Chapter Text
“Good morning, Pierre!”
Pierre groans, stumbling blindly into the kitchen as his hands fumble across the countertop in search of the sink. There’s a soft giggle from a different part of the room, distinctly girly, but he can’t stand to crack his eyes open enough to face the light just yet, so the investigations will have to wait until a later point in time.
“Here you go,” that bright, annoying voice comes again and Pierre feels a glass being shoved into his right hand, a pill in the left. He doesn’t question it and gulps down both. When he finally feels human enough again to open his eyes, a familiar sight is greeting him.
“You really should not be drinking alcohol without hydrating, Pierre,” Yuki says, staring up at him with concern in his eyes. Behind him, a vaguely familiar girl sits at the kitchen table, waving a forkful of chocolate chip pancakes in his direction when she notices Pierre looking her way.
“I don’t know how you aren’t tired of saying the same thing every week,” Pierre sighs, sinking down into a seat. He rests his head on the table, letting the cool plastic soothe his headache.
Yuki begins bustling around in a panic, trying to get Pierre to sit back up straight. “You should not be so rude to your guest!” This is also another common phrase Pierre has heard once a week since the semester started. “I’m so sorry,” Yuki says, turning back to the girl with an apologetic smile. “Pierre is just not feeling well right now, but normally he is very kind and charismatic. Did you know that he is actually studying engineering? Pierre is also an incredibly smart man–”
“Oh my god ,” the girl squeals at a pitch Pierre absolutely cannot handle right now. “You are so cute!”
Before Pierre has to witness something wildly inappropriate, like her pinching Yuki’s cheeks, Pierre decides his headache has died enough that he can sneak in some extra z’s before his morning workout.
“Wait, Pierre, you did not have breakfast yet–”
The door is shut before Yuki can finish his nagging. More giggles and muffled conversation ensue. As usual.
–
If someone were to ask Pierre how his senior year was going at the beginning of the semester, he would have said, “ Splendidly.”
At least, for the first week. He had an extra large suite all to himself, meaning he could walk around naked and bring girls back to fuck in any one of three bedrooms without worrying about the giant, decidedly not-soundproof cracks at the bottom of each door. Fuck, they could even fuck on the couch with an NBA game playing. Best of both worlds, yeah?
All of that changed when he was informed he would be getting an unexpected (and unwelcome) roommate due to an overflow in the underclassmen dorms.
Enter Yuki Tsunoda, Japanese sophomore exchange student.
Now , Pierre was… well, he still walked around naked and brought girls back to the apartment. He just had to limit himself to two bedrooms instead of three. And no more basketball during sex, although he had to admit the odds of a girl walking out on him significantly decreased when the Lakers weren’t scoring while Pierre sucked on her tits.
Which was fine. While he was bummed to no longer have the suite to himself, he wasn’t that much of a dick about it. Until Yuki somehow got into his head that being forced into an unfortunate roommate situation together also meant being best friends.
“Charles,” Pierre groans, flopping across his friend’s couch. “Why couldn’t we have been roommates?”
“Because you forgot to fill out the roommate form on time. And you never do the dishes.”
Pierre glares at him from under his arm. “I don’t even cook? Why would I do dishes that aren’t mine?” Protein shakes don’t count. And sure, sometimes he leaves his bottles in the sink, but he really is just saving it for a later time. It’s not his fault if his roommate likes to use a billion pots and pans to whip up some ten thousand calorie meal that smells annoyingly delicious, and then also cleans Pierre’s days old pile of protein shakes with it.
“Oh, hello Pierre,” Carlos says as he walks in the room. Carlos is normal. So very normal. Why couldn’t Pierre get a normal roommate? “Where is your, ah, your Yuki?”
“ My Yuki?” Pierre asks. Carlos just stares blankly at him. Pierre sighs. “How would I know, he’s probably in class.”
“It is a weekend,” Carlos says. “And he follows you everywhere.”
And that. That exactly is the problem. As if on cue, his phone lights up with a call.
When Pierre ignores it for long enough the ringtone starts to bug Charles, he leans over and hits answer, putting it on speakerphone before chucking it back on the coffee table. “Hi, Yuki!”
There’s a pause, and then, “... Pierre?”
“This is Charles, but Pierre’s here, too.”
“Oh, Charles! You and Pierre must be hanging out!”
Yuki loves “hanging out”. Describes it as a distinctly Western phrase he’s always wanted the opportunity to use. Yuki describes just about everything they do as “hanging out” whether it’s taking the elevator up to their apartment together or Pierre taking his morning piss while Yuki brushes his teeth and sprays foam on the mirror by attempting to speak to him.
Pierre gives Charles a look and then motions his hand across his neck.
Charles just grins. “Yes, Yuki. We are hanging out, you should come join us.”
“ Really? ” Yuki asks, and the excitement creeps across the phone connection and shoves itself down Pierre’s throat so aggressively that he physically shudders.
–
This is how Pierre finds himself sat at Charles’s kitchen table across from Yuki, flipping through Instagram when he should really be doing his problem set due on Monday. Charles is lying on the couch, clearly not watching the movie he’s supposed to be watching for his film studies elective.
“Pierre,” Yuki says suddenly. His serious tone of voice actually makes Pierre pause, and look at him for longer than a second. Yuki actually has very nice skin, now that Pierre’s looking at it. He understands why the girls he brings home are always itching to pinch his cheeks. They do look, in fact, very pinchable. So do his lips. His lips, which are moving.
“Wait, sorry, what?” Pierre asks, shaking his head. Christ, why is he thinking about Yuki’s lips?
“I was saying, Pierre, I am very worried for you.”
“Worried?”
“You have been acting strange. I think you are heartbroken, Pierre, but you should know it is not your fault the girls do not like you after a week.” Charles makes a noise that sounds very much like a snort, and Pierre makes a mental note to give him shit later about crying for a week after he was rejected by Monica down the street when they were seven years old.
But back to the Yuki problem. What the fuck is this guy going on about?
Yuki ignores the confused stare Pierre is giving him and continues, “You are a very smart and handsome boy. Girls will love you, you just need a little work.”
Oh god. Pierre thinks he prefers Yuki who was trying to be his “bro” rather than this Yuki who is… eerily reminiscent of Pierre’s grandmother. Charles isn’t even trying to hide his laughter at this point, the bastard.
“But do not worry,” Yuki says, “I have a great plan. I will help you work on the things that are bad about you, okay? I’ve seen a lot in Western TV shows, a wingman.” There’s a certain way that Yuki says “wingman” in much the same way he emphasizes “hanging out” that makes Pierre suspect Yuki has a journal or diary somewhere with a glossary of “Western terms and concepts to try out” written down in neat handwriting. He probably scribbles little hearts all over the page.
“Uh, yeah, I think I’m okay, man.”
Yuki shakes his head, “Really, I am happy to help you! In fact, I think Vanessa was very happy this morning when I was telling her how awesome you are.”
Pierre blinks, staring blankly at Yuki for a moment. “Who’s Vanessa?”
Yuki sighs and puts his head in his hands.
Pierre almost feels bad for disappointing him. Almost. Probably because it feels like disappointing his grandma.