hey girly!! this is the first time I’ve ever done a request on here but your writing is just impeccable and it gets me all excited whenever I see that you posted something new, sooo I just haddd to ask if you could do a college au with kid! where he’s like a engineering major or something like that, the rest is up to you. anyways keep up the amazing work!!!
complaints and a confession | eustass kid
➳ categories: college au, gender neutral reader ➳ warnings: mention of a sex scene not including reader ➳ word count: 2.8k
➳ summary: You spend a term abroad to represent your university, but you pay for it by being next-door dorm-mates with Eustass Kid, engineering exemplar and the harbinger of chaos.
➳ cross-posted on ao3
People think you regret choosing your major because you complain about it to no end, but no, they're wrong—you love it a lot. You just love to bitch about it.
As the saying goes, "momma didn't raise no quitter," and you consistently stick to that slogan because your mother, in fact, did not raise a quitter—she raised a complainer. It was only through constant bitching about the coursework and difficulty did you manage to survive three consecutive years of university because it psychologically conditioned you to do better for some reason. And now that you're offered a full scholarship to a term abroad, you have your unconventional study tricks to thank.
In the blink of an eye, you're unlocking your dorm room in the University of North Blue and shelving items from home where they will sit for the next five months. You're in the middle of rearranging furniture when you hear panicked whispering from next door.
"Fucking keys ain't working. Who the fuck even uses them anymore?"
As you step out of your room, you find no other than Eustass Kid in the doorway next to you, pathetically fumbling with the keys to his supposed room. Kid is one of the engineering dudes from university who got a full-ride to the exchange program like you did, so you've met him before at a pre-trip gathering with your benefactors.
And just like you, he loves to complain. While his genius is recognized by many, he runs his mouth like crazy; there's not a sentence he says that isn't creatively questionable. He cusses like a sailor and his strong domineering personality scares away most people. And like those people, you know better than to stick your nose in places you shouldn't, so you avoid all interactions with Kid like the plague.
But he seems to be struggling with his keys right now and you almost feel sorry for him, so you're lending him a hand seconds later like the good next-door neighbor you are.
"Here, let me open it for you."
As if you've lived there all your life, you open his room with ease. Kid is delighted by your help, shown by a small smile stretching across his lips, and he cracks a joke that you don't know how to reply to.
"Feel like I've seen you before," he says playfully, "at a dinner party or something."
"At the benefactors' dinner, maybe?" You decide that it's better to just take it seriously than to play along. Truth be told, your social battery isn't full enough to joke around right now.
"Nah, just kidding. I know who you are. There aren't many South Blue scholars here." He winks at you, but you fail to process it. "What, did you forget about me and stuff?"
You shake your head frantically. "No, of course not. You're Kid. Nice to meet you."
He shakes your hand after you tell him your name. His hand is big, far bigger than yours, and rough from the many mechatronic projects he's conducted.
"Guess I'll be seeing you around often. Thanks for the help."
Kid shoots you a charming smile and enters his space. You don't see him for the rest of the day, but by the third morning at university, you conclude that you will be seeing him often.
Besides being your next-door neighbor, you're subjected to Kid's presence as you and him are two of the six South Blue scholars in the North. This means attending exclusive dinners and campus activities together, events that you thoroughly enjoy but spend tolerating his chaos.
He's an attention-getter. You witness him do something out of the blue at any random moment to give everyone a heart attack, but he gets out of it with his charisma. One time, he started a flashmob in the middle of the cafeteria after a group of metalheads made him listen to a North Blue band. While Kid was an amazing performer, he ended the stunt by accidentally kicking someone's lunch off the table he stood on, so it was a rather embarrassing end for him.
Even then, he earned the Popular Guy status not long afterward, with the cafeteria performance being his breakthrough. After paying for the poor guy's lunch, he swung by your table to flex on you, as if it would woo you to fall for him.
"Hey-o, little dork. Did you see me up there? Hope you did."
It still confuses you to think about to this day—what was with the nickname? The random flex? The "did-you-see-me-up-there?" and "hope-you-did"? What, did he do it for you? No, he possibly couldn't have. So you believe it was his ego speaking, which seems to be the most plausible, considering how his cocky attitude shows 99.9% of the time anyway.
As a matter of fact, it even shows in his academics, something not as shocking but shocking nonetheless. And the first time you realize it, you're caught in a pinch.
At some point in the semester, Kid comes knocking on your door in formal attire, looking put-together and professional. As you open your door, he's adjusting his shirt cuffs and jewelry like he's anxious about looking horrible.
