damianfitz:
“Years of practice,” Damian quips dryly before taking a sip of his latte, crossing his leg over the other. He knows Brooks finds his beliefs rather silly, but it’s only because he hasn’t had years of Catholic tradition shoved down his throat like Damian has his whole life. Not that he claims to know the intricate details of Brooks’ existence. In fact, a lot of what he knows about Brooks comes from observation rather than conversation. Most conversations they have end up much like this, with Brooks wanting to gag once Damian gives his two-cents on the topic. Because usually Damian’s two-cents involve God and Brooks would likely eat a termite-infested table than hear of it.
“It was only a suggestion.” He knows early morning runs aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. “If you prefer weight-training, I do go three times a week,” Damian shares, willing to offer Brooks options on the off-chance that it strengthens their relationship as roommates. He’s always trying to better that bond since it’s in both of their best interest. “Well, only if you take it,” Damian replies. It would be rather pointless if Brooks submits a piece of work for a subject he isn’t even enrolled in. But when he catches the devious glint in his roommate’s gaze, he fears he’s missed a point, which tends to happen when he’s conversing with Brooks since they’re so starkly different. “Um, ‘dude’,” Damian says, the nickname sounding foreign coming from his high-bred mouth, ‘I’d rather you not.” For more reasons than one. “You came up with it, I simply suggested what you should do with it. If anything, the idea is entirely yours. My name shouldn’t be anywhere near your paper,” Damian insists.
Desperate for a topic change, the Boston native shifts the conversation. “Anyway, other than an American Horror Story marathon, what other fun activities did you get to over break?” Anyone who knows Damian would know he fully-intends for finger quotes to accompany that ‘fun’. Because most of what Brooks does, the loud and brazen behavior, is far from anything Damian enjoys. But he’s open to hearing it. The non-believing lifestyle tends to interest him, even if it shouldn’t. It’s just so different from his. He can’t imagine what he would do if he just… didn’t have a set schedule or any obligations or limitations.
Brooks suspected Damian was handpicked by the nuns themselves to be his new roommate, either to get him to change his ways, or just to punish him for it. Literally anyone would have been a better fit, including his annoying blonde friend, because at least she was amusing to make fun of, where Damian would just let it roll off his back, seemingly unfazed by any of his comments.
“Uh, weight training? Again, also not what I was getting at, but at this point I’m just convinced you’re just taking the piss, so props to you,” Brooks groaned. No one could be that oblivious, not even Broadripple’s very own Mr. Perfect.
Wait, were his eyes betraying him, or did he finally manage to to rile the older boy up just a little with his teasing? The fear of getting in trouble almost made the other seem human. Almost. “Dude, I would have never even considered writing it down if it wasn’t the fact that you continuously inspire me to do better, so I can’t possibly take full credit,” he insisted, a little smirk curving his lips as he reached out his hand to give Damian’s a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s really not a big deal. I got you, mate.”
It was obvious the other urgently wanted to change the subject, and while Brooks enjoyed watching him sweat a little, he admittedly loved talked about himself a lot more. “I managed to sneak out of the house at night a bunch of times. Granny’s been losing her hearing, which made it a lot easier,” he explained, grinning. “Blue Hills is a snooze, but the chicks are surprisingly good looking, and a lot less prudish than the girls here, so, I basically helped a couple of them sneak out, and I climbed into a few windows.”
