Mik had just felt lonely that day. Some days were all right, filled with things to do and think about, some seemed even too busy, cluttered with things, but today was empty. It stretched through the morning and the filtered afternoon light that teased him with its slow migration across the carpet. Every moment seemed to last a little to long and he knew that if he had to wait another minute to talk to another human being, he would crack wide open like a gibbering maniac.

That was why when the door opened, he might have reacted a little strongly.

"Omph." Is apparently the sound your 23 year old lover makes when you attempt to squeeze the life out of him.

And if Cyanide had had any type of normal day, he would have gone stiff with surprise, maybe softened up for a moment or two, before pushing Mik away, but today had not been a normal day.

Today, Vince, the other graduate assistant who worked with Cyanide, hadn't shown up for work. So Cya had been loaded down, grading papers until he thought his brain would melt. Today, he had cursed at grammer and confusing sentances and his dull red pencil. Today, he had missed lunch break entirely and spent the rest of the day listening to his growling stomah. But worst of all, today he had called Vince's house to see what the problem was. Today, he had learned that Vince wouldn't be back. Because Vince was to busy dying in a hospital bed. Of A.I.D.S.

So today when Mik reached the doorway intending to merely smother the younger man, he found himself being hugged back just as hard.

They stood for an eternity, just in front of the closed door, Cya's jacket a heap on the floor. Mik's strong arms wrapped around thin shoulders, his lips pressed against thick black hair, the smell of Head and Shoulders, Speed stick and the vague incense smell of Cya's cramped desk space clinging in his nostrils. Cya, in turn, clung to Mik's waist, burying his own face into the strong chest.

So close where they that Mik could feel the exact moment that Cya began to cry.

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