“You shouldn’t have,” Rachel said. Her brown-and-green eyes, however, were making wolf-whistles and ‘awooga’ sounds, all focused on the home-made pizza Ran had put in front of her. He’d found his culinary spirit in college, and by golly was he going to indulge in it. He realized with a pang of guilt that he probably wouldn’t be doing so if he lived on his own, but being able to present people (well, Rachel, mostly) with his experiments was a large part of the fun. The guilt was there mostly because he felt it was a bit manipulative, that it was the only thing he had to offer. Oh well. 

“Meh, I saw the recipe online and after sifting through the woman’s life story the actual pizza seemed pretty good.” That was mostly true. He actually had a folder of saved recipes, but acknowledging enjoying humming to himself in the kitchen felt… off, somehow. Like it was something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. “And I’m not going to finish something like this on my own anyway.”

“Regardless, thank you,” Rachel said, licking her lips with anticipation as Ran struggled with the pizza cutter. Experientially, when actually enjoying his food, he was getting to a point where both smell and taste were really getting up there. But he really needed to work on his presentation. “Oh, and thanks for this morning, by the way.”

“Think nothing of it,” Ran said. He did enough of the thinking for the two of them. 

“Yeah, but I probably should have been there.” Rachel awkwardly bit her lip. “Sorry. I hope Cindy wasn’t too much trouble?”

“Cynthia. And no, she was perfectly fine, actually. She was very nice.” Ran divided the slices and sat down, then stood back up, scurried to the fridge. “Wine?”

Rachel had a string of cheese stretched from her teeth to the slice of pizza in her hand, looked at it, and then at Ran. “Yef pleave.” She chewed and swallowed. “I’m glad. I don’t think I’ll be seeing her much anymore, though.”

“Oh?” Ran asked. Not that he minded that much. Not that the girl herself had been a problem, of course. The platinum-blonde had been nice enough, if a bit dismissive, when she’d left the house in the morning. She seemed like the type to have a tall, jock-y boyfriend, so her coming out of Rachel’s room had been something of a surprise, but it was mostly the fact that it was a new person again. In the weeks since Rachel and he had moved into the place, there had been a string of girls, with only a few regulars. It made him feel weird.

“Yeah. A little too proud of her ‘heritage’, if you catch my meaning.” Ran grimaced as he poured them both a glass of wine. He’d looked up the best pairing for what he’d been preparing, but they only had boxed white wine, so he didn’t even know why he’d bothered. 

“Yikes. Yeah, I can see it.” He paused for a moment as he finally sat down for real, before picking up his own food. “Regrets?”

Rachel looked up in that ‘let me think for a moment’-kind of way, chewing slowly. She wasn’t exactly the epitome of grace, but he still couldn’t help but admire her. Her flowing brown hair, her soft jawline, her easy-going smile. Like summer in a dress. “Yes and no,” she finally said.

“I mean, not that I’m judging,” Ran said, carefully, “but if you go through that many, you’re bound to, right?”

“Oh,” Rachel said, not offended in the slightest, “I have no regrets about the quantity of partners. It’s the quality I’m concerned with.”

“Heh,” Ran said, and then hid behind his glass. Something about the ease with which Rachel went out and came home with a random girl on weekends just really rubbed him the wrong way, even though it always seemed to be consensual. At least twice now he’d seen a girl from his class come out of that door. In that same time, he had considered the possibility of finding someone and dating maybe once or twice. He never really decided to start dating, anyway. He just… ended up in relationships unintentionally. Selling himself was not a skill he’d picked up. “You ever consider settling down with one of them? You’ve got your pick of the litter, right?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel said, leaning on her hand and swirling the wine in her glass. “Like, a couple of them are really nice. Amelia -- you met her -- is really cool. But I don’t know. I can’t see myself sticking to just the one person, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Ran lied. 

“Not in like an ‘I have to cheat’ kind of way. Dunno. There’s so many wonderful people out there and there’s so much of me to give. Besides,” Rachel said, taking a sip and then diving back at the pizza, “I can’t help how quickly I fall in love.”

“Haha, yeah,” Ran said. He could relate to that bit, at least, trying not to notice Rachel looking at him. She had a way of looking at him that made him feel like turning inside out. Why’d she have to look at him like that on a line like that? Was it just his discomfort? Was she zeroing in on it? Would she recognize his internalized homophobia and call him out? 

“Anyway,” Rachel said, “thanks for not being weird…” She looked at him over her glass and winked. “Well, too weird.” This time he laughed for real. The first few days they’d lived together, they’d sat down and shared embarrassing stories and interests, with the idea of breaking the ice. Ran also suspected that she’d been trying to gauge him, to see if there were any red flags. He’d done the same with her, in any case. But they both liked board games, 60s sitcoms and truly absurd Eastern European YouTube videos, and after spending at least two nights giggle-snorting until they were out of breath on the sofa, they had agreed to keep the other’s cursed sense of humour a secret. 

“I do my best,” he said, and that part was entirely true, at least. He had to do his best, because he didn’t want to be too weird around her. She was genuinely cool and sure, the way he felt strangely giddy around her was easy enough to suppress, but he didn’t want his discomfort with her bringing home girl after girl to affect the way he acted around her. “How’s the pizza?”

