Jail's Bait: Time Served (Book 5)

Author’s Note: Well, this is it! The end! This is the the final book of the Jail’s Bait series. If you hung around this long: Thank You So Much For Your Support!

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Chapter 1

…KZST FM, broadcasting Seattle, Tacoma… 97.1 Seattle’s own: Hot Traxx!!!... 

…’Good morniiiiiing, Seattle!  Its 6 AM, I'm Jill Swill and this is the Hot Traxx morning Show; along with me are DJ Slyyce on the one’s and two’s, and the Morning Show Tiffany Girls; Sylvah Gold, Baguettez and Sistah VVS...!  Today’s topic: Men who leave for no reason at all: Why can't men stay committed to a relationship??? What a shame we’ve been asking this question since time forgot, and in the year 2018 we still can't get an answer…!!  Call us up, ladies, and especially those men who did the dumping!  We’re gonna get to the bottom of this once and for all’-(clik)

 

Malik Warrington Hill pulled his arm back under the covers to burrow it under the pillow his head rested on, feeling the lassitude of five more minutes wash over his body.  As he sank back into slumber his thoughts lingered on the topic of today’s Morning Show… the sheer lack of commitment in relationships today made the man formerly known as Joop shake his head in shame.  He was the exemption to the rule, of course… well, he corrected himself, he and Lamar were never afraid to commit; why be afraid when your partner is completely all you’ve ever wanted…?  Absently he reached through the covers to stroke whatever part of his lover he could reach… and felt nothing but rumpled, cool bedclothes.  Lamar’s body wasn’t there. 

“…Mar?”  he managed, yet it came out in a yawn.  There was no reply. 

Fear snapped his eyes wide open, and his stomach clenched as he jerked upwards, staring about — and instantly he calmed down as his eyes fell on the love of his life and his life-partner, Lamar Clark-Hill; clean-shaven bare-chested with simple white leg-length pajamas, sitting cross-legged on the white bear-skin rug in Buddhist style, facing the eastern windows which was bringing in the early morning sunlight.  From what Malik could see Lamar’s eyes were closed, and his hands were resting on his legs, palm-up in a position of supplication as he whispered incessantly under his breath.  Malik clenched at his chest, willing his heart to stop beating like a trip-hammer… Lamar was fine; he’s awake… for one more day... 

Malik stared quietly as his lover continued a quiet chant, chest heaving, eyes closed.  He still remembered when they first met; 6 yrs old, in the first grade.  Lamar was so sad at the time because he didn’t have a mom anymore, and since Malik thought he had the coolest mom in the world, in the innocence of childhood he offered to share his mom with Lamar.  That was what began the great friendship which lasted for over 3 decades, and still going strong.  It wasn’t until they were both 18 that their intense bond revealed itself as true love.  And now both Malik and Lamar were 33 years old, on the cusp of approaching the last great prime of their youth.  And yet even now, after 27 years of solid friendship and 15 years of endless romance, Lamar still had the ability to stop Malik’s heart whenever he got a good look at him.  Now Malik was no slouch, standing at 6’2, with a slim-cut muscular physique, and that sexy mid-range complexion termed as red-boned.  His dark eyes were so dramatic that you felt as if you could fall into them if he turned his gaze towards you.  And the sex-appeal was still too strong for his own good; if anything, aging finessed his swagger into fine art.  No one who stood Malik face to face could resist him. 

 Malik had to admit that not too many 33 year-old men could still pull off the pretty-boy vibe, and yet here in front of him chanted the exception.  Lamar was 5’11, smooth and light-brown skinned, with sexy, full pink lips trimmed with a light moustache, slim and yet still plenty muscular, though the doctors had stopped him from any further heavy-weight training last year.  His inner strength was what defined Lamar on so many levels, and yet his innate vulnerability was what fueled Malik’s passion for him; from age 6 onward, all Malik ever wanted to be was Lamar’s protector.

 

That goes both ways, Malik thought to himself, staring at Lamar.  I don’t know if I'll survive when-when… 

“Hey, baby...?  You okay?” 

