this ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be, what can I say, today has been a day... anyways, enjoy! If y'all like this kind of stuff let me know and I'll try and do more of it!
I think that Gale would either be the most pretentious English major you've ever seen, or like a theoretical physicist, there is no middle ground, the man has no chill
You guys met in your first year attending one of the library's resource evenings, like the ones where they teach you how to write an essay, or do citations properly, or use the university database to find papers
not that either of you strictly needed it, but both of you drawn to the idea of preparedness
I think you'd bond over something deeply stupid, like the speaker would use an example academic text that had like "then I did..." or some other kind of non academic writing, and both of you had been similarly aghast, which lead to conversation
you find common ground over the way you both have absolutely zero chill about your studies, you'd both come alone (the first weeks of uni finding friends scramble is difficult when you're weird and probably neurodivergent)
Doesn't take long before you're grabbing coffee during lecture breaks, or arranging study sessions together, and when Gale's lease is up and you get tired of overpaying for your tiny second hand rented apartment it only seems logical that you move in together
living together is easy, for the most part
you have the same fucked up schedule, both of you vaguely nocturnal
Gale's cat, Tara, hates you at first, but it doesn't take long before she warms up to you (a few treats here and there go a long way)
You try and eat meals together when you're both home, and it becomes a way to make sure that both of you have had at least one solid meal a day, scheduling time to sit down and watch your favorite shows together while you eat
you cook together on Sundays, preparing meals for the week ahead, and it's just half a day spent goofing off in your apartment's tiny kitchen, listening to music and having fun
Gale cooks for you often, especially if he knows you've had a tough day
you try and repay the favor, but he's a better cook than you are, so often you just settle for his favorite take out - from the Indian place down the block.
your shared space turns chaotic during midterms and finals, you both try and keep it from getting out of hand, but it always ends up cluttered. Textbooks, notes, laundry, dishes.. You'd gotten a big kitchen table, arguably too big for the space, when you moved in so that you can study together
you have your own desks, in your own rooms, but during stressful times you both prefer sitting out at the kitchen table
you take turns having breakdowns over your exams and essays, alternating who gets up to refill the coffee thermos. You'll go far into the night, ordering pizza at midnight for fuel, but always reach a point around 2am where the productivity goes away and you just talk
talk about your dreams, what you're going to do when you graduate, what you want to become, what you want to do with your lives.
and it's late, and you probably have class, or exam review, or god forbid an actual exam the next morning, and what feels like 400 deadlines loom over you, but it's so nice, just talking, that both of you end up on the couch, Tara snuggled against either of you, just talking.
and it's nice, because it feels like you actually understand each other, understand the motivations, the struggles, where you come from, where you're going
there is this silent agreement, this tangible understanding, it's comforting feeling like someone gets it
Gale tells you about his fears, his reputation as the golden boy, the good one, and how scared he is that he's not going to be able to live up to their expectations
You tell him about how you're scared that you were never meant to amount to much at all, and how it should feel freeing, having people assume the worst about you, there is only one way to go, up, if they assume you can't and you do then that's proof, but it gets tiring, being underestimated
somewhere around 4am you find that you've gravitated closer together, maybe it's the sharing of tightly gripped truths that has pulled you from your end of the couch and him from his, or maybe it's just Tara, curled against Gale, but so soft and purring when you pet her
and it's 4 in the morning, and you've both been going since 8am the previous day, and it's finals and everything feels like it's too much, and neither of you want to move away
so you doze off on the couch together, curled into each other, comfortable with Tara between the two of you purring like an engine. And it's nice, when your head tucks itself under his chin, and his arm tightens over your shoulders
it feels just as natural as everything else has felt, getting to know each other, shaping your lives around each other, constants, fixed points.. it's the best you've slept in weeks.
name: Ezra Daoud
age: 24
occupation: student at University of Marlington
residence: Marlington - flat share roomate
family: sister Yuna - their parents
role: minor supporting character (2nd-2 core3)
Ezras sister Yuna Daoud
-> next
next character card -> Yuna Daoud
visualizing for my novel I'm writing character- and worldbuilding>
under the #TiKayS - Flüsterholz all stuff around
under the #Flüsterholz char sheet all character sheets published
under character list - all chars in alphabetic order
thanks to all cc creators 🫶
Word Count: 826 | TW: Roommate Rivalry | POV: Third Person | By: MultifandomHC | Themes: angst, a happy ending, Dean being a stubborn little shit | Reqs are open!
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Castiel sat outside of his own dorm, locked out and leaning against the door. Dean was acting disproportionately to the situation at hand, he was being completely childish. In what world was it a sane reaction to lock somebody out of their own home? Castiel had no idea what he had done, but he knew it was nothing that could gain this sort of reaction out of Dean. So he frowned, staring at the door as he pulled his lips into a thin line. What could he do, what could he say, to help resolve this situation? To try and play it civil?
He and Dean didn’t exactly get along like good old friends, they were however known as the college’s 'biggest rivals.' From constant pranks to genuine fights, they ruled the campus’s top drama blog. And yet, the head of campus had paired them as dorm mates. Castiel had tried to be civil, but the eldest Winchester brother made it extremely hard. Especially when doing stupid shit like this.
"Dean, let me in." Castiel demanded, voice gruff as it broke through the silence that was gathering between them through the oak door.
There was shuffling heard on Dean’s end, the familiar sound of feet scuffing on carpet as the boy approached from the other side.
"Why should I?" Dean asked, tone clipped and irritated, though Castiel had no idea why.
"Because I live here." Castiel seethed, resting his forehead against hard surface that separated them.
"Not good enough." Dean said, his footsteps starting to dull as he seemed to walk away.
"Dean! Wait!" Castiel called urgently, his pride wounded as he begged at his own door for permission to come inside.
"…What?" Greeted him after a few long seconds of agonising silence.
"Why are you not letting me in?" Castiel asked, running a hand down his face as he turned to rest his back against the door. He genuinely wanted to find a solution to their problem.
"Because I don’t want you here, go stay somewhere else." Dean huffed in response, which made Castiel’s patience wear thin.
"Dean, who else am I meant to stay with?" He growled, pinching the skin between his brows in frustration as he puffed a loud huff of air from his lungs.
"I dunno, maybe go ask your new girlfriend. The one who can’t stop drooling all over you." Dean hissed from his side of the door, tone sounding decidedly…
"Dean. Are you jealous? " Castiel asked, his eyes widening at the realisation.
"What!? No!" Came Dean’s defensive reply, and Castiel knew then and there exactly what the issue at hand was.
"Dean, she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking." Castiel said, a small smile pulling at his lips as he turned to face the door, amusement starting to build in his chest.
"Oh." Was the reply, sounding wounded, defeated, and Castiel decided stupid, as well.
"Yes, now may I come in?" Castiel asked, crossing his arms over his chest, warmth spreading throughout.
There was silence for a few moments before the door’s top lock chain was unhooked and the doorknob was twisted. Dean stood on the other side, red in the face and pouting slightly. Castiel smirked softly at the display, tilting his head as he leaned against the doorframe, this new discovery making him feel rather prideful.
"Don’t look at me like that." Dean huffed, turning around with an eye roll as he walked back inside.
"Like what, Dean?" Castiel shot back with ease, closing and locking the door behind him before heading off in Dean’s direction.
"In that weird menacing way you do." Dean groaned in response, moving to sit at the dining room table, head held in his hands, much like he had a hang over.
"Weird and menacing?" Castiel asked with a scoff, standing in front of Dean as the man sat, hands on hips.
"Yes! Like what you’re doing right now!" Dean growled, gesturing wildly with his free hand in Castiel’s way.
"Yeah, sure, Dean." Castiel chuckled, shaking his head.
It makes sense now, Castiel thought as he looked down at Dean from his position, a small smirk tugging at the curve of his lip. What comes with being rivals, is being the centre of each other’s attention. When that attention was drawn away, Dean must’ve felt betrayed. Forgotten. Meg wasn’t Castiel’s girlfriend, though they’d make out for fun at parties. Dean must’ve seen them together at some point, and assumed they were an item. Oh Dean, sweet and silly Dean, came Castiel’s next thought.
"Well, no need to lock me out in the future, you’ve got my undivided attention, sweetcheeks." Castiel teased, leaning down to give a peck to Dean’s forehead.
"Eugh- man! Gross!" Dean hissed, smearing the wet spot on his skin with the back of his hand.
"Love you too, Winchester." Castiel chuckled out, walking into his room and closing the door behind him.
Oh, if only he knew.
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NOTE: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Any feedback or commentary is always appreciated! — Now on AO3 !
i had my college orientation last weekend and i got to test out sharing a dorm with my roommate! we’ve been talking for a few weeks now and became fast friends.
the whole roommate situation in college had been worrying me because it would be really hard to hide my regression, which is usually a big part of my life especially when i’m under stress.
i mustered up the courage to tell her about my age regression and she was totally chill with it! she’s a psychology major so she’d actually heard of it before and was not surprised at all lol
she was so nice about it and we even came up with a little emoji code to signify that i’m regressed because it’s hard for me to talk about it sometimes (🌼)! i’m so happy and feel very lucky <3
Summary: How I think things would be if you were raising a little girl with the roommates you knew back in college.
Warnings: Just the reader's ex not being present in the delivery room.
A/n: I need to get better at describing things and wording. I hope you enjoy this blurb for the growing PB & JJ tag! <3 (Need them to Canon somehow ISTG)
You’re rudely shaken awake by Johnny, who’s standing over you like an eager dog waiting for breakfast to be served. The sudden departure from deep sleep leaves you a little disgruntled. God, what is it this time? You let out a low “mmm” as you slowly sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. It’s still dark mostly, with a little gray light illuminating Johnny from behind, your bedroom is slowly becoming more and more solid, and the small static dots in your vision fade as you try to keep them open for your very animated golden retriever of a boyfriend and whatever he’s geeking out about.
“Baby, what time is it, and why are you here??” You glance bleary-eyed at the blonde man you love so dearly (most of the time), standing beside your bed and looking down at you with loving eyes you can still see in the dimly lit darkness of your couple’s bedroom. He has that very distinctive grin plastered on his face that tells you it’s actually worth the unannounced wake-up call. “It’s only 4:30,” he whispers. Stopping your protest before it even leaves your lips.
“Cmon, the nursery we go, toots.” he pulls you eagerly by your wrist out of bed, yanking you up, letting you lean against him, keeping in mind you’re bone tired and he woke you up at a very strange hour.
But the mention of the nursery down the hall makes you snap out of it, worry filling you for a split second. "Is she-" Johnny shushes you, reassuring you immediately that your daughter is fine, great even, Bob's with her. He smiles as you sigh in relief and leads you out of your room and down the hall. The hallway is dimly lit, the faint sound of the floor creaking under your feet the only disturbance in the tranquility of the (very) early morning. Johnny's gentle arm around your waist is warm, and you can feel the calming texture of his vintage, sleep shirt against your cheek. You catch a whiff of his familiar aftershave mixed with the faint scent of comforting vanilla that lingers in the air from the many fragrance diffusers you use to lavish the house with. Johnny is buzzing with excitement beside you, his energy infectious as he eagerly guides you toward the nursery.
When you see the doors open and a soft lamplight spilling onto the floor, you could’ve sworn you closed the door to the room before you fell asleep earlier. You reach the open doorway, and as the two of you step inside, you find the culprit; Bob, lying on the couch on his side, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around your daughter, Leia. His arms swaddled her with the right amount of comfort and security a tiny thing like her needs. It’s almost too perfect to be subconscious how he never lets his hold on her slip, his large, gentle hand cradling the back of her head against his chest, and his other arm supporting her back as they sleep so close together.
“Oh, oh my god...” you breathe out in awe.
They look so cute together with the moonlight that’s slipping in through the blinds like the moon is trying to get a peek, wanting a chance to view the endearing sight going on in the room. The soft blue-ish hue adds to the serene atmosphere, lighting the hand-painted animal murals all over the walls in such a fantasy-esque fairy glow. You glance at Johnny, who gestures with his head to the corner of the room, opposite the couch with the sleeping baby and Bob. As if it couldn’t get any sweeter, you see Joaquin and Peter in the two beanbags you had put in the corner as places to sit and nurse or play. They’re also asleep with Joaquin’s head against Peter’s shoulder and Peter’s head on top of Joaquin’s. Supporting each other as always, even as they rest, you think fondly to yourself, not stopping the smile that crosses your lips as you take in the view. Wanting to picture it and keep it stuck in time forever. But you can’t bring yourself to move from the beautiful sight in front of you; you need to not miss a moment of bonding between your roommates and daughter.
“Ain’t that sweet?” Johnny brings your head to his chest, wrapping his arms around you to bring the two of you even closer. “You glad I woke you up now?” he teases softly, pressing a kiss as an apology for doing so at this godforsaken hour. Nodding, you look up at your boyfriend, “I’m guessing she woke up upset, and I was too tired to hear her call?”. Johnny confirms your tired suspicions. He explains that Leia woke up crying, and Bob was the first to come to her side and comfort her. Peter and Joaquin filed in soon after the baby was feeling better.
“You should’ve heard them, babe, with the amount of cooing and chirping they were doing, you would’ve thought she was a bird feeder they were surrounding,” the man jokes, looking on at the three other men with gratitude and slight disbelief. You glance up and notice the look in his eyes, smirking a little, as if he wouldn’t have done the same for the little girl he loves so much, as if he were her biological father. All five of the men you live with adore your daughter, and you adore them for how far they’ve come to be as caregivers.
These boys you trusted with anything and everything, ever since you all sat together in a college course for History. They never let it slip through they’re fingers on purpose, accidents happened, and they did everything they could to make it right, no matter what it was that upset you (and you always made sure you returned the sentiment). Whether it was eating your special snacks you had stashed away for when your time of the month started, to the major fights about some stupid college decisions you all made. Like that time they caught you trying to drink past your limit of coffee and energy drinks as an attempt to keep yourself up for an all-nighter for an important test the next day.
When you first brought her into the world a few years after graduating, the father of the girl was a no-show, which made the delivery way more painful than it should’ve been that day. Realizing the bastard you had created a child with wanted nothing to do with her and you when it mattered.
Not that that was the first indicator of that truth, but it made it more real than you feared. You could see him pulling away; the closer the due date loomed over you, the further he seemed to want to be from you. He was not as present with you, slowly acting disinterested in the many hardships of carrying a baby, and he made no effort to hide his worsening disengagement.
Once the doctors and nurses left with newborn, little Leia. You were all alone on that cot, betrayed, devastated, and bleeding inside and out, the hurt tearing you apart, the way he left you at such an important time in your life. Your lower half was sticky with blood and sweat, every muscle sore from the amount of pain that wracked through them for hours on end, from the effort of delivering your first child, along with the tightness in your chest and throat from breathing so heavily, and the added pain of your heartache. None of it made the cracks in your heart and self-worth seal back up.
