#insertreferencehere

‘Alright,’ he murmured, ‘Madison Hall.’ After knocking over someone’s boxes and nearly getting hit with a soccer ball, he finally reached his residence. He briefly remembered the name of his roommate, Scott, who he had been matched with over the summer. They’ve talked a little bit between then and now, mostly about rules and if there were any allergies. (Apparently, Scott was allergic to mushrooms. Luckily for him, Stiles never ordered a mushroom pizza.) He’d seen a grainy picture of him as well, with only his tan skin and crooked jaw standing out. Stiles just hoped he wasn’t asshole, he’d seen enough of those to last a lifetime.

The corridors were relatively empty, considering it was the week before classes started. Perhaps he was quite late, or the others were all last minute. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

Just as he was about to open his door, it flung open, startling Stiles. ‘Wow!’ The guy on the other end was frozen for a moment too, until his hands shot forward. ‘I’m sorry!’ Stiles coughed, laughing awkwardly, ‘It’s ah, fine. Are you Scott?’ ‘Yeah,’ Scott had an easy smile, ‘Stiles?’ ‘Yep!’, he grinned. Scott seemed nice, at first glance. He hoped it would stay that way. ‘Cool. Come in.’

The room was, as expected, dull and small. It had two, simple twin beds with matching nightstands. Two dressers, two desks, two corkboards, a “grey but it was once white trust me” wall colour and a tiny bathroom that contained a toilet, sink and mirror. The common showers and kitchen were down the hall. The right side was already occupied with what Stiles assumed was Scott’s stuff.

‘I took the bed at the window, if you don’t mind,’ Scott said. ‘Yeah, I don’t mind,’ Stiles dropped his bag on the free bed, ‘have you done anything already?’ Scott shook his head, ‘No. I just wanted to go to the activity fair when you came. Wanna join me?’ Stiles shrugged. ‘Sure.’

*

‘Where are you from?’, Scott asked, examining the colourful stands. Stiles scoffed, there was a club for literally everything. ‘California. North.’ Scott smiled, ‘I’m from South-California.’ Stiles had wanted to say something about why the fuck he was always smiling, when Scott’s face lit up even more and ran towards a booth. ‘You wanna audition for a band?’, Stiles crinkled his nose, staring at horrible posters with stock photos they got from Getty Images. ‘Yeah, why not? I play guitar.’ ‘I think every American guy plays guitar.’ ‘Do you?’ ‘No. The drums.’ ‘You should audition too!’ Stiles laughed shortly. ‘No.’ Scott shrugged, putting his name on the list where already a few other names were noted. ‘Are you going to join something?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Stiles mumbled, eyes skating across the field, ‘Is there a “solving bloody murders”-club, by chance?’ Scott looked up, staring at him weirdly. ‘You like that?’ Stiles smiled, ‘Well – yeah. It’s fun to figure things out.’ ‘You have friends who liked that too?’ Green eyes and strawberry blonde hair smiled at him in his memory. ‘Yeah.’ Scott seemed to realise Stiles didn’t want to talk about it, so he resumed blabbing out his guitar, which Stiles appreciated. He’d rather not think about his relationship with Lydia.

Near the end of the night, posters of “All Time Low” and “Paramore” hung on Scott’s side of the room, whilst Stiles had one up from “Star Wars” and “The Mummy”. Pictures of mums and dads pinned on the boards, books neatly placed in drawers as well as clothes. (‘Do you only wear shirts?’, “Do you only wear flannels?’)  Scott’s guitar was placed in one corner, and Stiles’ yarn had a dedicated spot that was not allowed to be touched by anyone other than himself.

‘Have you seen Star Wars?’ ‘Uh – no.’ ‘What. Scott!’ He laughed, spinning in his desk chair. ‘I don’t know. I don’t like science fiction.’ ‘Scotty, you’re going to watch that. That’s my mission this year.’

3 MONTHS AGO

‘I can’t believe you dragged me to this.’ ‘Dude. You won’t get carded.’ ‘… Fine. But still,’ Stiles waved his hands at the bar, ‘Instead of learning, like I should, you dragged me to a concert.’ ‘Where I’ll be playing!’ Stiles rolled his eyes aggressively. He wasn’t a fan of punk pop, which Scott knew, so he had no idea why he had asked Stiles to come. Perhaps for moral support. But couldn’t he, like, support him from his room?

‘Look. I’ll buy you as many beers as you want, at we’re back at uni in three hours,’ Scott sent him the warm smile that seemed to be his brand. Stiles rolled his eyes, answering his smile with a pat on his shoulder. ‘Okay.’ ‘Thanks, man.’