“What...?” Malik blinked as he realized Lamar’s hazel eyes were open, staring at him with a look of mid curiosity.  They’re green this morning, he noted as the sunlight caught Lamar’s face… and his heart beat slightly faster.         

“Malik, are you okay...?” 

Malik shook himself out of the zone he was in, and sat up in bed, smiling at Lamar.  “I was just looking at your sexy self doing the Buddhist thing, got caught up.” 

Lamar blushed. “I know I probably look silly.  It’s just that Winifred Harpo just did a show on the benefits of inner healing through chanting.”  He shrugged.  “It’s worth a shot, right...?”  He uncrossed his legs and began to clamber to his feet. 

In a flash, Malik jumped out the bed and was halfway across the room to help Lamar up, but Lamar held up a hand.  “Dude, give me a break…” he snapped. 

Malik stopped short.  “Sorry,” he mumbled as he watched Lamar slowly pull himself up from the floor, forgiving him the snappy attitude. Each day he moves a little more slowly, Malik thought to himself in horror. 

It had been 3 years since Lamar was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy- HCM for short- a progressive illness that thickened the walls of the heart over time, causing it to lose the ability to beat a normal pace.  In time lack of fresh blood to the lungs would cause increased difficulty with breathing and speaking, energy would drain quickly by the days, and ending up with the patient bedridden, slowly choking on his own air as the ventricular walls finally solidified and stopped to beat.  The victim would then die of axphixiation.  The only chance for survival was a heart transplant… yet Lamar flatly refused to even add his name to the 3-year waiting list, declaring that he would not rob someone else of their chance at life.  Yet Malik held onto hope that Lamar would change his mind about that, especially once he found out what Malik did… just before Malik drove Lamar home from the hospital the morning they found out the tragic news, he secretly pulled Lamar’s doctors aside and authorized Lamar’s name to be added to the donor list.  He knew even then that Lamar would put up one hell of a fight against it once he found out the truth, but he’d hoped that when it was his turn to receive the transplant that Lamar would shut up about it and let it happen. 

In the meantime, Lamar kept up regular doctor’s visits, kept himself as heart-healthy as possible, ate all the right combinations of foods and continued an active lifestyle.  And yet true to the doctor’s initial prognosis, as time wore on it took a bit longer each day for Lamar to start his day.  Around this time Lamar had to literally hold Malik at arms’ length to keep the man from what he called ‘babying’. 

“I can cut my own meat, for chrissakes,” he shouted at Malik the month after they got the bad news, snatching his utensils out of his lover’s reach.  “I'm not bedridden just yet, man.”  Yet three months ago he officially stopped the weekly basketball one-on-one game he played with Malik, who stood by and silently suffered for his love as Lamar bore each disappointing inevitability with quiet grace.  

Then there was the fight over Karl Khronic, Lamar’s alter ego and 3-time Academy Award Winner for Best Screenplay.  Malik desperately pleaded for Lamar to slow down with his numerous deadlines to whip up more award-winning screenplays.  “If the situation was reversed and you were ill, I would never ask you to give up teaching, or running HillTopp Productions,” was Lamar’s continuous defense.  “I would let you do what you need to do to get through the day, I'm not brittle...!” 

Malik would always back down and let Lamar win the independence fight.  As a man he knew full well how he would feel if everyone around him treated him with kid gloves if he were sick- he’d hate it.  Men in particular need to die with masculine dignity.  Malik was unrestrainedly overprotective all the time for just one reason: he loved Lamar with everything in him, mind, body, heart & soul… and his natural reaction was to protect his lover for as long as he could… and anyway, the three years were almost up… the phone could ring bringing Lamar’s secret salvation any day now. 

There came a knock at the door.  “Yes, come in,” Lamar said, finally making it to the edge of the bed and gingerly sitting down.  The door opened and in scampered the only person who wielded complete control over both such famous, powerful men- their 4-year old daughter, Jamara, dressed in her favorite white bunny pajamas, her dark hair held back by matching white bunny barrettes artfully arranged around her cherubic face. 

“How’s my girl today?!?” Lamar bellowed, his arms wide. 

