A/N: Hello readers. If you’ve read any of my other (very slowly updated) work, you know that I like a lot of details and storyline. This story is just one part, but it is kinda long! Had to write a little something else as the inspiration came, but I’ll be back to my other stories on here asap. This one is kinda typical. Feel free to skip to the end for the sex, but I think the slow burn is fun 😉 Happy reading!
Javier Vargas knew his roommate must’ve been a popular guy before they got to college. There’s two big collage photos on his desk with various people, and a little glass case with a few championship rings.
He can also tell by the array of designer hoodies and sizable-for-a-dorm Jordan shoes collection that Brady Olsen was probably stacked too, or his parents were, at least. Javier stares at the side of the room that has been set up seemingly overnight. Javier figured Brady ACTUALLY must’ve done it overnight. He wonders how the guy didn’t make any noise. There’s pictures everywhere, athlete posters of all different sports, other various decor. A little rug. Nice bedcovers, striped. Two gym bags. Lots of school gear. A big TV.
Brady hasn’t been in their room the whole weekend it seems, at least when Javier is awake. It’s Sunday. They were a part of the same orientation group, and Brady also seemed to rake in the attention from damn near everyone. They clung to his words, it seemed. Javier was quiet for the most part. He was sure he’d make friends in due time, but the best friends come from the woodworks, his mom said. Brady seemed to like attention. Javier was more academic-focused than many around him, although he liked his share of fun. He wondered if Brady was some kind of jock beforehand.
Javier hangs up a poster, a tiny set of string lights, stuffs his desk full of supplies. He makes a mental note to get a rug.
The door opens, and in walks his roommate, looking like he’s in a rush. “Hey,” Brady says softly.
“You seen my nametag? I put my meal card thingy on it, damn,” Brady digs through a bag. It’s going on 10:30pm, Javier wonders what meal Brady could be eating by now. “Ughhh, damn damn damn.”
“Maybe it’s in your pocket?” Javier suggests. Brady turns to him, hand on his hips, frown on his face.
“I didn’t think of that,” he says sarcastically. Then he seems to get an epiphany, and digs under his pillow, pulling the lanyard from it. “Yes. Alright… deodorant-” Brady seems to rush all around the room, saying everything he’s going to do before he does it. “I’m going to dessert with some people from our group, you coming?” he asks, and at first, Javier doesn’t know if he’s talking to him.
“Uh, no. I think I want to rest a lot before the first day,” Javier says. “Thanks, though.”
“No problemo,” Brady says, grabbing a hoodie. “See ya later, Javi.”
“Bye.” With that, Brady is off.
At 2am, Javier hears the door open, and Brady quietly makes his way around the room. He stays low volume for the most part, until he bumps into his desk, on the metal side. He seems to freeze, seemingly to see if Javier was awoken, which he is, but staying still. Brady continues his scuffle to head to bed.
At 8am, Brady is in his underwear at his desk, playing music softly, but loud enough to worm into the last of Javier’s dream. Javier pops up at the sound of trap music, and stares at the back of Brady’s head. Brunette. Longer at the top, like many guys these days, including Javier himself. Javi doesn’t know how he wants to approach the trap music at 8am conversation, but he’s not a fan. He thinks of gently tossing something to hit the middle of Brady’s wide, freckled back, but he doesn’t have anything on the bed besides a pillow, and doesn’t know if the tactics he uses on his siblings would have a good effect on his new, white roommate.
“H-hey,” Javier says, clearing his throat. Brady turns around, smiling even with his blue eyes.
“Hi! Good morning.” Brady turns his chair.
“Um, could you wear headphones? Or just, turn it down a little, or off. I was trying to sleep ’til 8:30,” Javier says. Brady frowns a little.
“I thought your class began at 9. You shouldn’t sleep in til right before a class,” Brady says. “That’s what my mom always told me. You need to prepare yourself for your day.”
Javier scoffs, sitting up, a little surprised at Brady’s supposed studiousness.. “I have to walk only five minutes to my first building. I’ll be okay, I think. And how do you know my class starts at 9?”
“You said it during orientation,” Brady says, as if it’s obvious. He turns back to his desk, and taps his pencil as the music plays. He seems to be watching sports highlights on mute.
“Why do you even remember that, though?” Javier asks.
“You’re my roommate… had to know how late I got to sleep in,” Brady says. “And also you acted scared during group so I tried to remember the three things you said.”
