Chapter Text
Unlucky circumstances.
It was enough to change every single thing in his life: his friends, his family. Or maybe to find old acquiescence or trace a new destiny with new people. Okay, maybe that's a little too deep for now.
Because for now, he couldn't even find the right timing to open the damn door of the dorm room, the one he would live in for a few years with a roommate.
It was still a little early in the morning, but school had already begun anyway. So there shouldn't be anybody inside at this time.
But, what if…?
It was a perpetual Zanka fight; never knowing how to act with people, because being normal wasn’t an option.
Even if he copied everything from everyone around him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was fundamentally different from others. Maybe twice as much as your average guy because, of course, he had to be gay in addition to suffering from autism.
And it wasn't like he knew the person with whom he would be roommates; it surely wasn't very nice to show up totally unannounced, right? Did his roommate know he started today? And he didn't bring anything either; people were supposed to offer gifts on these kinds of occasions.
Probably.
Human interactions were so complicated, always needing to mind his words because people could be vexed at the slightest thing. He wondered if his roommate would be this kind of person; he had stressed over and over what kind of guy it would be. Hopefully not someone too sensitive.
Zanka remembered what the guy from earlier, the dorm rep, told him while showing him the dormitory—Follo his name was, a funny name for someone who was showing him around—and had told him that because he came later than everyone, he didn't really have a choice but to share the room of an upperclassman.
It wouldn't have been a bother if the dude didn't have the worst reputation around here; his room was used by only himself because he kept fighting with every new guy, among other troubles he caused. He didn't know much for now; rumors didn't interest him a lot in the first place, and he wasn't here to befriend other people, anyway.
Well, he would try his best, because he didn't want to be expelled from the university for fighting another guy; he could be a little impulsive sometimes, maybe getting angry at some minor inconvenience.
Zanka didn't have a choice but to change establishments; Enjin changed his sector, again, because as a cop, it could happen that he would change the city where he patrolled. It was a pain, honestly, but it could have been worse, and it would give him the chance to reunite with their childhood friend and Riyo's best friend, Eishia, who also studied here.
And he himself didn't have many friends, so he didn't care, really. But Riyo, Enjin's adopted daughter, was quite popular in her high school; he hoped the girl wouldn't be too depressed upon the sudden change. Unlike him, and as weird as the red-haired girl was, she had understood all the fundamentals to get on easily with people, so much so that he started to observe her at some point, her and Enjin. Well, Riyo probably copied Enjin herself in the first place anyway, but she did it with a lot more ease than him.
Well, Rudo would be there to keep her company, another teen Enjin adopted lately; despite how often he said that he hated children, this one was even more of a loner than him somehow, probably the weirdest kid ever.
But he liked them, his found family that accepted him. So he couldn't really make them worry too much.
Because Zanka still had a family, one he had deserted, he wasn't officially in Enjin’s family—more like roommate status—but he eventually chose to live in a dormitory. Firstly, because the house they rented wasn't that big and him leaving would permit Rudo to have his own room. And secondly, because he wanted to prove himself to Enjin; he couldn't always count on him for every little thing, as he was already an adult.
But he already hit the first difficulty: opening a damn door.
Zanka sighed before taking his keys, the ones he inserted into the doorknob before opening it lightly; they advised to lock the door at night and when there wouldn't be any of them in the room. A room of only two people, luckily for him, because the fewer, the better.
Maybe he should have knocked, after all…?
When he entered the room, he thought it looked pretty normal but pretty messy at the same time. It was the kind of room where there were two beds, two desks, some kind of storage, a bathroom at the end, and a small kitchen with a microwave and a small fridge. The bare necessities to study. It wouldn’t be difficult; he was already lucky to have a place to sleep after moving so suddenly. If sharing a room with some guy was the only condition to achieve his goal, he could do it.
But, oh boy, how messy it was.
There was only one window in the room, in the kitchen, but the shutter was closed with a blind on it, so he could only see a faint light coming from it, and the light didn’t seem to work for an obscure reason; it didn't work after trying so many times to flick the switch.
It was so dark he could only discern silhouettes on the beds—items piled up on them. Was the guy even living there? Maybe he was just using this room as storage and was crashing at another place. Well, it would work better if that were the case; he didn't really like people.
He tried to step between the different things on the floor—bags, clothes, a hairdryer…? —while trying to navigate with his own baggage before he finally let himself fall onto one of the beds, the one that seemed the least encumbered. But it was apparently a very bad idea because the bed wasn't exactly uninhabited.
“Oof!” he heard before trying to stand up, surprised to have heard the sound of a living being in such a messy place. There couldn't actually be someone behind this insane pile of clothes and things?!
As he was actually too shocked to do anything, he felt movement under him, a head popping out of the blanket, dreadlocks spilling on the pillow, “How long are you gonna sit on me? C'mon, get off!”
