@nitr0dus
he’s not sure why he’s walking out of his apartment right now. like, it doesn’t make sense, right? for him to be sexiled out of the place he’s the only one paying rent for? maybe it’s the initial shock getting to him—i mean, no guy comes home from an eighteen-hour shift expecting an over-glorified squatter making out with some random girl on his couch, so, naturally, as soon as daniel opened that front door, he was quick to immediately close it right after.
but wait, did his eyes deceive him? is ethan really wearing his fucking shirt right now?
“alright, party’s over,” daniel finally greets as he storms back into the apartment with newfound anger and agitation. “you,” he points to the girl. “get out. and that guy—” he points to ethan now. “—is a freeloader who also happens to have a sick case of chlamydia right now. i’d run while you still can.”
so he’s got bad roommate etiquette, sue him. what would you expect a guy to do with nearly 24 hours to himself in an empty studio? so he cleaned up like daniel had asked and went about enjoying his day alone. which—didn’t mean he had to spend it alone alone. and for an above average (if you ask him) looking single dude in nyc on the weekends, nights not spent alone meant nights spent with the company of a warm body.
which, had been a concept that ethan assumed both he and his roommate and majority of the male population understood—as proved by the quick slam of the door just a minute or so ago. “ignore him,” he mumbles into the kiss, thumbing the underwire of her (introducing: casey something from the gyro cart just two blocks from here with the heart stopping smile and pretty hazel eyes; though fair, he’s not looking at either right now) bra. “it’s just my roommate.”
more like, landlord. more like, the generous host he’s been leeching on.
so, when daniel kim bursts back in—he has little to say beyond the frustrated groan that slips out. “dude, seriously?”
ethan pulls back with a scowl, indignation visible on his face when daniel goes further to utterly ruin his game. “C-CHLAMYDIA?” excuse the voice crack, he’s in distress. “yo—stop spreading lies man—hey!—” he reaches out too late for the girl pulling away from his embrace, awkward with her stuttering and quick goodbyes. “he’s just joking, seriously—” but there goes casey something, straight out the door without so much as a goodbye.
"seriously?” ethan redirects his scowl to daniel, nose scrunching in distaste. “why don’t you just go ahead and tell her i got the syph—rude as hell.”
