Roommates With Benefits [BL]

By lunchtime, I’d already checked my phone way too many times, not that I was counting or anything.

Alright, fine...shit, I definitely was, like some obsessive guy keeping score in a game only he’s playing. The soft glow of the screen turned into this little addictive habit, every time I unlocked it bringing a flicker of hope that faded almost instantly.

I guess I had somehow turned into a specimen known as ’clingy boyfriend’.

Not that Damien and I were boyfriends or anything...!

Oh who was I even kidding at this rate...

The flower shop had closed an hour ago, and now I was halfway through my shift at Joy’s Café, trying to look busy by wiping down the espresso machine for the third time, all the while wishing my phone would buzz again with a text from him.

Damien had actually texted me earlier that morning.

Damien😈: Good morning.

Me: Morning.

Damien😈: Don’t forget breakfast.

That felt less like a suggestion and more like a direct order...like some royal decree. I could almost hear the authority in the tone he used when he was trying really hard not to sound worried.

Of course, I shot back with:

Me: I thought I told you to stop telling me what to do, man.

Me: But okay I guess.

And he just reacted with a thumbs-up emoji.

A thumbs-up! The guy who could make someone go broke with just a look sent me a thumbs-up.

I spent five whole minutes debating whether that meant he was amused or annoyed before admitting to myself that I’d completely lost it, standing behind the counter and analyzing a single emoji like it was some secret code.

The little yellow icon sat on my screen, completely unhelpful but somehow managed to grab way too much of my attention.

I considered sending him a middle finger emoji in response to see how he liked it.

”...Oliver.”

I blinked. That voice cut through the café’s low background chatter like a spotlight.

”...Oliver.”

”Huh?”

Maya waved her hand in front of my face, snapping her fingers close enough that I flinched. The sudden motion made me sit up so fast the cloth I was holding nearly slipped from my fingers.

”You’ve been staring at that phone like it owes you money.”

”I was just thinking.”

”You looked kinda possessed.”

”Is it funny that I get that a lot?”

She snorted and dropped into the chair across from me, with the kind of limp confidence that comes from someone who’s already done a shift and has no energy left for pleasantries.

The chair scraped against the floor as she settled in, elbows resting on the table, casually waiting for the rest of the day to catch up.

The café was weirdly quiet for a Saturday afternoon.

A few students huddled in booths by the windows, bent over laptops with that distinct panic of deadline pressure; a couple shared a piece of cheesecake in the corner, and soft jazz floated through the speakers, trying to convince everyone that the world was somehow more peaceful than it really was.

The warm afternoon light slanted across the wooden tables, catching the faint steam rising from half-finished cups of coffee.

Joey joined us a moment later, balancing three muffins on one plate, navigating the tables like a man on a mission.

The plate wobbled slightly with each step, but he deftly maneuvered through the narrow spaces between chairs like he’d done this exact operation a million times before.

”I brought emergency carbs!”

”I wasn’t aware we were in danger.”

”We’re always in danger.”

He placed a muffin in front of me like a doctor giving a diagnosis. The soft, golden surface looked almost too cheerful amid the otherwise muted afternoon.

”You especially.”

I poked at it, then stared some more, hoping the scrutiny would reveal whatever crisis Joey thought this muffin was supposed to fix. The slight give of the soft top under my fingertip didn’t explain the concern directed at me.

Joey shared a glance with Maya and leaned in toward her, lowering his voice just enough to be conspicuous. The exaggerated whisper carried across the small gap between them.

”What’s wrong with him?”

Maya sighed, pretending to sympathize, pressing a hand to her chest. The move was pure theater, complete with a slight tilt of her head for maximum effect.

”Poor thing.”

”What?”

”His husband went home for the weekend and now he’s depressed.”

Joey gasped, clutching at his invisible pearls. The sound was so over-the-top it almost made me smile despite myself. ”Oh no!”

”Mhmm, he misses him.”

”So tragic!”

I looked up slowly. ”He can also hear you fuckers.”

My voice came out flatter than intended, but they just looked even more delighted.

They smiled innocently, both wearing expressions of feigned sincerity that were anything but. Maya’s eyes sparkled with the joy of someone who just managed to get under someone else’s skin.

”We know,” Maya said.

”We wanted you to.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my own brain. The motion didn’t discourage either of them.

