"Alright," Professor Jane clapped her hands. "Today we're talking about ways to prevent injuries. Who wants to guess the most common mistake athletes make?"
A few hands shot up. I sat in the middle of my friends, James and John. Meeting them had been pure luck, we got paired for an assignment the first week, and somehow we clicked. People always assumed they were twins because of their names, but really, that was it. John was bigger, dark-skinned, bald, and had that shiny head that caught every light in the room. James was lean, clean-cut, with warm brown skin. Good guys, both of them.
Professor Jane moved on, demonstrating ankle taping, knee stabilization, and proper stretching sequences. I tried to focus, but my mind kept wandering.
"Dude, how's that crazy roommate of yours?" James asked, smirking.
My left eye twitched. That was a loaded question. Three months. Three long months of living with Dosu Michael, aka the human embodiment of chaos. I should have known from day one that it would be hell.
He played loud rap music at all hours, the kind that vibrated the walls and made my teeth rattle. If it wasn't that, it was the smell. God, the smell. A mix of unwashed clothes and something vaguely… biological. I had never smelled anything like it. And he walked around naked, constantly. I didn't need to see him to know he was big or whatever.
I clenched my fists.
"He's… fine," I muttered, though the word felt like a lie.
James laughed. "Fine? Bro, 'fine' doesn't cover living with a literal trainwreck."
John shook his head, grinning. "I mean, you told us the stories. Dude left a slice of pizza in the trash for three days. Three. Days. And don't get me started on the 'accidental' pee situation…"
I groaned, leaning back in my chair. "It's not funny."
"Not funny?" James raised an eyebrow. "It's textbook nightmare roommate material."
And he was right. Every day was war. Asking him to lower the music ended in yelling matches. Trying to get him to do laundry? Forget it. He loved chaos, and I had a tendency to explode.
Yet… there was something about him I couldn't ignore. Something that made my blood run faster whenever he walked into the room, wearing that infuriating smirk like he owned the place. I hated that I hated him.
I shoved my notebook open, hoping to drown my thoughts in diagrams and stretching sequences, but my attention kept slipping back to him. Dosu. The roommate from hell who somehow made life feel a little… more alive, in the most frustrating way possible.
Just thinking about his name made my brain short-circuit. I could feel myself slipping straight into story mode, into the mess that was my life with Dosu.
"I'm fucking tired, man," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. "He's always banging someone. Like I walk in, and they're… yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just give me a heads-up. A sock on the door handle, a text, a smiley on the whiteboard, anything! But noooope. It's like he wants me to see him fucking."
James snorted, smirking like I was exaggerating. "Come on… it can't be that bad. That guy must be some kind of machine to… you know, do that much."
I nearly rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. "And somehow, he still manages to stomp around like a marching band. People downstairs have commented on how loud he is. And then he wears those noise-canceling headphones while he's at it. Like… what even is that?"
John glanced over at the front of the class, where a couple of their mates were doing a demonstration, then back at me. "Jesus… dude. How do you even survive there?"
"Barely," I admitted, slumping in my seat. "I spend most of my time in the library or at your place. I just… I can't deal with him anymore. Seriously, who behaves like this?"
James grinned, nudging John, and they shared a fist-bump. "Apparently your roommate," James said, mockingly.
John put a hand on my shoulder. "Honestly… you can just crash at our place anytime. The door's always open. We've got your back."
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Thanks, but… I don't want to be a freeloader. Still, it's tempting."
My chest tightened. I hated that I was even tempted.
"Come over whenever," James said. "You need a safe zone away from… that. And if he tries anything funny, call us. We'll help you sort him out."
A small smile tugged at my lips. Maybe it was extreme, but honestly? If Dosu ever got physical with me, I wouldn't even care if my friends got involved.
After classes that afternoon, I pressed my ear to the door of my room, the one I shared with the Spartan of Satan, listening for any signs of life. To my surprise, silence. Sweet, beautiful silence.
I sighed, relief washing over me. Finally, I could enjoy my room without trouble. I reached for the handle, ready to slip inside and soak in the quiet.
And then I froze.
Dosu was sitting on his bed. Fully clothed, thank God… but not fully clothed. My stomach dropped as I realized, his zipper was undone, and a guy was kneeling in front of him, wet dick in his hand and from his mouth, I just knew it'd been there minutes ago. Both of them froze when they saw me standing there.
"Fuck!" I shouted, yanking my eyes away. "What is wrong with you? Do you even go to class? You are always here."
Words lodged in my throat. I knew Dosu had an… active love life, but men? That was new.
For the first time ever, Dosu looked embarrassed. His usual smirk was gone. The guy in front of him muttered something hurriedly, scrambled to his feet, and bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I stared at the closed door, trying to process what I had just witnessed. My heart was racing. My brain was screaming.
"Dude," I muttered through clenched teeth, pacing a little. "This is getting out of hand. Either lock the door so I know not to barge in, or… just tell me when someone's here. That's it. That's all I'm asking."
Dosu didn't answer. He just sat there. I couldn't even look at him right now.
That image was burned into my brain. The guy on his knees in front of him like he was worshipping some kind of god. Head bobbing up and down on Dosu's dick like it was a damn lollipop.
"I'm sorry."
I blinked.
"Yeah," I muttered stiffly. "You should be."
And then it hit me. Dosu… had just apologized.
That had never happened before. Not once in three months. Normally he'd twist the whole situation into some joke, some cheap shot to piss me off. But now he'd already zipped up his jeans and was just standing there.
Seconds passed and too many seconds. I realized I was still standing by the door like a statue.
"Since when do you fuck guys?" I asked finally.
Dosu hesitated. "I—" His lips pressed together like he was actually thinking about the answer. "Are you homophobic?"
I scoffed.
"I don't care what you do with your life," I said, forcing myself to look at him. "Just stop bringing people to the room without warning me. Girls, guys, whatever. Just tell me first. I don't need to walk in on… all that."
He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue.
Then he stopped.
His eyes dragged over my face slowly, studying me in this annoying, careful way. Like he was trying to figure something out.
And then, that stupid smirk appeared.
"Are you blushing?"
My jaw clenched instantly. "Damn right I'd blush because some guy was literally blowing you when I walked in."
The smirk widened and that was when he started walking toward me.
Something about the way he moved made the air in the room feel heavier. My pulse jumped, irritation crawling up my spine.
"Hm," he murmured. "That's not what I see."
I shot him a glare and stepped back instinctively.
My back hit the door. "Get away from me," I warned. "Or I swear to God I'll break your fucking jaw."
"You don't want to try that, and you know it," he said, stepping closer. Too close. My chest stiffened. "You against me? That's a lost cause."
Before I could react, he lifted his arm and planted it against the wall beside my head. My eyes followed it, tracing the muscles in his forearm, trying not to notice how unfairly imposing he looked.
"Sorry about that," he said softly, and for a second his usual arrogance softened. "About what you saw… and yeah, I do fuck guys too. I'm Bi. Is that… fine?"
I shoved against his chest, hard enough to make him step back slightly. "I don't give two fucks what you are. It doesn't change how much I hate you being in this room."
He smirked lightly, tilting his head. "Fair enough."
He turned and returned to his bed, sitting down like nothing had happened. Whatever that was… I didn't want it to ever happen again. And yet, somewhere deep down, I knew that his admitting he fucked guys, now part of the equation was going to make things a lot more complicated.
If only I knew how much it would change everything between us.