AN: Jeepers, it's been a while. It's so weird reading old writing. Actually, I wrote this chapter years ago and never published it. Some favorites and followers recently reminded me that I owed you guys this at least... which may or may not give me obligation to write more. I don't even know if I ship this pairing anymore even. XD But yeah maybe in my free time.

"We need to talk."

Randy narrowed his eyes, pretending that he wasn't just a little unnerved at Nate's sudden recovery. "What do you want, dweeb? Why the hell did you break into my house?" Was he actually trying to steal something?

Nate sighed, sitting up. "I want what you stole from me," he deadpanned, eyelids drooping. He was so tired. It was unbelievable. He should never have let himself fall asleep like that, it only made him look like an idiot. Wonderful. More blackmail. He couldn't help but glance around the room though. It was pretty cluttered, but nowhere near as messy as his own bedroom. A few snack wrappers and comic books scattered on the floor… Randy likes comics? 'Course he would.

Randy grabbed his shoulder, snapping his fingers for attention. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about," he ground out. "I didn't steal anything from you, just go home." He looked away, feeling frustrated. There was a part of him that wanted Nate's company. Nate was funny, interesting… And, He actually did want to know why Nate would go so far as to… Randy frowned. Nate hadn't even moved yet.

"If you give it to me, I'll leave," Nate whispered seriously. His eyes were fire in the dark.

Randy met his gaze, and found himself unable to look away. "Fine," he spat out, gritting his teeth. Walking over to the trash bin, Randy fumbled around, until he retrieved the crumpled comic.

"Here." He angrily thrust the ball into Nate's hand. "That's all I took, I swear."

Nate frowned, as he slowly flattened out the crumpled paper, eyes scanning over it briefly. His frown deepened. Then he sighed, handing it back to Randy. "That's what you took?" He sounded so disappointed, Randy was almost sorry he'd admitted it. He grimaced, shrugging. "Yeah. I dunno why though. It's stupid. You're a terrible artist anyways."

To his surprise, Nate only laughed and rolled his eyes. "Of course it's stupid. I mean, it is about you, after all— You and your ugly face, they nearly gave me hand cramps trying to make it so ugly."

"Says the freak who tries to break into my house to steal it. You should write a stupid comic about that."

Nate shrugged. "Maybe I will." He paused. "Hey, was that what you were laughing about earlier?" He gestured to the comic in Randy's hand. It was still wrinkled, and a bit torn at one end.

Randy shrugged in return. "You're a dork."

"Idiot."

"Weirdo."

"Wannabe."

"I am not! If anyone, you're the wannabe, always trying to be "cool", like... Marcus, or whatever!"

"So you're basically on my level then," Nate grinned.

Shit, why did Nate have to be so good at trash talking?

Nate continued, taking advantage of his upper hand. "You think you're so cool, just because you have your stupid posse. They're not actually your friends though. I bet you have to pay them or something. Or maybe they're all wimps, afraid that you'll beat them up. On that aspect, I'm above you, because I actually have friends."

Randy was silent after that, and Nate stood up, forcing Randy to take a step back. Was this actually happening? It was hard to believe.

"You really are stupid, you know," Nate said, taking a step towards Randy, to which he stepped back again. "I bet any of the members of your posse would be smarter that you. I'm smarter than you, and you know it!"

Randy growled. Enough was enough. Time to play the card. "You actually think you're smarter than me?" He asked quietly, dangerously, meeting Nate's eyes.

Nate returned his gaze, before suddenly getting into his face. "I know I am," he smirked, being way too close. Randy couldn't step back without hitting the wall. He was also way too tired to be getting violent. He closed his eyes and sighed, reaching out and pushing Nate back. Not yet. Now isn't the time. "Well, I guess we can see what Jenny, Artur, Francis and Gina think." He rubbed his chin. "Or, we could ask anyone really."

"I doubt you would ask Jenny," Nate muttered quietly. He sounded less certain, however.

"I will."

"Then give me the note," Nate pressed suddenly. What? Not this again… "I won't leave until you do. I know you have it."

Truthfully, Randy was tired. Very, very tired. He didn't have time for this. He didn't have time to think. He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Give me a moment." He'd thrown out the note he'd written earlier, thinking he wouldn't need it. Think of something. Quick. Randy looked around. Paper. Now. He knelt down next to his bed, looking underneath. Gum wrappers, homework… No. Those wouldn't work. Or… Randy slid under the bed, grasping at his last hope. It was a… He squinted. Sudoku? Fine, it would work.

grabbing a conveniently placed misshapen pen, He jotted down a—

"Hey, hurry up!" Nate's whiney voice complained from above him. "What are you even doing?" Randy winced, both startled and annoyed, but managed to finish.

"Whatever. XOX, Jenny."

He pulled out from under the bed as quickly as possible.

"Take it," he snarled, forcing the note into Nate's hand. "And leave."