Javier shakes his head. “I wasn’t acting scared, dude. I just don’t need to make my best friends in 72 hours, Mr. istanbul travesti Prom King.” Brady stands up, coming over to stand in front of Javier’s bed. He’s very tall. 6’3″, probably, Javier thinks. Definitely a football bodied, Midwestern white kid. Javier was taller than 5’6″, but wasn’t quite 5’7″. He was always annoyed at how skinny he felt, even though he wasn’t even that skinny, just not as filled out as his twin brother, Jorge. Javier played sports in the early part of high school, but didn’t quite enjoy them, and knew he wasn’t good enough to keep going.
“I was prom king, actually,” Brady says. “But regardless, I’m sorry, I’ll be as quiet as possible, but my morning routine starts at 7:45. You snored through fifteen minutes before you woke up.”
“Let me snore for another fifteen then at least,” Javier snaps. Brady shrugs, and crosses his arms. He has big arms. Javier, studying anatomy and physiology, estimates that Brady must be about 220lbs. Not an overly big guy, but still big nonetheless. And all 6’3″ of him is just taking up space with just his underwear on. Underwear that Javi thought were kinda too small for Brady to even be comfortable. Javier had planned a roommate checklist, or meeting, or house rules session by the end of the second week, but he figured it might be best to do that sooner, rather than later.
“Okay, fine. But you’ll be grateful when you realize I’m right.” Brady puts his headphones in. “Go ahead, pass out for another thirty.”
“I’m already up, now.” He doesn’t know why he feels annoyed at Brady’s matter-of-factness regarding what he thinks Javier should be doing, but it riles him up a bit. Javier has prided himself on being a pretty laid back person, who stunned in grades in an unexpected way.
Javier intentionally plays a game on his phone until 8:40 before getting out of bed, putting on his already planned outfit, and fixing his hair in the mirror. Dark, thick hair that took nearly years to be able to train and flip up into the coiffed hairstyle he wears today. Javier picks at any tiny pimples that won’t cause damage to his face, and leaves, while Brady still bops along to trap music in his underwear. He doesn’t remember the part of orientation where Brady said when he had class.
On his way to “Chester” building for psychology, he scopes out the eye candy, subtly eyeing the young men as they walk. There are quite a few attractive faces. Quite a few faces and stylish men that Javier already scopes out to possibly be into other men. Javi himself hasn’t refrained from being a bit more flamboyant, getting an upgraded wardrobe of what he used to wear in high school. Just a little twist. He got his ears pierced, which his mom hated, but they eventually grew on her. He sees a lot of Latin boys with a style similar to his, and he figures it might not be too hard to spot some potential friends, even if they just talk about generic things to start.
As he sits down, he realizes that he hasn’t looked over his syllabus. The first day of college, and it’s the first time he’s been unprepared, despite putting everything neatly in his backpack.
The two classes afterward are the same way, except he finds out that according to his syllabus, he was supposed to watch a video before class. His own unpreparedness makes him anxious as he tries to go about his day. Maybe he should’ve started at 8, like Brady said. He decides to make up for lost time in the dining hall, where he recognizes a lot of people from his hall and orientation, but none by name besides Brady, of course, and the boy he sits with as they laugh it up, Connor. Javier thought Connor was cute, with his longer hair in waves down to his shoulders, and the way he still had bottom braces, and the dynamic way he spoke. It makes sense he and Brady connected, two confident young men. Brady was the type to take over the conversation, though, which Javier had to ignore for most of orientation or he’d just annoy himself.
Javier sits alone, face buried in a laptop. On his way out, he walks by Brady and Connor, and Connor stops him. “Hey, Javi! I didn’t know you were Brady’s roommate.”
“Yeah,” Javier says, not very excitedly. Brady laughs, not looking at him, but taking a big bite of food. Connor seems to only want to talk to Javi for this reason.
“Dope! You should sit with us next time,” Connor says, and Brady vocally agrees. “Aren’t you real smart?”
“Kinda,” Javi says. “I actually do have some work to do.” With that, he heads to their shared dorm.
Javier didn’t care if Brady knew he was gay; he might mention it during their roommate agreement chat. As their first week went on, he did notice Brady consistently leaving the dorm, looking like he was going to work out. Then he found out Brady played rugby. He’s glad Brady agrees to a meeting on Friday, because although he’s been quiet in the mornings, he’s still managed to wake Javi up.
“This should be like, five minutes,” Javi says, notebook in hand. “I figured I’d write them down, then make a big poster for the door.”
“Whatever istanbul travestileri floats your goat,” Brady shrugs.
“So, I guess I’ll start: uh, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make so much noise in the morning, especially because you do have class later.”