Zanka hastily got up, almost tripping while doing so because of all the things on the floor, while the man in the bed slowly sat up, yawning with all his might. Was whatever happened normal—some guy sleeping like the dead under a blanket and a pile of things, almost suffocating while doing so???
“Who're you?” The stranger he guessed was his roommate asked him, opening his tired eyes wider, looking suspiciously at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I'm yer new roommate,” he answered, trying to ignore how awkward the situation was. They hadn’t lied to him when they said the guy was weird.
His own eyes gradually grew more accustomed to the darkness of the room as he was looking at the person in front of him; a Black dude with a lighter skin tone—someone métis he guessed?—with insanely long dreadlocks and big magenta eyes and even bigger eye bags. Wait, how come he looked so tired despite just waking up?!
“Uh-uh. And do you own a full name or should I just keep calling you ‘new roommate’?” The man snorted, finally getting up off his own bed before standing in front of him, crouching slightly.
The dark-skinned man was slightly taller than him, he could tell even with how bad his posture was, easily over 180cm. Well, at least he had the decency of wearing some pajamas; he kind of feared that his roommate wouldn't care for privacy, which would have been rather difficult for him.
“Zanka.”
“No full name?” His grin grew wider, an amused expression on his face.
“Just Zanka,” he grumbled back. He didn't want to use his family name, and he was pretty sure they didn't want to have anything to do with him either.
“Okay, Just Zanka.” The man giggled. As he was about to throw some insults at this rude guy, he was surprised to see a hand extended in front of him. “Then, I’m Just Jabber. Nice to meetcha.”
His blue eyes widened a little before he hesitantly mimicked Jabber, his hand finding itself in the other's, shaking it lightly.
His hand was warm…
The other quickly let go of his hand, almost snapping it back—yet he was the first to present his hand—before scratching his neck, “Well, make yourself at home, I guess. I'm gonna just keep sleeping, don't wake me up,” he said while taking the blanket, the stuff on top of him falling down on the floor as he buried himself under it, turning his back to him.
“...”
Zanka kind of understood why Jabber wasn't popular with other roommates. Messy wasn't even the word to describe him. And weird, too.
Honestly, he didn't know how he managed to remove the stuff that was in his own bed without making too much noise, lighting the room with his smartphone flashlight; there was just so much stuff in there, it looked like Jabber never bothered to tidy up since he arrived.
Talking about tidying up, let's talk about how dirty the kitchen was; the sink had been blocked since he didn't know when—and he didn't want to know when—plates were piling up inside it. Luckily, there was stuff to clean with; Jabber didn't seem like the one who used it, so there was plenty of soap and cleaning liquid.
If he complained about the sink, he needed to let out his thoughts about the fridge, too; there were only beers and sauces in there, the ones you take from fast-food takeout but actually never use. And pizza. Pizza from he didn't know when, either. Scary stuff.
Zanka could understand that a student could be lazy; in his case, he was usually the one to clean at home. Everyone else didn't want to do any cleaning, so he was usually the one who did it; Rudo was too clumsy to even try, and Riyo always managed to flee somewhere when it was her turn to clean. And Enjin was actually a disaster who couldn't or didn't want to do a thing by himself. He started to worry about his found family; maybe he should see them from time to time just in case they were crawling under garbage.
But well, at least it was way neater now.
There was a lot of long hair in the bathroom, too, so much that it was a wonder that the shower wasn't blocked yet. It was a good thing he was already used to it because of Riyo; live with a long-haired girl and you're always bound to find hair everywhere, even in places you didn't think of.
He took care to leave his luggage on his bed after putting new sheets on it; it would certainly make noise to unpack his things right now and he didn't want to wake up the other, even if it was a miracle he didn't wake up after all he did. Cleaning actually took him the morning; he finally stepped out when he threw out the garbage, which was starting to accumulate, too.
And it was out of the question to live among it.
It was then he decided that it would be good to buy more stuff for cleaning; even if Jabber wasn't planning to tidy up, he himself was, and he wouldn't negotiate over that. A light, too—the kind where you could change the luminosity so as not to bother your roommate while studying until late at night, for example. Because he didn't know if he was allowed to change the light in his dorm without asking first.
So he was ready to go back to the dormitory. They had said to him that he didn't have to go to class the first day because he would probably be busy and they would understand. He planned to be a good student, though; he wouldn't let Enjin pay for his studies only for them to go to waste.
It was about noon when he pushed open the door of his room again, ready to see Jabber either not there or sleeping, who knows, but he was surprised to see him on his bed, bare-chested, with something in his mouth that was emanating smoke.
What.
They both stared at each other, eyes widened and mouths agape, to the point the thing he had in his mouth almost fell at the same time as the grocery bags, which made a small bang upon reaching the floor.