Holding a cleaned-up and perfectly healthy Leia close to your chest. Feeling her mumble and quiver against your damp skin helped some of the fractures close back up, but the hurt still poured out into every part of you through the cracks still left open. Nothing would fully heal the tear that son of a bitch left in you.
Well, that was until your four friends popped their heads into your hospital room like four bright suns peeking over the horizon, ready to say hello that very next day. They arrived at sunrise, making it feel like they made the sun rise just for you. Because they knew what a piece of shit like your ex would pull after hearing what was happening during your pregnancy.
Johnny made his way to you first, firing off questions without a breath between them, and you just smiled appreciatively up at him the entire time, the first smile in hours. Joaquin, Peter, and Bob went to say hi to the newborn as they realized he was going to be rooted to your bedside for a long damn time. You saw how attentive and sweet they were to her, softly saying hi in that high-pitched tone you’ve only ever heard them use on dogs (or heard them scream when they found a mouse in the college apartment), where in their places should have been the man you trusted with her childhood. Watching them, not him, treat Leia like she was a precious little jewel to protect. It was enough to affirm your heartbroken state; you and the baby would be fine when you left this hospital room.
No wonder, because they had been reading stacks and stacks of baby care books like it would’ve been a test at the end of a semester. Bob told you the day you and Leia came back to your home, it’d been the only type of literature they’d pick up since you told them the exciting news that you were pregnant. Nine months of only how to raise and care for a newborn, you almost felt bad for them. How did they not get bored with the same facts and tips in different words and fonts? They were so prepared and ready, you felt almost underprepared in comparison.
You and Leia were worth the daily, repetitive library visits, apparently in their eyes.
Now she’s five months old and surrounded by nothing but love, safety, and some overboard spoiling from your roommates (Joaquin and Johnny are your main culprits; you have to remind them regularly that a bank account isn’t infinite). According to the doctor, she’s healthy and growing right on track, nothing looks wrong, and she’s nursing just fine. She’s starting to grow more dark wisps of chestnut brown hair on her little head, like a fuzzy little peach that never seems to lose its soft touch. So much so that even Peter and Joaquin have started calling her “peach” as one of the many cutesy nicknames you hear thrown around the house. Adding onto the list after “Lee, Lele, sweets, sweetie, hon, little sun, tiny dancer, and Princess”.
Developing small quirks like making a trilling noise, trying to copy Joaquin’s way of rolling his R’s, or the cute flapping movement she does with her arms, which was taught to her by Peter, making her look like a spider trying to crawl on an invisible wall. As well as becoming a little too smart for a five-month-old, she picks favorites almost like she knows it’ll pit the boys against each other, as a game for her own enjoyment.
Wanting to be in Peter’s arms, doing the grabby hands at him from across the room. The young man granted her a little wish, bouncing and patting her back. He explains he’s recreating his Aunt May’s technique when she babysat other kids when he was younger. It works like a charm on your girl who coos softly into his shoulder. A content moment passes before Leia perks up and starts acting all squirmish to be with Bob next, lying all comfy on his chest, grasping at the cotton of his signature navy blue sweater.
“Oh, c'mon, Lee, we were just having fun, weren’t we?” Peter fake pouts as Joaquin carried the baby girl over to Bob, who was lounging on the other end of the living room couch. Bob takes her into his arms and lies her down on top of him. “I guess it’s my turn now, hey, little one.” Despite the permanent hesitancy he seems to carry around with him, he’s never looked happier to be chosen to spend time with your daughter. He even booped her nose with his finger as she lay on him so contentedly. “Little Traitor,” muttered Peter with a playful smirk on his face.
Of course, at the end of the day, she’ll always be your little girl first and foremost, always her first choice the minute she hears your voice or she knows you're nearby.
The next day, you woke up well-rested to the sound of chatting, Leia giggling, and something sizzling on the stove. Sliding out of bed to grab your robe and slip into it, you head downstairs to see what’s got Leia all squealy and excitable.
Of course, Joaquin was already playing with her to keep her distracted long enough for you to wake up to feed her. It seems she was already taken care of, mostly for the day, already dressed in the red and blue striped onesie that Peter had sewn for her, and not a single cry has been heard yet. The boys had brought out her play mat and laid her down on the carpeted floor of the living room. Where Joaquin was hunched over her, tickling her tiny feet and poking her cheeks gently, making her smile and kick. Smiling at each other so affectionately, you were sure Leia could feel all the adoration Joaquin was directing at her in every little part of her tiny body.
“Found myself a snack,” Joaquin says, seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Smirking playfully your way as you walk closer with an empty mug meant for morning tea. You roll your eyes in return, “Are you threatening to eat my daughter, Torres?” You quirk an eyebrow, almost daring him to try. “What if I do? Then what, mama bear?” His playful smirk grows wider and he leans down and takes her feet in his hands and pretends to chow down. Leia loves it, moving her arms gleefully with little hiccuppy giggles filling the air. Joaquin laughs alongside the baby, kissing her cheek over and over again, making her hiccup more and more.
“Jesus, Angelita, easy, you’re gonna give me a toothache with how sweet you are”.
You chuckle under your breath as he continues to shower her with affection. Leia turns her head and starts making that delightful trilling noise, which you’ve come to translate as “mommy come here” when it’s directed at you. Joaquin hears it too and praises her for getting closer to rolling R’s like he does, “good job, pequeña!, You’re getting so good at it!” A chuckle leaves your lips as you sit beside Joaquin, setting your mug onto the coffee table behind you and him. “Hi, girlie...sleep well with Uncle Bob?” you ask, slowly picking her up and placing her against your chest. She gurgles in response, obviously in a very chatty mood today, “Yes? Bob is very comfy to sleep on, isn’t he?” You chime, brushing your hand over the top of her head gingerly, while Leia just smiles and continues to gurgle in your arms.
As if on cue, the man walks in, the full just-rolled-out-of-bed package. Mussed up brown locks of curly hair that’s layered funny in the back, same with he clothes he’s still wearing.. He appears quite happy to have been left alone to sleep in; he deserves it for using himself as a human heat pad, as Leia fell back asleep last night. When he sees you, little Leia, and Joaquin, he clears his throat to get your attention. Greeting the three of you with a good morning.
Then he stops and turns to you, “Hey, I didn’t crush her in my arms, right? She’s okay?” he asks, fidgeting sheepishly with his sweater sleeve, to which you just nod gratefully his way, “No, Bob, you were perfect, thank you for soothing her last night when I was bone tired”. Bob lets out a relieved sigh, glad to know he did good with Leia. “Okay, thanks-thanks for letting me know...I see she’s doing ok-okay”.
Leia wiggles around in your hold, you think she’s trying to show Bob she’s fine and able to move, “Yeah, I’m good, Uncle!” her little face seems to be saying. You all look down and smile at the movements going on. “She’s great, thanks to you, Bob,” Joaquin praises. “Cranky Lele won’t be making an appearance thanks to you”. Bob shies away from the amount of appraisal Joaquin is showering him with. “Don’t-don’t jinx it,” he mutters, stepping closer even as his cheeks go a slight shade of embarrassed pink. The man just shrugs and looks up at his pal, “Oh, c'mon, if we do end up jinxing it, I’m sure you could work your baby whisperer magic and keep her calm again”.
“You-you really think so?” It dawns on Bob just how far he’s come; before, he was so tentative to even go near Leia. He voiced his concerns over feeling not so confident with a baby, despite reading almost twice the number of parenting books as Peter did, just so he wouldn’t feel so out of his depth. He was so fearful of messing up somehow that he seemed to be hesitant to even begin. Now here he was, sleeping with her, calming her down, and being entrusted so deeply with her by you, her mother, and his friends. It’s growth you knew was possible for him; he just needed a reminder that he was capable of caring for such a tiny thing like your little girl to start his journey. Bob’s smile grows slightly more confident, and his posture straightens up more . “Wow...uh-okay”.
Once the baby and you have eaten, things calm down as the six of you chill with the TV in the background in the common area. Peter and Joaquin are discussing with you the new toys or gadgets they’re developing for the baby girl, with ideas ranging from a simple moving toy she can crawl around after to a voice-activated music box that plays your lullaby when it hears a whimper or a cry. Bob is sitting with Leia on the armchair to your right, holding onto her tiny hands and bouncing her gently in his lap. Listening intently to the ideas that the two tech geniuses are excitedly sharing with you. Johnny lounges lazily on the other couch, resting his head on a pillow with his arms around it. Glancing between you and Leia, watching the girl carefully for any shift in mood.
Leia looks up at Bob expectantly for his attention, and he looks down and raises his brows. “Bored with me already?” he quietly jokes, preparing to pick her up and hand her over to whoever she wants to be with. “Who is it this time?” he looks around, tracking her gaze to the person she’s looking at, tracking them to Johnny. “Oh-I see, uh, Storm?” Johnny looks over with a quick nod, “Hm?”. Bob just lifts the baby with him and walks over, and Johnny instinctively sits up to receive her safely. “There we go, yeah, that better?” Johnny asks as she settles into Johnny’s chest. Grasping at his t-shirt, looking between him and Bob. Almost like she’s still not sure if she made the right choice, both men wait patiently for her to decide. She lies on Johnny’s chest, and both chuckle amusedly at her confirmation.
“Alright, Uncle Johnny, it is,” Bob smirks, going back to the armchair and plopping back down. Johnny shrugs with pride, “Don’t take it so personally, Bob, I just happen to be her favorite, we all know this”. Bob rolls his eyes. “Sure, Johnny...” he responds softly. “What? It’s not my fault, I just get extra points because I just so happen to be dating the most gorgeous mother in all of New York,”. He raises his voice slightly so you hear his flirty praise, and the three of you turn to him with equal amounts of mirth and exasperation.
“There he goes with extra points for dating you, bullshit again,” Peter snickers, leaning back against the couch casually. You grin and nod along. It’s been happening since you started dating the man; it doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon.
“You know she doesn’t have favorites besides her mom, right, Storm?” Joaquin adds. Bob chuckles along with him, “We all know no one comes close to mom”. You beam smugly, taking a sip of tea, glancing at Johnny over the rim of the mug, “yep, I’m the only favorite parent around here, babe”. Johnny smirks, “I know, but hey, I don’t mind second place if it means she likes me the most”. He glances at Leia, “Ain’t that right, sweetie?” matching the small smile that appears on the baby’s face once they lock eyes.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought”. Johnny kisses the dimples in her cheek multiple times, and you feel yourself fall in love all over again.
You come back from the bathroom after a shower, the steam filling you and Johnny’s shared bathroom with a thin air of warmth as you step out. After grabbing a bathrobe and a towel, you walk around, trying to wrap your hair to dry it, walking in on Peter holding her and trying to entice her with a toy of his own creation. Approaching them with your arms folded as you get a better look at the toy, a little robotic-looking mermaid made of some lightweight but durable material he’s used before in other toys. “What’s this one do?” he turns to you and explains that it’s basically a handmade version of those monkeys that clap the cymbals together, but less creepy and traumatizing.
You nod, the memory of those old toys giving you the chills at the thought of their red, swirling eyes and freaky smiles. “Good, don’t want my daughter to be left traumatized like we were”. Peter snorts, giving the toy to her, turning it on for her. She holds it in her hands, watching as the toy moves and its gears turn.
“She’s not scared or throwing it away,” you observe, meeting your daughter’s eyes with a little grin. Peter gives Leia a pleased smile as she places the head of the toy in her mouth, “So far, so good”. The baby continues to fidget with the tiny machine she’s holding while Peter bounces her up and down in his arms. “Oh-” you’re hit with the realization that you might have to leave them in charge of her for a little. Peter looks over “What is it?”. “Can you look after her, once I’m dressed and dry I have some errands to run, so...”
Peter doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Of course, you know we can handle her on our own”. You gently punch his arm as a way of showing gratitude. “God, I am the luckiest woman alive, thanks to you boys, you know that?”. He winces with a sharp laugh, “Ow-yeah, of course, anytime, we got you covered, but I owe you an errand run, okay?” You shake your head adamantly. “You do enough, Peter... no, need”. He sighs, “But I still owe you.” he glances expectantly, waiting for you to agree. “Fine...I’ll keep that in mind, Parker, thanks”.
It's sometimes early in the evening when you come home from a quick errand, and the house is quiet, as promised by Bob. He had texted you updates about every little thing that happened with Leia the entire time you were out. Everyone is comically doing the most to not make a single loud noise, in fear of waking the child upstairs. Johnny paces over to you and greets you. “Welcome back, toots,” he says, before kissing you a few times. “Hi, Bob told me everything,” you whisper back, smiling. Johnny scoffs, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you closer to his front, “He’s a serial note taker, I swear, but can’t fault him for that now, can I? It makes caring for the little one so much easier”. You chuckle with agreement, “thank god for him”.
“Yeah, he and Peter-Oh! which reminds me, you gotta check out the music box he and Joaquin built while you were gone”. You look up in pure excitement and surprise. You couldn’t have been gone for more than three hours, and they built a music box in that time span? How lucky could you have been to have such a talented and attentive group of friends at her side? It overwhelms you sometimes to the point you feel like you have to sit and ponder how you got here.
“Hey-toots, you still with me?” Johnny is waving a hand in front of your face when you come back to the real world. You nod and respond quickly, sheepishly kissing him as an apology for spacing out. He reciprocates, tightening his arms around you, letting out little chuckles in between kisses. It’s not long before you’re pretty much making out in the hall. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling him closer while his own hands encircle your hips, trapping you with him against the wall. It’s a hard thing to balance, being his girl while also being a mother. You two grab whatever alone time you can get.
You’re about to pull away for air when a baby monitor nearby crackles to life with Leia waking up. Johnny loosens his hold on you, and you do the same. He sighs, realizing that the moment is over. “Well, let’s see what she’s got on her mind,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Knowing her,” you say, walking toward the stairs before turning to him, “it’s probably her dad”. You smile and head up to the nursery, leaving Johnny stunned at the upgrade he just received, going from uncle to dad. As you step into the doorway, you faintly hear him celebrating to himself down the stairs. “Yes! yes yes!”. It’s easy to imagine him pumping his fists excitedly before he runs up to join you in greeting his daughter. Watching him play with her and lift her up so lovingly reminds you, for the hundredth time, that you’ve been blessed to find such an amazing group of friends to raise her with.
You’d go through the hell of your ex just to relive the last five months again. All for her and to see Johnny light up so brightly when you referred to him as Leia’s dad. For more moments of finding her asleep with Bob, for the sake of Peter making her anything she wants, and Joaquin being the greatest playmate she could have. You’re both in good hands; you’ll never forget that for as long as she’s happy. Which you hope is all the time for the rest of her life.
Summary:
Parker always thought law school was his dream, but college is wearing him down. As he drowns in stress and doubt, the one thing keeping him afloat is D&D nights with his roommate Chance.
Chapter 1
Parker had stacked himself with as many boxes as he could carry, some in his arms and others clumsily strapped to his back with rope. He hated making multiple trips to the car, so he decided to suffer through it in one go. Huffing and puffing up the stairs to the top floor, he only almost dropped everything once, which he considered a personal win.