Brady seems to scoff, but he agrees. “Okay, no bright lights on past 9pm, please. Mood lighting only. You can still see your homework.” Brady picks his nails. Javi wants to resist the stupid rule, but he figures it’s equal.
“Alright, fine. String lights, lamp only. Um… alright I don’t think we should eat really fragrant food.”
“Agreed. Unless it’s delicious, and you share.”
Javi shakes his head. “No eating each other’s food period. No TV at night, it lights up the whole room.”
“Dude,” Brady says. “I’m gonna watch TV, sorry.”
“Well I dunno, watch dark things,” Javier shrugs. “And no hour-showers. And no just being in your underwear.”
“You take LONG-ass showers. Why are you being petty?” Brady asks. “If you have anyone over do a sock on the door.”
“So that the whole hallway knows I was kicked out? No way. Send a text.”
Brady rolls his eyes. “Why is it you being kicked out?”
“I assume you’ll have girls over,” Javier says, arms folded. Brady scoffs. “So no?”
Brady smiles. “I will have some girls over, yeah. But fine, a text is fine. Fine fine fine. Anything else?”
The two of them came up with a lengthy list, then debated which ones were too petty to keep up, and combined items that were similar. They came up with a 10 point agreement, and each of them begrudgingly decided to respectfully disagree on what didn’t make the list. It was like a collaborative effort. Not bad. Brady took major issue with the “no drinking alcohol or smoking in the room” rule, but Javier wore him down.
It got to be 11pm when they were doing their respective bedtime routines, playing on their phones. “So, do you speak Spanish?” Brady asks, not looking up from his screen.
“Dope, can you help when midterms come up?” Brady asks. “I am kinda good, but it’s not great.”
Javier turns his way. “I’m sure you’ll have a friend in your class who can help you by then.”
Brady clicks his phone off. “So I was right. You really don’t want to be friends.” He looks, annoyed, dark, thick eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down. “I thought you were stand-offish this week, but I guess it’s even more than I thought.”
Javier hasn’t been called out like this often. “I-I never said I didn’t want to be friends.”
Javier pauses again. “I-I think you and I probably don’t have a lot in common, so. Just based off orientation and stuff. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friendly. A friendly roommate… situation. And of course we’ll get to know each other soon. Living together and all.”
Brady squints. “So, no. Got it. That’s fine, dude. All you had to say,” Brady rolls over in bed, and plays on his phone again. “By the way, I also like Bleach, the anime. And I also did debate in high school. Saw your pics and your backpack,” he grumbles. “Goodnight.”
Javier feels a dual reaction to Brady’s tone. On one hand, he can’t help but take pride in his little blow to Brady’s ego. He’s probably the first person here who doesn’t want to grovel at the kid’s feet. But the tiny bit of hurt in Brady’s tone makes Javi wonder if it might just be best to avoid conflict altogether, since they would be spending at least the semester together. Javier also can’t shake the feeling of excitement that his opinion means something to Brady, his seemingly popular roommate. Javier was always laying low in school. He wasn’t overly popular, but not unknown. He did geeky things-band, debate, anime club-but he managed to be friendly with the “in-crowd” more often than not. As an overachiever, and student body president, he had to learn to get along with all types of kids, surface level. Even when it sucked. But for the summer before his first year at university, he went on an inward journey, and realized that college was a chance for him to be picky again. He had no desire to be student body president here. He was just going to get his degrees in biochemistry and human anatomy, and get a great job afterward. If friends came, they came. If they didn’t, they didn’t.
On Saturday morning, Javi brushes his teeth as there’s a knock on the door. He checks the peephole. A girl. He opens the door. “Hi! I’m Kristi,” she says. She’s blonde, with dark brown roots, brown eyes, cute face. She has on overalls, and is a little taller than Javi. “Is Brady here?”
“Yes, I am,” Brady calls. “Putting on a shirt.”
Kristi giggles. Javi remembers her from orientation. “He’s putting on a shirt,” Javi repeats. She giggles again. She’s very girl next door-y. Before long, Brady is on his way out with her, to breakfast, Javier supposes. He thinks it may not be so bad to have someone to eat breakfast with. He decides to get his own food to go, and eat and watch TV in the room.
Brady is seemingly gone the whole travesti istanbul weekend, only popping in and out of the room again. On Sunday night, however, he and Kristi have decided to watch a movie together on his bed. Javier gets a text about twenty minutes in.
BRADY: Hey, are u heading to dinner anytime soon?
Javi looks up at them from his laptop. Brady just stares at the TV, arm around Kristi’s shoulders.
