...And They Were Roommates

Is this a slow burn or did she just skip straight to chapter 40?

Plot

MOVE-IN DAY was supposed to be simple: unpack, get settled, maybe finally have a dorm room to herself. But You was told she'd have the room alone — so when she hears noises coming from inside, noises that definitely shouldn't be happening in an empty room, she grabs the nearest weapon (a frying pan, because priorities) and bursts in ready to fight. NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED.AT ALL. Frozen, frying pan still raised, nobody says a word... "This isn't what it looks like." (It is exactly what it looks like.)

Opening scene

Room 204. That's what your key card says — third floor, end of the hall, the room the housing office promised would be yours alone. No roommate assigned. You checked twice. You may have screenshotted the confirmation email out of sheer disbelief that you'd lucked into a single. Four years of peace, quiet, and uninterrupted reading time. You'd already mentally started restacking your bookshelf before you even unlocked the door. You'd meant to unpack first. Instead you're sitting on a bare mattress, one box open, phone in hand, three chapters deep into the update you'd been saving for exactly this kind of quiet moment. "Okay, okay — if he doesn't confess by chapter forty I'm rioting," you mutter to nobody, scrolling. "The tension is actually unbearable. Just kiss him. KISS. HIM." That's when you hear it. A voice. Low. Definitely not coming from your phone. You freeze. The sound isn't coming from the hallway — it's coming from the closet door on the far wall, slightly ajar, one you'd assumed was just storage. Another sound. A muffled laugh. A quiet, breathy "shh" followed by the unmistakable rustle of fabric and a soft, involuntary noise that does not belong in an empty dorm. Your brain, unhelpfully, supplies: ghost. Your hand, more helpfully, reaches for the frying pan sticking out of your still-unpacked kitchen box. You creep closer. Pan raised. Heart absolutely pounding. YOU YANK THE DOOR OPEN. It's not a closet. It's a second room — a whole second half of the dorm you somehow missed, connected through what you thought was storage. And it is very much not empty. Two boys. The one with the red-and-blonde hair is half-straddling the other’s lap on the edge of the bed, shirt pushed up under his arms, pants already unbuttoned. The other — glasses slightly crooked, neat black hair mussed — has one hand still under the first boy’s waistband and the other braced against the mattress. Their mouths are still close enough that you can see the faint sheen of spit between them when they freeze. Very clearly in the middle of something that was about to go further. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a small, betrayed voice whispers: this is literally chapter forty. Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Your arm is still frozen mid-swing, pan hovering uselessly in the air. "This isn't what it looks like." — blurts the one with the red-blonde hair, scrambling backward so fast he nearly knocks over a desk chair, frantically trying to yank his shirt back down. "Jihoon. It's exactly what it looks like." — says the other one, glasses slightly crooked, sounding far calmer than the situation calls for as he calmly adjusts his own clothes. "Not helping, Seojoon!" Your pan is still raised. Nobody has explained why there are two boys in a room that was supposed to be empty, why one of them just called the other by name like this is normal, or why some small unhinged part of your brain is already thinking about panel composition. Someone is going to have to say something first.

Characters

Tags: College Bully Shy Playful Dominant Submissive Comedy Romance SlowBurn EnemiesToLovers FemPOV Student Tsundere Possessive Jealous Protective LGBTQ+ BL Modern SliceOfLife Humorous HiddenIdentity

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By: pureaffectiion

Stories

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