By the time he reached his dorm room, sweat had gathered on his brow and his shirt clung uncomfortably to his back. Music drifted out through the door, soft and ambient. Someone was already inside.
Even though this was technically his room too, it felt wrong to just walk in. He set the boxes down with a grunt and knocked hard enough to be heard over the music. The sound stopped a moment later, followed by footsteps, and then the door opened.
Parker wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the guy standing in front of him was not it. Tall, dark-haired, and unfairly attractive, the kind of guy whose jawline probably left dents in pillowcases. For a second, Parker forgot how to function.
Then, much louder than he meant to, he blurted out, “I’M PARKER!”
His face turned red instantly. The stranger let out a quiet laugh and opened the door wider.
“I’m Chance. You must be my roommate,” he said with an easy smile.
Parker cursed internally. Why did his roommate have to be hot?
Trying to recover, he nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, this time in a much more reasonable tone.
He wanted to say more and maybe even seem cool about it, but the rope on his back was digging in and the boxes at his feet weren’t going to move themselves. Just as he leaned forward to pick them up again, Chance beat him to it, grabbing the boxes with ease.
“Here, let me help. You brought a lot,” Chance said as he stepped into the room with them in his arms.
Parker followed him in. The dorm wasn’t huge, but it was clean and had already started to show signs of Chance’s presence. A dice bag and some character sheets were spread across one desk, along with a sketchpad and mechanical pencil.
“You play D&D?” Parker asked.
Chance set the boxes on Parker’s bed, then turned around with a bright grin. “I do. I love it. Do you play too?”
Parker smiled back, a little caught off guard by his enthusiasm. “A few times, yeah. I’m more of a board game guy, though.”
He began untying the rope from his back, revealing several well-worn game boxes inside. Chance looked over with interest.
“Whoa, that’s a solid collection. I’m into board games too. We should definitely play sometime.”
“I’m always down,” Parker said. “Maybe after we finish unpacking?”
Chance gave a sheepish look. “I actually have a party tonight. A back-to-school thing with some friends.”
Parker’s shoulders dropped slightly.
Chance noticed and paused. “Do you want to come? There’s free alcohol.”
Parker thought about it. It had been a while since he went to a party. “Sure. Sounds fun.”
–
After unpacking, Parker almost changed his mind. Both he and Chance were lying in their beds, phones in hand, exhausted. The idea of getting up again felt like a cruel joke.
Chance sat up first and stretched. His shirt lifted slightly, just enough to reveal a narrow trail of hair on his stomach that Parker definitely noticed, then quickly looked away from.
“Ready to go? It’s just a few blocks away,” Chance said, already starting to gather his things.
Parker sat up and yawned. “Should I bring a board game or something?”
Chance glanced at the stack on the floor. “You’ve got Cards Against Humanity. That would be a hit.”
Parker smiled and grabbed the black box, tucking it under one arm. “Alright. Let’s go party.”
Chance laughed as they left the dorm and headed down the street together.
Chapter 2
Parker and Chance walked side by side through the warm, sticky air of the summer night. The sky had darkened to a deep navy, and the hum of crickets filled the silence between their footsteps. The conversation flowed easily, making the heat a little more bearable.
“So, what’s your major?” Chance asked, glancing sideways.
“Law,” Parker replied, trying to sound casual.
Chance raised a brow. “Law? Really? Why would you want to study that?”
Parker straightened his back like he had been through this conversation more times than he could count. “Because it matters. Rules exist for a reason. Society needs structure, and I want to understand how to maintain it.”
Chance let out a short laugh. “I mean, sure, that makes sense. But all those long legal documents? They might as well be written in Klingon.”
“That’s what makes it interesting,” Parker said, eyes bright. “It’s like a puzzle, every word and clause fits together. You just have to figure out how.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun,” Chance said with a grin.
They arrived at a small house tucked into the corner of a side street. It didn’t look too wild. Yellow light spilled from the windows, and the muffled sound of voices and music greeted them before they even reached the porch. Chance didn’t bother to knock and opened the door with practiced ease.
Inside, the party was smaller than Parker had expected. Four people were gathered in the living room, lounging around with drinks and snacks. He had imagined something louder, something with more people where he could blend into the background. But this was intimate. No hiding here.
“Chance!” someone called out, raising their drink in a cheer.
Chance smiled and gave a short wave before turning to Parker.
“Everyone, this is Parker. He’s my roommate. Parker, that’s Jerry and Hector on the couch, Dasha in the chair, and Mac by the fridge.”
The group offered friendly greetings, a few waving from their spots.
“Uh, hey,” Parker said, raising the box in his arms. “I brought Cards Against Humanity if anyone’s interested.”
Mac perked up. “Oh hell yes. That game’s even better when you’re half-drunk.” They tossed Parker a drink from the fridge and wheeled back into the group.
Parker caught the can and smiled. Maybe this would be okay after all.
An hour later, the room was filled with laughter and empty cans. A few rounds into the game and a couple drinks in, Parker felt relaxed and at ease. The group had great chemistry. He learned they had all met during their freshman year when Chance posted online looking for a Dungeons & Dragons group. They had been friends ever since.
Dasha was an architecture major with a sharp tongue and even sharper eyeliner. Mac was deep in computer science and had the dry wit of someone who had coded for too many hours. Hector was a creative writing major who could go from thoughtful to unhinged in a heartbeat. Jerry was technically undecided but had already racked up more credits than most seniors.
The game had hit its stride when Dasha picked up the next black card. She read it aloud with a smirk.
“What’s the worst time to get an erection?”
The group groaned with anticipation as everyone threw in their responses. Dasha shuffled through them dramatically before reading.
“While testifying in court.”
“In the middle of a group hug.”
“Watching Shrek for the fifteenth time.”
“During downward dog.”
She paused, already giggling. “At grandma’s funeral.”
Everyone burst out laughing, with Hector nearly falling off the couch.
Dasha wiped a tear from her eye. “I hate that this one wins, but I also love it. Hector, this has your sick mind written all over it.”
Hector raised his hands in victory. “Never doubt the classics.”
“You’re disgusting,” Jerry said with a grin, nudging his friend with his elbow.
“And yet, I win,” Hector replied.
Parker laughed along, feeling the last of his nerves melt away. These people weren’t just random classmates. They were weird in the best kind of way. And for once, he felt like he might actually belong.
The game wrapped up with Hector as the clear winner, which didn’t come as much of a surprise. His offbeat sense of humor had the group laughing so hard they nearly fell off their seats. After that, things gradually unraveled into scattered conversations, lazy laughter, and half-drunken ramblings passed around like snacks.
Parker sat comfortably among the circle, legs crossed on the carpet with an empty can in hand. He hadn’t expected to feel so at ease, not after years of trying and failing to click with classmates who only talked about exams and internships. This group was different. They joked about dragons and weird professors, debated which Pokémon were secretly hot, and somehow made him feel like he had always been part of it.
Chance glanced down at his phone, then finished off the last of his drink. “Alright, it’s getting late. We should head out,” he said, giving Parker a gentle nudge.
Parker nodded and stood, a bit unsteady. He tossed his empty can into the recycling bin, mentally patting himself on the back for doing his part for the planet. Around them, Mac and Dasha gathered their things as well, calling it a night. That left Hector and Jerry behind, the self-declared hosts of the evening.
Once outside, the cool night air sobered the mood a little, though not Parker’s balance. He swayed just slightly as they walked side by side. Chance didn’t seem the least bit fazed, walking steady with his hands in his pockets. Parker, on the other hand, was definitely tipsy.
“Have fun?” Chance asked, smirking as he glanced over.
Parker gave a big, goofy grin. “Yeah. Your friends are great,” he said, a bit too loud. “I haven’t really had a group like that before. I hope I can keep tagging along.”
He looked over at Chance again. His eyes lingered this time, tracing the line of his jaw, the slope of his neck, the stretch of his shirt across his chest. His brain fizzled out completely. He didn’t even register the uneven sidewalk until it was too late.
He tripped.
Chance reached out to steady him, but Parker was already going down. He hit the pavement with a solid thud.
“Shit, are you okay?” Chance knelt beside him immediately.
Parker groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, even though the scrape burned and the embarrassment burned worse.
Chance helped him up, eyes flicking over him for damage. “That’s definitely going to sting in the morning,” he said. “C’mon. I’m walking you the rest of the way.”
Parker didn’t argue. He let Chance take hold of his arm, steadying him the rest of the walk to their dorm. Every step made the scrape on his forehead pulse, but the warmth of Chance’s hand on his arm was more distracting than the pain.
Once they got inside, Chance unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “Sit down,” he said, already digging through a half-unpacked box. “My mom made me bring a first aid kit.”
Parker hesitated. “It’s just a scrape.”
“It’s a scrape full of dirt and concrete,” Chance countered without missing a beat.
A moment later, he returned with the kit, kneeling beside Parker’s bed where he sat. The antiseptic stung, but Parker barely noticed. He was too focused on the way Chance leaned in close, brow furrowed, mouth slightly parted in concentration.
Chance’s eyes flicked down from Parker’s forehead to meet his gaze. His expression softened into a crooked, easy smile.
“You’re not running a fever, are you?” he asked. “Your face is pretty red.”
Parker quickly looked away. “Probably just the alcohol,” he mumbled.
Or maybe it was the way Chance was so close he could smell the faint trace of beer on his breath. Maybe it was the fact that someone was taking care of him at all.
“Thanks,” Parker added quietly. “For letting me come with you. And for… this.”
“Of course. You’re one of us now,” Chance said. “Everyone loved having you around.”
Parker smiled, warmth blooming in his chest. The sting of the fall had already faded.
“I’d love to hang out again,” he said, voice softer this time. “Thanks, Chance.”
Chapter 3
The past few weeks had passed in a blur of lectures, quizzes, and early mornings. Parker was still adjusting to the rhythm of college life, and it was hitting harder than he expected. His classes were a lot more challenging than he’d anticipated, and no matter how diligently he took notes, he could never quite figure out what was important and what wasn’t. It didn’t help that his law professor spoke in a monotone voice that could lull even the most caffeinated student to sleep. More than once, Parker had walked past slumped-over classmates on his way out of the lecture hall.
Chance, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. He was thriving in his game design courses, often coming back to the dorm with a spark in his eye and pages of sketches or mechanics he wanted to try out. He actually looked forward to his assignments. Parker couldn’t help but envy it. He liked law, at least in theory, but thinking about it all day made his brain feel like it had been wrung out and left in the sun.
It had been one of those days. The kind where Parker wanted nothing more than to shut off his brain and stare at the wall. He walked into the dorm and let his backpack slide from his shoulder to the floor. Chance was seated at his desk, scribbling something down in a notebook that looked suspiciously like his D&D binder. Without a word, Parker collapsed face-first onto his bed with a dramatic groan.
Chance didn’t look up from his work. “Long day?”
“I concede. You were right. Law is boring,” Parker mumbled into his pillow.
“But you still want to do it, right?” Chance finally turned in his chair, his eyes scanning Parker with mild concern.
“I think so,” Parker said, rolling over onto his back. “I still like it… but lately, I just feel numb to it.”
Chance nodded, a thoughtful look settling on his face. “Burnout,” he said plainly. “Have you joined any clubs yet? It helps, having something else to focus on.”
Parker sighed and shook his head. “No. I’ve been too busy just trying to stay caught up. And I don’t even know what I’d join.”
Chance’s gaze flicked back to the notebook on his desk. The campaign he was planning was built for four players, but adding a fifth wouldn’t be hard. He tapped the pen against the page for a moment, thinking it over, then looked back at Parker.
“You could join my new campaign, if you want. We wrapped up the last one a few weeks ago, and I’ve been working on the next one. There’s room.”
Parker blinked. “You’d let me join?”
Chance smiled. “Of course. The more the merrier.”
“I haven’t played D&D in years,” Parker said, finally sitting up on his bed, the exhaustion already starting to fade from his expression.
“Well,” Chance said, flipping a page in his notebook, “then it’s about time you started again.”
Parker felt his chest tighten just a little. Chance had been nothing but kind since they met, always going out of his way to include him, always treating him like more than just a roommate. He had invited Parker into his friend group without hesitation, and over the past few weeks, Parker had grown to really enjoy spending time with all of them. But no matter how many people were in the room, his focus always drifted back to Chance.
It was getting harder to ignore. The way his stomach flipped whenever Chance laughed, the way he caught himself watching him during game nights or study sessions, the way his thoughts lingered a little too long after they’d said goodnight.
Parker liked him. Really liked him. And he was starting to realize that pretending otherwise wasn’t working as well as he thought.
He told himself he was being subtle. That no one could tell. But then he’d catch himself staring just a little too long, or tripping over his words when Chance asked him something simple, and he wasn’t so sure.
“Come on. Let’s make your character. It’ll help take your mind off school for a bit,” Chance said after a long stretch of quiet. His voice pulled Parker out of his thoughts.
Chance rolled his chair to the side and motioned for Parker to come over. Parker grabbed his own chair and scooted in beside him. The desk wasn’t meant for two, so their arms brushed together as they sat shoulder to shoulder. Chance didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t mind.
“Alright,” Chance said, pulling up a blank character sheet. “What class are you thinking?”
Parker didn’t have to think long. “Bard. I always have fun playing bards.”
“Solid choice,” Chance grinned, handing him a pencil.
They started working through the sheet together, filling in stats, talking through spells, tossing out silly ideas for the character’s backstory. Every now and then their arms bumped or their knees knocked under the desk, but neither of them pulled away.
They stayed like that for over an hour. Parker found himself laughing more than he had all week. Chance’s jokes, the way his eyes lit up when he got excited about an idea, even the little dimple in his cheek when he smiled, it all had a way of softening Parker’s stress. For a little while, he stopped thinking about everything else. He just let himself enjoy being there, close to someone who made things feel a little lighter.
Parker finished the final touches on his doodle, sketching out a little flourish next to the character’s name. The stats were filled in, the backstory was complete, and now Schmidley the halfling bard had a face.
“Schmidley’s gonna be a hit with the others,” Chance said, leaning over to get a better look. “Seriously, why aren’t you an art major or something?”
Parker scoffed, but his smile gave him away. “Please. Like I could survive in an art program.”
“You’re literally drawing right now.”
“Yeah, and it’s terrible,” Parker said, even as he held up the paper to admire it. “There are no rules in art. That’s what makes it terrifying.”
Chance let out a short laugh and gave his shoulder a light pat. “Well, I think he’s perfect. You did a great job.”
Parker felt his throat tighten a little at the touch. It was always something small with Chance—a smile, a compliment, a pat on the shoulder that lingered just long enough to mess with his head.
He pushed through it with a grin. “Well, I should hope so. He’s a very impressive halfling.”
He stood up and carefully tucked the character sheet into his binder, wedging it between some folders so it wouldn’t get bent.