"Hello?"
"Do you know how to tie a tie?"
You refrain yourself from sighing. Do guys know how to do everything but tie a tie?
"I do."
"Then help me."
Moments later, you're in Kid's room, tying the tie he miserably failed to do after some attempts and a tutorial video. But you see his change of clothes for an after party and cringe at the wrinkles, so you offer to steam them as he watches you smugly.
"If you're asking, I have a conference this afternoon and I have to look decent," he breaks the silence some time later.
I wasn't asking. "I wasn't asking," you say subconsciously, then you realize that you've spoken your mind. "Sorry. That was rude."
He laughs.
"About damn time you start joking. I was starting to think you were no fun like the little dork you are." You narrow your eyes at him before averting your gaze.
"What's with that nickname?" you mumble. "FYI, I'm socially adept."
"Nah. I think it matches you quite well," he says. "Always reading some book and shit wherever you are. Always taking notes, too. You pay attention like a fox."
You raise a brow. "So?"
"You're not an ordinary dork. You're a-dork-able."
For some reason, hearing Kid try to flirt with you sends shivers down your spine. It's even worse knowing that he's burning holes through your head, watching your every move as you try to come up with a reasonable response. Newsflash: you can't.
Instead, you steam the last of his button-down and make a beeline for his closet. You note the abundance of unique clothing pieces on the floor and hang his shirt curtly before heading for the door.
"Hey," Kid calls out to you as you whiz past him, "come to my poster presentation later. Three o'clock."
But you've already disappeared into your room.
Later that afternoon, you make the difficult decision to show up to Kid's conference presentation at the university auditorium. While you desperately didn't feel like seeing him, you thought you should since he invited you.
He's socializing with professors when you find him, so you promptly turn to leave, but he's beside you not long after.
"You came for me."
"You asked me to," you mumble.
"Didn't think you'd still come."
"Well, I'm here now, so . . ."
Kid introduces you to his months-old project and that's when you learn how big of a mecha geek he is. He specializes in Robotics and Mechatronics and he's working on improving a smart system for neurological applications. When he's done yapping his heart away, he pulls you aside to sneak a vote for him in the ballot box.
Later that day, you learn that he won first place. ("Congrats!" you tell him. "Thanks. I knew I was gonna win," he says.) The next morning, he takes you out to brunch using the prize money to thank you for your help.
At this point, Kid seems to be a balanced mix of both worlds. He has his ups and downs as a friend—if you can even call him that—and he seems to like you a lot, possibly more than he should. Whether or not his feelings are romantic is up for debate, but you're quite confident that he sees something in you that nobody else does.
Until you aren't.
You're writing a midterm paper due the next morning when deep groans sound from the room next to you. They continue for a couple of minutes before your focus is completely shattered, leaving you to write your paper with Kid's sexual grunting as background noise.
While your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you ignore his lewd noises for your sanity. You think you're doing a good job until—
"Is that a woman's voice?"
You stay still for a few seconds to listen. As expected, a shrill comes from the room next door, similar to what you just heard.
He's in there with a woman; no doubt about it.
"Fuck my life," you grumble under your breath. Out of all times and places, Kid decides to brag about his sex life when you're close to passing out from the all-nighter you're currently pulling. It hurts to continue your assignment when the one guy you thought liked you is fucking somebody else next door, but you drown your sadness with an energy drink to power through the night.
When you wake up later that day, your assignment has been submitted and you're doomscrolling in bed. You're also figuring out what to tell Kid once you confront him that evening.
But perhaps "confront" is a much ambitious word for what actually happens: when you're positive that Kid is back home, you dress yourself nicely before bravely knocking on his door. He answers you right away as if he'd been waiting for you to come.
"Hey, little dork. Haven't seen you around much," says Kid with a welcoming smile on his face. Too bad, though, because you're about to piss him off.
"Hi," you reply coldly. Kid perks up at your tone, an unexpected occurrence. "I know you've been stressed out lately and having sex is a good way to relieve that, but I happen to be stressed out just the same. Now, if you can do me a favor, would you and your girl please keep it down at night so that I can pass my midterms?"
You expect Kid to laugh at your face and start ridiculing you, but for some reason, he looks confused.
"What?"
"I meant to say, for all the noise you've been making last night, I would've at least appreciated it if you toned it down a notch," you explain.
Still confused, Kid shifts his posture. His smile is long gone.
"I don't understand. You okay?"
You narrow your brows at him. Is he about to play dumb? Could be. You know he's done it before to get away from arguments, but he's not fooling you.
