rifling through Zach's cabinets in search of vegetable oil, Chris moved over in the smallish kitchen to put things away. Baked "fried" chicken was something that he could compromise on, but he still wouldn't be eating kale. "When are you going to make me something Italian?" he asked, now intending to peel potatoes so that he could call himself useful.

 

[Melia]

If he was going to use oil, Zach always preferred to make it olive oil for it's health benefits. He pointed at the olive oil. "No it's a matter of knowing how to use it and where it's smoke point is, which is, contrary to popular belief, still hot enough to fry food in. And it's healthier." Zach would do anything to make a seemingly unhealthy dinner as healthy as possible and still taste good. "It would be unwise to question my methods, Mr. Kirk. They have been scientifically proven to be both nutritious and delicious."

As the chicken came out of the package, there was a very distinct jingling of tags announcing Harold's return. It seemed no cat could resist the temptation of chicken and somehow, they could smell it from miles away. Combined with the distinct sound of the plastic, it was unavoidable. Harold was in the kitchen, standing on his hind legs begging for the meat just as much as Noah begged for dog treats. Zach nudged the cat gently with his knee, knowing full well the reason Harold even knew the wonders of chicken was only because Chris shared his scraps.

"I didn't know you wanted something Italian," Zach said, surprise lacing his words. He looked up at Chris from his current task of cutting the fat off the chicken. "You should have said something before. I've got some really great recipes. I've got a pepper risotto dish that's to die for, and a homemade Portabella mushroom ravioli that's really good, homemade pasta and everything. Also a seafood parmesan if you're in the mood for that sometime."

Zach put a pot of water on to boil for the potatoes that Chris was peeling. "Next time." Italian could get romantic. And it was making Zach's thoughts drift back to where they had been back in the car. It was hard not to imagine eating Italian while sharing a bottle of wine and candle lights lighting Chris' impossibly blue eyes. He found himself side eying Chris' profile as he worked, which was probably not the best idea while he was using a knife and he caught himself before he very nearly cut his finger. Blood all over the food would not be romantic no matter if it were fried chicken or fancy Italian.

 

[neptune]

Healthy and smug were two sides of the same over-thirty coin. Chris couldn't help but smile as Zach lectured him on the finer points of using olive oil for everything. "Okay, okay," he finally agreed when Spock joined the PSA and crusade to make him a more healthy person. Truthfully, Chris would have preferred to leave the olive oil out of dinner that night, but getting his way seemed rather impossible. It was better to simply let Zach do his thing, and then tease him later if he was being particularly pompous about a subject. "I didn't know you were suddenly an expert on smoke points."

The distinctive sound of metal tags jingling caught Chris's attention, and he wasn't surprised to see that Harold had come out from wherever he had been hiding. Zach knew exactly what the cat wanted, and Chris was pleased to see the feline standing on his hind legs, already begging for scraps. If he could make a lasting impression on the world's grumpiest cat, then he could do it with anybody.

"I love Italian," Chris clarified. Although he wasn't that picky about his diet, pasta was one thing that he tried to avoid having too much of. Despite growing up in California where everything was fresh, summery and full of seafood, the world offered nothing better than a big bowl of carbs covered in cheese and tomato sauce. Italians made the best food, and that claim stood as Zach described several dishes that Chris would have rather eaten that night. "I'm always in the mood for that. Next time, okay?" he grinned, "you owe me for the kale salad."

Unlike Zach, Chris wasn't even thinking of the possibility of romance. It was strange, because his mind frequently drifted there whenever he was with Zach, but to Chris, it would just be another dinner. Much like there was nothing romantic about fried chicken, Chris didn't think anything of sharing a meal. He continued to peel the potatoes, making sure that the skins didn't go down the drain and when he was done, he added a large pinch of salt to the water that was just getting to be lukewarm at best.

Wiping off his hands on a towel, Chris walked over to the fridge. "Do you want a beer?" he asked, grabbing one for himself. It wasn't wine and candlelight, but beer and sunset through an open window were just as good.

