bella :)

"im straight"

"im bisexual"

pairing: (frat!)elasticdroid x reader  summary: as frat sweetheart, everyone loves you. that is, besides jaime, who manages to avoid you at all cost. you're convinced he secretly hates you, but a confrontation at a party says otherwise. genre: fluff

The frat house became a part of your daily routine; you barely thought twice before walking through the front door, having the code to enter. 

The house was never quiet, chaos from dozens of (male) college students sharing the same space, and every room always had someone cackling, arguing over a video game, or searching for something they couldn’t find. 

You had your own unofficial spot in the living room where everyone expected to find you whenever you stopped by, usually with your laptop open as you absentmindedly worked your homework or a stack of boards spread across the coffee table while you painted another banner for an upcoming philanthropy event.

Being the frat sweetheart was no easy feat. It started as a joke after you volunteered to help with a fundraiser during your freshman year, but it quickly became an honorary title that everyone embraced, crowned by the frat president, Puffer, himself.

You worked closely with the chapter whenever they hosted charity events, made sure every fundraiser actually got advertised on their social media account, and somehow ended up becoming the person everyone texted whenever they forgot a deadline or needed help organizing something. Puffer loved to joke that the chapter would collapse within a week if you ever decided to abandon them, Pezzy said it would take three days. 

"I mean it," Puffer joked while you adjusted the brightness level on the camera app to take pictures of the newest charity shirts. "None of us even know the password to the Instagram account."

"You've had the password for six months," you scoffed, peering below your phone screen, trying to get the shirt in frame. 

"I definitely forgot it."

"You wrote it down."

"I definitely forgot where I wrote it." 

Grizzy looked up from the couch where he was with his iPad, doodling. "She's the only responsible adult in this house."

"I'm literally the same age as all of you."

"Exactly," Pezzy said. "Which makes it even more impressive."

You rolled your eyes, although you couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you snapped another photo. They always reminded you why you enjoyed spending so much time at the fraternity house. Everyone welcomed you as though you had been an official member of the chapter, and you never had to wonder whether you belonged there.

Well, almost everyone.

You still could not figure Jaime out.

Every interaction you had with him seemed to end before it ever really started. Whenever you walked into the kitchen, he always found some excuse to leave. If you sat down in the living room, he politely excused himself a few minutes later because he “suddenly” remembered an assignment with a close deadline. Whenever you said hi to him, he always smiled and said hello back, but the conversation never lasted longer than a handful of seconds before another frat boy got your attention and he then quietly disappeared off to his room.

At first, you assumed he was really busy. Then, you wondered whether he was shy. 

Eventually, after weeks of noticing, you began to think he just didn’t like you.

You replayed conversations while you walked around campus, wondering if you ever accidentally offended him without realizing it. Was it the small jab you made about his foot when he broke it? No, it couldn’t be, he laughed really hard - hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh - and you remember it because it was sweet. You remember it because your heart swelled at his big laugh. 

You thought back to every event you helped organize and every time you tried including him in conversations with the other guys. Nothing stood out in particular, but you still found yourself watching him whenever you visited, only to notice him slipping away once again.

You were at the house painting a banner for their upcoming charity volleyball tournament, laying on your stomach as you doodled. Thinking about Jaime again, you sighed to yourself before distracting yourself with following the lines you drew in pencil. 

Pezzy and Grizzy were laying on the couch, pretending to help while scrolling on their phones and providing commentary to your artwork - unasked for, by the way. 

"I think this shade of blue looks better," Pezzy offered.

"Nah," Grizzy argued. “It’s too light.”

Pezzy jabbed him in the side, “You’re wrong.”

“Who here dabbles in the arts for fun?” Grizzy looked around, “Oh, right. Just me. Not you.”

Pezzy scoffed, but admitted defeat. 

You poured the darker shade of blue onto the plastic palette.  "I was thinking."

"Well, that’s never good." Grizzy muttered.

“Shut up.” You laughed as you continued painting the letters. You feel a tinge of embarrassment thinking about what you want to ask. "Can I ask you guys something?"

Both of them looked over at you. "Sure."

"Does Jaime... not like me?" The heat rose to your cheeks, warming them up. Was it just you or was the room a touch too hot? 

Both of them bursted into laughter, uncontrollably. 