“G’morning, Daddy!!” shrieked Jamara, who flew into his arms as he scooped her up, swinging her around as she laughed.  She was growing into a beautiful child, with her pretty soft curls and big brown eyes, mocha skin and button-cute lips, and a smile that cut deep into the heart.  Only when Jamara was around did Lamar look and act like his old, energetic self.  Whether he was putting on a show for his daughter or whether she actually rejuvenates him, was anyone’s guess, Malik thought.  Outwardly he flung his arms open as well, eyes open in mock surprise.  “Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” 

Quick as a flash she jumped out of Lamar’s arms and flung herself into Malik’s.  She smelled of baby lotion and cinnamon. “Hi Papi,” she giggled. 

Malik started tickling her, making her shriek again with laughter.  Lamar leaned over to join in the fun, and when Jamara burrowed under him to get away from Malik’s tickling fingers, suddenly Lamar began to cough and wheeze, his breath suddenly short.  Jamara stopped laughing, her brown eyes widening with concern. 

“Sophie!” called Malik then, scooping up his daughter into his arms as in seconds the lithe form of Jamara’s nanny came running, dressed in a simple maid’s uniform and apron, her light blond hair done up in a bun. 

“Good morning, sirs,” she nodded quietly, and without another word she stretched out her arms and took the little girl from Malik.  Jamara stared wide-eyed at the coughing Lamar as she was carried out of the suite.  “Call us when she’s ready for pre-school,” Malik called after the retreating forms.  He turned then to the standing cup of water on the bed’s headboard and held it out to Lamar, whose cough had begun to subside. 

Lamar took it gratefully, taking light sips until his breathing returned to normal.  He looked ruefully at Malik, handing him back the water glass.  “This can't go on, man,” he rasped, his voice raw.  “I can't keep doing this.” 

Malik placed the glass back on the headboard, and reached out to grasp Lamar’s hand.  “Hold onto me,” he said gravely, his heart in his dark eyes.  “Take my strength, Mar.” 

Lamar grasped Malik’s hand tightly.  “But you are my strength, Malik.  You’re my life-line.”  He grinned softly.  “I thought you knew.” 

Malik responded by pulling Lamar into his arms, enfolding him into an embrace, Lamar’s head pressing against Malik’s shoulder.  “I-I want to protect you from this, baby,” he hissed vehemently.  “I can't fight this for you.  I can't… beat it up...!!” 

Lamar hesitated, then began to laugh. 

Malik looked down at his suddenly laughing lover, nonplussed.  “Hey, what’s so funny?” 

“I could just see you trying to beat up my heart disease, just like in second grade, the way you tried to beat up that older kid who was teasing me, Billy Diaz, the bully from the fourth grade.  Remember the mud-pie?” 

“Yeah,” Malik said then; “he told me I had to eat it or he would hit you.  You looked so scared, I couldn’t let you get beat up.” 

Lamar shrugged.  “Well, yes, I was scared, but only because he had you up by the scruff.  I didn’t want you to get hurt either.  So…” 

“So while he was trying to smash the mud-pie in my face, you crept up behind him and hit him over the head with a rock,” Malik said then, holding his head in mock remembrance.  “He ran to the teacher screaming; we got in a lot of trouble for that, I remember.  But he never bothered us ever again,” Malik added.  “Bullies.” 

“The point is,” Lamar said as he snuggled back into Malik’s embrace with a soft smile, “we beat him… together.  And we’ll beat this together too.” 

Malik tightened his embrace as silence fell between them, that perfect-moment sort of quiet that only those who have ever really been in love ever felt.  And yet, inside this perfect moment, inside their hearts, both Malik and Lamar felt a dark shadow just beyond their vision, and shivered with fear… wondering how many more of these perfect moments they had left…

******

(clik) 

Michael Donatello, better known to his friends as Kap, shut off his 6 a.m. alarm and turned over in his bunk bed, stretching with a contented yawn.  Laying there silent for a few seconds, he reached for the boxer shorts he had discarded during the night and pulled them onto his naked frame.  His eyes weren’t working yet, but he could find his way to the bathroom if he were unconscious, especially for that morning piss.  Standing to his feet, he crossed the room, passed the other bunk where Marquis slept and opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake his lover up just yet. 