An hour later, Scott and the band, named “Alpha Pack”, were bringing the entire pub into a frenzy. Mosh pits being made as the music swelled, people (read: girls) screaming as the lead singer, Isaac, came forward towards the stage. Stiles snorted. Why was he wearing a scarf? Isn’t that hot?

His eyes drifted to Scott whose hands swiftly strummed chords, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. Speaking of hot.

It was a fact that Scott was a handsome boy. It was objective. Grass in green, a couch is a piece of furniture, Scott is handsome. It wasn’t like Stiles had felt any attraction towards him. But… Well, Scott looked very nice right now. 

Stiles was familiar with these feelings though. They didn’t scare him. He has only had girlfriends, but he knew he liked boys as well. There just haven’t been great candidates around. The topic of relationships hasn’t come up yet between them, but he assumed Scott was straight. Not because he knew, more so to protect himself. He had a strong sense of self-preservation, including protecting his heart. This guy had to be his roommate for a year, he’d rather keep things friendly and light. No need to make things intense and heavy. But in that moment he couldn’t help wondering what Scott’s lips tasted like.

*

‘What did you think?’, Scott asked, huffing and cheeks red. He plopped down next to him. ‘Like I said, not my thing. But you did ah, you did good,’ Stiles patted his on the back, pursing his lips into a smile. His perverted thoughts about Scott were shoved to the back of his mind and slowly withering. It was probably the heat, Stiles thought. He gave his beer to Scott. ‘Thanks.’ Stiles observed the people around them, ‘You have a lot of fangirls.’ Scott grinned cheekily. ‘Yeah. This girl, Malia, came up to me when I was cleaning up.’ Stiles briefly remembered the girl. Tall, confident, blond-brownish hair. Pretty. ‘So, you got her number?’ Scott shook his head, suddenly appearing very shy. ‘No. I mean, she gave it to me. But… I don’t… I don’t like girls.’ Stiles eyebrows rose involuntarily, and Scott winced. ‘No!,’ Stiles yelled out, panicked, ‘I’m not homophobic or anything. Just surprised.’ Scott visibly relaxed. ‘Thank God. I thought I had to pretend to be straight for an entire year.’ ‘Nah. I’m bisexual, so.’ Scott smiled, ‘Cool.’

2 MONTHS AGO

‘Ah, come on!’, Stiles yellow, throwing popcorn at the screen.

With the money Scott earned with playing gigs and Stiles’ shifts at the University coffee shop, they were able to buy a tv from Craigslist. It was honestly one of their best investments yet. As of right now, a lacrosse game was on, and the team was playing terribly. A week ago, they found out they both played lacrosse. The only difference was that Scott was captain for three years, whilst Stiles… well, he usually sat on the bench. Scott snatched the bowl from him. ‘Stop throwing the popcorn!’ ‘They deserve to be hit with something.’ ‘Throw your socks or something.’ Stiles sputtered out a laugh. ‘Whatever.’ They missed again. ‘Alright!’, he shot upright, throwing a sock at the screen. Scott laughed. ‘I can’t see more of this. I’m gonna shower.’ ‘Leaving me alone with this horrible game?’, Scott gasped, eyes dancing amusedly. ‘Yes. Goodbye.’

As Stiles wandered towards the common showers, a small smile played on his lips. Scott and him had become great friends over the past two months. He’d never had a best guy friend in high school, as most of his friends were girls. Boyd was fun, but they never connected on a deeper level.

‘Fuck my life.’ Stiles had forgotten to bring his clothes. Knowing how college students were, he either made it to his bedroom with a few chuckles of passer-by’s, or someone snatched his towel away. It was one or the other. Stiles prayed it was the first. Sneakily, he sprinted through the hall, tightly holding on to the blue towel around his waist. His door was in sight. Smiling relieved, he busted through the door, smashing it shut. ‘What the fuck happened?’, Scott asked, frowning. ‘Oh.’ ‘Yeah, I forgot…’, Stiles lingered off, suddenly feeling very conscious of his body. Scott was fixated on his chest, staring at it in a way that made Stiles feel funny. ‘I ah, forgot my clothes.’ It seemed to snap Scott out of whatever daydream he was in, flushing red slightly. ‘Right. Uh. Yeah. I’ll,’ he pointed to the tv-screen, stepping backwards and bumping against the couch, ‘ouch. Anyway. He abruptly turned around, leaving them both red faced. Stiles quickly grabbed some clothes and dressed himself in the bathroom. As he sat back down on the couch, a weird energy surrounded them. ‘What’s the score?’, Stiles asked, anything to erase the intensity of the situation. ‘It’s over. The other team won.’ ‘Fucking hell,’ Stiles grumbled. Scott chuckled.