Grizzy folded over, leaning towards Pezzy for support. 

You scoffed as you forced your eyes away from the banner. Your gaze goes up to them on the couch. "I don't understand what's funny."

Neither of them answered because neither of them could stop laughing.

"I'm serious," you insisted, feeling the need to defend your question. "Every single time I come over, he avoids me."

Finally, Pezzy managed to catch his breath. "Oh, he's going to kill us."

Grizzy nodded, wiping the tears (was it really that funny?) from the corner of his eyes. 

You sat up, cross-legged and folded your arms. "I would really appreciate someone explaining what’s so funny."

Pezzy exchanged another look with Grizzy before shaking his head with the biggest grin you had ever seen. "He doesn't avoid you because he doesn't like you…" He trailed off, pointing to Grizzy.

"He avoids you because he's completely terrified of talking to you." Grizzy finished.  

You blinked. "...What?"

Grizzy laughed again. "The guy has the biggest crush on you that I have ever seen."

You opened your mouth to argue. "No, no, he doesn't."

"He absolutely does." Pezzy leaned back against the couch with an amused smile.

"You are both making this up."

"I promise we're not." Grizzy rose his arms in surrender.

"The first time you came over, he asked me if he should introduce himself. I told him yes because that's generally how meeting people works." Pezzy explained, "He walked halfway across the room, saw you smiling at him, panicked, turned around, and pretended he needed to help Puffer carry boxes."

"He did not."

"He absolutely did." Pezzy laughed.

"Oh god,” Grizzy groaned, “and he literally asks us questions about you all the time."

"What kind of questions?"

Pezzy said in a higher pitch, "'Do you think she likes horror movies?'"

Grizzy followed along, "'Would it be weird if I complimented her shirt?'"

You felt your cheeks growing warmer with every sentence, looking down at your blue stained fingers. "I thought he couldn't stand me."

"He thinks you're amazing, which you totally are." Grizzy said. "The problem is that every time you're around, he forgets how to function."

The realization settled over you so suddenly that you couldn't help laughing. Grizzy and Pezzy grin at you. 

"You've got to be kidding."

"We wish we were."

"You should probably talk to him." Pezzy wiggled his eyebrows. 

You smiled to yourself. "Maybe I will."

And the opportunity arrived sooner than you expected.

The frat’s end of semester party filled the house with loud music, conversation, and a lot of people that you could barely move through the living room without bumping into someone you knew. You spent most of the evening talking with friends, congratulating the seniors, and helping Puffer restock snacks. You accepted perhaps too many shots with people, the warmth of the liquor burning down your throat. 

You wandered toward the back door in search of fresh air, enough alcohol in your system to make you sway and smile at yourself like a fool once you noticed Jaime.

He stood alone near the porch railing, head pointed towards the sky, studying the clouds and stars. He turned at the sound of the door opening, and the moment he saw you, his face turned into an expression you usually saw as spite, but with your friends’ confession, you see it as nervousness now. 

You grin, feeling silly. How could you mistake that face as animosity? 

"Hey," he greeted, his voice so small it almost got lost in the background music.

You walked straight toward him until there was barely any space left between you, arms just barely touching. "We need to talk." You turn your head so you’re face to face. 

His eyebrows lifted, perhaps your forwardness caught him off guard. "Okay. Sure."

You studied him for a long moment before asking the question that had lived in your head for weeks. You knew the answer, but the small voice in your head didn’t believe Grizzy or Pezzy. You wanted to hear it from him. "Do you hate me?"

His entire face fell into complete confusion. "What?"

"Be honest, Jaime, do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you." He sputtered out, “Why would I hate you?”

"You always leave."

"I..."

"You never talk to me."

"I try."

"You don't try very hard."

His mouth opened before closing again. He knew you were right.

You sighed dramatically, grinning madly internally knowing that he didn’t have any negative feelings towards you. Your body filled with pure glee knowing that Pezzy and Grizzy were telling the truth - which meant Jaime had a crush on you. 

"You know, I spent the entire semester thinking you couldn't stand me."

His eyes widened with genuine horror. "You thought that?"

"What else was I supposed to think?"

"I never wanted you to think that."

"Then why do you always disappear?" You were really trying to pull the confession out of this guy. 

