"'James?'" Simon echoes, eyebrow raised, but he lets it go. As much as he wants it to be otherwise, he knows that his arrangement with Skip is far from exclusive.

It's a small couch in a small flat and there's no way they can be sitting so close without touching, but for whatever reason Simon can't bring himself to close the last couple of centimeters between them. He just wants to get drunk and fool around, but he's just so damn tired.

"How are your classes going?"