 

[Melia]

So maybe Zach had turned into one of those stereotypical health obsessed Southern California types, but really he felt so much better when he ate good food than when he ate junk. He turned toward Chris, waving his knife while he tried to make a point, "Christopher, it doesn't take a culinary genius to operate a simple google search." It took a moment before he realized that he was pointing a knife at Chris and he made pause and glanced down at the tip, slimy with chicken blood. There was a short huff that might have been a laugh had he not switched tactics so fast and put on his Sylar face. "You have a power and I must possess it."

The power being beautiful blue eyes and boyish charm. Very powerful indeed. Zach slid back over to cutting the chicken. He felt guilty now that he had made the executive decision of chicken when they could have had Italian. He'd really wished that Chris had said something. He hadn't fully realized yet that this was him actually caring about impressing Chris. Maybe it was the buzz about coming out that was affecting his mind, as if somehow it had made Chris also magically gay. He knew he needed to be more rational. It didn't. But perhaps he had subconsciously come out to Chris in hopes that maybe the other man felt the same, as if perhaps he had been putting feelers out there. Of course it was too soon to tell. And he really ought to stop letting his thoughts filter that way. He'd just come out to Chris. And that was all there was to it. No romantic feelings were allowed just because it was out in the open now.

Zach busied himself with breading the chicken and once he was finished with that, moved to help Chris peel the potatoes since those took the longest to cook anyway.

 

[neptune]

Having a knife covered in chicken blood brandished at him was certainly a new thing, but Zach seemed to catch on rather quick that hand gestures and cutlery weren't a very good mix. "And what power is that?" Chris asked, truly curious as he raised an eyebrow at the other man. Whatever made up superpower Zach came up with, Chris was sure that it wasn't going to be all that impressive—and it would probably have something to do with constantly trying to avoid the adulthood that had long settled into his life. Zach was a critical person, even if he was just talking about the benefits of olive oil over vegetable oil.

Although Zach hadn't answered him, Chris grabbed him a beer anyway. "I'll take that as a yes," he assumed, now holding two mostly chilled bottles between his fingers as he rifled through drawers to find a bottle opener. Thankfully, Zach was rather organized, and it didn't take long for Chris to pry the tops off. He took a long drink from the bottle in his hand and left Zach's to sit on the counter for when his hands weren't covered in either salmonella or starch.

After taking another, much shorter drink, Chris resumed his previous task of peeling and quartering potatoes as the water continued to heat up. "Seriously," he said, giving Zach a nudge with his elbow. "What's this power that you need to possess so badly?" He glanced up at the other man, waiting for a response. "And what was that? Are you Sylar all of the sudden? You've got to pick a character and stick with it." Captain Kirk and the guy from Heroes probably wouldn't have any chemistry.

 

[Melia]

Zach hadn't thought so far ahead. Nor was he about to be one hundred percent honest, so as not to freak Chris out. Accepting the beer Chris had chosen for him, he took a sip. "I'm an actor, it's my job to be different characters. Besides, if Heroes work is starting back up I should really practice him." He pondered while he sliced a potato. Outside of being cute, what could be a realistic power for Zach? Often in Heroes the characters gained powers that related to their personalities. Not always, but sometimes. Chris could be quiet and laid back. He didn't necessarily like being in the spotlight. Invisibility was too cliche though. However now that it had entered into his mind he was having a hard time thinking of anything else. And he knew saying it out loud would prompt an explanation for his logic behind that idea and it was rather lame.

Zach took another sip of beer and gave Chris another Sylar glare. "Invisibility. Cliche, I know."

He waited for the inevitable questioning of his response but he was now curious what Chris might say about him. "What do you think my super power would be? And it can't be Sylar's."

 

[neptune]

As an actor himself, Chris wasn't one to ever knock another actor's methods. He respected Zach for what he did, and the roles he played and continued to play in a field as uncertain as television. Personally, Chris didn't know if he could ever deal with the pressure of a TV show—it was just so much more work than movies, so many extra things to worry about and the pace was fast enough to be dizzying. Whatever worked for Zach was a good thing.