He looked down at the porch floor, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Because I like you."

You blinked. Ok, wow. You thought you would need to push him a little more to get it out of him. 

"I've liked you for months," he admitted, still refusing to look up. "Every time you're here, I tell myself that today's the day I'm finally going to have a normal conversation with you. Then you smile at me, and suddenly I forget every single thing I planned to say. All of the words I want to say get stuck in my throat."

The confession melted your heart. Just cause you were expecting it didn’t mean it didn’t affect you any less. "Sooo, you've been running away because you have a crush on me?"

He finally looked up, his cheeks glowing bright red. "I know it sounds ridiculous."

"It sounds adorable."

His eyes searched your face for something dishonest. He couldn’t find it though. "...Really?"

You laughed. You reached for his hand without thinking, and he looked down at your intertwined fingers with an expression so full of disbelief that it almost made your heart ache.

"You could have just talked to me."

"I wanted to."

"I would've listened."

"I know that now."

The smile that spread across his face was shy and genuine, and it suited him so perfectly that you found yourself smiling just as brightly. It felt like the first time you made him laugh. 

"You know," you said, "Pezzy and Grizzy told me everything."

His eyes widened. "They what?"

"They've apparently been watching this whole thing happen."

He groaned, covering his face with one hand, the other still occupied with yours. "I'm never hearing the end of this."

"Probably not."

"They're going to be unbearable."

"They already are."

Both of you laughed, and the nervousness that always existed between you finally melted away.

For the first time since you had met him, talking to Jaime felt effortless.

He told you about every conversation he had almost started before talking himself out of it. You admitted how confused you had been every time he hurried out of a room. Somewhere between laughing over all the misunderstandings and teasing him about his terrible attempts at acting casual, the distance that had existed between you for months disappeared.

His eyes crinkled as he looked at you, grinning. "Can I kiss you?"

You answered by leaning closer.

The kiss was gentle and careful, filled with the sweetness that defined everything about Jaime. One of his hands rested lightly against your waist while yours settled against his shoulder, and when you finally pulled away, both of you were smiling so much that it could’ve hurt.

"I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he admitted.

"You probably should've done it sooner."

"I was working up the courage."

“I know that now.”

The party continued downstairs for another hour or so, but neither of you felt like returning to it. Eventually Puffer poked his head out onto the porch, noticed the unmistakable smiles on both of your faces, and broke into a grin that just screamed “I know what you did!”

"I'm assuming you two have everything… sorted out?" he asked.

Jaime looked hopelessly embarrassed. You laughed at his expression. "Yeah,” You turn to Puffer, “I think so."

"Excellent," Puffer grinned. "I'm going to pretend I know absolutely nothing until tomorrow morning. When you both share the details.”

The party finally slowed down. People leaving the house to another bar, people too drunk claiming couches and spots on the floor. Jaime hesitated going up the stairs before shyly asking if you wanted to stay in his room for a while, and you accepted without a second thought.

His room felt cozy and everything reminded you of him with textbooks scattered, a desk covered in class notes, and shelves lined with games and little collectibles that reflected every hobby he had mentioned over the course of the evening.

He handed you one of his oversized hoodies after noticing you shiver from the cool night air, and you slipped it on with a grateful smile.

"It looks better on you than it ever has on me," he admitted.

"You've definitely practiced compliments more than conversations."

He laughed, ducking his head. "That's fair."

The two of you settled comfortably against the headboard, talking until neither of you noticed how late it had become. You shared stories from childhood, complained about professors, argued over favorite movies, and laughed until your stomach hurt. You’ve always had an eye on Jaime, it’s why his nonchalantness always bothered you, but it wasn’t until tonight when you realized just how much you like him. 

As the hours passed, your head drifted onto his shoulder. He laced his fingers through yours without saying anything. Conversation slowed as you both settled into quietness. 

"I'm glad I asked why you hated me," you murmured sleepily.

Jaime laughed softly. "I'm very glad you did too."

You smiled as your eyes grew heavier.

"You don't have to avoid me anymore."

He squeezed your hand three times. "I don't think I'll ever want to."

Wrapped in one of his hoodies with your hand still resting comfortably in his, you closed your eyes knowing that the next time you walked into the frat house, Jaime would finally be waiting to say hello instead of searching for somewhere to hide.