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“You’re sure your roommate won’t mind me being here?” Felix shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Because I can always stay at the hotel with my parents.”
Dorian grins as he unlocks his dorm room. “He said it was fine, Felix, really. I checked again this morning, because I knew you’d ask. I hardly ever see him anyway, he plays some sort of sport.”
“Oh,” Felix says. “Sport.”
“Shut up,” Dorian laughs. “It’s not like that. He’s far too Fereldan for me. And my roommate, besides. Sleeping with roommates is a terrible idea.”
Felix drops his bag and sits on Dorian’s bed. It’s messily made and covered in books, of course it’s Dorian’s. “What’s his name, anyways?”
“I just call him ‘hey, you left your socks on my chair again.’” Dorian tosses him a bottle of water and opens his laptop. “I have to finish typing up a lab report, it should only take a minute. I’ll show you around campus after? The unofficial tour.”
“No problem. Quiet sounds great right now.” He lies back on Dorian’s bed.
“Your father still doesn’t like the idea of you going to school down here in the barbaric south?” Dorian asks sympathetically.
“Not at all. I hope this trip convinces him.”
“I’m here, and he trusts me,” Dorian says absently, leafing through a book. “That’s one point in IU’s favor.”
“Two points.” Felix holds up his phone. “My admissions-appointed pen pal. Father loves him.”
“That’s right, the mysterious econ nerd who gives glowing recommendations of dining hall pizza.” Felix can barely understand him around the pen in his mouth. “I really need to work on this, Fee. Give me ten minutes.”
“Sure.” Felix looks around the room while Dorian mutters at his book. He could be living in a dorm just like this in a few months. It’s more exciting for him than it had been for Dorian, he thinks, who was familiar with boarding schools and summer camps. Felix’s recurring flare ups had kept him much closer to home.
Dorian’s room has a decent view over a quad, where students are studying and eating lunch. Felix knows there’s a river that runs near the campus, and walking paths with plenty of benches. Hopefully he’ll be able to tempt Dorian out into the sun at least once while he’s here.
While Dorian taps away at his laptop, Felix texts the only other person in Fereldan that he knows. “Knows” is actually a bit generous. Carver is the student the IU admissions department told him to text with questions about the school. He’d felt weird the first time he’d texted Carver, and needy the second, but they’ve become friends. He hopes.
He doesn’t expect a response, and doesn’t get one. Carver usually has pracice this time on Thursdays.
The room itself is a decent size, not too crowded even with two beds, dressers and desks. Dorian’s portion of wall is sparsely decorated compared to his roommate’s, which is cluttered with posters of bands and sports teams. The absent roommate’s desk is far neater than Dorian’s, though. He can see a schedule taped onto the desk itself, with blocks of color marking out portions of the day. Bright green shows up most often. Felix can appreciate a good schedule.
He waits until Dorian puts his book down with a sigh before sitting up. “Your roommate likes rugby,” he says casually. Dorian’s fond of telling him how annoying he finds it that his roommate plays any sport at all.
“Football, actually. I mean soccer, it’s soccer here.” Dorian’s nose wrinkles. “Fereldans.”
“Is he any good?”
“By some accounts.” He stands up. “His team might have a game today, actually. Do you want to go? See the campus, engage in some school spirit?”
Felix doesn't mind going. But Dorian seems far too eager. He squints suspiciously at his friend. “Who else is on the team?”
Dorian blushes, which Felix hasn’t seen him do since they were twelve. “No one,” he mutters, and yanks his closet door open.
Felix gasps dramatically. “Dorian, do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” he insists.
“You do!” Felix accuses. “You didn’t tell me!”
“I’m not-- we’re not dating or anything, just. I don’t know. Hooking up.”
“You’re hooking up with a guy on your roommate’s team.”
“No!” Dorian says again, louder. "I’m hooking up with a someone who lives with someone on my roommate’s soccer team. They have a house just off campus with, I don’t know, five other people?”
Felix stands up as well. “Well, I think watching a football game sounds great.”
Dorian glares, blushing again, then throws a green scarf at him. “It’s called soccer here, and it starts in ten minutes.”