"Invisibility?" Chris asked, eyebrow cocked as he thought about it. Back in high school, Chris's shyness offered him the uncanny ability to blend into a crowd, but as he grew older and more successful, invisibility was a bit harder. It would have been a good power to have, useful for when someone was in his face with a camera, or when he wanted to go to the store without being bothered, but the blond had to wonder what it was about himself that made Zach think he would be best at not being noticed. "Alright," he shrugged after mulling it over. "I can work with being invisible. I probably wouldn't be the most popular guy on the Justice League, but..." he trailed off, shoulders shrugging a second time as he laughed.

When it came to Zach, picking a super power seemed a little more complicated. The other man possessed so many different qualities, both superficial and deep down, that it was hard to pick just one thing to focus on. "You would have..." Chris paused, licking his lips and then pursing them as he cut through another small potato. He glanced over to Zach, blue eyes settling on his best friend and it suddenly occurred to Chris just how distant his best friend could sometimes be. Zach kept his feelings close to his chest, tucked into his pocket and only brought them out when he chose to. Someone else may have likened that quality to super strength, but Chris settled on a different word.

"Invincibility." Chris reached around Zach's back to turn up the stove, always impatient over boiling water. "Sylar doesn't have that too, does he?"

 

[Melia]

Sylar had syphoned so many different super powers that Zach actually had to think about if Sylar already had Invincibility. Sylar's only real power was the ability to syphon other's powers, at the expense of their own lives in the process. Zach liked to think that the man actually ate their brains though it was never fully disclosed exactly how he absorbed the powers.

"Somehow, I don't think you'd be terribly upset at the lack of popularity. You would be the type who quietly saved lives but didn't want to necessarily receive recognition for it." It was a rare kind compliment coming from Zach. Though it might seem that he was too self absorbed to notice such things, he did from time to time.

With pursed lips, he pondered Chris' answer. "It depends on your definition of Invincibility. Because if it's the ability to regenerate like Hayden's character could do, then the whole first season was a plot point of him trying to get that one power, which technically is like invincibility. He did eventually get that power though, yes. But I only meant his original power, which was the ability to absorb any power. If he ate that person's brain. Implied. But if you ask me and since he's my character, I say yes." Zach gave an evil Sylar grin. "What makes me so Invincible? Because I have no fear of eating brains?"

 

[neptune]

That was an accurate statement. If Chris happened to be an invisible superhero, he wouldn't have ever wanted his face in the paper or on television whenever he saved someone. He valued his privacy, and although starring in such an iconic franchise had forced him more into the public eye, it wasn't something that Chris enjoyed. If he wasn't specifically talking for an interview, or being approached by actual fans, he wanted to be left alone. He was much less social than some of his friends in that respect, especially Zach who was a weird sort of angry extrovert. By comparison, the two men couldn't have been more different, but maybe that was why they had such excellent chemistry.

"I'm talking about you-you, not Sylar," Chris clarified with a small smirk. Although, it was always interesting to hear Zach talk about the finer points of his characters, even if they were now working with the theory that Sylar ate the brains of his victims to absorb his powers. While it would have made for good TV, there was no way cable would allow for something that graphic.

Suddenly, Chris felt a bit silly for putting so much thought into his answer. He shrugged at the question, "nothing ever bothers you. You're always okay, and that's pretty invincible to me." Again, Chris was the opposite, always wearing his heart on his sleeve where anyone could easily hurt him. "If you eat my brain," he began, trying to draw attention away from his honesty, "you're not going to have any room for chicken."

 

[Melia]

"Awwwww," Zach crooned, giving Chris a playful nudge. "That's very touching, Christopher." The statement touched Zach more than he let on though he played it off casually, as usual, because that was just too much "feeling stuff" for Zach and he wasn't exactly the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, as Chris was wont to point out. Some might see it as a manipulative tactic. Don't show your opponent all your cards or some such notion. At least that's what an ex had said once. However, as far as Zach was concerned, if his partner viewed the relationship as a battle ground and the other as an opponent, it was the very reason that relationship hadn't lasted. It wasn't all about keeping tally of who owed who what in sexual favors or other or who was right all the time.
No, for Zach it was just who he was. He didn't feel it necessary to be openly honest constantly about every emotion he experienced. He didn't understand the necessity of it. He showed it when it mattered, and that was all that did matter as far as he was concerned.

