"...and the function of the altimeter, although antiquated, is still relevant to travel in space because..."

The voice of the instructor droned on and on. Apollo tried to pay attention, but it really was difficult. There wasn't much new information in this class. After all, he'd learned the basics of astrogation when most kids were still learning their home addresses. But it was a required class, so he was in here. At least the tests were easy. Who said he had to pay attention to every word out of the instructor's mouth, as long as he passed the tests, right?

His attention drifted to the window. It was a sunny day outside, which was nice after all the rain. Maybe he and Starbuck could...

Link iron filings to a magnet, his eyes snapped away from the window view and focused on the small figure in the front row. Starbuck was watching old Raffert avidly, so intent on the lecture that Apollo doubted anything short of a Cylon Centurion walking through the door could distract him. In fact, maybe even that wouldn't do it.

Apollo wrenched his gaze away from his friend again, although honestly there wasn't much he'd rather do than look at Starbuck. That was beginning to become a problem, in itself. He hadn't noticed that problem until someone had rubbed his nose in it, actually. But now he knew there was a problem, and instead of getting better it was getting worse. Yet, in a way it was getting better...

They'd been discussing girls, as usual, his so-called study group. And as usual, Apollo had been listening, somewhat bemused, and wondering idly when his dormant hormones would finally wake up and take notice of the opposite sex. He'd been listening to the discussion of the assets of Valeria, the head of the cheering squad, when someone had asked him what he thought.

"Well, she's okay, I guess," he'd said. "She's very pretty."

"You sound about as enthusiastic as if she were a show daggit," Tig said, snickering.

Then the door had opened. "Sorry I'm late," a breathless Starbuck had said. His hair was ruffled, his eyes sparkling, cheeks reddened by the brisk spring wind outside. Apollo felt his heart skip a beat and he smiled, a wide happy smile. "Was caught by some girls."

"And they forced you to stay and talk to them, right, Bucko?" Apollo laughed, but he couldn't keep the edge out of his voice.

"What's the matter, Apollo? Jealous?" Tig laughed as well, a slightly more malicious sound. "You seem more interested in Starbuck here than cheerleaders."

And there it was. Apollo could still feel the chill of shock washing over him, sending ice through his entire body. And since he'd realized it, since he'd acknowledged the problem, he hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. Starbuck was everything to him that girls should be.

Apollo squirmed and tried to focus on the lecture again. Even basic astrogation was an improvement over the uncomfortable thoughts which had been troubling him so much lately. But it was no use. Raffert faded out again, replaced by Starbuck. Apollo was naïve, but not that naïve—he knew what it meant when a boy was attracted to another boy. Everyone knew what that meant: perverts. The names applied to boys like that were many and varied, but they all boiled down to "pervert" in the end.

Apollo didn't want to think of himself as a pervert. It was against regs, for one thing; anyone caught engaging in indecent behavior was subject to extreme penalties, even expulsion. He scrunched down in his chair and tried to take notes. Always take redundant measurements... when in doubt, check star positions... know your charts and shipping routes... Baby stuff.

Finally the class ended. Apollo bolted for the door, first out as always. Starbuck would be out in a moment. He'd been seated in the front row throughout the entire semester so far, because he was always the last one to reach this particular class. Apollo didn't like to think about that. He knew the reason: Starbuck had physical training before this class, and he dearly loved to stay after and hang out around the girls' locker room.

"Apollo! Wait up!"

Damn. Even the sound of that voice sent a thrill through him. How could it be so perverted, so wrong, to feel something so... nice? Apollo stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Not so fast, buddy! I wanted to talk to you. Haven't hardly seen you all secton."

Starbuck caught up to Apollo, threading his way effortlessly through the crowded hall. "What's up with you, anyway? Dontcha like me anymore?"

"Hardly," Apollo said. "Just got a lot on my mind, and you know you haven't been around much lately."

"Yeah, well," and Starbuck looked around furtively. No one was paying them the slightest attention. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

"You said that already," Apollo pointed out nervously. Surely Starbuck hadn't guessed already? Maybe he had. Maybe that was why he'd been staying out so late, why he'd been getting everywhere late instead of going with Apollo... That was it. That had to be it. And now Starbuck wanted to... to... Apollo tried to stop it, but the thought happened anyway. Maybe Starbuck wanted to move out, to get a new roommate. Maybe that was what he wanted to talk about.

"Back to the room? No one will bother us there, right?"

Apollo jumped. "Right. What—" He swallowed hard. And now it happened. Even though Starbuck didn't sound upset...

They worked their way through the hallways of the Academy and into the dorm section. Starbuck was in the lead now, Apollo hanging back with an unfamiliar sensation gnawing at his stomach: anxiety. There was the room, three more doors and on the left. Apollo took a deep breath and followed Starbuck in, already working out ways to say it's okay, I undertand why you're leaving...

"Apollo? What in hell is wrong with you, anyway?" Starbuck threw himself down on his bed, hands behind his head, and leveled a curious blue stare at his friend.

"Nothing." Apollo sat a bit more decorously on his own bed. Might as well get this over with. "So what's up? What did you want to talk about?"

Starbuck looked away, two faint spots of color appearing on his cheeks. Here it comes... "The other night. You know. Study group."

Apollo couldn't look at Starbuck, he just couldn't. He hung his head. "Yeah."

"I.. uh." Starbuck sat up, fidgeted with his pillows, then leaned back again, only to stand and move restlessly around the room. "I, uh, I'm not sure how to say this."

"Just say it," Apollo said, voice quiet but still under control. He mustn't let Starbuck see how upset he was.

Starbuck ran a hand through his hair, looking out the window. "Just say it. Right." He took a deep breath. "Apollo, I—damn it all! I think you're a lot better looking than those damn cheerleader girls, okay?"

"What?" Apollo looked up from his knees, hope blooming like a sunflower in his chest. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

"Yeah." Starbuck glared at him defiantly. "I did. You got a problem with that?"

"No!" Apollo nearly fell off his bed in his urgency to reassure Starbuck. He sorted himself out and stood up, closing the small distance between them. "I was afraid you had figured out about me and wanted out of here, didn't want to be my friend anymore."

"What?" Now it was Starbuck's turn to be surprised. "What about you? And why in all hells would I want to ditch you? You're my best friend."

Apollo grinned, a wide relieved grin. "I thought you'd figured out that I think you're much cuter than any of the girls and were mad and... well, you know, grossed out. I mean... you know."

"You're not a pervert, and neither am I," Starbuck said immediately. Then he smiled. "Of course, some people probably would say so, but not me."

"So you're not going anywhere? You still like me?" Apollo needed to hear it again. The fear of losing his friend had been gnawing at him all secton.

"Yeah, Apollo," Starbuck said softly. "I still like you. Nothing's gonna change that, okay?"

"Good," Apollo said, feeling lightheaded with relief. Starbuck still liked him. Better than girls, even, which was a real surprise. Starbuck wasn't going anywhere. Everything was going to be just fine.