Derek was currently panicking. He didn't know why in hell he thought any of this was a good idea. He cursed him and his impulses for the fifteenth time that day as he paced, unsure of what to do or how to act. He could just be his normal, charming self right? Except he hadn't been like that around anyone at his work place. At all. It was like his confidence took a swan dive off the empire state building as soon as his parents told him he didn't have any money left. Sighing, he resigned himself to the liquor store, picking up some booze so he could drown himself in pity. As Saturday rolled around he'd bought more cooking utensils- pans, pots, some cheap plastic bundle that had a bunch of spoons, but time only breeded his anxiety.<br/><br/>He. Had. NOTHING. Not even a kitchen table. Living room? Still bare. Bedroom? All he had was the same pathetic mattress on the ground, clothes strewn over his floor and a lamp. Fuck, his "dresser" was a box he'd moved in that had the clothes in them anyway. He'd invested in a radio that was sitting on the kitchen counter but other then that he was still bare bones. Derek was nearing week two of living on his own and he had nothing to show for it except for some beer in the fridge and some god awful vodka in his cabinet that smelled like rubbing alcohol and gave him a bad hangover.<br/><br/>The man threw on his coat, running his hands through his hair and a nervous habit as slipped on his shoes. He needed to do something- to reschedule or...maybe as if they could cook at Conner's place instead? That sounded like a plan to Derek- better then saying no at the last minute. It was better then the man seeing what an embarrassment he was. He nearly bumped into Conner As he stepped outside his apartment, closing the door behind him quickly.<br/><br/>"Oh hey! I was just gonna...Hey, are you okay?" He asked, trailing off and looking at the mans face.