“You’re a monster,” Rachel said casually. “You know how good this is.”

“Nu-uh,” he said, taking another bite of his admittedly fantastic first attempt. “I need to hear it from your m-- from you.”

“Well, it’s better than… hmm… No, but it’s almost as good as sex.”

“Looks like I need to step up my game then,” Ran said, before realizing how what he said could be interpreted. “Uh, about the food, I mean.”

“You’re cute when you blush like that,” Rachel said with a smirk. Ran was about to retort -- or try to, anyway -- when his phone buzzed. He made a face when he saw the sender. “What’s up?” Rachel asked. 

“Dean,” he said, sourly. He’d complained about his old friend from high-school before. 

“Ah,” Rachel said. “Tell him to eat a dick?” 

“Apparently,” Ran said, moving on with a smirk, “he’s changing schools? Something about being unhappy with how much college here is, and I quote, ‘full of libs.’” Ran frowned as he sent a message back, wishing him the best and all that. 

“Good riddance, to be honest.” Rachel got up and took the empty plates to the sink and started rinsing them off. He couldn’t blame her for not liking Dean. Ran had only ever really complained about him, so she never really got to know him for his redeeming qualities, like… uh…

He got a text back, asking him how things were going with Rachel. Well, it was stuff like that. Dean, at least when they were younger, had often been concerned for Ran, had tried to help him get a girlfriend when he’d been down. Friend stuff. Now that they were in college, Ran couldn’t help but wonder if that had been because Dean was just worried he’d caught the gay or something. 

‘It’s going well,’ Ran sent back. ‘Just finished dinner. I cooked so she’s doing the dishes.’ It was an arrangement they had that worked out well. Not even something they’d ever verbally agreed on. Rachel just didn’t let him help her with the dishes if he’d cooked. The first time he’d tried insisting she’d gently led him to the living room, had shoved a praline in his hand, and that had been that.

His phone vibrated again. ‘You know she’s gay, right? Not bi or anything lmao’ 

Ran rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, Dean. She’s gay.’ He was acutely aware of the fact that Rachel wasn’t into men. He was distinctly trying not to make a big deal out of it. He knew she would never date a guy. 

‘Then she’s not gonna bang you, my dude. Stop trying so hard,’ was the response.

‘We live together, dipshit. I can make food for my roommate, even if she takes someone else home or whatever,’ he sent back, typing furiously. He reached for his glass of wine and then thought better of it. Tipsy, he’d be dragging this conversation out all night. 

‘lol simp. make sure to put more soy in your food.’

‘wtf does that even mean’ Ran had to resist just turning his phone off. If Dean was really leaving, then he had to at least try to have a conversation with him, no matter how infuriating his once-best-friend was. 

‘google it,’ Dean’s answer said. 

“I swear to god,” Ran said out loud, “if he wasn’t leaving I’d shit in his breakfast.”

“That bad?” Rachel asked as she grabbed the dish towel. Ran just squeezed his eyes shut and nodded before typing up a reply. 

‘w/e. it doesn’t really bother me she’s into girls. just makes me feel weird,’ he sent back. Maybe confessing and being vulnerable would pull Dean’s head out of his own ass and allow them to have an actual connection for a moment. 

‘ofc it makes you feel weird my dude. lesbians can’t procreate. its basic biology.’

‘yes, dean. i’m concerned about biology. no, u tool, i guess it just mkes me feel a bit sad a girl like that’s never gonna look at me the way she looks at other girls, yknow?’

‘lmao’

“That’s it,” Ran said. “I’m done.” He looked at his phone, and typed one more message. ‘Bye dean.’ He turned his phone off and shoved it into his pocket. 

“I don’t know why you even kept him around,” Rachel said as she put the last of the cutlery away, and then tossed the dish towel over her shoulder to land perfectly on the faucet. She glanced over her shoulder and then gave a little dorky fist-pump before turning back to him. 

“He was my only friend growing up,” Ran said, shrugging as he refilled both their glasses. “I guess I just hoped there was something there worth preserving, you know?”

Rachel nodded. “I know what you mean. There’s a lot of shit we grew up with to unlearn and not everyone manages.” She smiled as she led the way to the living room. “It just goes faster if you’re queer. Sometimes.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Growing up gay you have to do a lot of soul-searching, y’know?” she explained as she threw herself into the sofa and started typing on her laptop. He hovered around the edge of the living room until she patted the seat next to her. “Sit. You need comedy therapy.”

He hid his smile as he sat down next to her. “I wouldn’t know,” Ran said. “It never came up much when I was a kid, I guess. But I’m learning as fast as I can.”

“And doing a great job of it.” 

“Can I ask you a question? You know, about the queer thing?”

“You can always ask me about gay shit,” Rachel said with a wise nod. 

“You ever thought about having kids?” he asked. 

Her eyebrows went up and she blew out air for a moment. “Woof, okay. That’s a… phwoar. Yeah, I guess so. If I found the right girl, yeah.”

“So like, adoption?”

Rachel shrugged. “If I had to, I suppose.”

“What do you mean? I mean, like… lesbians can’t get each other pregnant, haha.” 

“Oh, honey,” Rachel said with a completely indecipherable smile. “You have no idea.”