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If Jude had been privy to the kind of staggering confusion he inspired in Grayson, all of the deeply devastating thoughts and giddy head-rushes, it was up in the air whether he'd be more horrified or self-satisfied. Even though Grayson was clearly not his type, there was some kind of satisfaction to be found in making anyone's head spin, and that was why Grayson would have to be certain not to let that particular effect of Jude's dubious charms be known. He could manage his own physical attraction to Jude well enough as long as it remained a secret, he figured.

Actually, he was so busy trying to sort his jumbled thoughts and appear as calm as ever that he missed most of the remarks about women. Probably a good thing, as Grayson loved and respected women, and understood them a lot better than he understood other men. Jude, for instance.

The question about school threw him, which was a blessing, because it distracted him from everything else. "My grades? Probably bad." He didn't even think to lie. It was fairly common knowledge around his house.

After a beat, he asked, "Why?"

Suddenly, he was being smacked upside the head and lectured like he was Jude's son and not his -- friend? comrade? friend -- and then before he could even react to that, he was being jerked to the left and nearly choked out. His eyes widened and then narrowed, and he reached up, loosening the scarf for his own safety. Who knew if Jude would get a wild idea to start leading him around by that for the rest of the walk, however long it was. Grayson didn't particularly want to have to explain to his parents why he had bright read choke marks around his neck.

It just wasn't high on his list of things he wanted to discuss with them, really.

"I'll be fine. I'll graduate," he added, hunching his shoulders inward as he walked. "I don't even want to go to a university, so really, all I need to worry about is graduating."

It didn't bear mentioning that he didn't actually want to date any Crystal girls. He figured Jude was just trying to be... funny? Another thing to add to the long list of what he didn't understand about Jude.

Frankly, Grayson didn't think his academics would reflect much on his performance as Sailor Leo, so the Captain could be left out of it. He didn't need anyone else breathing down his neck about school and his future, especially since he had no idea where his future was headed. Not in the long term, like where he would be in five to ten years, or even the short term, like where he would be tomorrow. He figured he would be home, but who knew if he would run into a youma or a Negaverse agent on his way there or not? He might end up in the hospital again. There was just no telling where life would lead him.

He thought these things would be wasted on Jude, however, and just start an argument that he didn't want. So, he buried his thoughts on academics and their relation to the Zodiac, and simply settled for quietly surveying the place where Jude lived.

It was a step up from the storage unit, that was for sure. It suited him, because it had simple lines and seemed sturdy, capable. Grayson was a little charmed when he went in, not only because it was lived in, but because he had implied that his brothers had made it that way. Grayson loved family, lived for his family, and it delighted him that Jude's had finally come to pay him a visit.

"I like it," he said simply, a serene smile on his face as he looked around.

He could put up with all manner of tedious physical reactions, and would gladly, just for the slight insight into Jude as a person. It was well worth some discomfort on his part to be able to see where he lived, hear about his nosy neighbor and be able to look around and think, this place really suits Jude.

Grayson was never uncomfortable around a mess (how could he be? His room was a complete disaster 90% of the time) so he followed Jude in, began to unwind his scarf. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost his cocoa, and he couldn't remember exactly where or how.

Oh well.

Thankfully Grayson wasn't a completely uncoordinated buffoon, so he managed to catch the phone with very little effort, began to dial the number from memory. Grayson wasn't worried about cracking up; if he had a more devious personality, he would have been excellent at prank calls, if only because he tended to give instructions in the most deadpan tone possible. It was too much effort to try to make explaining something entertaining, as far as he was concerned, which would lend him valuable credibility while he made poor Barnaby's life miserable.

With the phone ringing, he tucked it against his shoulder, half-turning to face Jude once more. He assumed Barnaby was in the back, as it took a bit for the phone to be answered, but when it did, his voice was as cool and smooth as it could have possibly been.

Keeping his eyes on Jude's face, Grayson ordered the most ridiculous pizza that came to mind, making certain to be very specific about the placement and arrangement of toppings. His voice didn't falter for a moment, though a gradual grin bloomed on his face in response to Jude's expression at the order.

By the end of it, he calmly closed with, "Thank you, Barnaby. If you'll just have that delivered to Jude's apartment, we'd be really grateful."

It was a little mean but not too mean, so by the time he got off the phone he was still grinning, amused. He really liked Barnaby. It occurred to him as he held the phone out, offering it back to Jude, that he didn't have his number, but it did not occur to him to ask for it. After their misunderstanding last time, he didn't want to give Jude even a slight indication that he was interested in him in any way at all.

It was dishonest, and there was part of him that really didn't like that, but it was for his own good. Jude's, and his.

Very little could come from caring for Jude than heartache, but he didn't want to think about it just then. He simply wanted to enjoy a movie with his friend, and eat a truly ridiculously constructed pizza.

So, tone light, he asked, "Was that ridiculous enough? And, I've actually never seen this movie, is it any good?"

It was almost perfect, except... except Hero kept coming up.