Heading down the hallway to the communal bathroom, he entered, passed the stalls area and was almost to the urinals when he heard what sounded like a wet, slurping sound. 

He froze.  For a second he thought he’d probably imagined it, when suddenly he heard it again- a wet slurp, but this time it was accompanied by a low “Sshhhh.”  Craning his neck, Kap saw that the sounds were coming from the last stall in the corner. 

All thoughts of pissing forgotten, he crept up the aisle to the end corner where the wet noises where coming from, thankful that he was barefoot on the stone floor, which muted his footsteps.  Slowly he inched closer to the stall, where the slurping sounds increased with each step.  He could now make out a whispered groan: 

“Ahhh, yea nigga, down to the base, like dat… damn stop slurpin so loud; I know you want this dick… but damn, you always make too much noise, like e’ery DAY…” 

Shock ran down Kap's spine; he just caught two dudes going at it in the dorm restroom...! 

Just then there was a sound like a released plunger.  “I can't help it, Melo, this dick is too good, and this the only time I get you all to myself; I mean why can't I enjoy it for a minnit...?” came the whispered response. 

Fresh shock flooded through Kap like ice cold water.  MELO...?  Carmelo Johnson, the 6’4, muscle-bound senior, the star Quarterback for the CAL Grizzlies was getting his dick sucked in the men’s dorm bathroom...? 

“Yeah, you better quiet down Hooch,” Melo whispered back, which twisted Kap’s stomach into further surprise- “cause if you can't be silent and suck my dick at the same time, I could find another nicca who will be…” If Kap had heard right, the one doing the sucking was Hooch; a senior, 5’9, skinny and dark-skinned, yet known as the baddest hood dude on campus- the one everyone was afraid of a little.  

“They won’t last the day if I find any other nigga tryin to flex on you,” Hooch growled with dark promise. 

“Then stop that noisy shit!  If we get caught by a dean-” 

“Naw, NAW, I’ll be mo quiet, yo… that’s why I wait here for you every morning man… I love you Melo, only you, my nicca, lemme show you, baby…” and the sounds of tiny kisses filled the area. 

“Damn, you kissin on da dick huh...?  You love me like dat, huh?” Melo breathed; “show me then nicca.”  The slurping sounds continued, only quieter.  “Yeah, that’s wassup Hooch, on da real, you the reason why I get up e’ery morning and leave my girl sleepin… ahhhh, I love you too,” Melo moaned… and then the moans and slurping resumed. 

Kap hesitated, and then tip-toed back to the urinal area, went up to the nearest urinal and then pulled out his dick.  His heart was beating like a trip-hammer; he was so shocked from what he just heard that he didn’t even realize that his dick had reacted to what he had just heard; it was at full-mast, brick-stiff.  He tried his best to calm down, but it was no use, his throbbing dick had a life of its own at the moment.  Now Kap was A-String on the Grizzlies wrestling squad, but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to take on both the NCAA’s top draft pick, along with the one guy on campus who everyone was afraid of, even security; he couldn’t fight off both of them.  He quietly got himself to relax enough so that his stiff dick would soften up, then just as quietly relieved himself, the strong stream of piss hitting the porcelain in such a way as to not cause a sound.  Once finished, Kap crept back out the front door, and pushed it closed behind him. 

Heading back down the hall, Kap let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding most of the time he was in the bathroom.  Wow.  Melo and Hooch… and I didn’t even know they knew each other like that, he thought to himself in awe.  And at 6 am every morning, the hardest thug on campus gives the star quarterback head in the3rd floor  men’s room; vicious head, from the sound of it… wait until ‘Key hears about this one.  At least this goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover.  Meeting in the bathroom though, where anyone can come in at any time… That’s wayyyy too open for me and Marquis to even try… 

