Scott woke up before Hunter and lay there for a minute in his arms. He hated having to leave, but he had to get his day started. He got up quietly, careful not to wake Hunter as he fished for his boxers in the dark. He wanted to kiss Hunter goodbye, but he was sleeping so peacefully, it seemed a shame to disturb him. He would just text him later and set something else up. It seemed too good to be true: a hot, geeky guy who was good in the sack. Scott was kicking himself for judging Hunter too harshly when he saw him stripping at Cocktail. Hunter seemed like a decent guy.

Heading down Halsted in search of a decent cup of coffee, Scott could swear that someone was following him. He shook it off as the bustle of the post rush hour crowd as he hit up the Kickstand for an Americano. As he grabbed a lid from the service bar, a lanky effeminate man with oily hair bumped into him, almost deliberately

"Excuse me," said Scott, not going a good job masking his annoyance.

"No worries," said oily femme. As Scott made his way to the door, oily femme grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute! I recognize you!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, I saw you at The Pitstop last night. With Hunter."

"You know Hunter?"

"Who doesn't? Boy gets around."

"Right. Well, thanks for the heads up, but I really should get... "

"You two hooked up last night didn't you? How far... ?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"You're right," smirked oily femme, dramatically throwing his scarf around his neck with a flourish. "It's not. I just hope you wrapped it up. Wouldn't want him leaving you the same lifelong ‘gift' he gave me." Oily femme headed for the door.

"Wait. What are you talking about?"

"Next time you see him," oily femme said, stepping out the door. "Tell him Daryl said hi." And he was gone.

*

"It doesn't really mean anything," Ralph said, ringing up Hunter's purchases of the final issue of Spider-Men and X-Factor #244.

"It's a pattern, Ralph," Hunter insisted. "The last two guys I've hooked up with have just slipped out while I was sleeping."

"That's no more a pattern than Scott Summers and his thing for telepaths."

"And we all know how that turns out. Somehow, no matter what, it gets all Dark Phoenix."

"Scott is a nice guy."

"Dude, he divided the mutant population and constantly leads his half like a militant army."

"Hipster Scott, not Cyclops."

"Right."

"I'm sure sometime tonight he'll text or... " The front door of Chicago Comics opened and in stepped Scott. They both looked at him but his eyes were fixed on Hunter. Scott was looking right through him, his jaw clenched with rage. He shook his head and walked out. Hunter ran after him.

"Scott! Wait!" Scott stopped dead in his tracks, paused, then turned around, the same look of fear and daggers still in his eyes.

"Daryl says hi," was all he could manage.

"What the fuck?"

"Ran into him at a coffee shop. Saw us together last night. Had lots to say."

"I bet he did. He's been trying to fuck up my life forever. Listen, he's full of shit, he's a coked up has-been drag queen, you can't believe... "

"So you didn't give him some life threatening disease?"

Hunter's blood ran cold. "What exactly did he tell you?"

Scott took two steps closer to Hunter. "I'd rather hear what you're not telling me."

Hunter grew quiet for a moment. Sweat started to form on his brow as he tried to form words. "With Daryl, it wasn't... he was in a car accident, he needed a blood transfusion. It wasn't detectable when I volunteered. Hell, it's barely detectable now."

"Fucking Christ."

"My T-Cells are still up. I'm on the latest meds. My doctor says that you wouldn't even know... " He stopped, having not said it aloud to anyone besides his doctor in a long time.

"Fucking say it."

"... you wouldn't even know I was positive."

A cab passed. Crowds clad in blue and red heckled and hollered their way up Clark street up towards Wrigley Field. A pair of goth teens left The Alley, arguing about something or other. Not a word was said between Scott and Hunter.

"You should've told me."

"You were never at risk. I made sure we didn't do anything that would've... "

"You should have FUCKING TOLD ME."

Hunter grew indignant. "You never fucking asked." Scott shook his head and walked away. This is why Hunter didn't do this. The dating thing. The hookup thing. It was all too fucking complicated. What was the point anyway? Eventually he'd...

Out of nowhere, Tyler came up, wearing that goddamn HRC t-shirt and clipboard. He looked at Hunter, who was still too hurt and incensed to wonder how much Tyler had heard. This is what happened when he opened himself up to someone, even just a little bit. He gets stepped on, he gets abandoned, he gets even more broken then he started. That's why Hunter never trusted anyone.

Then Tyler hugged him in the middle of the street. There were no tears, there were no words. Tyler just held him. And Hunter held him back.

###