“Go Inquisitors,” Felix says with a smirk.
--
He’s glad for the scarf, and the coat that Dorian lends him, by the time they’re actually at the pitch. Dorian’s bundled up in an oversize pullover, and he winds through the decent crowd of students with confidence.
Felix follows him to a knot of people near one of the teams. Everyone’s wearing at least one green piece of clothing, he sees, and belatedly remembers that green and black are IU’s colors.
“Which one’s your roommate?” He whispers.
“The keeper.” Dorian points. “That tall, surly-looking fellow in all green.”
He’s easy to spot among his teammates’ black uniforms. He’s also close to a head taller than everyone except the two vashoth who are on the field. Felix watches him talk seriously with a shorter player with a captain’s band on his arm. The captain claps him on the back after a minute, and they both grin.
Felix finds himself watching how the keeper’s shirt pulls over his shoulders when he stretches, and staring at the edge of a tattoo that shows on his bicep when he pushes his hair out of his eyes. He paces between the goalposts as he straps on a pair of gloves, and Felix admires the dexterity in his hands.
Dorian smirks at him, and he shrugs. He’s only human.
“He doesn’t look surly,” he says. “He looks focused.”
Dorian snorts. “That’s what I love about you, Felix, you always look for the best in people. Trust me, he’s a dumb jock. Pretty, yes, but still a jock.”
“Or maybe you’re an elitist prick,” Felix says mildly.
Dorian laughs, and waves at someone over by the team’s benches.
Felix watches him out of the corner of his eye when someone-- a tall vashoth in a green-and-pink striped shirt-- waves back. Dorian’s grin is blinding, and Felix smirks at him.
“Shut up,” Dorian mutters.
“Who, me?” Felix blinks innocently at him. “I’m not saying anything. I won’t say anything when you don’t introduce me to anyone who isn’t your boyfriend. Especially not about his shirt.”
Dorian blushes again, and places his hands on Felix’s shoulders. “I hate you,” he says, mock-serious, staring into Felix’s eyes.
Felix pats his cheek. “Love you too. If you’re very nice to me, I might enroll here next semester.” He knows he can’t make the decision based solely on how widely that makes Dorian smile, but his mind was mostly made up, anyways.
--
Intellectually, Felix knows they’re just running back and forth, kicking a ball. But he winces every time someone bounces the ball off their forehead, and cheers every time IU’s keeper blocks a shot. He soon finds himself jumping up and down on the sidelines with Bull, who isn’t Dorian’s boyfriend, while Dorian stands with his arms folded and a smile on his face.
Bull keeps up a running commentary. He knows every person on the team well enough to tell Felix an amusing story about them. Mostly he talks about the captain, Krem, and the goalie, Hawke, who’s a better keeper than either of his sisters but don’t tell Marian that.
Every time the ball is headed towards IU’s goal, Hawke is there to block it. He jumps higher than Felix thought was possible and at one point he throws the ball three-quarters the length of the field, straight to one of his teammates.
It's spectacular. Felix can’t remember a time he was so excited about something that had nothing to do with him.
“I might like soccer,” he tells Bull. “I hadn’t realized a game could be this exciting with only one goal scored.”
“They’re a great team,” Bull agrees. “Krem’s a good captain. And the goalie, Hawke, he’s improved a lot. I think this game might be a shutout.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Dorian asks with affected disinterest. “That means we win?”
“That means Felix is going to witness one of the craziest parties the Chargers have ever thrown,” says Bull. “And I’ll bet every person on that team is getting laid tonight. Especially the goalie.”
“Hawke?” Felix asks.
Bull nods. “I mean, we haven’t beat VR this badly in… ages. At anything. I’d suck his dick myself, but--” Dorian elbows him in the stomach. He doesn’t even flinch.
“But you’re busy tonight,” Dorian says.
“Yeah,” Bull says, grinning. “Sure am.”
Felix smirks pointedly at Dorian until he’s noticed. Dorian, head held high, insists they get coffee at a place called the Hang, and leads them away from the pitch. Felix’s phone buzzes in his pocket.