During the week Marquis and Kap stayed in Edwards Hall, the upper-classmen men’s dorm on Berkeley’s North campus.  They even got into the habit of sleeping in their own bunk beds while in the dorm, to habitually keep up the pretense.  On the weekends, however, they brought Carmen and Angelina, their girlfriends, to stay with them in a beach house Marquis bought off the Santa Monica coastline- a sprawling, 3-floor whitewashed wood and glass structure that shone like a jewel in the red Dogtown sunsets.  There, to assist in their every function, was Marquis's personal valet, Peterson, along with a few housemaids.  The young heir to the Hill fortune compromised with his mother Marquette Howard, and his older cousins Malik and Lamar when it came time for him to pack for college; as long as Peterson and the other servants never stepped foot on campus, then Marquis can keep hired help at the beach house.  Now the girlfriends, Carmen and Angelina, never complained about the servants; they lapped up the upscale attention.  Kap, on the other hand, never allowed himself to get comfortable with the ostentation, which led to his refusal of allowing Mischa to come to the beach house.  Mischa was the personal valet assigned to a reluctant Kap whenever he stayed over at HillTopp Terrace, the sprawling mansion halfway up Mt. Rainier where Marquis lived with his two cousins, Malik and Lamar, and his baby cousin Jamara.  Marquis was thrilled for being able to give his friends the comforts of home on weekends while being able to enjoy the full college experience during the week like everyone else; everyone, however, put their foot down when Marquis tried to smuggle his semi-grown 4-yr-old pet lion, Leo, to school.  Kap remembered Marquis crying for two days after being told that he had to leave Leo back in Seattle.  Secretly, Kap was relieved; the older cub seemed to have developed a taste for flesh after mauling Lamar’s mother, and being in such proximity to beach-clad bodies might not be the smart thing to do for a growing carnivore… 

Being college students, roommates and lovers for the past three years made life very interesting for both young men.  The fact that they as two best friends were dating two best friends actually kept their cover straight, but there were some moments that they were almost caught showing too much affection for each other; this is what made Marquis buy beachfront property two and 1\2 hours away from the school, after their first semester at Berkeley.  This kept the dual romances they held solid and private, for no one would dare ask to tag along on the weekend getaway for two long-term couples. 

Kap reached the bedroom and went inside, just itching to tell Marquis the scoop he just witnessed, and then stopped dead in his tracks.  Marquis’s bed was rumpled with bed quilts and pillows, but Marquis himself was gone. 

“It’s not even 6:15 yet,” Kap said then, bemused.  “Where the hell is he?” 

Looking around, he saw that Marquis's white bathrobe and slippers were gone from where he had kicked them off last night.  Then Kap noticed that his schoolbooks were gone as well.  But he doesn’t have a test this morning, Kap wondered to himself. 

Then a frown darkened his light brown eyes.  Turning to put on his slippers this time, he reversed pace and headed this time for the study room on the roof.  As he passed the restroom again he almost collided with a tall figure coming into the hallway. 

A bass voice interrupted the quiet.  “Whoa bruh, where’s the fire,” Melo said- tall, light cocoa brown-skinned, thick muscles rippling all over his extremely sexy body. 

“Sorry Melo, gotta bounce- uhh, good morning,” Kap called behind himself as he quickened his pace up the hallway towards the roof stairwell. 

“Good morning,” Melo smiled lingeringly after Kap, watching the man’s finely-chiseled legs run upstairs.  Melo absently grabbed onto his spent dick, which began to twitch again. 

There was a creak behind the big man then.  “Who was that?” a low voice whispered from inside the bathroom door. 

“There goes the only nicca I'm REALLY thinkin about when I bust off in yo mouf, bitch,” Melo said then, laughing as he strode off towards the west side of the dorm, where the football team lived. 

Slowly the door opened up and into the hallway stepped a slim, dark-skinned, short guy, dressed in a black DuRag and black wife-beater, shaking with silent tears.  “Dats iight, be like dat,” Hooch said then, “cause I'm gonna find out who dat was and I'm gonna put my goddamn blade in his throat.  See if dat bitch could take yo dick then, mufucka!!”  And then he crept off towards his room.

