The smell of sulfur greeted Lance as he woke. He could almost forget the smell when he slept, it hadn’t yet invaded his dreams, but it awaited him upon waking, permeated his everyday life and refused any and all attempts at washing or removal.

He used to think he’d get used to it, that being placed next to the factory meant that one day he would wake up and not notice that the air smelled of sulfur, that he could smell that better than anything closer to him, the musky odor of his sheets, the sweaty clean smell of Joey’s skin, his own morning breath.

Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to get used to it.

He could feel the weight of Joey’s head on his shoulder, one arm and a leg thrown across his body. He turned and buried his nose in Joey’s hair, trying to escape the pervasive scent. He breathed deeply, inhaling first the industrial scent of the soap they were issued, then the scent of Joey himself. Another scent he hoped he’d never get used to, but for entirely different reasons.

A small noise in the kitchen drew his attention. He didn’t suspect intrusion: no one cared enough to steal what they could easily get at Central.

Lance slowly pulled away from Joey, trying to let the other man sleep as long as he needed before the day truly began. Unfortunately, while light and sound didn’t bother Joey as he slept, movement did. His eyes opened a fraction and he mumbled in Lance’s direction.

“Not yet, sleep some more,” Lance whispered, slowly rubbing Joey’s back as he settled into the spot Lance had vacated. Joey snorted into Lance’s pillow and lay quietly, slowly drifting off again. Lance placed a small kiss on his brow before he stood.

Lance found JC in the kitchen, brewing the small amount of coffee grounds they were given at Central. Four cups pushed the limit of the little horde of grounds and the result tasted more of hot water than coffee most mornings. Still, the smell was enough to get them going most times, and the memory of the rich coffee they used to drink by the potful.

“Got a mug?” he asked JC. When JC shook his head, he picked up two standard issue mugs from the dish rack and held both out so JC could pour.

Lance leaned against the counter and blew on his coffee before taking a cautious sip. More water than coffee today, so he held the mug under his nose and inhaled. It reminded him of McDonald’s coffee, before free enterprise had been eradicated and all the restaurants closed.

“Where are you working today?” he asked.

“Central.”

Lance grinned. “Think you’re going to see him?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Man.”

JC ducked his head and shrugged. They’d been calling JC’s crushes “Mr. Man” for years, because JC was horrible with names. “I might. The bathroom we’re re-piping is next to his office.”

“Young stalkers in love.”

“Shut up. I’m not stalking him, I just followed him one day…” he trailed off as Lance sputtered coffee across the counter. “Okay, maybe it was sort of stalkerish, but not really.”

“Yeah, really,” Lance said, wiping at his chin with his sleeve.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

Lance got one of the rough towels from the sink and wiped at the spilled coffee. “You’re careful, right, C?”

When JC didn’t answer, Lance continued. “No one’s worth getting activated for.”

“What about Joey?”

“I mean besides us. You know I’d risk it for any of you in a heartbeat, but not a stranger. Not a face I saw passing in the street. It isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it.”

“But I’ll never know, will I? Until I try.”

“But you’re careful, right?”

JC set his mug down next to Lance’s. His hands clenched on the edge of the counter and his voice when he spoke was clipped. “Yes I’m careful. I’m so damn careful. They’ve got nothing on me, not one thing since it all ended. They ask for it, they beg for something, some reason to take me, take any of us. I know that, but I don’t give it to them.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m careful.”

“We’re all careful.” Lance spoke quietly, loathe to broach up the subject of Chris, the real reason that all of them followed the rules and stayed in line, playing puppets for Bourge.

“At least you’re forced to live with your boyfriend.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “At least you’re forced to live with people you love, who love you.”

JC didn’t reply.