“You got anything else planned tonight, or is it just campaign prep?” he asked as he returned to his bed.
Chance shook his head. “Not really. No class tomorrow, so I was thinking about hitting the liquor store. You in?”
Parker thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “Not much of a drinker. Wanna get high instead?”
He looked over his shoulder just in time to catch Chance raising an eyebrow.
“I—” Chance started, then paused for a second. “I’ve actually never tried weed before.”
Parker felt a grin tug at his lips. “Do I get to take your weed virginity?” he asked, a little too cheerfully.
Chance’s face turned bright red. “Don’t say it like that, dude!” he shot back, clearly flustered.
Parker giggled and crouched by the mini fridge, rummaging through a few crumpled snack bags until he found the special chocolate bar tucked behind a can of soda. He held it up triumphantly. “So, what do you say, Chance? You in?”
He unwrapped it and popped a couple of squares into his mouth, barely bothering to chew.
Chance hesitated. Parker caught it in his expression.
“Hey, no pressure,” Parker said quickly, still chewing. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not—”
Chance reached out his hand, not quite meeting Parker’s eyes. “Just give me a piece.”
Parker broke off a chunk and handed it over. Chance tossed it into his mouth, chewed once, and immediately winced.
“Ugh, gross,” he muttered, grabbing his water bottle and taking a few long gulps.
Parker’s gaze lingered on the way his throat moved as he swallowed, and he had to blink himself back into focus.
“Yeah, it’s not exactly gourmet,” he said with a laugh. “But it does the job.”
He wandered over to his collection of board games stacked in the corner and crouched down to look through them. “Let’s play something while we wait for it to kick in.”
Chance followed and crouched beside him, already scanning the titles. “Yeah, alright. Pick something fun.”
They eventually settled on Creature Comforts, Parker pulling the box from the middle of the stack and setting it gently on the desk.
Chance helped clear a space while Parker unfolded the board and began sorting the pieces. There was something peaceful about the way they moved around each other, hands brushing occasionally as they laid out cards and tokens, dice rolling softly against the tabletop.
“I haven’t played this one before,” Chance said as he placed the cottage tokens into a neat pile.
“You’ll love it,” Parker replied, sliding the last player mat into place. “It’s all about building the coziest little life. Total vibe.”
They took their seats, the game fully set up between them, and for a moment they just looked at it, the quiet hum of the dorm surrounding them like a blanket.
“Ready?” Parker asked, one brow raised.
Chance nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 4
The game they played was a long one filled with careful resource hoarding and strategic trading. Each turn brought them closer to building the coziest little burrows for the winter. Parker played as the blue porcupines, while Chance picked the red foxes. It was close, but in the end Parker managed to pull ahead by just a few points.
“Hell yeah!” Parker pumped his fist in the air, grinning. “I’m the coziest critter in these woods, Chance.” He pointed a finger at him with exaggerated pride.
Chance laughed and swatted his hand away. “Alright, alright. It was close. And I’ve never played before, so you had the home field advantage.”
Parker gave a smug little nod. “That’s true. You did great for your first round, though.” He shot him a warm smile.
Chance felt a flush rise to his cheeks. He was definitely starting to feel the effects of the edible now. There was a pleasant fuzziness under his skin, like his body was buzzing softly, and a gentle pressure in his head that made the room feel just a little bit lighter. What didn’t feel gentle was his heartbeat, which had kicked up for no good reason. It wasn’t like anything exciting had just happened. They had been sitting in their dorm, playing a game about woodland animals.
“You feeling it yet?” Parker asked, snapping Chance out of the daze he hadn’t realized he was in. He blinked, realizing he had been staring.
“Yeah,” Chance said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I feel kinda… fuzzy. If that makes sense.”
Parker nodded knowingly. “Yeah, it makes sense. You’re in for a chill night.” He let out a soft laugh. “Wanna order a pizza? Maybe watch a movie or something?”
Chance’s stomach grumbled right on cue. “That sounds perfect,” he said with a grin.
Parker ordered the pizza while Chance packed up the game, carefully returning all the pieces to the box before sliding it back into Parker’s collection. He paused for a moment, taking in the neat rows of board games stacked along the shelf. It was clear Parker took pride in them. The boxes were all in good condition despite the signs of frequent use. There was something endearing about how well cared for they were, how much attention Parker gave them.
It made Chance wonder. Maybe Parker wasn’t as set on law as he thought. Maybe he would do well in game design. Or maybe that was just Chance looking for excuses to share more classes with him.
They had clicked quickly, and Chance liked that it didn’t feel forced. He could talk to Parker like they had been friends for years. It made everything feel easier.
Eventually he pulled himself away from the shelf and flopped down onto his bed. He grabbed his phone to start looking for a movie but found himself just staring at the screen. His mind felt a little foggy, like it had slowed down and was taking its time catching up to his actions.
He only looked up when he felt the bed dip beside him. Parker had sat down, holding his laptop under one arm.
“Finding anything good?” Parker asked.
Chance shook his head. “Still thinking. Also, where are we even going to watch the movie? We don’t have a TV.”
Parker shrugged. “We can use my laptop.”
“But our beds are too far apart to both see it,” Chance pointed out.
“Then we’ll share,” Parker said, grinning. There was a flicker of red on his cheeks, faint but definitely there.
Chance looked from Parker to the narrow twin bed and raised an eyebrow. “I mean… I guess that could work,” he said with a small laugh. “It’ll be a tight squeeze.”
Parker gave Chance a playful wink. “Aw, scared of having a cuddle buddy?” he teased, his tone light and mischievous.
Chance felt his face heat up. “No,” he replied a little too quickly. He winced inwardly at how sharp it came out. What was wrong with him tonight?
He let out a soft sigh and put his phone down. “You choose the movie. I can’t focus enough to pick.”
“You won’t regret letting me choose,” Parker said, grinning as he opened his laptop and started scrolling through titles like he was on a mission. “Hmm, have you ever watched a Ghibli movie?”
Chance looked up at the ceiling, thinking it over. “I think I’ve seen My Neighbor Totoro.”
“Then you have to see Spirited Away,” Parker said brightly. “You love fantasy, right?”
Chance gave a slow nod. “I’ve heard of it before. Sure, let’s watch that.”
Parker gave a small fist pump and beamed. “Hell yeah, it’s one of my favorite movies of all time.”
Chance glanced over at him, watching the way Parker’s eyes lit up as he scrolled through the streaming app. He looked genuinely happy, fully in his element. It made something flutter in Chance’s chest again, that same nervous beat that had followed him all night. But this time, it didn’t feel so bad. In fact, it felt kind of nice.
Soon they were both lying on their stomachs on Chance’s bed, their shoulders pressed together as they squeezed onto the too-small mattress. The movie played quietly between them. After a few scenes, Chance gave up trying to follow the plot. He let the soft colors and flowing animation wash over him instead, the gentle music and strange creatures lulling him into a calm daze.
A masked, shadowy figure appeared on the screen.
“That’s my favorite character,” Parker said suddenly, his voice filled with excitement.
Chance turned to look at him. Parker looked different like this—focused and wide-eyed, completely wrapped up in the story. Chance found himself watching Parker more than the movie. His hair, dyed in scattered colors, looked even messier from this angle, and his eyes seemed impossibly bright in the glow of the screen. Without meaning to, Chance let out a quiet breath.
Parker glanced over at him. Chance’s face flushed as he quickly looked back at the screen, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.
Parker smothered a laugh, but the moment was broken by a knock at the door. Chance startled at the sound, his whole body tensing. Parker jumped up. “Pizza’s here,” he said cheerfully as he opened the door and grabbed the box.
Chance sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his chest. Something didn’t feel right. His heart was racing and no matter how much he tried to calm down, it only seemed to get worse. His breath felt shallow, the edges of the room starting to blur.
He watched Parker set the pizza on the desk, only now noticing the way Chance clutched his chest.
“I think I’m having a heart attack,” Chance whispered, panic tightening his throat.
Parker was beside him in a second, his hand warm on Chance’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re not having a heart attack. It’s just a panic reaction. I’ve had it happen before too,” he said gently.
“Take some deep breaths,” Parker said gently, guiding Chance through each inhale and exhale. Chance closed his eyes and followed along, trying to steady himself. At some point, he had grabbed Parker’s hand and was holding it tight. He hadn’t even noticed until he felt Parker give it a small squeeze in return.
When Chance opened his eyes again, his vision was steadier. The panic was still there, but not as sharp, not as loud in his chest. “Let’s get you something to eat, it’ll help,” Parker said softly. His hand was still on Chance’s back, rubbing slow circles.
Chance gave a nod and let go of his hand, though it took effort. He watched Parker stand and cross the room for the pizza, his heart fluttering again at the small separation. He took another breath, focusing on the sound of the box opening and the scent of food filling the room.
Once he had a few bites, things started to feel more manageable. The panic didn’t vanish completely, but it loosened its grip on him.
“Ready to start the movie again?” Parker asked as he laid back down on his stomach, settling into the same spot on Chance’s bed.
Chance nodded and joined him, resting his head against the pillow as the film continued. The story pulled him in again. Some moments held his breath in his chest, others stirred something that made him blink back tears. Just as he promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of Parker, he turned to see him already crying.
“Chihiro cares for Haku so much,” Parker said, sniffling as he wiped his eyes on Chance’s blanket.
Chance placed a hand on his back, smiling softly. “You really love this movie, huh?” he asked.
Parker turned to him and nodded, eyes glassy. “Yeah,” he said, voice a little shaky.
Chance smiled wider and gently pulled him closer. Parker settled in against him, cheeks flushed, letting himself stay tucked near as the movie played on.
By the end of the movie, Chance’s eyelids were growing heavy. “What? Her parents don’t remember anything?” he scoffed at the ending.
Parker shot him a look. “It’s her coming of age story, not theirs,” he said simply.
Chance smiled, too tired to argue. Parker closed the laptop with a soft click and let out a yawn. “I think it’s time for bed,” he said as he moved to stand from Chance’s bed.
Before he could get far, Chance reached out and grabbed his hand. A flicker of anxiety returned to his chest at the thought of being alone again.
“Wait… I don’t want to be alone,” he said, his voice quieter now, eyes not quite meeting Parker’s.
Parker looked at him for a moment before sitting back down. “If you want to cuddle that bad,” he teased, though his voice was light and kind, “fine. Let me grab my blanket at least.”
Chance let go of his hand, watching as Parker crossed the room and returned with a pillow and blanket tucked under his arm. He climbed into bed again, and Chance shifted against the wall to make room.
It was a tight fit, but he didn’t mind. It just felt good not to be alone.
Chance didn’t take long to fall asleep. His breathing slowed, his body relaxing against the warmth beside him. In the soft haze between waking and dreaming, his arm found its way around Parker’s waist. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he drifted off, the night lingering in his thoughts. His first time with Parker had been even better than he ever expected.
Chapter 5
Parker stayed awake long enough to hear the soft, steady rhythm of Chance’s snoring behind him. His mind was still turning, full of everything that had happened tonight. He had been playfully flirting for hours, but he wasn’t sure if Chance had picked up on any of it. He sighed quietly. Still, he was lying in Chance’s bed with Chance’s arm wrapped around his waist. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
He could feel Chance’s breath warm against the back of his neck, their bodies close as they shared the small bed. It was hard not to let his heart flutter every time he felt Chance’s chest rise and fall behind him. The closeness was comforting, grounding. He wished he could fall asleep like this every night. So why was he still wide awake?
Maybe it was everything running through his head. The night had shifted something between them, hadn’t it? They had gotten closer, making Parker’s D&D character together, playing board games, sharing laughs, and even working through that wave of panic. Parker felt something stir in his chest. A quiet tug of loneliness. Even with a Chance right here he still felt separate from him.
He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep. It shouldn’t have been this hard, not when he was wrapped up in the arms of the biggest crush he’d ever had.
Parker adjusted his position in the bed, seeking a more comfortable spot, when a soft groan from Chance caught his attention. He tensed, worried that he might have disturbed Chance's sleep, but the steady snoring resumed, much to his relief. It was then that Parker became aware of a firm presence against his back. He froze, his eyes wide in the darkness, questioning his senses. Could it be? No, surely not. He shifted slightly once more, and his suspicions were confirmed as the grip around his waist tightened, drawing him closer to Chance's unmistakable arousal.
Parker's face flushed, his mouth growing dry as he felt his own body respond to the contact. No, this couldn't be happening. He tried to ignore the sensation, but his attempts to cover his own arousal only made the situation more intense. He silently chastised himself, his mind racing with thoughts and fears. This was not the time or place for such desires, not with Chance lying right beside him.
Though edible's effects still held Parker in its sway, clouding his judgment and urging him to consider the unthinkable. Chance was asleep, oblivious to the world around him, and Parker couldn't help but wonder if indulging in a quick, silent release would be so terrible. He hesitated, the rational part of his brain fighting a losing battle, as he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers.
Fortunately, he was hidden beneath his own blanket, which would contain any mess that might ensue. He stifled a gasp, feeling Chance's erection pressed against his back, and began to stroke himself with agonizing slowness. The need for silence was paramount, lest he risk waking Chance and facing the potential embarrassment.
He muffled his own moans by burying his face in the blanket, his hand moving in a steady rhythm as he worked himself closer to the edge. His eyes fluttered shut, the reality of the situation washing over him - he was in Chance's arms, feeling the warmth of his breath and the firmness of his arousal.
His hips jerked gently, grinding his back against Chance, who let out a low, sleepy groan. Parker clenched his teeth, biting down on the blanket to stifle his own gasp. The sound Chance made had sent a jolt through him, his erection twitching in response.
He continued to stroke himself, his breath hitching as he struggled to maintain control. The situation was risky, but the thrill of it all only heightened his arousal, making it all the more difficult to resist.
Parker stifled a soft whimper into the blanket, his excitement building as he cautiously increased his pace. He was teetering on the edge, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as he tried to maintain control. Just a few more strokes was all it would take to send him spiraling over the edge.
His body tensed, a shiver running through him ase approached. He clenched his teeth, biting down on the blanket to muffle the moan that threatened to escape his lips. He felt the familiar surge of pleasure as his orgasm hit, his body shuddering against Chance's as he filled his boxers with the evidence.
He continued to stroke himself, drawing out the last high of his climax, before finally allowing his hand to slip from his boxers. He wiped his hand on the blanket, grimacing at the mess he'd made. He'd have to do laundry tomorrow, he reminded himself, his face flushing with embarrassment at the thought of Chance discovering what he had done.
He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would take him away from the swirl of thoughts and the weight of his embarrassment. Thankfully, it worked. Before long, he drifted off into a restless, uneasy sleep.
—
Morning light crept through the window, painting soft patterns across the room. Parker blinked awake, confused for a moment as he found himself face to face with Chance, who was still fast asleep. Peaceful. Unbothered.
Then it all came rushing back. His stomach twisted.
What the hell had he been thinking?