*

‘So, you like him?’, Kira’s voice said. He pressed the button of “speaker”, so he could fold his laundry. ‘Yeah.’ ‘And he’s gay?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘So why won’t you ask him out?’, she sounded exasperated. Stiles smiled. Kira was always one that loved a good romance. ‘Because,’ he trailed off, thinking of all the horrible scenarios that could happen. He’d reject him, he’d laugh at him, things would get awkward, he’d get jealous if Scott brought a guy in their dorm. ‘If it doesn’t work out, it’ll be awkward.’ ‘Or he doesn’t reject you and you live happily ever after.’ ‘I thought I’d be living happily ever after with Lydia and look what happened,’ he grumbled, throwing a flannel in his dresser. ‘Do you still talk to her?’, her voice seemed further away, he subtly heard papers ruffling. ‘Yeah. Sometimes.’ ‘That’s good,’ he heard her smile, ‘Anyway, has he showed any interest?’ ‘Well… he does sit close to me on the couch, but maybe he’s just a touchy person.’ ‘Or he likes you.’ ‘And he has looked at my chest when I was half naked in our room?’ She sputtered, ‘Was that your way of flirting?’ ‘No!’, he yelled, blushing, ‘It was an accident.’ ‘Of course,’ Kira quickly replied, ‘but you have to consider it, Stiles. Maybe he does like you, or has thought about you differently. I mean, it must be fate, right? Two guys, attracted to the same sex-‘ ‘I like girls too.’ ‘- in the same dorm room. He’s your type, and there’s a big chance you’re his type as well.’ ‘But.’ ‘No, buts.’ ‘I swear to God, Stiles. If you don’t ask him out, I’ll hunt his phone number down and do it for you.’ Stiles’ eyebrows rose, grabbing his phone. ‘Please don’t,’ she’d actually do it. He knew that. ‘I won’t if you do it.’ ‘… Fine. Not today, though. But I will.’ ‘Good.’

1 MONTH AGO

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Stiles was sitting on the curb at the front of a fraternity house, music booming from inside and red solo cups scattered on the ground. A nearly empty can of beer was in his hand as he stared in front of him, eyes terrified as he recalled what happened. He kissed Scott.

It was honestly an accident.

Isaac had invited them. He was in this fraternity (Stiles couldn’t remember the name, he was a bit drunk. Just a little bit, though.) and as Scott was part of the band, it was expected of him to come. Naturally, Scott took Stiles with him. Over the past months, they’ve been nearly glued to the hip. He didn’t know why, it just worked. They clicked.

They’d all been dancing to the music, drinking beer after beer, and suddenly there were shots, and then there was this girl who looked a lot like Lydia and then he took another drink and then

And then his lips were on Scott’s for a good ten seconds before he realised what he was doing and ran away.

And here he was now. ‘You always fuck everything up,’ he mumbled, angry drunk tears falling from his eyes. It was December, not even the new year and he’d already made things go south.

He licked the last bit of beer from the can, crushing it and throwing it on the ground. He stood up, dusted the dirt of his jeans and began walking to the dormitories. It was only three miles anyway.

NOW

They haven’t talked about it. It was three weeks ago. Stiles sighed, looking up from his workbook and staring at the corkboard in front of him. Scott’s presence was tangible. They were both intensely studying for the exams, spending even more time together as they hardly left this room. The last time Stiles had gone out was six hours ago, which was for breakfast.

‘Do you wanna grab lunch?’, Scott’s voice suddenly broke the silence, making him jump in his seat. ‘Sorry.’ Stiles shrugged. ‘Yeah, sure,’ he rolled away from his desk, stood up and grabbed his bomber jacket. ‘Where d’you wanna eat?’ Scott stared at him for a moment. Stilese’ eyes flickered downwards. He had a feeling something was going to happen. Something bad. ‘Why aren’t we talking about it?’, Scott eventually said. ‘Because,’ Stiles tried to find the words. Because I’m ashamed. Because I don’t want to be rejected. Because I like our friendship. Because I like you. ‘it’s awkward. It was an accident.’ Scott crossed his arms, furrowing his brows. ‘An accident?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘So, you didn’t like it?’ ‘Well…,’ Stiles gulped, ‘I did like it. That’s the problem.’ His confession hung in the air like crackling electricity. Scott’s eyes widened exponentially. ‘Oh.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Well…,’ Scott’s warm smile tugged at Stiles’ heartstrings. God damn it, what was this boy doing to him?, ‘Good thing I like you too, then.’