It wasn’t… nicotine, right?
As Enjin was a big smoker—somewhat less each time he adopted a new kid into his home—he definitely recognized that thing as not being the same as what he smoked.
Should he act like he hadn't seen anything? He was sure smoking in the dorms was unauthorized, even more so illegal substances; that stuff definitely looked dangerous.
When he was about to leave, turning his back to the other with his hand on the doorknob, he suddenly felt a presence behind him, a shadow surrounding him before the door was slammed shut.
Zanka was suddenly feeling very small; that guy who normally crouched while standing was now behind him, standing straight, and despite them being almost the same height, he was imposing.
“Wait. You're gonna tell?” a raspy voice asked him, a hand maintaining the door firmly closed, his arm above his shoulder.
He could feel Jabber’s warmth from his bare chest behind him, his long dreadlocks tickling his back. Shit, he was way too close!
Zanka faced the other man, gulping when he saw how close they actually were. “I ain't…”
He really didn't care about some stranger anyway; Jabber wasn't his friend and he wasn't about to lecture him for smoking he didn't know what. Besides, he hadn't even decided what to do with the information in the first place.
Even if his strong sense of justice and the fact that his idol was a policeman were strongly telling him that he should definitely tell someone.
Zanka flinched when the magenta eyes narrowed, his heart beating quicker as the other's face approached his, his cheeks warming slightly because of the proximity. What was with his almost non-existence of personal space…?
“...You sure of that?” Jabber asked him while crouching slightly to be at his level, his face right in front of him, making his heart skip a beat.
He instinctively closed his eyes; seriously, what was wrong with this guy?!
He was hella intimidating!
“What?” His eyes slowly opened when he heard an amused snort, the man’s eyes suddenly clearer as if he had just woken up, the effect of the drug maybe starting to wear off. “You thought I was gonna hit you?”
“Of course not!” the blond snapped back, annoyed to have nowhere to go, trapped by a half-naked Jabber whose face he was trying his best to look at.
Zanka felt like the tension was broken all of a sudden, as if the small change of expression was enough to change the atmosphere; he thought he would stop breathing earlier.
“But the way you closed your eyes, you definitely were expecting something…” The man’s expression changed again, apparently thinking hard given how he furrowed his split eyebrows.
In the meantime, he was becoming more and more uncomfortable with their position and proximity, warmth traversing his body; he didn't expect to become close like this to his roommate the second time they talked.
“Oh, I know! It was like you thought I was gonna kiss you or something!” Jabber finally said while giggling, happy to have found out the truth, which obviously wasn't!
“Ain't no way I’m kissin’ some guy as stinky as ya!” he snapped back, more and more red because, maybe, he had the slightest thought about it when the other suddenly closed the distance between them.
“Huh, so you're not against kissing a guy if they aren’t stinky?” The magenta eyes narrowed again, concentrating on his expression as he was trying to read his mind.
Crap.
“I am! I don't swin’ that way!” There wasn't much conviction in his words, but Zanka strongly hoped that it would suffice to fool Jabber’s foggy brain.
“Looks like someone is still inside the closet~” He heard mocking giggles as he closed his eyes, not knowing if he should punch the bastard on his first day or not.
“I’m not gay,” he repeated, faking annoyance as his heart was racing, his brain thinking hard to get out of this situation. Did this guy have a gaydar or some shit? He had talked to him like two times, and he was already onto him!
“So you don't mind me telling everyone you are, if you don't care?”
“Don't!” he nearly yelled while grabbing at the other's bare shoulder, panicking strongly.
“Oh? Ready to throw down, I see~” the dark-skinned man purred, visibly enjoying the situation.
What a damn asshole!
But shit. What should he do? Somehow convince Jabber not to tell everyone? Or should he keep feigning ignorance, which didn't work very well? He wasn't actually going to beg for this bastard…?
“Don't. Please,” he repeated, more docile, his eyes pleading. He couldn't afford for this information to get outside this room. Zanka didn't want to live that hell all over again.
Jabber’s expression suddenly changed, more calm as he took a step back, satisfied.
“Let's do that, then: I’m keeping your secret if you help keep mine~” The man started to talk again, apparently enjoying how it turned out because he was smiling brightly, the magenta in his eyes almost not visible anymore.
“Okay, sure.” Zanka was relieved; he wasn't planning to tell what he saw to anyone, really.
“But if I hear that someone knows, even if it wasn't you who told them, everyone will soon know you're the gayest dude on campus. How does that sound~” The man smirked maliciously as Zanka's heart seemed to stop again.
“Ya bastard,” he growled, thinking that he deserved a well-placed punch, after all.
“Perfect, then!” With that, Jabber started to laugh again before taking up his joint and resuming his smoking session, singing a little song while Zanka was still on the doorstep, wondering whom he had angered for such a thing to happen.