#also percy

           It was meant to be a nice dinner out at Pancho Sanza’s. The food wasn’t much to speak of, in Bram’s opinion, but it was better than anything on campus, and this was where they’d met. It was their six-month anniversary after all. Bram would never have pegged himself as the sentimental type, but that was before Ray. He was a complete sap when it came to Ray, and it was surprisingly nice to have someone to be a giant mushy mess all over. In private, of course. PRIVATE. Percy, for one, would never have let him hear the end of it if they knew. And Ray likely would have wanted to know the significance of six months in the human courtship ritual calendar, and would be perplexed that there really wasn’t one.

           So Bram hadn’t mentioned it to Ray and definitely hadn’t brought it up with Percy. But he knew it had been six months to the day that Ray had come into his life, and he wanted to mark the occasion. Of course, everyone else was marking the occasion of yesterday’s grand moopsball triumph over Wexler University (never mind that they were relatively new to the college-level moopsball competition; any victory was celebrated as if it were the end of the world).

           Thus Pancho Sanza’s was packed near to bursting. At this point, Percy worked pickup shifts, covering for people who were out and coming in when the extra help was needed (as well as doing some scouting work for the occasional raid on the competition – the Generalissimo took corporate warfare a bit literally). Since the place was overflowing with rowdy college students, Percy was running their ass off.

           Bram sighed. “Well, this was never going to be a quiet evening, but I’m sorry it’s this loud,” he all but screamed to Ray, who was sitting right next to him in the booth.

           “I have no idea what you said, but I’m sure I agree,” Ray replied.

           Bram couldn’t help chuckling. He was thinking about flagging Perse down for a spare notepad of paper, like the kind the servers used, so they could pass notes like idiot schoolchildren, but then someone walked up to the table.

           “Well, look who we have here.”

           Bram’s first reaction was Oh great. His second reaction was He still looks good, and his third reaction was, How the great bloody hell can he make himself heard over this?

           It was Chad Willingham, one of the most popular blokes on campus. Bram had no idea why: he didn’t play sports, he wasn’t involved in student government or in rebelling against student government. He was renowned mostly for the sheer number of sexual conquests he had, and Bram had, unfortunately, been one of them.

           But popular he was and there was a certain privilege that seemed to go along with popularity: when Chad spoke, people listened. So when Chad stood there at the end of their table and announced himself like that, the crowd noise dimmed somewhat. Everyone wanted to hear what Chad had to say.

           And what Chad had to say was, “The two worst lays on campus hanging out together? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

           The crowd noise died entirely at that. Completely silent. Which didn’t really surprise Bram, because he was certainly speechless. What could he say to that? That he’d been only one step removed from a virgin at that point? It didn’t bother him that Ray had apparently slept with Chad, because, dammit, virtually everyone had. (Except for Percy, who had declared him beneath their standards.)

           But Ray just smiled over the remnants of their fajitas. “I find it strange to hear you say that.”

           Chad snorted. “Why? Did you think you were some sort of sex god?”

           “I do not think I’m any sort of deity, no. But I also do not believe you are.”

           That seemed to sting Chad’s pride. “Ask around.”

           “I have no need to. As you have intimated, I have experienced your talents first hand.” Ray rose to his feet with that otherworldly grace that always made Bram marvel. He was looking Chad straight in the eye. “I find it strange to hear you qualify Bram and I as ‘the worst lays on campus’ – meaning the worst sexual partners you’ve had – because you hardly put forth any testing, rigorous or otherwise.”

           There was some quiet chuckling rippling through the background at that. But Ray wasn’t finished.

           He continued, in that steady, even voice, “You have valued quantity over quality, and because of that, you have only spent the single night with me. I assume it was the same for you, Bram?” He looked to him for confirmation, and Bram could only nod. Ray’s voice carried through the restaurant as he returned his attention to Chad. “So you could not truly know the scope of our sexual capabilities.

           “Yes, I am with Bram. We have been together for exactly six months now, and they have been wonderful. Bram has chosen to get to know me and to let me know him. He has taken the effort to know what pleases me – sexually and otherwise,” Bram could feel his face heating, “and is happy to perform these tasks. I, in turn, have tried to reciprocate.