Carefully, he slipped out of Chance’s arms. Chance groaned softly at the loss of warmth but didn’t wake. Parker sat on the edge of the bed, frozen for a moment in quiet horror.
He couldn’t stay there. Not like this. Not after what had happened.
He grabbed his blanket and shoved it deep into the laundry hamper, cheeks burning as he registered the uncomfortable cling of his boxers. Without letting himself think too hard, he grabbed a towel and some clean clothes and made his way into the bathroom.
He turned the shower cold and stepped in without hesitation. He didn’t deserve anything else.
He scrubbed himself hard, as if he could wash the shame away with enough pressure. If Chance ever found out, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. The thought of that kind of rejection made his chest tighten.
By the time he stepped out of the shower, his skin was raw and the guilt hadn’t faded. He dried off in silence and changed into clean clothes for the day, still feeling heavy.
When he stepped back into the room, Chance was awake, half-sitting in bed and scrolling on his phone. He looked up with a sleepy smile.
“Morning,” Chance said through a yawn as he stretched and sat up.
Parker didn’t meet his eyes. He walked past and sat down on the edge of his own bed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Morning,” he replied quietly.
Chance shifted a little. “Last night was fun. We should do it again sometime,” he said, his voice light but careful. Then his cheeks flushed. “Though… we don’t have to share a bed next time if you don’t want to.” He looked down at his hands. “Sorry I kind of sprung that on you. I was just feeling a little anxious last night.”
Parker finally looked at him. That pink in Chance’s face, the way his voice dipped at the end—it made something flutter in his chest.
“No, it’s okay,” Parker said. “I get it. That kind of panic can be overwhelming. I’m just glad I could help.”
Chance seemed to relax at his words and Parker couldn’t help but smile at him, even with the shame coursing through his veins. Thankfully, it seemed that Chance was none the wiser to what Parker had done.
They sat in silence for a moment, the morning light filling the room. Chance turned his attention back to his phone, shoulders loosening, a soft hum escaping him as he scrolled. It was so normal, so easy between them again. That should have made Parker feel better, but it didn’t. Not really.
He stood up quietly, gathering his hamper he had tossed the blanket and clothes in earlier. He kept his eyes on the floor, not trusting himself to look at Chance again just yet.
“I’m gonna go do some laundry,” he mumbled, his voice low.
Chance gave a small nod, not questioning it. “Alright.”
And with that, Parker slipped out of the room, arms full of fabric and guilt, the door clicking softly shut behind him
Chapter 6
Weeks blurred together as midterms loomed closer. It had been over a month since the night Chance and Parker got high together. Something had shifted since then. They were closer now, more comfortable. As friends. And that word had been bothering Parker more than he liked to admit. Friends. Was that really all they’d ever be?
He shook the thought away. He didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Not with this stack of contract law notes breathing down his neck.
His desk was a chaotic mess of papers, sticky notes, flashcards, and half-dried highlighters. Parker scribbled another line onto a card when the door creaked open behind him. Chance walked in, his backpack hitting the floor beside his bed with a soft thud.
“Ready for D&D tonight?” Chance asked, his voice bright with excitement.
Parker looked up, blinking slowly like he’d just been pulled from underwater. His eyes were sunken and glassy, the kind of tired only energy drinks could hold together. “Oh, shit. I forgot. Sorry,” he muttered, turning back to his notes and taking a long sip from the half-empty can beside him. “I think I have to pass tonight-”
“This is the third week in a row you’ve canceled, dude,” Chance said immediately, frustration creeping into his voice.
Parker’s shoulders sagged. “I know. I’m sorry. Midterms are coming up and I need to keep my grades up if I want a shot at that internship,” he groaned.
“Parker, you’ve got to let yourself breathe.” Chance crossed the room and rested a hand on Parker’s back. “One night isn’t going to ruin your GPA.”
Parker shifted in his seat, unsure if he believed that. “Ugh, there’s just too much to memorize. And I’m usually good at memorizing! I’m amazing at matching games, you know?” he added, trying to soften his anxiety with a joke.
Chance let out a soft laugh, rubbing slow circles into Parker’s back. Parker leaned into it without thinking.
“I’m vetoing your study night. You have to play D&D tonight,” Chance said with mock sternness.
Parker slouched deeper into his chair and gave a resigned sigh. “Fiiiiine,” he said, looking up at Chance with quiet gratitude. Without him, Parker probably wouldn’t have stopped studying at all.
Grades had always been his priority. Since he was a kid, he had wanted to go into law. It wasn’t until college that he started to understand what that really meant. Now, even with all the hours he poured into studying, he felt like he was barely keeping his head above water.
Chance snapped his fingers in front of Parker’s face. “Hey. You’re zoning out again. No class talk tonight.”
“Okay, okay. What did I miss the past two weeks in D&D?” Parker asked, finally rising from his chair.
Chance started gathering his notes and dice. “I’ll catch you up on the way. Mac’s ordering Chinese.”
Parker grabbed his folder and dice bag and followed Chance out the door, the tension in his chest starting to ease for the first time in days.
Chance gave Parker the short version of what the party had been up to in his absence. The group had been sent to investigate a swamp, following rumors of a corrupted circle of druids. Whatever was happening out there was poisoning the land, and it was starting to affect the nearby village’s crops. To explain why Schmidley hadn’t joined them earlier, Chance had simply said he’d fallen ill and had been resting at the village inn.
By the time Chance finished catching him up, they had reached the house. He pushed the door open and heads turned their way.
“Parker! Chance!” their friends called out, voices warm with welcome.
Parker smiled as he looked around the table. It felt good to be back. Seeing everyone gathered again, laughing and chatting, lifted something heavy from his chest.
Chance didn’t waste any time. He set up behind his DM screen and opened his notes while the others got settled. The session kicked off with the party welcoming Schmidley back into the fold before venturing deeper into the swamp in search of the corrupted druid circle.
Jerry’s rogue took the lead, slipping ahead through the fog and pointing out traps buried under moss and murky water. Hector’s wizard followed close behind, casting detect magic to reveal the hidden path that led straight to the druid’s lair.
Mac’s warlock blasted open the entrance with a crackling eldritch blast while Dasha’s paladin charged in with righteous fury, bolstered by a song from Schmidley. Together, they tore through the crooked druids and recovered a relic that would bring life back to the village’s dying crops.
As the night wound down and the session came to a close, Chance leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “You guys crushed it,” he said, his eyes moving across the group. The table buzzed with excitement and tired grins.
Parker leaned back on his hands, sitting cross-legged on the floor. For the first time in days, the stress from his classes had quieted to a dull hum. It felt good to be here, surrounded by friends, laughing and sharing snacks as the session wound down.
His eyes drifted to Hector and Jerry, who sat close together on the couch. Their hands were lightly resting on one another, fingers intertwined in an easy, familiar way. Parker had known they were dating since their second D&D night. It had never made him feel anything before, so why did it tug at him now?
A tight, squirming feeling twisted in his chest. Jealousy. That was the word for it. He wanted something like that. Someone like that.
He blinked back to the moment when he heard his name.
“What about you, Parker? Did you have fun tonight?” Chance asked, his voice light.
Parker straightened up and nodded. “Yeah. You were awesome! It was super fun to slaughter all those druids,” he added with a laugh.
Chance grinned at that, and Parker felt his chest ease again
They wrapped up their session and, before long, Parker and Chance were walking home together again. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet between them was easy, until Parker finally broke it.
“Thank you, Chance... for dragging me out here with you,” he said with a soft chuckle, eyes fixed on the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to thank me every time we hang out,” Chance replied. “I like spending time with you.”
Parker’s heart fluttered at the words. “I like spending time with you too,” he said quietly. “I just wish I had more time away from studying. It feels like I’m always behind.”
There was another pause, this one a little heavier. Then Chance spoke again.
“Have you thought about maybe changing your major?”
Parker stopped walking. His face tensed as his thoughts spun. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Instead, he let out a long breath and began walking again, slower this time.
“It’s crossed my mind,” he admitted. “But I’ve already put so much into law. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid.”
Chance looked over at him. “You still have options,” he said gently. “It’s not too late.”
Parker shook his head. “It’s not that easy for me... I had it all planned out. Or I thought I did. But it’s so much harder than I expected.” He swallowed hard. “I thought law would make sense to me, like the rules of board games always did. But it doesn’t. Half of it feels impossible to understand, and the other half is just a mess.”
“So none of it makes sense?” Chance gave a small laugh, just enough to lighten the mood. It made Parker feel a little better.
“I guess not,” Parker sighed.
They reached the dorm and went inside. Parker went straight to his bed and sat at the edge, staring at the floor. The quiet stretched until he finally spoke again.
“I just don’t want to feel like a failure.”
The words hung in the room. It was the truth, one he hadn’t said out loud until now.
Chance sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Parker, you’re not a failure just because you’re thinking about changing majors.”
Parker leaned into him, resting his head on Chance’s shoulder.
“Why don’t you spend some time looking at your options?” Chance said gently. “This school has a ton of different degrees. You could even do what Jerry does and just try out classes until something sticks.”
He rubbed Parker’s shoulder, pulling him in close.
As Parker rested his head on Chance’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his arm around him, a familiar ache settled in his chest. He loved that Chance was always there for him; steady, kind, supportive. But it hurt too. It hurt because that was all they were. Just friends.
He turned his face slightly, pressing into Chance’s shoulder to hide the sting behind his eyes. The tears didn’t fall, but they were close.
Everything felt tangled. School was overwhelming, but so was this. His feelings for Chance were growing, and he didn’t know what to do with them. He couldn’t risk losing what they already had, not for something uncertain. Not for a maybe.
Chance seemed to pick up on Parker’s emotions as he wrapped his other arm around him, pulling him into a full hug against his warm, sturdy body. That was all it took. The tears finally slipped free, trailing down Parker’s cheeks as he pressed his face into Chance’s chest.
Chance rubbed slow, comforting circles into his back.
“Just take a break tomorrow,” he whispered. “Talk to your advisor and see what you can figure out.”
He was still under the impression that this was all about Parker’s major, and Parker let him believe it as he cried silently into his chest.
Chapter 7
After his breakdown in front of Chance, Parker finally agreed to meet with his advisor again. Florence greeted him with her usual warm smile and set a cup of tea on the table before he even sat down.
“I’m glad you came in,” she said kindly. “You’ve had a rough semester, and I think it might help to step back and explore some different options.”
Parker gave a hesitant nod. “You mean switch majors?”
“Not yet,” Florence said. “I think it would help to shadow a few classes first. Sit in, observe, see what feels right. You don’t have to commit to anything. Just give yourself space to figure out what you actually enjoy. Try art, business, game design—see what sparks something.”
It sounded unusual, but Parker also felt a strange sense of relief. “Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll try.”
And he did. For a week straight, Parker made the rounds. He slipped into art studios, sat in the back of business lectures, and even joined a game design group that just happened to include Chance. It was awkward at first, but as the days went on, he found himself looking forward to it—the freedom, the creativity, the lack of pressure to already know everything.
By the weekend, Parker felt lighter than he had in months. He still didn’t have any solid answers, but the question of his future no longer felt like a weight crushing his chest. There was something freeing about giving himself permission to explore, to simply exist without having it all figured out.
That Saturday, during game night, the usual laughter and shuffling of dice filled the room. When most of the group stepped out to grab snacks or refill drinks, Parker stayed behind, restacking cards absentmindedly. It wasn’t until the room grew unusually quiet that he noticed Hector and Jerry were still there, lingering on the couch with unreadable expressions.
Jerry leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Parker,” he said, voice low but clear, “why aren’t you telling Chance how you feel?”
Parker froze. The deck of cards slipped in his hands, a few fluttering onto the rug. His heart stuttered in his chest. “W-what are you talking about?” he asked, blinking like he’d just been slapped.
Jerry tilted his head, unimpressed. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Parker’s face burned hot. He looked down, trying to gather the scattered cards, hoping that pretending he hadn’t heard would make them drop it.
Hector gave Jerry a slight look before softening his tone. “Look, we’re not trying to mess with you,” he said. “We’ve just… noticed. The way you look at him. How you act when he’s around. You’re kind of glowing and panicking at the same time.”
Parker gave a weak laugh, but it didn’t sound like a real one. “It’s not like that,” he murmured.
“It is,” Hector said gently. “And that’s okay.”
There was a long pause. Parker swallowed hard, his eyes on the corner of the coffee table.
“I don’t want to ruin anything,” he said finally. “Chance is my best friend. I’d rather keep pretending than risk losing him.”
“You’re not pretending, though,” Jerry pointed out, quieter this time. “Not really. You’re just hurting quietly and hoping no one notices.”
Hector nodded. “We did. And we care. That’s all this is. We’re not trying to push you; we just don’t want to see you keep swallowing this down like it doesn’t matter.”
Parker didn’t answer right away. His fingers fidgeted with the corner of one of the cards, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger, as if the answer might be hiding in the texture. His voice, when it finally came, was quiet and hoarse.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
Hector didn’t hesitate. “Then he’ll still be your friend.”
Parker looked up at him, unsure, but Hector held his gaze.
“You’re not as easy to lose as you think,” Hector said softly.
The words hung in the air, steady and sincere. And they stuck with Parker for the rest of the night, echoing in his mind through every laugh, every game move, every moment he caught himself glancing at Chance. They followed him home, settled in his chest, and stayed with him long after he’d gone to bed.
By the time his next meeting with his advisor came around, the weight on his shoulders had shifted. It wasn’t gone, not completely, but it didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
Florence welcomed him with her usual warm smile and a mug of tea waiting beside her notes. Her presence was grounding in a way Parker hadn’t realized he needed.
“So,” she said as he sat down, folding her hands on the desk. “How did shadowing go, Parker?”
He didn’t even need to think about it. “I enjoyed it,” he said, voice clearer now. “A lot more than I enjoy law.”
She tilted her head with interest. “Then have you given any thought to changing your major?”
Parker nodded slowly, a small smile growing on his face.
—
Chance was caught off guard when the door to their dorm flew open, slamming against the wall with a thud. He jumped, eyes darting away from the code he had been typing into his laptop. Before he could even ask what was going on, Parker burst into the room with a grin so wide it looked like it might split his face.
“Chance, I’ve officially done it! I have a new major and new classes!” Parker beamed, waving a crinkled sheet of paper in the air like it was a trophy.
Chance blinked in surprise, then slowly smiled as the excitement radiating off Parker hit him full force. It had been weeks since he had seen that kind of spark in him. Parker looked alive again.
“No way,” Chance said, standing up from his chair. “That’s awesome. What did you end up picking?”
“Well, I couldn’t really decide on just one thing,” Parker said, still catching his breath. He crossed the room quickly, handing the paper to Chance with a proud little puff of his chest. “So my advisor and I made something custom. I’m officially an Analog Game Development and Marketing major.”
Chance squinted at the paper, scanning over the list of classes. Game design, art fundamentals, digital marketing, small business development. A few of them looked familiar from his own schedule.