The potatoes were beginning to get soft in the boiling water and Zach preheated the oven and put some oil on the stove, careful that it didn't get too hot. A few flecks of breading had dropped to the floor and Harold had gone straight at them for their chicken flavor. Noah, on the other hand, was being a good dog and watching everyone patiently from the sofa, his head resting on the back of the couch and his expressive dog eyebrows making it particularly hard to resist not going over and petting him.

 

[neptune]

Just as nothing ever bothered Zach, Chris didn't think that his friend seemed particularly moved by anything either. It was sometimes a very frustrating thing to be constantly reminded that he was more sensitive, moved to tears by certain movies and always throwing himself into whatever relationship he happened to find himself in. Often, Chris wondered how Zach did it, how he managed to detach himself so easily from everyone else, and only ever feel a fraction of sadness. In a way, Chris supposed that he was jealous, left wishing that he knew Zach's secrets to never being upset again, or anxious and left to over-think and analyze a few words or a single gesture to death.

"Shut up," Chris laughed, playing off of Zach's lack of seriousness. It would be the last time for quite a while that Chris would bother to tell the other man how he felt, all of those soft feelings that he had been keeping to himself were better left where they were.

Now that most of the prep was done, Chris was fine to hang back as Zach continued to move around the kitchen. He noticed that Harold was still hanging around, waiting for more pieces of breading to drop from the pieces of chicken and Zach's fingers. Chris smiled at the black cat, thinking it was a rather bold move when Zach was always so quick to shoo the animals away. "Do you need me to do anything else?" he asked, taking another long drink. Chris wasn't even close to a buzz yet, but he was wishing for one, thinking that it would have made the night easier. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable around Zach, but there were moments when he just felt like escaping present company, feeling small and scrutinized over the simplest things. Zach was intense, but that was what had drawn him in to begin with.

 

[Melia]

Zach never noticed when others might feel offended or put off by his lack of acknowledgement of feelings because he felt that he was acknowledging them and it was simply just the way that he was. Chris sometimes challenged that though. Zach almost wished he would challenge it more. Mainly because he liked Chris and different points of view were always welcome, if they ever came up.

"You can mash the potatoes while I fry up the chicken?" Zach suggested. He was heating up the oil and while he placed some of the chicken in the oven, he left a small portion for frying. Just for Chris. And maybe one or two for himself. "Otherwise, feel free to take it easy and distract this one," he toed gently at Harold's tail, "away from the kitchen. Whichever you prefer."

Zach was more than comfortable in the kitchen and found multitasking easy. He liked Chris' company there though, but knowing he wasn't far off playing with his favorite buddies was fine too.

"Don't take that to mean that you're taking custody though. The closest you'd be getting to that is moving in. Not moving him out."

 

[neptune]

Given the choice of being productive or playing with the cat, Chris would always choose the latter—even if Harold was a little grumpy sometimes. Still, Zach had graciously offered to make him dinner, and it only seemed fitting to help with that and not worry about Harold, who was steadily inching closer to the stove every time Chris glanced at him. All domesticated pets like chicken, that was just a fact that Zach was going to have to live with, along with how often Chris fed Harold and Noah because compared to fried chicken, kibble just didn't seem all that appetizing.

"Is that what you want?" Chris asked, now over at refrigerator and looking through its contents. "I move in here and we have a dysfunctional little family, I make your pets fat and then you get mad at me? We break up and never talk again, you re-marry and Harold sends me letters about how much he hates his step-dad. I can't read them because he's a cat, but his paw prints speak to me." Because every scenario had to be dramatic and over the top, and also because Chris had only found half a stick of butter, and soy milk, Zach had to be the bad guy.

Draining the water from the potatoes down the sink, Chris looked over his shoulder at Zach. "I thought we went over this earlier? Why are you trying to traumatize your animals?" Thinking about it, as Chris lobbed more than a tablespoon of butter into the pot without measuring, he doubted that he and Zach would have made very good roommates. Zach was always so clean, his apartment looking like something of a hipster showroom and Chris liked to leave things on the floor for days on end. Zach was liable to have a heart attack just from the bed not being made.