The Hang is covered in leftover Satinalia decorations, fake spiderwebs and all, and has some of the most comfortable chairs Felix has ever sat in. He meets Isabela and Dagna, who are both very friendly, in very different ways, and hears four different “real” stories about how Bull and Dorian met.
It’s not until he takes his phone out to check in with his father that he realizes he has a text from Carver.
you’re here! it says. you weren’t on the tour schedule today I checked I’m srry I missed you are you still on campus? my team won and we’re having a party at the charger’s house tonite. anyone can tell you where that is I’ll make sure you can get in. you should come we have to meet up
Felix is used to Carver’s loose adherence to punctuation, but it still takes him a moment to parse. But when he does, he kicks himself. He’d been at that game! And he’d been to busy admiring the keeper’s shoulders to even consider that Carver might be there too.
I’ll be there, he texts back. He’s already been invited, after all. He sends a smiley face, too, because he feels bad for ignoring him.
Carver sends back eight.
--
Dorian comes to dinner with Felix and his parents. It’s pleasant, even though Dorian keeps texting Bull under the table and Felix has to pretend that he isn’t running off to a frat party immediately after. He doesn’t think they’d approve.
They drop him and Dorian off in front of his dorm, and then Dorian has to change, and then so does Felix, apparently, and then they can go to the party.
“My roommate texted me,” Dorian says while they walk. “He’s probably staying at the Chargers’ tonight, so we don’t have to worry about him.”
Felix nods, distracted. Carver hasn’t texted him back.
“But maybe.” Dorian stretches the words out suspiciously. “You’d like to?”
It’s Felix’s turn to blush. “He’s tall,” he says.
“‘He’s tall,’” Dorian scoffs. “He’s obnoxious. He leaves his socks on my chair and listens to the Templars. He likes everything that comes out of the dining hall, even the cardboard-- excuse me, even the pizza.”
Felix laughs. “Have you ever gotten along with a roommate?”
“I would if they ever tried to get along with me. I don’t see why they don’t. I am a delight,” Dorian says archly. “But shockingly, we aren’t talking about me.”
“I’m only here for a couple of days, Dorian, you can’t seriously be trying to set me up with your roommate.”
“Maybe he’d be more tolerable,” is all that Dorian says. He points at a building they’re passing. “That’s the library. I hate it and I want to stay there forever.”
--
The party is loud. Felix should have expected it, really. Maybe he could have brought some earplugs. He lost Dorian early on, and now he’s wandering from room to room with no companion except a red plastic cup, looking for somewhere to sit down. It’s his third red plastic cup.
He’s texted Carver once, to say he was at the party. Now that meeting him seems almost inevitable, Felix is nervous. What are they going to talk about? Pizza?
He finds the back porch, somehow, and the cool air is wonderful after being trapped inside with so many people. The music is muffled when he closes the door behind him, and that’s a relief, too.
He sits down on the steps and pulls out a cigarette, after glancing around to see if Dorian’s hiding in the bushes. The last thing he needs is to get into an argument about health.
His phone buzzes. ur here? It’s Carver, grammar deteriorating somewhere in the house behind him. It buzzes again. where?
The door opens and someone says, “sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be out here?”
“No worries,” Felix says, breathing out smoke while he turns his phone over in his hands.
They sit down next to him.
“Quiet’s nice, sometimes,” Felix says.
“Yeah. Ton of people in there. You got a light?”
He texts back porch, to Carver, and turns to his new friend. It’s IU’s keeper, Dorian’s roommate, staring out at the Chargers’ tiny back garden with him. He hands over his lighter and tries to think of something to say.
The keeper, Hawke, flicks the lighter a few times. It doesn’t catch. “Fuck,” he mutters, aggravated. “Is it out?”
Felix shakes his head. “I got it at the airport this morning. Let me try?”
He lights it on the first try and Hawke laughs at himself before leaning over to light his cigarette.
“Hey,” Felix says awkwardly. “Good game.”
The keeper, Hawke, smiles tiredly and makes some sort of salute. “Thanks.”
“You, uh--” Felix clears his throat. “You threw the ball really far?”