“So… you make and sell board games now?” Chance asked, eyebrows raised.
“Pretty much,” Parker said, still glowing. “Design, marketing, production, the whole thing. And I get to take a few classes with you now, so that’s a bonus.”
Chance looked up at him, grinning. “We do share a couple, don’t we.”
Parker nodded, looking proud in a way Chance hadn’t seen from him in a long time. Something about it made Chance’s chest tighten, in a good way.
“I’m proud of you,” Chance said sincerely, setting the paper aside and stepping forward to pull Parker into a hug.
He felt Parker relax into the touch almost immediately, arms wrapping around him in return. It wasn’t a casual hug either, not the kind people exchanged just to be polite. It lingered. It settled. Chance felt how warm Parker was, how his breath slowed just a little. And something clicked in his mind. Parker didn’t act this way with anyone else. He wasn’t this open, this vulnerable, this soft. Not unless it was with him.
The thought caught Chance off guard. Was it possible? Was there something more here than just friendship?
His cheeks flushed at the idea, and he found himself pulling away before his brain could spiral too far. But when he looked at Parker again, his breath caught.
Parker’s eyes shimmered. He was trying to blink it away, trying to smile, but Chance saw the tear just starting to form.
“Parker,” he said gently, “what’s wrong?”
“I just haven’t heard those words in a long time,” Parker replied. His voice was small, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
Chance’s heart tugged at the confession. He smiled softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of Parker’s messy hair behind his ear. “Then I’ll make sure you hear them as much as you need.”
The gesture made Parker freeze for a second. His face turned a deep red, and Chance felt heat rise to his own cheeks too. He hadn’t meant for it to feel so personal, but brushing Parker’s hair back like that—it was intimate. More than he expected. The moment sat between them like something fragile, something quietly asking to be acknowledged.
Chance’s heart thudded, too loud in the quiet. His hand dropped back to his side quickly, suddenly self-conscious.
They both opened their mouths to speak.
“Sorry,” Chance said, voice tight with embarrassment.
“Chance, I—”
They stopped, their voices colliding awkwardly. A nervous laugh escaped them both, cracking the tension for a brief second. But it was clear that something had almost been said. Something real.
Parker hesitated. He had that look again, like he was weighing whether to leap or retreat. And just like that, he stepped back emotionally, words softened and deflected.
“Chance… I’m glad you’re always there for me.”
Chance gave a small nod. It was honest. It was heartfelt. But it wasn’t what Parker had meant to say, not really. He could feel it. There had been something more behind his eyes, something still waiting.
And now Chance found himself wondering what, exactly, that something was.
Chapter 8
A few weeks later, Parker was settling into his new classes. It had been a bit difficult to catch up after missing half a semester’s worth of work, but it still wasn’t as tedious as law. The classes he shared with Chance were easier to manage. Chance helped him get up to speed and walked him through the basics he had missed.
But every time he was around Chance, Parker kept thinking about how he had almost said something. For a split second, he had the courage. After the way Chance had tucked his hair behind his ear so gently, the way they had looked into each other’s eyes, it had felt like the right moment.
Then Chance had accidentally spoken over him, and the moment was gone. The nerve, the spark, whatever confidence he had managed to gather had slipped. And just like that, he was back in the same place again, stuck in a maze of feelings with no clear way forward. So he stuck to his usual path, circling the truth without ever touching it.
Their group project in game design had quickly become one of Parker’s favorite parts of the week, at least, in theory. Getting to work alongside Chance, watching him light up as he talked about mechanics and systems, made the whole assignment feel less like school and more like fun.
They were walking to the library together, the usual spot where their group met to work on the project. Chance chatted beside him, going on about some new design idea he’d had, hands gesturing as he tried to explain a mechanic he thought would solve a balance issue. Parker nodded along, half-listening, half-wishing this was the whole group work experience, just the two of them.
But the study group itself wasn’t always easy to enjoy. Penelope, their project teammate, was kind and undeniably talented, but her constant attention toward Chance made Parker’s stomach twist. She was always quick with a compliment or an easy laugh, leaning just a little too close or brushing his arm when she talked. None of it was overtly wrong. In fact, it would have been charming if it wasn’t driving Parker quietly up the wall.
She wasn’t doing anything to hurt anyone, and Parker knew that. She was being friendly, maybe a little flirty, and if he didn’t have feelings for Chance, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed. But he did notice. Every soft laugh, every lingering glance, every “You’re so smart, Chance” pulled at him like a loose thread.
Chance, as usual, seemed oblivious. He gave polite smiles and stayed focused on the project, never acting like he noticed the attention at all. That part stung the most. If he couldn’t see Penelope’s flirting, then he definitely hadn’t seen Parker’s feelings either. And maybe that was for the best.
Still, Parker couldn’t help feeling a bit sour about it. Not toward her, not really. Just toward the situation. Because no matter how much he tried to focus on the work, there was always that nagging reminder: he wasn’t the only one who wanted Chance’s attention, and he might not be the one who got it.
They reached the meeting room in the library. Penelope was already there, typing away on her laptop as they entered. She looked up and greeted them with a warm smile.
“Hey Chance, Parker.”
Chance smiled back and made his way to the seat beside her. “Hey, Pen. Ready to get to work?”
Parker gave a nod and took the seat across from Chance, setting his notebook on the table. He started flipping through a few of their project notes, trying to keep his eyes on the page and not on the two of them.
“Definitely,” Penelope said. “I was just looking at the UI mock-ups you sent last night. They’re really good.”
Chance gave a little sheepish laugh as he pulled out his laptop. “Oh, thanks. I kind of threw those together at midnight. Not sure how balanced everything is yet.”
“No, seriously,” she said, turning her screen toward him. “This part here? Where the inventory opens like a folding menu? That’s smart.”
Chance leaned a bit closer to get a look, nodding. “Yeah, I thought that might help reduce clutter.”
Before Parker could offer any feedback of his own, Penelope scooted her chair in just a bit closer to Chance’s. She tilted her head, pretending to squint at his screen, then gently rested her head on his shoulder as she pointed at something on his laptop.
“Wait, is that the health bar you were talking about?” she asked, her voice light and playful.
Chance stiffened for a half second, just barely, then relaxed and gave a short laugh. “Yeah, right there. I still need to adjust the size a little.”
Across the table, Parker’s stomach twisted. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even sigh, but he felt the heat rising behind his ears as he looked back down at his notes. The paper in front of him blurred slightly. He knew she wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just being friendly. Maybe flirty. Maybe interested. But it still made his chest feel tight.
“She’s allowed to like him,” Parker told himself silently. “She’s allowed to be nice. He’s allowed to like her too.”
He tapped the edge of his pen against the table and forced himself to speak up. “Actually, I was thinking the color of that bar might need to be adjusted. It kind of gets lost against the background on level three.”
Chance perked up. “Oh, good catch. You’re right.”
Penelope sat up again, lifting her head from his shoulder, but she stayed close. “You guys are such a good team,” she said with a little smile. “Makes me wish I’d known you both sooner.”
Parker forced a polite smile in return. “Yeah,” he said, though it came out more flatly than he intended.
Chance didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. He was already leaning into his laptop, adjusting the color values on the screen with the kind of focus Parker had seen a hundred times. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, lips pressed together as he clicked and dragged. It was the same look he always wore when he was deep in thought, and Parker found himself watching, just for a second too long. There was something almost endearing about how serious he got. The way his nose scrunched a little. The way he bit the inside of his cheek when he concentrated.
Then Penelope giggled, high and sweet.
“Chance, you’re so adorable when you’re concentrating.”
Her voice broke through the quiet. Parker blinked, jarred by the sudden shift in tone. He looked up in time to see her lean in, her fingers settling gently on Chance’s forearm.
The air in the room changed.
Chance glanced over at her, eyes widening just slightly. A flush rose to his cheeks as he smiled, uncertain but not dismissive. There was something different in the way he looked at her now. Not romantic, maybe not even intentional, but he had heard her. Really heard her. And that alone made Parker’s stomach drop.
“Ah, t-thanks?” Chance replied awkwardly, his voice an octave higher than usual.
Penelope smiled, her hand still resting on his arm, and she started to say something else. Parker didn’t wait to hear it.
He stood up too quickly. His chair scraped loudly against the floor, making both of them flinch. His hands were pressed flat to the table, knuckles white, as if grounding himself. His eyes never left the wood grain. If he looked up, he wasn’t sure what would happen.
“I… I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, voice tight.
He didn’t wait for a response. He walked out fast, pushing the door open harder than necessary and stepping into the hallway with a breath that came out more like a gasp.
Parker never looked up from the ground. His steps felt heavy as he moved through the hallway, but his mind was anything but still. Thoughts spiraled, clashing and looping until he couldn’t tell one from the next. He shouldn’t have left them alone. That was the first thing his brain latched onto. What if she took the chance to ask him out while he was gone? What if Chance said yes?
The idea lodged in his chest like a splinter.
Somehow, without fully realizing it, his feet had carried him to the bathroom. He pushed through the door and stepped into the tile and fluorescent light. The space was empty, silent except for the soft hum of overhead lights. He walked to the far stall, locked the door behind him, and just stood there for a moment, staring at the faded blue walls.
His hands trembled at his sides.
He raised them, palms up, fingers twitching, and watched them shake. He couldn’t tell what was setting him off. Was it fear? Was it anger? He couldn’t tell anymore. The feelings had bled into each other, turning into something shapeless and overwhelming.
Then came the tears.
They slipped down his cheeks quietly at first, until the weight behind them grew too much. He slid down to the floor, knees hitting the cold tile with a soft thud. He pressed his shaking hands to his face, trying to muffle the sobs as they broke free from his chest. The pressure he had been holding back all week, maybe all semester, cracked open all at once.
He felt pathetic.
Crying alone in the library bathroom over his best friend. Over a moment that hadn’t even really meant anything. Penelope hadn’t done anything wrong. Chance hadn’t either. And still, here he was, doubled over in a bathroom stall like the world was ending.
He wasn’t even sure why he was crying. Jealousy, maybe. Or heartbreak. Or something messier, something he didn’t have a name for.
Chance wasn’t his.
Maybe he never would be.
—
Chance blinked in confusion as Parker stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. There was no warning, no explanation beyond a mumbled excuse about the bathroom. Before either of them could say a word, he was already gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a strange stillness in the room.
Chance stared after him, brows furrowed. Something was wrong. That much was obvious. Parker hadn’t even looked at them. His posture had been stiff, his voice too rushed.
“What was that about?” Penelope asked, her tone quieter now. She didn’t sound flirty anymore, just genuinely concerned.
Chance shook his head, still watching the door. “I don’t know,” he murmured. He tried to piece it together, but nothing obvious came to mind. Parker had seemed fine just a few minutes ago. Tired maybe, distracted; but nothing like this.
He looked back at the table, at the scattered notes and open laptops. It didn’t feel right to just keep working.
Penelope gave his arm a small nudge. “Hey,” she said, giving him a soft smile. “Go check on him. I’ve got this.”
Chance hesitated for only a second before nodding. He pushed back from the table and headed toward the hallway. His pace picked up the closer he got to the bathrooms, a quiet thread of worry pulling tighter with each step. He didn’t know what had set Parker off, but something had. And he needed to know if he was okay.
As he pushed open the door to the men's room, Chance was met with the faint sound of crying echoing off the tiled walls. It was soft and shaky, but unmistakable. His chest tightened. Parker was crying.
He moved quickly toward the sound, stopping in front of the farthest stall. The door was shut, locked, but he could hear Parker clearly now. Quiet sobs, uneven breaths. Chance gently knocked on the door.
"Parker?"
“Go away,” Parker’s voice came through, muffled by emotion. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Chance rested his palm on the cool metal, a dull ache settling in his chest. Parker telling him to leave felt wrong. They had always been there for each other. Why not now?
"I just want to make sure you're okay," Chance said, his voice low, sincere.
“I am!” Parker shouted, though the break in his voice gave him away. “Now leave.”
Chance stood there, uncertain for a moment. He could listen, could walk away and give Parker space. But that didn’t sit right. Not when Parker was hurting like this.
Without thinking twice, Chance crouched down and dropped to the floor. He ignored the grime, slid himself under the door, and pulled himself into the stall.
Parker was curled up on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees, tear-streaked and trembling. He looked up in alarm, eyes wide.
“Chance, what are you—”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Chance said softly. “Not like this.”
He sat beside him in the cramped space, their shoulders barely apart. He didn’t try to speak again right away. He just sat there, offering quiet company in the silence Parker couldn’t fill.
He felt Parker finally rest his head against his shoulder, a quiet, reluctant acceptance of his presence. Chance responded by wrapping an arm around him, holding him gently. He didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch. Parker would speak when he was ready.
Eventually, the stillness broke.
“Chance…” Parker’s voice was soft, the weight of his earlier tears still evident in his expression, even if they had stopped falling.
Chance turned slightly to look at him. He gave Parker’s shoulder a small squeeze, keeping him close. Right now, Parker needed someone in his corner, and Chance wanted to be that person.
“Why… why are you so oblivious?” Parker asked suddenly, his eyes fixed on the wall instead of meeting Chance’s gaze.
Chance blinked, unsure what to make of the question. “What do you mean?”
“Penelope,” Parker said, rubbing his eyes. “She’s been flirting with you for ages.”
“She has?” Chance looked genuinely puzzled.
Parker let out a tired breath. “Every time she’s around you. Compliments, touching your arm, giggling at everything you say… you really didn’t notice?”
Chance paused, thinking it over. “I thought she was just being nice.”
Parker gave a small, humorless laugh. “Of course you did.”
“Is that what this is about? Penelope?” Chance asked, his voice quiet but uncertain. His thoughts felt scrambled, like he was trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces. “Do… do you like her?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, something twisted hard in his stomach. He did not understand why the idea hurt so much. Parker could like whoever he wanted. He was allowed to. But still, it stung. The thought settled in his chest like a weight, like salt poured over something already raw.
Parker’s head snapped up.
“No!” he shouted, loud and sharp enough to echo against the tile walls. He shoved Chance back, not hard but enough to force some distance between them. Now they were facing each other, breath uneven and expressions tangled in confusion and pain.
Chance blinked in shock. Parker’s face was flushed, his eyes glassy and red. His lip trembled.
“Chance, it’s you!” he cried. “I like you! I’ve liked you since the first time we met!”
His voice cracked as the confession burst out of him, a truth that had been boiling beneath the surface for far too long. The tears that had dried were suddenly back, streaking down his face as he looked at Chance like the words alone had shattered whatever wall he had left.
“I tried to bury it. I told myself it would go away, but it didn’t. It just got worse every time you smiled at me, every time you sat next to me, every time you cared.”
Parker’s shoulders shook. His hands clenched into fists at his sides like he was trying to hold the rest of himself together.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” Parker whispered. “Watching you sit there with her fawning over you, watching you see her and not me… I just can’t do it anymore.”
