Home Roommates With Benefits [BL] Chapter 59: I Am Running Out Of Excuses, This Is Looking Increasingly Gay

Roommates With Benefits [BL]

Chapter 59: I Am Running Out Of Excuses, This Is Looking Increasingly Gay
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Chapter 59: I Am Running Out Of Excuses, This Is Looking Increasingly Gay

•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•

They both looked at me, not with pity, I would’ve deflected that immediately and walked away from the conversation, but they looked at me with genuine attention.

"I mean..." I shrugged, searching for the right words. "Eventually, she’ll realize I’m not exactly what Hawthorne usually... produces."

Maya’s expression shifted slightly, understanding flickered across her face. Joey put down his cup, a serious undertone settling in.

"She’s from Callington Hall," I stated, no accusation there, just a fact. "Most people here have no idea what it’s really like. The real deal."

I gazed at the table. "My dad’s in the hospital. I’m juggling two jobs, half the time I’m doing mental math at the grocery store to see if I can buy both shampoo and food this week."

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "I don’t have much to offer someone whose biggest worry is picking a study abroad program."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind where two people choose their words carefully, fully aware of what had just been laid out.

Then Maya reached over and smacked my shoulder.

I stared at her. "What—"

"That was dumb," she replied honestly.

"That was rude—"

"I’m serious." She pointed at me, then reconsidered and just looked at me instead. "You are not your bank account, Oliver. You’re not your dad’s hospital bills or your grocery math or the differences between your dorm and hers. You’re more than that."

Joey nodded. "For once, she’s spot on."

Maya looked caught off guard. "Did you just—"

"Don’t make it weird."

She pressed her lips together, then both of them turned to me, wearing expressions that were a mix of frustration and a special kind of warmth reserved for people they’ve decided are worth the effort.

"You’re funny," Maya said.

"Debatable," Joey added.

"Joey."

"I said debatable. That means it’s possible."

"You’re hardworking," she continued, ignoring him. "You care about people. You’d hand over your last twenty bucks to someone who needs it without a second thought."

"A lot of people would do that." I pointed out.

"That’s beside the point."

"I’m just saying there should be a system—"

"Oliver."

I looked up, Joey, his energy dialed down to something genuine, revealed the person beneath the exuberance.

"You think you’re not enough because of money, and we get that schooling in a place like this would make you ten times more conscious of your bank account." he said. "But that’s not what people remember about you. That’s not what we remember."

The words landed in a place I didn’t expect.

I glanced at the table. The tension in my chest, the kind of low-key pressure I carried most of the time without even noticing..let up just a bit. Not gone, but eased, like a knot loosening when the tension finally gives way, allowing something that’s been wound too tight a little room to breathe.

Maya and Joey quickly launched into a back-and-forth about whose contribution had been more valuable, a conversation they had so naturally that it didn’t feel bitter, each convinced and cheerful, completely wrong about the other.

I sat there, listening, and despite everything...the sleepless night, the unanswered questions, the whole mess waiting for me back at Preston Hall, I could feel a smile creeping onto my face.

They were total idiots. Both of them. No question. But they were mine, and right now, that was more comforting than anything.

A few hours later, my shift ended, and I walked home through the early evening air, hands in pockets, my thoughts doing exactly what I knew they would.

The conversation replayed in my mind. Not every single word, just the part that mattered, the six words that had lodged themselves in my brain since last night, taking up space I hadn’t planned for.

She isn’t the one I want.

As I got closer to Preston Hall, a familiar feeling of nervousness settled in my chest. Which was ridiculous...I lived there. People don’t get nervous about going home, that’s not something well-adjusted adults do.

Apparently, I was not a well-adjusted adult.

Because I didn’t know if he’d be there, and that uncertainty felt heavier than either outcome would’ve. Worse than coming home to Damien sitting at a laptop, calm and collected, acting like last night hadn’t happened. Even worse than facing an empty apartment.

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets.

Joey and Maya were wrong. Obviously. They were working with partial information and their own brand of overactive romantic interpretations, reaching conclusions that simply didn’t hold up under scrutiny.

I didn’t like Damien, I certainly wasn’t thinking about him constantly.

I wasn’t replaying every conversation we’d had over the past three weeks with an obsessive level of detail, trying to map out something I couldn’t quite name.

And I was absolutely not walking home a little faster than usual because a part of me, acting on sheer instinct, just wanted to find out if he was there.

None of that was happening.

I sighed, I was just temporarily insane. It happens to the best of us.

That was the only explanation. Stress-induced, situationally specific, entirely temporary insanity, which I’d recover from once everything settled down into some sensible direction.

I almost believed it.

Because it was easier to believe that, than accept that me, a guy who’s only ever been attracted to girls, money and food would suddenly like my dumbass roommate who goes around thinking he’s hot shit.

But he is hot though...the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen, I couldn’t deny that.

For some reason, I let myself wonder what it’ll feel like to date a guy. Was it the same as dating a girl? Was the attraction between those couples similar to the dislike I felt towards Damien? Did I even truly dislike Damien?

The building came into sight, warm lights glowing in the upper windows, the familiar stone exterior just as it always was.

I kept walking toward it.

Not because I was hoping for anything.

Just because it was home, for now. Because when my dorm was fixed, I’d have to go back to the place made for people like me. And I’d have to leave and out all of these confusion behind me and keep moving forward with my life until it gets better.

I tried not to think about how strange I felt about leaving Damien instead of feeling as delighted, as I would have weeks ago.

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