Hawke laughs at him. “I’ve been practicing.” His smile isn’t unkind.
“It shows.”
They lapse into awkward silence. Felix watches out of the corner of his eye as Hawke smokes. His shoulders are even broader up close.
He looks over at Felix, who quickly looks away, hoping he hasn’t been caught staring.
“I saw you at the game,” Hawke says. “You know Dorian?”
“We’ve been friends since we were… six, I think?” Felix says. “I’m thinking about coming here next year.”
“More Vints,” Hawke says thoughtfully. “Not that that’s necessarily bad! Krem’s a Vint and he’s a great captain!”
“Relax,” Felix laughs. “Dorian’s not exactly… ambassador material, I know.”
“Well, I think you’re amb-ass-ador material, because you’re very diplomatic,” Hawke says, and winks.
Felix stares at him.
He groans loudly and tips his head back. “That-- that sounded way better in my head, Please forget I said anything.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Felix says, trying to console him.
Hawke scowls petulantly. “It’s not nice to lie.”
“Alright,” Felix agrees. “It was pretty awful.”
“I think I used up all my skills at everything during the game,” Hawke says. “I can’t light a lighter, I can’t flirt, I can’t even find someone when I’ve got his number and I know he’s at this party.”
“Who’re you looking for?” Felix asks. “I mean, I probably can’t help, since I only know five people on this campus, counting you.”
“Another Vint, actually. His name’s Felix, I’m supposed to show him around campus and answer his questions and I can’t even find him.” He sighs. “Can’t do anything right.”
“Actually,” Felix says.
“Like, how hard is it to text someone and say, ‘let’s meet in the kitchen at 10!’ Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You know,” Felix says.
“He’s probably gone by now because he doesn’t know anyone except his one friend from Tevinter and me, and he doesn’t even know me, we’ve only texted, why would he even stay at some random party I told him to come to--”
“Carver?” Felix tries.
“Yeah?” says Carver, still staring at his hands.
“I’m actually right here.”
“Oh,” says Carver. “Uh, hi. I’m-- please forget that I said anything about ambassadors because that was probably the exact opposite of how I wanted my first impression to go.”
“I don’t know, my first impression of you was being very tall and good at soccer.”
“Well.” Carver perks up a little, and Felix is glad to see him smile, even if it’s lopsided. “That’s good, then.”
“I thought so,” he agrees.
Carver blinks and clears his throat nervously. “Good,” he says again, and runs his hand over his hair. “Maker, I didn’t think you’d be--”
“Here tonight, I know.”
“I was going to say hot.” He shrugs and smiles a little wider, still crooked. Then he blushes and looks away, taking another drag of his cigarette.
Felix can’t help grinning. “It’s a bonus, I agree.”
Carver glances at him. “Really? Oh. You mean.” He clears his throat again, looking pleased.
Felix is by no means a champion flirt, but this seems to be going well. He shifts a bit closer on the stoop. “It’s kind of cold here, isn’t it?” he says.
“Not tonight,” Carver says. “I mean, it can be, sometimes-- oh! You’re cold. I’m sorry, do you want to go inside? And your drink’s empty, I can get you another. If you want.”
“No,” Felix says quickly. He’s glad Dorian’s not here, he’d never hear the end of this. “No, I don’t want to go inside.”
“Oh, I get it. Sorry.” Carver chuckles. “We’re both just really great at this, aren’t we?” He lifts his arm and Felix moves even closer, until he’s pressed against Carver’s side. He’s definitely not cold anymore.
“It’s not going completely wrong,” Felix says. “We’ll get there eventually.”
“Oh yeah? And where is ‘there,’ exactly?” Carver asks, mischievous.
“Your dorm room? I have it on good authority that your roommate will be elsewhere tonight.”
“That so?” a slow smile creeps over Carver’s face.
“You have seen him and Bull together, haven’t you?” Felix says. “Yes, your room’s completely empty.”
“Cool,” says Carver. “Awesome. You want to um-- I guess a campus tour in the dark doesn’t sound very good, does it?”
Felix leans towards Carver. “I’m sure you could make it interesting.”