"You couldn't handle me being around you all the time," Chris finally decided. He dug through the silverware drawer for a spoon and tasted the potatoes, now mashed but missing some pepper.

 

[Melia]

"What kind of dad are you that you can't read your cats paw prints?" Zach had been joking about Chris moving in, but the seed of the idea was there now and over the course of the next few days, it would grow and take root in what Zach considered a rather dangerous way. Still he played along. "You're not the best parent at everything, you know. You spoil them. I teach them so they can get on in the world. Furthermore, I can read my cat's handwriting. Because I make the effort, which you clearly haven't put in."

The chicken hit the pan with a sizzle and didn't crumble, which meant Zach had dried the meat enough before breading it. It would be deliciously crispy, just how Chris would like it. And deep fried. Deep fried with love and care because Zach cared about Chris' arteries and had used olive oil instead of nasty vegetable oil. And it would still be delicious.

"I am capable of living with people who are different than me," Zach retorted defensively. "Perfect compatibility is boring and one's company is worth more than one's livability." Zach liked to think he wasn't that difficult to live with. He could be quite the neat freak, and liked to be just so on decor. So maybe to someone like Chris that might grind gears but Zach could cook, and that went a long way with Chris. And he was also capable of compromise.

He had to pause and wonder just why it was he was feeling so defensive about Chris thinking them incompatible roommates. It felt oddly like rejection. And that was unpleasant.

 

[neptune]

With the mashed potatoes now sufficiently peppered, Chris reached for his drink and turned back to Zach, who was managing to make himself look superior even in the most ridiculous of hypothetical situations. "First of all," Chris began, after taking another drink from the bottle in his hand, "I don't have to be able to read his writing, his paw prints speak to me. Don't you listen? We have a special connection. Second of all, who did you marry that Harold has to send me letters? And third of all, I am the best parent at everything because I'm the fun one and I don't make them eat kale and chia seeds." Although, by comparison, pizza scraps and chicken skin seemed equally terrible, but at least those things were delicious.

Finally, Zach began to fry the chicken, and Chris put the lid over the potatoes so that they would stay warm on the stove. His quick assessment of whether or not they could ever live together wasn't meant to evoke some kind of discussion, mostly because it was never going to happen in the first place. Now that Zach was one step closer to coming out in front of everyone, Chris assumed that his best friend would have a boyfriend soon enough, which would result in the rapid decline of their friendship and a broken heart for Chris that would leave him feeling extra stupid because the scenario was unavoidable from the start.

"I'm not saying we're not compatible," he disagreed, and barely noticed his own slip of the tongue. "I'm saying that you'd get annoyed with me in about a week because you're a neat freak and there's a month's worth of mail sitting on my counter that I haven't even bothered to open." Among other messy things that went on in Chris's apartment, such as wet towels being left on the bed, the single lime in the refrigerator, the accumulating dust on the TV stand, the stack of books on his nightstand and never vacuuming underneath the couch. Zach was sure to absolutely hate living with him.

 

[Melia]

"The lighting guy. And you got really unnecessarily jealous and you know they can pick up on that," Zach retorted plucking up one of the pieces of fried chicken that was done and cooling. He couldn't resist and took a little nibble.

"Fuck- I try so hard to eat clean but damn that is good."

Truth be told, there was a part of Zach that wished Chris would have felt some jealousy over the lighting guy but that was not to be said out loud. If Chris swung in his direction, he would say so, otherwise, it was pointless to even fantasize about such a thing.

"How have you not been evicted..." Zach pondered Chris' words instead, letting the thoughts fall to the wayside. "You've got to pay your bills. See this is why you need someone neat and organized in your life, to make sure that you don't fall into a pit of destruction."

Zach took another bite of the chicken. "The baked stuff isn't even going to compare to this... it's going to be a disappointment. I shouldn't have let it touch my tongue. I've sinned to the clean eating gods."