Page 45 of Cross the Line

“My mistake.” Alec laughs, already in a better mood. “Let me try.”

“You’ll tank my K/D ratio.” Hunter scoots sideways, trying to keep the controller out of reach, but Alec launches himself forward and ends up half in Hunter’s lap as he attempts to take the controller from him.

“Come on, let me try your little make believe thing.”

“Call of Duty,” Hunter corrects, using his stupidly long arms to lift the controller out of reach. It occurs to Alec that Hunter is actually really handsome with his blond hair and blue eyes. “Besides, I thought you didn’t play video games.”

I don’t, Alec thinks, desperate as fuck for any distraction from his brain. “Teach me.”

Hunter pauses, looking at Alec with a fairly intense level of eye contact. Alec can’t imagine what he looks like with his bruised cheek and split lip, trying to steal his new roommate's controller. He doesn’t play video games. He still barely knows Hunter. Maybe he’s losing his mind.

“Is this about that guy that was here last week?”

“Why would you ask that? Did someone say something?”

“Is there something to say?” Hunter says. If the questions weren’t being directed at Alec, he’d be far more impressed at Hunter’s perception. As it is he feels squirmy, like he wants to run until his legs burn, or to bite something. He settles for tapping out a pattern on his leg.

“Who blabbed? Was it Riley? He’s got a big fucking mouth. Or Antonio? He never shuts up.”

“You never shut up,” Hunter says.

Alec flips him off and Hunter laughs before retrieving the second controller and setting up player two.

“To answer your question, no one told me anything.” He passes a controller. “I do have eyes, though.”

“Don’t say that,” Alec groans, tipping himself sideways so he’s half off the couch. “I’m subtle and no one knows anything.”

“You’re about as subtle as a stoplight.”

“Fuck you,” Alec grumbles, shoving his socked feet at Hunter, who merely laughs again. “I can be subtle. I am the king of subtle. I am—fuck, I’m not subtle.”

“If it helps, I don’t think he has any idea. He’s pretty old, maybe it was past his bedtime.”

“He’s twenty-nine.” Alec snorts, wondering what’s happening to his life. He wasn’t even gonna confess this to Riley and Antonio, and here he is all but spilling his guts to Hunter. “He’s?—”

“Oblivious as fuck?”

Alec collapses, his hand hanging off the couch. “Yes, that.”

Hunter nods. “Sounds brutal.” Alec holds his breath, waiting for the sympathy Riley or Antonio might offer, or the twenty questions. To his surprise and relief, he gets neither. “Wanna shoot some shit?”

“Yes, I do,” Alec says, twisting until he’s back on the couch. He ends up far too close to Hunter, his side entirely smashed against him. “Sorry, I can move. Hang on.”

“You’re good,” Hunter says, eyes on the tv as he leans against Alec.

The pressure is a relief and Alec tries not to overthink it. Were it one of his close friends, they’d know without being told how much Alec likes physical contact. They’d know what it means and everything it doesn’t. Part of Alec wants to explain, but the rest of him is raw and exhausted, relieved that Hunter isn’t prying. Alec’s not even sure if Hunter is straight or queer, but he doesn’t seem remotely bothered about another guy all up in his personal space, so Alec figures he’s safe.

“You’ll never be as good as me, but if you try really hard maybe you won’t totally suck, King.”

“Wow, you’re such an inspirational teacher.”

“You wanna learn or not?” Hunter grins.

“Alright, boss man, let's do this.”

“Am I hallucinating?”

Alec squeezes his eyes shut tighter, willing the loud voice to go away.

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