His voice cracked under the weight of it. His eyes searched Chance’s face, desperate and exhausted. It was all out now, raw and real, and there was no taking it back.
Chance felt something lodge in his throat. The words he wanted to say got stuck, tangled somewhere between shock and realization. He thought about all the time they had spent together—game nights that stretched into the early hours, quiet conversations in the dark, the way Parker always laughed just a little louder at his jokes, even the time they got high and fell asleep tangled up in each other. He had missed it. All of it.
God, he felt like such an idiot.
How could he have been so blind?
He remembered the moment he told Parker he was proud. The way Parker had looked at him like those words had meant everything. The way they hugged. The way neither of them wanted to let go.
Chance blinked back tears. He could see it now, all of it, and it hurt to realize how long Parker had been carrying this alone.
“Parker…” Chance said softly. He reached out and rested his hand on Parker’s shoulder, trying to ground them both.
Parker flinched.
His face twisted in panic, like the touch alone had confirmed the worst. That he had said too much. That he had broken something between them. That he would be left standing there, alone in his feelings.
Chance’s chest ached at the sight. His mind raced with everything he wanted to say, but nothing felt strong enough. No apology or reassurance seemed big enough to hold the moment.
So he didn’t speak.
He just moved.
Chance leaned forward, both hands finding Parker’s shoulders as he looked him straight in the eyes. His heart was pounding, but his expression was steady, warm, sure.
Then he leaned in and kissed him.
It was not rushed or perfect. It was shaky with emotion and heavy with everything they had not said. But it was real. Parker froze for a heartbeat, then melted into it, letting his hands clutch the fabric of Chance’s shirt like he never wanted to let go.
Chance could feel his chest pounding with emotion. Excitement, fear, and happiness swirled together in a way that left him breathless. He only pulled away from the kiss when he had no choice but to breathe.
They parted slowly, their foreheads nearly touching, both of them panting softly. Their eyes met and held, locked in a quiet moment that felt more intimate than anything either had said aloud.
Chance reached up and gently cupped Parker’s cheek, his thumb brushing along the soft skin there.
“I’ve been an idiot,” Chance said, his voice quiet and full of regret. “I don’t know how I missed this. I don’t know how I’ve been so blind.”
He paused, eyes searching Parker’s face. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”
Parker didn’t speak. He only looked back at him with wide, tear-bright eyes, so full of affection that it made Chance’s heart ache in the best way.
Parker gave a shaky smile, his tears still slipping down his cheeks. Chance reached up and gently brushed them away.
“You have been an idiot,” Parker whispered with a soft, breathless chuckle.
Then he pulled Chance into a hug, arms wrapping around him with all the tenderness he had been holding back for so long. Chance hugged him back just as tightly, burying his face into Parker’s shoulder. He held him like he never wanted to let go, because he didn’t.
Chapter 9
It took a little while before either of them found the words to speak again.
“What a place for a first kiss,” Parker said, his voice still hoarse but light with laughter. He looked around the cramped stall with a wrinkled nose. “You really crawled under a bathroom stall just to get to me.”
Chance laughed, arms still loosely around him. “I care about you. I’d do a lot more than that,” he said, quiet but sincere.
Parker tilted his head back to meet his gaze, smiling through the faint dampness still clinging to his eyes. “I don’t doubt it,” he said softly. Then he glanced around the stall again and made a face. “But we really should get out of here. This place is disgusting.”
Chance chuckled and stood, brushing off his jeans before offering Parker a hand. He helped him up gently, their fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary before letting go.
When they returned to the study room, Penelope was still typing away at her laptop, earbuds out now as they stepped back inside. She looked up, her smile faltering slightly when she noticed Parker’s red eyes and flushed face.
“Oh, Parker… are you alright?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Parker gave her a small, tired smile. “Yeah. I’m okay now.”
Chance glanced at him, then turned to Penelope. “I think we’re going to call it a night, if that’s alright.”
Penelope nodded quickly. “Of course. Whatever you need. I’ll see you guys next time.”
Parker gathered his things quietly, still feeling a little raw but lighter, like the worst of the storm had passed. As he and Chance left the study room side by side, he let their hands brush together. Neither of them pulled away.
When they finally reached their dorm, the door clicked softly shut behind them. The silence inside felt heavier than it should have. Neither of them spoke at first. Parker dropped his bag at the foot of his bed and sat down slowly, still brushing the last dry streaks of tears from his cheeks. Chance lingered by his own bed, unsure if he should sit, stand, or do anything at all.
For a long moment, it was quiet. Then, softly, Chance broke it.
“What does this mean for us?” he asked, voice low and unsure. He moved toward Parker and sat beside him on the edge of the bed, close but not too close.
Parker stared down at the floor. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I’ve been wanting this for so long, but now that it’s real, I just feel… scared?” His voice wavered a little. He didn’t sound confident in the word. Maybe it wasn’t fear. Maybe it was everything at once.
Chance nodded slowly. “I get it. But I want you to know I’m here now, really here. I’m not going to hurt you. Not anymore.” He reached over and gently took Parker’s hand.
Parker squeezed it, grounding himself in the touch. Then he smiled.
“You know,” he said, a little brighter, “I only had the courage to finally say something because Hector and Jerry figured it out.”
Chance blinked. “What?” His eyes widened. “Who else knew you liked me before I did?”
Parker laughed, leaning into him. His head found its place on Chance’s shoulder as he giggled. “I’m pretty sure Jerry told Mac and Dasha. So… probably them too.”
Chance groaned. “So everyone knew except me?”
“Pretty much,” Parker said through his laughter.
Chance let out a quiet sigh and leaned back a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “I feel like a complete idiot.”
“You kind of were,” Parker said, nudging him with a grin as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “But you figured it out eventually.”
Chance let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Only because you had to tell me. But now that I’m thinking about it, it all feels so obvious. I just didn’t see it.”
Parker looked up at him, his voice gentler now. “I’m just glad you see it now. Because that means you can finally do something about it.”
He shifted closer, his eyes flicking down to Chance’s lips. Chance didn’t move, still staring at him like he wasn’t sure what to do next. Parker let out a soft, exasperated sigh.
“Oh my god,” he muttered. “Just kiss me again, you big dummy.”
Before Chance could reply, Parker grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him in. The kiss that followed was slower this time, more careful. Their lips met softly, hesitant but sure, like they were both trying to say all the things they didn’t have words for yet.
—
The next game night felt a bit more tense than usual, a quiet buzz of nerves between every step. Parker and Chance walked side by side, taking the familiar route to Hector and Jerry’s place. As they rounded the last corner, Chance slipped his fingers into Parker’s, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“So… are we telling them?” he asked, keeping his voice low. They had only been dating for a few days, and he wasn’t sure how open Parker wanted to be yet.
Parker gave his hand a light squeeze back, a mischievous smile creeping onto his lips. “Why don’t we make it a bit of a game?”
Chance tilted his head, curious.
“Let’s see how long it takes them to figure it out on their own,” Parker said, eyes gleaming with playful challenge.
Chance let out a quiet laugh, his nose crinkling as he smiled. “You’re evil.”
“Just a little,” Parker grinned, tugging him toward the door, letting go of his hand as to not give away their little secret immediately.
Parker pushed the door open without knocking. As usual, they were the last to arrive. The other four were already spread out around the coffee table, mid-conversation, laughter echoing from the TV speakers. Greetings were exchanged as Parker made his way to the couch, sliding into the spot next to Chance. He sat close, just enough for their shoulders to touch.
Tonight was a Jackbox night, and everyone was already pulling out their phones to join the lobby. Parker leaned against Chance just slightly, casual but deliberate. He caught Hector’s glance out of the corner of his eye. If anyone figured it out first, it would be him. Hector had always been a little too good at reading people. Parker doubted Jerry even knew he had liked Chance in the first place, not until Hector spelled it out for him. Jerry was many things, but observant wasn’t one of them. Mac and Dasha, though—he wasn’t sure. They were sharp. If anyone picked up on the little touches, the glances, the way Parker was quietly glowing, it would be them.
Still, Parker kept his expression even as he queued into the game, though his heart was beating a little faster. The living room lights were dimmed, the TV casting flickering colors across everyone’s faces as the first round of Quiplash began. The group tossed jokes back and forth, the prompts harmless at first. It was easygoing, comfortable.
Until a particular prompt popped up on Parker’s phone.
His eyes lit up the second he read it: “What’s the worst thing to say after a first kiss?”
He smirked, typed his answer without hesitation, and hit send.
When the responses finally appeared on screen, the room burst into laughter.
The first one read: “Well that was disappointing.”
It earned a few chuckles and an “Ouch, brutal,” from Mac.
Then the second answer appeared: “I crawled under a bathroom stall for this?”
Parker couldn’t hold back a laugh, the kind that slipped out sharp and unfiltered. He heard the others laugh too, some louder than others. Jerry practically wheezed.
But when Parker glanced to his side, he found Chance with his hand half covering his mouth, face turning a deep shade of red. His laugh was softer, more nervous, like he knew exactly what the joke meant and had no idea how to react to it in front of everyone.
Parker grinned and nudged his knee against Chance, subtle and smug.
Chance gave him a sideways glance, eyes wide, and mouthed, “Seriously?”
Parker only smiled wider and turned his attention back to the game like nothing had happened. Ignoring the side eye that he got from Dasha who had put the other answer that lost the vote.
They continued and soon found themselves playing Monster seeking monster immediately when the game started Parker began to message Chance on the game.
“I bet you’re fun in a study group.” He sent teasingly, earning a grin from Chance who began typing his response
“You are too when you’re not crying in the bathroom.” He teased back
Parker grinned at his screen and typed quickly.
“Idiot <3”
He locked in his choice and clicked on Chance’s name to date for the round. Before the timer ran out, another message popped up, this one from Hector.
“You’re sitting pretty close to Chance. ;)”
Parker’s face flushed. He was practically pressed against Chance on the couch, their thighs touching. He shot a glance across the room to see Hector raising an eyebrow at him, clearly suspicious.
As the game revealed who matched up, Parker couldn’t hold back his smile. His name and Chance’s appeared together on screen, highlighted by dramatic monster animations. A few people whooped and laughed, but Parker caught Hector’s expression go from playful to wide-eyed.
Another round began, and almost immediately Parker got a new message from Hector.
“I’m on to you two.”
Parker snorted and bumped his knee against Chance’s.
“Hector knows,” he messaged him.
“Damn. I was hoping we could keep the mystery going for a bit,” Chance replied.
Parker smirked, fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Not the worst thing. At least now I can hold your hand without being subtle.”
Chance’s response popped up a second later.
“You’re never subtle. But I like that about you.”
Parker bit back a smile and leaned just a little closer.
“Still too subtle for you to notice,” Parker messaged with a grin as he sent it off to Chance.
Chance replied quickly. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
Before Parker could type a response, the round ended and their avatars popped back up on screen, once again paired together. He smiled softly, watching the little cartoon versions of them bounce across the screen hand in hand.
They played through the rest of the game, round after round, always choosing each other. Even as the others tried to rack up points by messaging them, Parker and Chance stuck to their quiet little pattern, content to flirt just under the surface.
When the final reveal came, Parker’s monster identity flashed on screen. He was the Monster Hunter. His character pointed dramatically at Chance’s.
Chance let out a loud, theatrical gasp. “All this time it was a lie?”
Parker shrugged with a playful smirk. “It’s not my fault you find me irresistible.”
The group chuckled, but there were definitely a few longer looks now. Hector raised an eyebrow, and Dasha leaned forward a bit, clearly starting to put things together.
Parker didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. Not when the game began revealing all the messages from the final round.
One by one, their flirty exchange lit up the screen:
“Bet you kiss as well as you code.”
“Only one way to find out.”
“You planning to make a move, or do I have to?”
“Depends, you free after this game?”
The silence in the room was deafening. Eyes that had been glued to the TV slowly shifted to the pair sitting side by side on the couch.
Chance looked like he had just short-circuited. His face was a bright, blooming red, clearly realizing a second too late that the game would display everything.
Parker laughed under his breath and gently reached over to take Chance’s hand in his.
“Well,” he said, voice light, “that was subtle, right?”
Mac groaned and leaned back against the couch. “Great. Now Dasha and I owe Hector and Jerry twenty bucks.” They sighed and reached into their bag, pulling out a folded bill.
“You guys were taking bets?” Chance finally broke his stunned silence, staring at them in disbelief.
Dasha nodded without a hint of shame. “Mac and I thought it would take you until next semester to figure it out.” She fished another crumpled bill from her pocket and flicked it across the table. It missed its mark and smacked Jerry in the forehead, making him flinch.
Parker stared at Hector. “Wait… did you only confront me to win your bet?”
Hector gave a half-shrug and an unapologetic smile. “You needed a push. And technically, we never said we couldn’t help you two along.”
Mac threw their hands up. “What? That’s definitely against the rules, Hector!”
Hector just shrugged again. “Should have been more specific.”
Parker let out a small huff, clearly a little annoyed that what felt like a heartfelt moment had been tied to a bet. He glanced at Jerry, who offered a reassuring smile.
“Hey, Parker, we still meant everything we said,” Jerry told him. “All of us were rooting for you two.”
Parker leaned into Chance’s side, feeling the warmth of his arm wrap around his shoulders. He smiled faintly at the gesture.
“I guess it did help,” he admitted, glancing up at Chance, who was still looking at him with that soft, dreamy look in his eyes.
Parker didn’t care about the other’s eyes on him anymore. Not Mac’s knowing smirk, not Hector’s proud little nod, not even Dasha’s not-so-subtle attempt to hide her grin behind her hand. He leaned in without hesitation and pressed a soft kiss to Chance’s lips. It wasn’t long or dramatic, just a gentle peck. But it was enough to make Chance’s already flushed face turn an even deeper shade of red as he squeezed Parker’s hand tighter.
The room erupted into teasing and laughter, but none of it felt cruel. Just the kind of ribbing that came with genuine friendship. They teased Chance for taking so long to figure it out. Parker for being such a terrible flirt. Someone joked about writing their love story into their next D&D campaign. It all blended together into something warm and comforting, the way good friendships always did.
Eventually, the night wound down. Dice were packed up, game boxes stacked, and sleepy goodbyes were exchanged at the door. Parker and Chance left last, just like they always did, stepping out into the quiet street under a sky scattered with stars.
They walked side by side, their fingers laced together. The pavement was lit by pools of warm yellow light from the streetlamps above. The air had turned colder since they’d arrived, crisp with the edge of oncoming fall.
Parker shivered in his thin tank top and vest, rubbing at his arms. He didn’t say anything, but Chance noticed right away. He stopped walking, pulled his hoodie over his head, and handed it to Parker with a small smile.
“I can’t let you be cold,” Chance said. “What kind of boyfriend would I be?”
Parker blinked, heart fluttering at the word. Boyfriend. It still felt new and strange and wonderful. He took the hoodie, slipping it on. It was too big on him, the sleeves falling past his wrists, but it was warm and it smelled like Chance. He hugged it close.