”I don’t miss him...that much.”

Maya raised an eyebrow. The skeptical arch of it said more than any full sentence could have.

”You’ve been checking your phone every five minutes.”

”I have not.”

”Bitch, please! You literally just unlocked it while denying that.”

I glanced down. My phone was indeed unlocked. Curse it! The blue light of the screen glowed up at me like a traitorous witness.

”I was just checking the time.”

”You wear a watch.”

”...Shut up.”

Maya laughed into her coffee, nearly choking on it. A small cough escaped her as she tried to recover, one hand hovering near her mouth.

”So,” she asked, resting her chin on her palm, ”why did Prince Charming disappear anyway?”

The way she looked at me made it clear she was ready to collect details for later commentary.

I shrugged. ”Family stuff.”

”What kind of family stuff?”

”The kind that apparently needs airplanes.”

Joey nodded knowingly, tearing off a piece of his muffin. Crumbs scattered across the table like a small, uneven constellation.

”Rich people problems.”

”I don’t get rich people,” I said.

”You live with one.”

”I still don’t get rich people.”

”They’re like normal people,” Joey said thoughtfully, ”except they have yachts.” He gestured vaguely with his muffin as if the concept of yachts needed a visual aid.

”And emotional repression,” Maya added.

”And trust funds.”

”And pricey therapy.”

”I don’t think they believe in therapy.”

”See?” Joey pointed at me with his muffin, scattering crumbs everywhere.

”Emotional repression.” A few crumbs landed near my elbow, and he didn’t make any move to clean them up.

I couldn’t help but smile, just a bit. Joey looked so pleased with himself that I figured he deserved it. The small, unwilling curve of my mouth seemed to satisfy him more than any verbal agreement could have.

Just as I reached for my coffee, the bell above the café door chimed, bright and cheerful, blissfully unaware that it was about to complicate my afternoon. The soft brass sound cut through the low jazz and the quiet murmur of conversation.

I looked up instinctively. Jeremy.

Well, there went my peaceful afternoon. The atmosphere in the café shifted the moment he stepped inside, like the air had suddenly decided to get a bit more complicated.

He spotted me almost immediately and smiled, that easy, confident smile that felt genuine instead of forced, the kind that probably worked on ninety percent of the population and clearly wasn’t going to stop trying on the rest.

The soft afternoon light from the windows caught in his hair as he walked across the floor.

He strolled over to the counter, his steps casual, suggesting he had nowhere more important to be.

”Afternoon, Professor.”

I chuckled despite myself.

”I thought I graduated from being your professor.” The old nickname still felt a little familiar and slightly embarrassing.

”You’ll always be my favorite one.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I could practically feel Maya’s eyes drilling into the back of my head, loaded with all the commentary she was holding back. The warmth on my face felt way more noticeable than it had any right to be.

I cleared my throat. The sound did nothing to cool the flush on my face.

”So... what can I get you?”

”A large caramel latte.”

”That’s surprisingly normal.”

He laughed, an easy, carefree sound that settled between us without any of the usual tension around Damien’s friends.

”You look tired.” he commented. Jeremy’s teasing edge faded for a moment, a subtle shift that felt more caring..”You okay?”

”Yeah.” I lied without thinking. ”Just... didn’t sleep well.”

The words rolled off my tongue smoother than they should have, practiced like all small, convenient lies eventually become.

His eyes searched mine for a moment before he nodded, appearing to decide not to press further. The quiet assessment lasted only a few seconds, but it felt thorough enough that I was glad when he looked away.

”I won’t pry.”

”Thanks.”

”Oh, but I will remind you.”

I blinked.

”Remind me what?” The sudden change threw me off balance for a second.

”You promised me lunch.”

”...Did I?”

”You absolutely did.”

”I feel like I was tricked into agreeing to that.”

”You offered.”

”I was feeling generous.”

”I’m collecting.”

I let out a dramatic sigh, dragging my hand down my face for effect. The gesture felt appropriately theatrical for the moment, even if part of me already knew I shouldn’t resist.

”You really don’t take a hint, do you?”

”Nope.”

I glanced at the clock, calculating how much longer I had to stall. The second hand moved with an indifference that refused to slow down just because I wanted it to.

”I finish in about an hour.”