It was low of him, petty of him, just plain pathetic of him, but Grayson's spirits were dampened by the mention of her. His silly little crush aside, he had no reason to resent Hero, no reason to be jealous of the place she held in his heart. He'd known that Jude's love and regard were for her and would never be for him, but that didn't seem to matter much.

One of these days, his heart was going to catch up to his head, but until then, he supposed he would just have to get used to the feeling of it slowly twisting itself until there was nothing left to wring from it. Dramatic, yes, but Grayson was a hopeless romantic, emphasis on the hopeless.

He lowered himself to the couch, made it a point to be looking to the side as though there was something he needed to adjust as he answered, "No, Jude, I haven't seen her. I'm sorry."

And he was, for a variety of reasons.

Grayson had a thankfully one-track mind for the most part, so he found himself absorbed in the movie quite easily. It really was good, and though he was much more a Spiderman sort of guy than Batman, he had to admit, it was worth the watch. Enough so that he didn't even notice the expression on Jude's face, didn't realize as he folded up onto himself, arms wrapped around his knees, and stared wide-eyed at the television for nearly the entire duration of the movie.

If Jude talked a lot during movies, Grayson was generally absolutely silent. He might not have even noticed if Jude had been talking.

It was a good movie.

He was going to express that to Jude, not even caring that his fanboy glee would probably get him hit again, when his brothers stampeded in. Wide-eyed now for a different reason, Grayson stared unabashedly, eyes trailing from one Lawson to the next with thinly-veiled, but still attempted polite, interest.

Jude's family? He hadn't expected to meet Jude's family, well, ever.

And there were so many of them.

Lowering his legs slowly, feet hitting the floor, he placed his hands on his knees and pursed his lips thoughtfully, considering. They were all very handsome, with the kind of casual good looks that Jude himself possessed. Their general air was boisterous and unapologetic, which he liked, but it wasn't until his eyes hit the youngest one that he fell a little bit in love.

Grayson loved children. And oh, dear lord, this one was just --

"Hello." He rose, unsure of exactly who he was offering his hand to, but extending it just the same. Someone would take it, perhaps. "I'm Grayson. Grayson Graves. Jude and I are coworkers."

Or, er, had been. Whatever.

He chose to ignore the date comment, because he didn't want to make this any more awkward than it probably already was for Jude. Just because he'd had Grayson over to watch a movie didn't mean he wanted him to meet his family, after all. Especially not be accused of dating him by his family.

They both knew how well that implication had gone over last time.

It was like a whirlwind. Compared to his family, the Lawsons were all bustle and noise, merry activity and casual affection that ran deep but seemed mostly unspoken. His family was so tame, so contained, in comparison. Sure, Tristan was loud, but his parents were of the variety that was more dignified and quietly amused by life, taking things in stride and attempting to handle whatever was passed their way with control and grace. He didn't prefer Jude's family to his own, not by any means, but he certainly liked them a great deal. How couldn't he?

They were like Jude, just more of them.

So his smile was wide and honest, and he gripped Mark's hand firmly and confidently. There was no soft-handed, weak shake to be had from him; at the very least, the Graves had taught their sons how to properly introduce themselves, and that included having a handshake that didn't immediately embarrass you. It might have seemed like a small thing, but Arthur swore it could make or break a business deal, give the best impression or the worst one. Grayson didn't think he'd ever go into business, but he understood the power of a handshake.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over, and Katie had arrived with the pizza. Grayson would have dug in his pockets to pitch in, but Jude got to it before he could wade through his brothers, so he abandoned the effort. If Jude wanted compensation, he reasoned, he'd ask for it later.

When he wasn't in a headlock, maybe.

Amusement barely concealed on his face, he watched Jude attempt to juggle the pizza and disentangle himself from Mark, debated offering a helping hand. He decided against it, thinking there was some ridiculous man code that he would be violating unknowingly, and settled for gazing around the assortment of faces once more.

God, but they all looked a lot like Jude. They just didn't have the eyes.

His eyes fell on the boy, Jude's nephew, and his smile brightened. He crouched, elbow propped up on his knees, and offered his hand to the boy. "Hi. I'm Grayson."

Plate of pizza in one hand, Grayson beamed a smile at Nathan, saying, "I'll bet Uncle Jude wants to sit by you." as he straightened and placed a hand lightly on the back of Nathan's head. The boy trotted over amiably enough, climbing up on the sofa and settling in next to Jude. Grayson took a seat as well, closer than he had been before, but only because he thought Nathan was absolutely adorable and wanted to enjoy him for however long he was there.

No one Grayson knew had kids. He'd been five when Tristan had been born, so he hadn't fully appreciated the terrible twos and the ups and downs of toddler-hood, being very concerned with the way his own world was abruptly shifting with the arrival of another child. Suffice it to say, Grayson was more than gleeful to have the toddler around.

The look he shot Jude was pure affection, and probably a little startling, all things considered. His attention was quickly diverted by Nathan, though, and he turned his shoulders inward, smiling down at the boy.

"Do you like pizza?" He'd already begun to break off a piece of his own, before he even tasted it, to offer in case Nathan wanted some.