           “Bram has made me happier and brought me more satisfaction than you or anyone else in my acquaintance.” Ray stared the interloping Chad down and declared, “I neither sought nor want your opinion on my or my boyfriend’s sexual talents. It is unnecessary. Bram and I each achieved orgasm three times last night.”

           There was hooting and hollering at that, but all Bram could do was mutter, “You counted. Of course you bloody counted,” as he dropped his head into his hands.

           There was a smile in Ray’s voice as he replied soothingly, “The data was important to me.” And Bram smiled like an idiot behind his hands because Ray always said that and what he always meant by it was that Bram was important to him, and it made his breath short and his heart race.

           Ray’s voice was back to being strident as he said, “I seem to recall you, Chad, were more the… what’s the term for ‘reaching climax once and then falling asleep’?”

           “‘One and done’?” Bram suggested, finally lifting his head.

           “Yes, that. One and done.” The crowd seemed to enjoy that, but Ray was focused on Chad. “You value quantity over quality. As such, I would not expect you to be able to properly evaluate anyone’s sexual quality – not mine, not Bram’s, and, most likely, definitely not your own.”

           Bram was glad that he’d raised his head because he saw it. He saw the anger flashover in Chad’s body language. He didn’t appear to be armed, wearing a pink polo shirt and tight jeans, but if there was one thing Bram had learned about life at IOU it was Never Assume You’re Safe.

           Where Ray had risen slowly and elegantly, Bram shot to his feet, the gatling handcannon already in his hand and pointed straight at Chad. The end of the barrel was almost right up against the asshole’s nose. “Try it,” he said tightly. “They’ll be wringing your face out of a mop at the Health Center to put it back together again. We’ll see if nacho cheese and tequila where portions of your brains used to be help your GPA any.”

           Chad paled but stood his ground for one second, two… then sneered and headed for the door. Loud cheers broke out through the crowd as Bram reholstered his gun and resumed his seat.

           Ray sat down next to him and leaned over to kiss his temple. “Thank you for protecting me, Bram.”

           “Thanks for standing up for me, Ray.” Then he recalled something Ray had said. “You remembered that it’s our six month anniversary?”

           “Is that not why we’re here?” Ray asked, sounding adorably confused.

           “Well, yes, but I didn’t realize you were so sentimental.”

           “I always knew you were,” was Ray’s answer, and Bram was blushing again. Ray just leaned in and kissed him, and Bram was practically giddy with happiness.

           And then, of course, as bloody always, there was Percy. “Nice job, you two! The Generalissimo is so impressed, he’s giving you a pineapple sundae on the house for the free entertainment!” They set the dish – and two spoons – down on the table in front of them.

           “Why is there a grenade in it?” Ray asked.

           “That’s the pineapple,” Bram groaned at the same time that Percy said it (though their tone was far more chipper).

           “And, correct me if I’m wrong,” Percy leaned in a little and dropped their voice (would wonders never cease?!), “but don’t you need to wind that clockwork monstrosity before you use it?”

           Bram grinned. “Yes, but he didn’t know that.”

           Percy laughed and stood up again. “Go on, eat up. Don’t forget to pull the pin first!”

           Ray reached for it, but Bram clasped both his hands over Ray’s. “Thank the Generalissimo for us, but we should get our check and get going.”

           “Awww.” Perse pouted. “But if you manage to finish it before it goes off, you get your name and photo on the Wall of Fame!”

           “You mean that completely empty section of wall there?” Ray asked.

           “It’s not empty!” Percy replied.

           “Blood splatters don’t count,” Bram muttered. “And that’s a type of fame I can do without, thanks.”

           Percy snickered. “I guess it is better to be known as Mr. Three-Times-A-Night.”

           Ray replied, “Sometimes more. I just cited the most recent dataset and…”

           Bram stood. “Right, time to go. Percy, put it on my tab, will you? I’ll settle up next time I’m in.”

           But Ray pulled him back down. “We have a free treat. We can eat around the pineapple if you don’t like it. But I would like to stay and celebrate properly.”

           Bram smiled. “Dammit, you know I have trouble saying no to that smile.”

           Percy beamed. “Happy Anniversary!” they sing-songed as they waltzed off to another table.