******

Kap bounced up the last of the stairs and crept up to the doors, which had built-in viewing windows to prevent accidental crashes.  A side perk of this was that anyone standing just inside could see right across the walkway into the study room- a renovated greenhouse, replacing rows of plants with study tables and plushy chairs with mood lighting underneath the glass roof.  Kap knew that studying up there always made Marquis feel like home, with the large ceilings and glass walls and endless tables, chairs and lights.  Peering closer, Kap could just make the outline of two figures huddled close over a pile of books on the nearest table.  He recognized Marquis right away; of course he knew his best friend anywhere… and sitting next to him was… 

Kap’s teeth bared back in a snarl.  “I knew it… Jake...!!!” 

Jacques ‘Jake’ ReVanche, the 19 yr old, medium brown-skinned, 6 ft tall sophomore, he was a Pre-Chem Major and a World History Minor; having studied abroad on the whim of his extremely wealthy family… he dressed so Euro-couture he could have passed for a fashion model; and then there were his perfect, manor-born manners, and (surprise, surprise) the only other person in the whole school besides Marquis to bring along a personal valet.  From Jake’s freshman year (Marquis and Kap were Sophomores at the time) he latched onto Marquis like a life-preserver, and Marquis opened up his friendship circle to include him.  The two bluebloods had only two classes together: Archeology 301 and Botany Science 301, which happened to be Marquis's most favorite class this semester.  And since Arch 301 wasn’t on Kap’s curriculum and Botany Science was held at the same time each week as wrestling practice, Kap couldn’t be there.. and Jake was the perfect classmate- and study partner- for Marquis. 

 

Kap wanted to kill him.  Bash in that perfect nose, break that perfect profile… 

He stared at the two of them huddled together in the early morning light, as comfortable with each other as if they had been brothers.  It was that, more than any other reason, which made Kap hate Jake with a fiery passion; they just looked more at ease with each other than Kap ever felt with Marquis. 

He slowly turned and walked back down the steps.  It was the money that bonded them, he speculated.  Both Marquis and Jake grew up with it, embraced it, made it part of their daily functions.  Kap, having no money of his own and also sporting a colossal chip on his shoulder about the fact that his best friend had much more than he, naturally shied away from such riches, even though he was free to take what he liked; indeed he had a right by virtue of the ruby family crest the Hill family gave him for his high school graduation.  At first he thought that it was just a ceremonial jewel that he got a chance to wear out of loyalty to the family, but it was explained to him by Lamar’s father, Detective Dan, that besides it being a pretty kick-ass piece of jewelry, the Hill family jewel actually entitled him to draw from the general Hill bank accounts, which are located in major banks across the world; anytime he wanted, all he had to do was just show the jewel to a bank manager, and money is handed over in the amount requested, no questions asked.  But he had never used the privilege; he would be got-damned if anyone thought he hung around Marquis just to get money; he was no social-climbing gold-digger, no WAY!!!  Deep down, however, he felt that Jake thought as much, it was the accusatory way he looked at Kap sometimes… and Kap hated himself for letting that jerk get to him. 

And then there were those small comments that Jake (secretly called by Kap the French Flake) made to Kap when Marquis wasn’t really listening, bringing home the fact that Jake here and there, he would slip something nasty in under his breath to make Kap’s blood boil, causing him to lash out at the boy… which made Marquis immediately jump to his rescue.  This constant defense of Jake strained things between the two men for the first time in their lives… and to Kap it seemed that ol F.F. couldn’t have been more pleased about it.  Angelina, Kap’s girlfriend and future fiancée, didn’t see the harm of Jake hanging around; yet she wasn’t around the guys enough to get a good assessment of the situation in Kap’s opinion. Her devotion to her studies seemed almost holy.  This, of course, began to cut into her time with both himself and Carmen, her best friend and secret lover.  Kap found himself starting to wonder if they really were all meant to be, and if so, why did it start to look like everyone was moving in a different direction...? 

He reached the dorm-room and, going inside, shut the door behind him and decided to siphon off some stress.  He was on his seventh set of crunches when the door opened. 

