Clearly they need to start going to the gym together. Why hadn't he thought of that? Was that really how he came off as, the secluded bookworm? Better to be seen as studious than the fratboy, although despite his ways, Jim's grades were top of the class. (Which was infuriating. How could this guy hanging on him, getting close, getting closer, be so much better in every way?)

"It's different," he admitted. Both the affectionate attention from a guy and the affection as a whole. That Jim was tactile was no surprise at all, and he'd learned to get used to and tolerate the claps on the shoulders, touches here and there of a friendly nature. Arms around him, lips on his jaw? That was different.

Malcolm in turn slid a cautious arm around Jim. "Different's not bad."