"I'm not okay, actually. Especially after I spent the entire night listening to you and another woman while writing my paper. It was hard to focus, you know."
"Another woman?" He glances over his shoulder. "Like, in my room?"
"Yes. Last night."
"Seriously?"
"Yes! Seriously!" you exclaim. You're starting to get annoyed. "Look, it's okay to tell me that you're sleeping with someone. All I ask is for my silence to be respected during the wee hours of the night."
"You have it all wrong," he says. "I'm not seeing anyone."
You shake your head.
"Whatever, Kid. You don't have to lie to me if you think that I'm upset."
He shakes his head back.
"I'm telling you, there isn't anybody."
"Then what did I hear last night?!" you burst. "Sorry—I didn't mean to sound rude. But I know what I heard and I don't appreciate being lied to."
"I wasn't in my room last night, okay? I was up at the lab for a project," says Kid.
"Yeah, a project with the girl you brought back to dorm with no consideration of noise?" Kid is stunned by your choice of words and it's etched across his face. You're bitching about this too much; it's time to stop. "I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Just, can you please tone it down the next time you do it? Thanks."
As you head back to your room, Kid grabs your wrist and pulls you back toward him. You catch a glimpse of his stupid face and for some reason, the fucker is smiling.
"I don't have a damn clue what woman you're talking about," he starts, "but are you sure this isn't coming from a place of jealousy?"
You force his hand off of yours.
"I'm in no position to be jealous."
"I know, but that doesn't mean you aren't."
Glaring at him, you push the door to your room open and seclude yourself for the rest of the day.
You swear you're not mad. No, you're totally not.
But you're consumed by bad vibes and it's not fun.
"Are you sure this isn't coming from a place of jealousy?"
You make a mess of your hair every time you subconsciously hear his voice. No, you don't want to think about him. You don't want to think why you're incredibly bothered either. It should be clear that your annoyance comes from the uncomfortable position Kid has subjected you to while you were scholarly working on an assignment, but he obviously called bullshit and it's bothering you immensely.
"I'm not jealous, am I?" you say to yourself. The most you feel is being let down by your assumptions after thinking that Kid is into you, but it's not like you envy the woman he was with the night before.
It's a ridiculous back-and-forth conversation with yourself until you wake up the next morning and head to class like normal. You make sure to leave at dawn to keep yourself from running into Kid, and you manage to avoid him on campus until dinnertime.
He's the one who sees you first, granted that he's been waiting outside your door for the past hour. So when you round the corner of your floor, you almost withdraw to the elevator just to ignore him.
But there's no point in doing so because you're tired after a long day at school, and you're no child to keep running away from your problems, so you approach him slowly and anxiously.
"About time you arrive."
"How long have you been here for?" you ask.
"Long enough to almost bring a chair out."
You purse your lips. Kid uncrosses his arms and walks over to his door.
"Well, there's someone you need to meet since I can't get behind you being mad at me any longer."
Once Kid opens his door, a man around your age shuffles out of the room. He waves at you awkwardly and side-eyes Kid like they're up to something.
"Um," you stutter, "who are you?"
"I'm a friend," he says.
"The friend who fucking snuck in my room and brought a girl to smash a day ago." Kid punches his side in annoyance. His friend winces in pain.
"Yeah, about that . . ." The dude rubs his side timidly. "I've been told to apologize for disrespecting your night. I'm sorry."
Your eyes go wide.
"I'm sorry for having sex in Kid's room and for thinking that he's playing with your feelings. I had no malicious intentions."
You rush next to Kid and slap his shoulder out of impulse.
"You didn't need to bring your friend over just to apologize," you hiss.
"He bothered you, so I had to."
"Well, yeah, but this is embarrassing!"
You feel bad for the guy, so you tell him to scram as soon as possible. When he's gone from the vicinity after ample apologies, you find yourself and Kid in your room to clear the matter.
"Do you still think I'm lying?"
"No, but I might keep hating you for humiliating a friend."
When you look at him, Kid is grinning to himself.
"And you're enjoying seeing me mad. For fuck's sake, I can't win against you," you rumble.
He hums. "Now that you know I'm not fucking anybody, are you still jealous?"
Heat rushes to your face.
"Get out. Now."
He chuckles.
"I like you, pretty face. The moment you see me with someone is when I'm over you, and that's not happening anytime soon."
Your heart is beating out of your chest. Flustered, you cover your face with your hands. Kid takes this as a sign to leave. He figures you need time to think things through.
"Get some dinner, you dork. Good night."