“Thanks, Chance. You’re the best,” he said softly, looking up at him.
Chance smiled and gave his hand another gentle squeeze. Parker leaned his head against Chance’s shoulder as they walked the rest of the way, the night quiet and full of possibilities, their steps falling in sync as the dorm came into view.
Chapter 10
Parker and Chance stepped into their dorm, the familiar door clicking shut behind them. The air was quiet, still holding a bit of the laughter from earlier in the night. Parker felt content, the buzz of happiness still humming through his chest. It had been a good night, maybe one of the best, and he got to spend it with Chance.
But as he looked around the room, something tugged at his thoughts. The layout, once familiar, suddenly felt like it didn’t fit anymore. He paused, tilting his head slightly, lost in thought.
Chance caught the shift in his expression right away. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, gently nudging Parker’s shoulder with his own.
Parker’s brow furrowed as he glanced between their two beds, still spaced a few feet apart. “What would you think about pushing our beds together?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “It would save space.”
Chance raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Efficiency,” he said, smiling. “You could just admit you want to sleep with me.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Chance’s cheeks flushed pink, realizing how easily they could be misinterpreted. “I mean— I didn’t mean—”
Parker shot Chance a devilish grin. “I mean, if you need me to spell it out for you,” he teased, sticking his tongue out just to make Chance roll his eyes.
“So,” Parker said with a playful lilt in his voice, “big bed?”
Chance didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, cheeks still faintly pink.
Together, they moved around the room, dragging the twin beds across the floor until they met neatly in the middle. It wasn’t elegant, but it was theirs now. One bed, shared between them, taking up the space where awkward tension used to live.
Parker stepped back to admire their handiwork, then glanced at Chance with a soft smile. “That’s better.”
Chance smiled softly. “It is.”
He stepped up behind Parker, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Parker looked small in his hoodie, the sleeves slightly too long, the fabric loose on his frame. Chance felt his heart skip at the sight. For a fleeting moment, he imagined Parker wearing nothing but that hoodie, and his face flushed red almost instantly.
He quickly buried his face in Parker’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Chance?” Parker asked, turning his head slightly and reaching up to thread his fingers gently through Chance’s soft, dark hair.
“N-nothing,” Chance mumbled, still hiding, voice muffled.
Parker grinned at the reaction, his touch lingering in Chance’s hair. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” he said, his voice warm with affection.
Chance just held him tighter.
Parker leaned back against Chance and felt something. He paused the way his hand curled in his hair,
“Chance… are you hard right now?” Parker asked with a laugh, grinning at his boyfriend who was still hiding his face in his neck.
Part of Chance wanted to back away and apologize already, but a stronger part of him urged him to stay just like this, with his erection pressed against Parker’s ass, so he squeezed him tighter to himself.
Parker grinned at the reaction, his touch lingering in Chance’s hair. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” he said, his voice warm with affection.
Parker could feel himself start to harden in his pants, a warm pressure building low in his belly. He bit his lip and turned around in Chance's grasp until they were facing each other, chests touching. Chance's face was flushed crimson from his neck to the tips of his ears, his ember eyes wide and glittering in the dim light of their dorm room. Parker loved that look, the way Chance's composure always crumbled so beautifully when he was flustered.
He reached up to take Chance's chin, thumb brushing over the slight stubble there, and pulled him into a kiss that was different from all their others. This one was hungrier, deeper, a current of electricity running between them where their lips met. Their mouths moved together with a desperate rhythm, breaths coming faster between each press. Parker brushed his tongue along the seam of Chance's bottom lip, feeling it quiver beneath his touch, and when Chance's lips parted on a soft gasp, Parker slipped inside, tasting something uniquely Chance that made his head spin.
Chance guided Parker backward until his legs hit the edge of their newly joined beds. Parker sank down onto the mattresses, Chance following him down, their bodies a whisper apart. The kiss broke with Parker's teeth grazing Chance's lower lip, drawing a soft sound from him. Their eyes locked, breath coming quick and shallow, the weight of the moment settling between them.
"Let's break in the bed," Parker suggested with a mischievous grin at Chance, who nodded slowly, any hesitation disappearing. As Parker started to remove Chance's shirt, he tossed it aside, allowing his hands to wander over Chance's chest and stomach. The muscles were there, but they were covered by a delightfully soft layer of pudge.
Parker gazed at him with desire, his thumbs grazing Chance's nipples, eliciting a soft grunt that sent tingles down Parker's spine. He was about to remove his own hoodie when Chance stopped him.
"Wait... I want you to keep that on," Chance whispered softly, leaning down to press his gentle lips against Parker's throat. "Please," he murmured quietly into Parker's ear.
Parker shivered as Chance's lips pressed against the sensitive hollow of his neck, goosebumps rippling across his skin. He grinned, fingers threading through Chance's hair—silky strands that caught the dim light as they slipped between his fingers. "Whatever you want, babe," he whispered, voice husky with desire, "but get me out of these pants." His breath came in shallow gasps, the fabric suddenly unbearably restrictive.
Chance's amber eyes darkened as his fingers found Parker's waistband, thumbs brushing against the strip of exposed skin just above. With deliberate slowness, he tugged downward, the fabric sliding over Parker's thighs with a soft whisper. Parker arched his back, a breathy whine escaping his lips as the cool dorm air caressed his newly exposed skin, his arousal straining upward between them, flushed and eager.
Parker's gaze traveled upward, taking in the sight above him—Chance's bare torso caught in the half-light, a thin sheen of sweat making his skin gleam. Chance was looking at him with such raw hunger that Parker felt it like a physical touch. Those eyes, usually so gentle, now burned with an intensity that made Parker's pulse quicken beneath the borrowed hoodie. No one had ever looked at him like that before, like he was something precious and desperately needed all at once.
Parker’s hands slid down to Chance’s waist, his touch both deliberate and tender. “Your turn,” he breathed softly, his voice a gentle whisper as he tugged at the belt loops on Chance's well-worn jeans. Chance stepped back slightly, a small smile playing on his lips, and obliged by unbuttoning his pants. With a casual flick, they slid down his legs and pooled around his feet. He then peeled off his briefs, letting them join the discarded jeans on the floor.
Parker adjusted himself on the bed, propping up on his elbows to take in the full view. His eyes roamed over Chance's form, lingering on the way his cock stood firm and proud, glistening at the tip with beads of pre-cum. “Fuck, you’re so hot, Chance…” he sighed, his voice heavy with a dreamy admiration that colored the air between them.
Chance's cheeks were still tinged with a warm blush, though it was clear that the flush was more concentrated now, directed downward to his eager and pulsing erection. “I love the way you look in my hoodie,” Chance murmured, his voice carrying a hint of surprise, as if he hadn’t planned on voicing that thought aloud.
A deep flush crept up Parker's face, matching the heat in the room, as Chance moved swiftly to hover over him once more. Chance’s hands were a gentle exploration beneath the hoodie and shirt, fingers grazing Parker's skin.
Parker felt as though the air had been stolen from his lungs, each touch from Chance sending shivers across his skin. Chance’s fingers danced delicately over Parker's chest, the hoodie riding up slightly to reveal the soft curve of his stomach beneath. The touch was reverent, as if Parker might shatter under anything less gentle.
With trembling fingers, Parker traced the contours of Chance's body as well, exploring every ridge and hollow on his descent. His hand finally found its destination, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks in a warm grip. The sensation of Chance throbbing against him sent electricity up Parker's spine. He looked up, meeting those burning amber eyes, and couldn't help but bite his lip at the intensity he found there.
With a gentle rhythm, Parker stroked them both together, his palm creating a warm tunnel of pleasure. Each upward motion drew a gasp from Chance, who had fallen silent except for his ragged breathing. Chance buried his face against Parker's neck, his hips moving in desperate, shallow thrusts that matched the rhythm of Parker's hand.
"Parker—" His name tumbled from Chance's lips in a breathless plea that sent a tremor through his chest. "Kiss me." Chance lifted his head from where it had been buried against Parker's shoulder, revealing eyes dark with need. Parker drank in the sight for one suspended moment before sliding his free hand into Chance's hair, drawing him down until their mouths crashed together. As their lips moved in desperate harmony, Parker rolled his hips upward, seeking more of that exquisite friction, soft whimpers escaping into the heat of Chance's mouth.
They remained that way for a few moments, intensifying the kiss as it lingered. Chance was the one to pull away first, a thin thread of saliva still linking their lips. "I—I'm close," he murmured to Parker, in a beautifully vulnerable tone.
Parker drank in the sight above him—Chance's parted lips flushed crimson, his amber eyes half-lidded and glassy with desire, a single strand of dark hair clinging damply to his forehead. The vulnerability etched across his features made Parker's chest ache with something deeper than lust. This was a version of Chance no one else got to see, stripped of his careful composure, raw and wanting. Parker wished he could capture this moment forever, preserve it like a photograph he could return to on lonely nights.
Parker's hand stilled, drawing a soft, needy sound from Chance's throat. With his other hand, Parker traced a path from Chance's hair to the warm flush of his cheek, then pulled him down for one last kiss, deep and urgent, a promise of what was to come. When they broke apart, Parker's voice was honey-dark with desire. "On your back," he whispered against Chance's lips. Chance moved without hesitation, shifting his weight until he lay against the rumpled sheets, eyes never leaving Parker's as strong hands found their place on Parker's hips, steadying him as he settled above.
Parker stretched toward the nightstand, fingers closing around the small bottle. The mattress dipped as he settled back onto Chance's thighs, the borrowed hoodie slipping off one shoulder. The plastic cap made a soft click as he opened it. "Think you can get me ready?" he asked, voice low and playful. Beneath him, Chance stared up with parted lips, transfixed by the sight of Parker drowning in fabric that smelled like him.
Chance nodded wordlessly, his eyes never leaving Parker's face. Parker uncapped the bottle, drizzling the clear liquid over Chance's waiting fingers until they glistened in the low light. A shiver ran through him as Chance's slick hand found its way between his thighs, one finger circling his entrance with gentle pressure.
Parker emitted a soft groan when he sensed the firm pressure of Chance’s fingers entering him. His muscles tightened around them instinctively. Chance continued, pressing his finger in until it reached the knuckle. Then, he gently started to move his finger in and out, drawing a louder moan from Parker.
After a short while, he prepared to introduce a second finger. Carefully, he moved his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch him sufficiently.
"O-Okay, that's enough—fuck—I need you, Chance," Parker stammered, his face buried against Chance’s chest, hands gripping his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscle.
Chance threaded his clean hand through Parker's tousled hair, streaked with fading blues and purples. He cradled Parker's head as he slowly withdrew his fingers, drawing a soft, needy whimper despite Parker's earlier urgency. With deliberate care, Chance slicked himself with lube, his eyes never leaving Parker's face, determined that even in their desperation, there would be no pain between them.
After Chance was ready, Parker sat upright and placed his hands on Chance’s chest. Hovering above Chance’s shaft, he gradually eased himself down, biting his lip as the initial stretch caused a burning sensation. Despite the discomfort, he continued at an excruciatingly slow pace until he had fully taken in Chance.
Parker's breath came in shallow gasps, his trembling arms barely supporting his weight. Beneath him, Chance remained perfectly still, only his thumbs moving in gentle circles against Parker's hipbones. "You're doing so well," Chance whispered, voice rough with restraint, and Parker felt something bloom in his chest, warm and tender amid the heat.
After a few more moments of shifting, Parker couldn't bear it any longer. He raised his hips and lowered them again, drawing a soft moan from both himself and Chance. He repeated the motion, gradually establishing a slow yet steady rhythm between them.
Parker drank in the sight of Chance beneath him—soft figure and golden skin against the rumpled sheets, amber eyes half-lidded and dark with desire, lips parted and swollen from their kisses. The vulnerability etched across his usually composed features burned itself into Parker's memory, a sacred image he knew he'd revisit in dreams for years to come.
Heat coiled tight at the base of Parker's spine, his thighs beginning to tremble with the effort of maintaining rhythm. Beneath him, Chance's breath had shortened to gasps, his fingers digging crescents into Parker's hips, both of them close to reaching their peak.
Parker sensed Chance starting to thrust his hips against him. He took Chance's hand and led it to his own forgotten cock. Chance quickly understood, matching his strokes to their rhythm.
"Parker," Chance sighed in ecstasy.
"Chance," Parker replied with a soft moan.
After that, it didn't take long for either of them to climax. Chance was the first, overwhelmed by the snug embrace that made him gasp aloud. He felt his body tense and shudder, releasing deeply within his partner.
The sensation of Chance's release flooding him pushed Parker over the edge. With a broken cry, he shattered completely, his fingers leaving crescent marks on Chance's shoulders as his own pleasure spilled hot between their bodies.
Parker collapsed against Chance's chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. They remained tangled together for several minutes, heartbeats gradually slowing in unison, skin cooling in the quiet aftermath. When Parker finally shifted to lie beside him, he felt the warm evidence of their connection trailing along his inner thigh as he settled against the sheets.
Chance's chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths as he glanced at Parker. With effort, he pushed himself up from the mattress. Parker's arm lifted toward him, fingers grasping at empty air, a soft sound of protest escaping his throat. Chance leaned down, pressed his lips to Parker's damp forehead. "Just getting something to clean us up," he murmured against warm skin. "I'll be right back."
After they had cleaned up and changed, both of them now in their underwear, Parker curled up beside Chance under the blankets. He was still wearing Chance’s hoodie, its oversized sleeves bunched around his wrists. His head rested on Chance’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Chance smiled, fingers lazily combing through Parker’s hair. The quiet felt warm between them, unhurried.
“That was… pretty amazing,” Chance said softly, his voice still a little dazed.
Parker looked up at him, a sleepy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It really was.” He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Chance’s nose, then tucked himself in closer.
Chance let out a breath of a laugh, wrapping his arms around Parker a little tighter. Neither of them felt the need to say anything more right away. Just being there, tangled up together, was enough.
The room was quiet except for the hum of the heater and the slow, even sound of their breathing. Chance’s hand moved in slow, steady circles along Parker’s back, grounding both of them in the quiet warmth of the moment.
“I love you, Parker,” Chance whispered. His voice was low, almost a breath, but every word carried weight. Honest. Steady. Like he’d been holding it in for a long time and finally had the courage to say it.
Parker didn’t answer right away. He just held him tighter, burying his face into the curve of Chance’s neck. A smile pulled at his lips, small and soft and real.
“I love you too, Chance,” he whispered back.
They stayed like that for a while, tangled up in each other, with the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Just heartbeats, quiet affection, and the feeling of being exactly where they were meant to be.
And for the first time in a long time, Parker felt completely at peace.
my roommate doesnt wanna room with me bc im a guy 😭
i mean at least shes accepting and not transphobic, the reason she doesnt wanna room with me is bc she doesnt feel comfortable rooming with a dude. but bro my parents are gonna slime me out if they find out
if i cant get a new roommate soon in the same building my parents are gonna actually kill me 💔
