Clusterfuck

iii

Toby wonders if Leo's into guys.

It's just a thought that merely crosses his mind. Because yes, he's cute, and no, Toby wouldn't necessarily mind if something were to happen between them. And also—the wink. The damn wink. It threw him off his game, and now he can't get it out of his head. It was deliberate and it was volitional, and Toby knows that for a fact. Leo had made direct eye contact and smiled. It wasn't some trick of the wind. No smoke and mirrors. That is one thing he is confident about.

So, naturally, he has to wonder if Leo maybe... thinks he's attractive too. Because why else would he do that? To tease him? Toby went to high school. He knows that straight guys do a lot of weird things, but winking flirtatiously at other men isn't usually one of them. For some reason, that's where they draw the line rather than borderline molestation.

As they mill about the library, searching for a table to settle down at, Toby risks a few sideways glances at Leo. He holds his chin high, he realizes, consistently. And it seems like there's always a hint of a smirk on his face, whether subtle or outright. And he has a dimple on the left side of his mouth, an indent maybe the size of the pad of Toby's pinky finger. It's much easier to see in the warm, yellow lighting of the library's interior than it had been under the fluorescents in the lecture hall or the overcast sky just outside.

"Oh, over there," Leo says, stopping short and pointing across Toby's chest. Toby follows his finger with his eyes to land his gaze upon a little two-person booth, over in the corner. He barely has time to register the area before something's tugging him in its direction by the sleeve of his coat.

"Hey," he squeaks out, nearly tripping over his own feet within the first few steps he takes. But Leo doesn't acknowledge him, and continues marching forward, his dimple looking hollower from this angle than the last.

Leo releases him after a few moments, allowing him to slide into the booth on his own—though from the way he'd been clasping Toby's sleeve, he half expected him to be thrown down, as if he was a prisoner being carted away to the cellar. Toby clears his throat and makes himself comfortable (as comfortable as he can possibly be, at least) while Leo scoots in across from him.

"All right," Leo prompts, folding his hands on the table, fingers interlocked with each other as if this is a business meeting or something. Toby glances down at them, then up at his eyes, then scares himself and looks back down again after less than a second. Fucking wimp. "So."

"S-so," Toby repeats, nodding slowly, staring at the mildly reflective surface in front of him, as if doing so will allow him some insight into this whole situation, a bit of a clue as to what the premise of this project even is, as if it's a crystal ball of some sort. But no; all he sees is a beige-ish blob in replacement of his face and his erratic blond hair, disheveled every which way because of the wind. He smooths it down whilst praying to some supernatural deity of some kind that Leo will let him know all the answers without any provocation coming from him.

But Leo doesn't say anything, and instead just looks at him for a second. Toby fidgets under his gaze, because wow. There is no peace with this guy.

Toby finally decides to be brave and lift up his head, just in time to see Leo's mouth open, words seemingly queued up on his tongue—and then the table begins to vibrate below their wrists, disturbing the awkward silence that had settled over them. Toby glances down at Leo's phone, which lies face up on the table, and just barely manages to read the caller ID before Leo snatches it up and presses it against his ear: Ariel Fischer.

Leo tosses an apologetic glance towards Toby before speaking.  "Hey. I'm at the library right now."

Toby scratches the back of his neck and looks around as the voice on the other end replies, and continues to speak for what Toby thinks must be at least a minute. Leo's expression does not once waver.