Chapter Text
Eric slams his books onto his desk before kicking his dirty clothes towards the foot of his bed, huffing. His roommate, Juyeon, pulls off his headphones.
"Thought you were headed to the study rooms?"
Eric pouts harder. "I thought I was too. Except that guy is there. Again."
Juyeon laughs, turning back to his laptop, "What made you think your favorite room would always be available just for you?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that it literally has been every day for the last two months?"
Juyeon's already got his headphones back on, not even pretending to listen. Eric flops onto his bed, groaning. He would not lose again tomorrow. He wouldn't.
Study room G was the overlooked gem of this building. Most people opted for C, because it was larger, and had more windows, but only Eric knew the power G held, with its strategically placed outlets, the most cushioned rolling chair, and the only non-wobbly desk that could still be moved with minimal effort. Study room G was perfect, and only Eric knew and appreciated its perfection, is what he thought until yesterday when he'd returned from a grueling algorithms lecture to find a skinny little Asian boy wearing the hoodie Eric had been meaning to buy and also the shoes and the headphones actually and let's be real, even his backpack—he was getting sidetracked. He returned from a grueling algorithms lecture to find a skinny little Asian boy (who, let's face it, wasn't that skinny or little, even) sitting in G, leaned back in his chair and pondering something as he stared at the ceiling, spinning a pen absentmindedly. Very skillful pen spinning, he had begrudgingly noticed today as well. A skill Eric had repeatedly tried and failed to master.
His skin prickled with hatred. G was for hunching over in shitty posture and absolutely locking the fuck in. Not whatever that fucker was doing. That guy wasn't even using the place with respect, the way it was meant to be utilized. Infuriating. Tomorrow, Eric will get there first. He will win. He has to. Discrete ends 10:00 AM and he will literally skip eating a full proper breakfast in favor of rushing to the rooms. Gripped with this determination, he cooks up some rice, scarfs it down with the sides Juyeon's mom sent for both of them, and packs himself into his bed.
Tomorrow welcomes him with EXO's Growl blasting from his phone at precisely 7 AM. Eric arrives at Discrete at 7:57. He's on the bus back at 10:05. He's on the study floor at 10:25. He's standing in front of G at 10:26 AM, and every single study room is empty, but there, inside G, is that boy. Not leaned back in his chair, not staring at the ceiling, not spinning his pen, not even scrolling TikTok on his phone. No, he's fucking napping.
Eric is at his wits end. It's like this situation was designed precisely to make him lose it, and boy is he about to lose it. He has half—no, three quarters of a mind to go in there and wake up the fucker but he takes several deep breaths, counts to 10, and spins on his heel to go and occupy C. It's just a study room, he tells himself, and he can do good work in any room. He can do good work in C, in J, in A, hell he could probably do good work on the floor of the building lobby, but irritation dances across him nonetheless, and he only finishes about three quarters of the work he would've done in G.
He's trying to maintain his composure as he scarfs down a lunch with Juyeon at the dining hall later that afternoon when Juyeon makes the mistake of initiating small talk. "How's your day been going?" is all it takes to get Eric fired up.
"Like, who the fuck is in the study rooms that early?"
"You are." Juyeon deadpans, unhinging his jaw like a freak to take a freakishly massive bite of his sandwich. Freak.
"Point. But, why to nap? Why that room if you're just gonna nap?"
"You're going to pop a vein at this rate."
"I'm going to pop your veins."
"Misdirected. Go pop that guy's veins." Not once has Juyeon taken his eyes off his sandwich. Eric sighs, pondering this course of action.
Juyeon finally looks up. "Don't pop his veins, the fuck? Just ask him if you can join him in the room. There's two chairs, no?"
There are, in fact, two chairs in G. "Ew. I don't want to study with him. Ew!"
"Alright, suit yourself, buddy." Juyeon turns back to his plate, now focusing his attention on attacking the fries.
Eric sighs once more, pondering this new course of action. Juyeon, unknown to him, has noticed his gears turning and can't help but crack a small smile at this.
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Just like Monday, Eric hauls his ass to the study floor after yet another grueling Algos lecture, and just like Monday, there's the dude with impeccable drip. Impeccable to Eric, at least, as in he would save this guy's outfit pictures to a pinterest board for fashion inspo if he was a pinterest using fashion person—but that was beside the point.
The point is that he was there, and he was, surprisingly, using the less cushioned of the two chairs. Every other study room is occupied. Eric brings a hand up to tug his earlobe, thinking. Thinking very hard. Like, really hard.
Finally, heart beating in his throat, he brings a sweaty palm to turn the door handle and peek inside. The guy is so focused on his screen he doesn't even see him, or hear him, because of the really nice noise canceling headphones he's wearing that are also currently sitting in Eric's online shopping cart. He takes a deep breath and lets out a squeaky, "Excuse me?"
The guy jolts, turning around and pulling off his headphones. And then he just blinks in confusion. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but is it alright if I share this room with you? All the other ones are full, so." He stops there, not knowing what else to say. He's been told he rambles.
The guy blinks again. "Will you be quiet?"
"Oh, yeah! Just gonna grind on a problem set. In silence."
The guy shrugs, moving his laptop and chair to make space for Eric at the desk, "Sounds good then."
Eric can't hold back his smile, "Thanks man, for real." He dumps his stuff at the other end of the table. Juyeon is a fucking genius. He can't believe it.
Except, he quickly realizes it's way better to have the desk fully to himself, because there's way more space to spread all his papers and notebooks out. And also, he feels weirdly self conscious studying next to this guy. Eric tries to ignore him, he really does, but his limbs feel stiff and awkward and he feels like he's always breathing too loud and it takes a considerable amount of effort to keep his eyes firmly on his work. It's been three hours and the guy has gone from occasional typing to watching his screen with an intense focus. Eric had completed only half of the work he would've done if he'd had the room to himself. A real bust.
His phone tells him it's 8:00 PM. Has this guy even eaten dinner?
Well, it wasn't his problem. He gathers his things, making the guy look up. They exchange a curt nod, a silent acknowledgement, and Eric heads out. As he shovels pasta into his mouth at 8:30 PM, however, he can't help but wonder about that guy, and his dinner.