JAVIER: I wasn’t planning on it.
BRADY: Well, when u do, can you stay out for 1 hour at least?
Javier looks up again while Brady types, and he does it very, very discreetly.
BRADY: tryna get my groove on
JAVIER: I’ll leave now, cause the quicker ur done, quicker I can have some peace.
BRADY: thanksss. 🙂
“Heading to dinner,” Javier says aloud.
“Ooh, Brady wanna go eat?” Kristi asks. “I’m starving, kinda.”
“Oh, I don’t eat with people. I do my homework,” Javier says on impulse. He’s surprised he is trying to reverse cock block for Brady. “I was gonna let you guys watch your movie, anyway.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Kristi smiles to herself, leaning back into him. Javi rolls his eyes at the sight, but heads out anyway.
At dinner, he can’t seem to focus on a damn thing besides the fact that Brady is indeed the first one to have sex in the dorm. Javi doesn’t even see the dorm as a comfortable place to have sex. He moves the mush of spicy with no flavor rice around on the plate, and takes a square bite of the chicken patty.
Brady is undoubtedly good-looking, yes. It makes sense that girls like him. By all accounts, he’s relatively cool, too. Aside from getting loud sometimes. Javier doesn’t mind that Brady is out on the weekend, too. Javier has mostly limited himself to jerking it in the shower, but when he got the sense that Brady will be out for more than a couple hours, he decided to chance it and have his own time on his bed. Just once, since they’ve lived together so far. Javier kepit under the covers, laying facedown on his knees to stick his ass in the air. He lubed up the 7 inches of dildo he debated not bringing, but decided it’d be worth it, and slipped it into himself from behind, plunging the toy in and out. Javi buried his face in his pillow, moaning softly at the feeling, fucking himself until he came into a wad of tissues.
He laid there for a while, and cleaned up right before Brady happened to come back.
As he pokes at some potatoes and sips a fruit punch, Connor joins him with just a small plate of cookies. “Hey.”
“You still play Halo?” Connor asks. Javi realizes that he should’ve paid more attention during orientation. He nods, even though he doesn’t have a console at the moment. “Dope. You should play with me and Dominick tomorrow.”
“Sure. What dorm you in?”
“Gimme your number,” Connor says, and he flashes that half-braced smile. They exchange contact info, and Javier can’t help but smile to himself. “Does Brady play?”
“I dunno. He’s a sports-head.”
“True. Well, I’ll catch ya later!” With that, Connor takes off. Javier feels the little butterflies. This must mean Connor thinks he’s interesting in some way. He knew if he just laid low for a bit, the right friends would come. If he happens to share a friend with Brady, that’s not so bad either. It means someone he didn’t dislike would be in the room.
Javier heads back to the dorm an hour and a half later, for safe keeping, and doesn’t hear anything that resembles sex sounds by the time he gets back. He would feel lame to text Brady and ask if he’s done, so he just chances it, opening the door slowly. Brady sits alone in bed, playing on his phone, hair absolutely a mess and cheeks flushed out. “Hey! What’s in the dining hall?”
“Um, chicken fried steak, something that they’re calling Mexican rice, but not really.”
“Gross. I’m ordering pizza,” Brady says with a sigh. No sign of Kristi in the room, but Brady’s satisfied demeanor tells Javier all he needs to know. “Want anything? Dessert?”
“No,” Javier says plainly. “Thanks.” That’s when he sees the very not hidden used condom in their shared trash can. He frowns at it, wondering if he should say anything. He decides against it. “Kristi is not terrible.”
“Yeah. Thanks for bouncing.”
“Some better warning would be nice,” Javier says. “But you’re welcome.”
“Your tone is always so hostile, so I will definitely give you a two-weeks notice anytime I bring someone over. God forbid you spontaneously hang out with a girl you wanna fuck one day.” Brady says, almost jokingly, but Javier knows there’s some truth. He hasn’t been very open to anything Brady’s done.
“I’m gay,” Javi says plainly.
“A guy then,” Brady huffs. “Are you going to take an hour-shower or should I take mine first?” Brady asks.
“Go for it, you probably need it,” Javier grumbles. Brady doesn’t hesitate, taking his speaker into their bathroom. He could stand to be a little warmer to his roommate.
A month later, and Javier expects the knock at the door to be Kristi, who he’s seen maybe ten or fifteen times, sometimes multiple times a day, but there stands a young, black girl, braids past her shoulders, down her back. She wears a sundress, and is about Javier’s height. “Is Brady here?” she asks. “I’m Ayana.”