Elastic Collision

There was something entirely off about the normal ambiance in Tyrell Wellick's door room that he couldn't pinpoint. Maybe it was the fact that he actually tidied up since the first time he moved in; maybe it was because there were signs of his mysterious roommate in here; or maybe it was because Elliot Alderson was sitting on his bed trying desperately not to be awkward about the whole situation. This wasn't exactly how he imagined Elliot sprawled out on his bed but he had to make do with what he had. It didn't take long for them to get from the laundromat to his room, and it took even less time for Tyrell to think of elaborate fantasies for the real reason Elliot was approaching his bedroom. A man could dream at least. 

Elliot didn't make eye contact with Tyrell as he hurriedly wrote down the class notes he missed. Being in the lion's den, as known as Tyrell's room, made his skin crawl. Though there were no visible sign of him being a psycho killer (i.e. bloody gloves or weapons), he still couldn't help but feel unsafe. He felt like no matter how many times he saw Tyrell a week or how long he spent time with him, there would always be a level of discomfort around him. It was like a gazelle waiting for the lion to pounce and trying to run away at the last minute. The microwave beeped loudly startling him.

"Don't worry it's only the food." Tyrell said, taking the appetizer from the week prior out of the microwave and putting it on his desk. For the first time in a while, he didn't know what to say. If this was any other person in the world, he would use his charm and words to persuade them to sleep with him but he couldn't do that in this situation. Elliot wasn't like the rest, he wasn't easy like them. There was a level of challenge and expertise needed to conquer him. Besides, he didn't think a few sensual words and good looks would win him over. He could tell the caution that Elliot had around him and he knew the first thing to do would be to break that barrier, if there was a way to do that at all.  

"Network Technology." Elliot said suddenly, turning a page in his notebook. The silence was deafening and while this may have been comfortable around any other person, it felt eerie around the likes of him. He could plotting his murder and means of clean up. He'd seen the box of unmistakable medical blue gloves when he walked in. 

"What?" Tyrell asked. 

"That's my major in case you were still wondering. The first day we met you asked why I came here but I never really answered." 

Tyrell took a bite of the bruschetta. He didn't want to admit it but he actually looked up Elliot's information on the school's database. He knew a little bit about hacking, but it's a skill he didn't like to brag about, especially when it could be used for leverage. "I figured. We're in most of the same technology classes. We should sit together more often." Smooth, Tyrell, smooth, he thought. 

Elliot resisted to the urge not to roll his eyes. This whole plan would work a lot better if he wasn't as obsessed with me, he thought. "Yeah." he paused for a minute. "Why aren't you in any of my gen ed classes besides communications and psych? Almost everyone from orientation seems to be there."

He was actually showing an interest in him. Tyrell smiled, "I took advanced placement classes in high school so I wouldn't have to take those tedious and boring notes with professors that don't really seem to care about anything. That way I have more time to focus on my actual degrees." 

Wow, he's actually a smartass. "That makes sense, I guess. You must've put in a lot of work to do that."

He nodded, chewing some more of the grilled bread. He didn't really want to talk about school or his accomplishments anymore. Anyone could say that they were the best in high school or got a 4.0 GPA. That wasn't something that really held someone like Elliot's interest and Tyrell could tell that he didn't want to talk about it either. The conversation just didn't feel natural. He was being uncharacteristically blunt and outward tonight. "Elliot, you know you don't have to ask superficial questions just to keep the room filled with audio. We can sit here in silence." As much as he liked to hear his precious voice, he didn't want him to talk if he wasn't comfortable or interested. 

Elliot didn't reply, nodding in agreement. At least he had common sense about one thing.

Tyrell tapped his hand on the desk. There had to be some way that he could convince Elliot that he wasn't a threat, that way his plan could advance further. He didn't care how long it would take, he just wanted his future lover to feel as comfortable around him as possible. The only way to do that is through confidence and being bold. "Elliot, what's your number?"

"What?" He was surprised. He didn't think Tyrell would be this forward this quickly, especially since they just solidified their friendship thirty minutes ago. 

"I know I'm being a little ambitious but I mean, you know, in case of an emergency we can contact each other. For example, when you're not in class, I can make sure to record audio for you and take careful notes or something like that. I don't want it to come off as weird though. Never-mind that sounds too weird, sorry." Ok, so maybe requesting his phone number wasn't the best route to go. Idiot. 

Only six people had his number: Darlene, Angela, Shayla, his mom, his former morphine dealer, and his psychiatrist. He never really thought about giving his number away while he was here, but Shayla had surprised him with her (drug) connections and eagerness about wanting to become friends. Now, Tyrell was doing the same thing. "Uh..." Is this how people felt when they were getting asked out? "...I guess." 

Tyrell's eyes lit up. "Really?" 

"Sure." No. "You can have it." NO. "I'll write it down for you." NO! 

"Thank you. I hope that didn't sound extra weird. It's just that I like to have my friend's numbers-"

Elliot handed him the slip of loose leaf paper. "Don't make this weird, Wellick."

"Right." he said, letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Everything is actually working.   

-

Elliot walked out of the laundromat, taking in the late summer air. There was no way in God's green Earth did he think that he would ever give his number away to a total stranger, no matter how bad he wanted to get away from him. Was this a sign that he was finally losing his mind? 

"Hey, Elliot!" Tyrell called from a short distance away. 

He stopped his walk and turned around. As if nearly three hours of spending time with each other weren't enough, he had something else to say. "It was nice spending time with you. I hope we can do it again sometime." Tyrell yelled with glee. 

He gave him an awkward thumbs and turned back around to continue his journey to his residential building. Maybe he was really losing it. 

Tyrell smiled, watching Elliot walk across the grass to his dorm. The amount of time he spent with his future lover was like a gift from God himself. There was nothing about tonight that he would take back. The strong feeling he felt at the pit of his stomach; the lump in his throat; his increased heart rate. He cherished every moment he had with him as if it were his last. He swallowed. "Am I falling in love with him?"

Elliot walked into his room, throwing his bundle of laundry to the ground. He needed to talk to Joanna as soon as possible. He needed to know anything and everything about Tyrell's plans for him before he slipped up into giving him personal information again. There was no way this could happen ever again. He collapsed on his bed with a big sigh of relief, putting his cigarette up to his lips. That fucker.