“Good morning,” Marquis said brightly as he came into the room.  Kap was about to cut into his last set and jump up to kiss his lover when he heard a second voice murmur, “Bonjour, monsieur Michael.” 

This made Kap stiffen slightly in his routine.  How DARE Marquis bring this kat into their room early in the morning...?  He finished his set and then sat up to scowl at Marquis and Jake.  “What u say to me...?” he growled at Jake. 

“He said good morning,” Marquis said then, the brightness in his voice fallen.  “Please don’t start, its not even 7 am yet,” he groaned, heading into the walk-in closet. 

“Awww, ze little baby found something tu cry about already...?  Tsk, tsk,” smirked Jake, once Marquis was out of earshot.  Kap jumped to his feet then, murder in his eyes. 

Jake’s eyebrows rose from the implicit threat, and a slow, evil smile crossed his lips.  “Do it, Monsieur crybaby,” he challenged in that French drawl which so irritated Kap; “if you’ve got ze guts…” 

Kap’s hands clenched into fists as Marquis came striding out of the walk-in.  “Are you two getting along yet?” he asked half-hopingly. 

Quick as lightning Jake’s evil grin of challenge became softer, more docile.  “Oh, nous sommes parfaits, sont nous non?” he said to Kap in rapid French. 

“Uhhh, he said you two are fine; aren’t you...?”  Marquis interpreted.  Kap could only react in quiet shock as Marquis sighed then, the matter apparently settled to his satisfaction.  “Well then, let’s go down to the café,” he proclaimed to Jake and Kap, “we might see our girlfriends there by now; they get up early sometimes before heavy test days.” 

“Actually, ‘Key, can I talk to you for a minute,” Kap interjected then, a tone of seriousness in his voice. 

Marquis looked at him.  “Uhh, sure, no problem.”  He turned to Jake.  “You go on without us, ok?  And tell the girls to hold us a couple of seats.” 

Jake hesitated, then gave what Kap felt was the most fake smile he’d ever seen.  “Avec plaisir, mon ami,” he said, heading for the door and stepping out into the hall, closing the door behind him. 

“He said-” 

“Never mind what he said,” Kap interjected, grabbing Marquis by the shoulders and leaning over to kiss him.  Marquis just let him, not responding. 

Kap pulled back, stung.  “What’s your deal, man...?” 

“What’s your deal,” Marquis retorted.  “What was that kiss for really?” 

“Well, usually it means ‘good morning’ to the love of my life,” Kap said dryly; “what do you think it meant?” 

“Well, I dunno,” Marquis said with an accusatory glare, “it sort of seemed like you were marking your territory.” 

“…Marking my territory...?  With who, you?” 

“No, not me,” replied Marquis tonelessly.  “That seemed like you were sending a message… to Jake.” 

“You think I'm flexing on ‘French-Flake’ Jake...?” he scoffed. 

“I asked you not to call him that,” Marquis growled. 

“Aww, come ON, Marquis, you cannot seriously be always defending him!  He’s not 5 years old...!” Kap gesticulated in anger. 

Marquis lifted his head in noble defiance.  “Hey- I can't help if a youngin happens to look up to us; we’re upperclassmen, man.  It’s our responsibility to-” 

“Its our responsibility to get drunk, party hard and get good grades in our majors so that we can graduate together...!” Kap pressed his finger into Marquis's chest.  “Or do the promises we made to each other not matter anymore?” 

Marquis grabbed the finger being pressed into his chest, yanking it away.  “Of course our promises are important to me.  I don’t like it when you attack Jake, is all; he’s my friend, even if you don’t like him.” 

“There was a time that you didn’t like anyone I didn’t like, and vice versa,” Kap reminded him grimly. 

“We grew up; at least I did,” Marquis threw at Kap. 

Kap was shocked at Marquis’s last statement; Marquis saw the hurt written all over his face.  “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“You know what, why don’t you go on and have breakfast with Jake and the girls, I lost my appetite.”  And before Marquis could react Kap headed for the hallway, opening and slamming the door shut. 

Marquis stood there, staring at the door.  Then silently he crossed over to the slightly battered door, went into the hallway and quietly closed the door behind him.