Roommates With Benefits [BL]

The name landed like a weight between them.

”I expected a scholarship student who’d tread carefully around us, someone appropriately humble. Aware of the social distance.” Jeremy laughed lightly, genuine and soft. ”I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

He shook his head, something like affection crossing his face.

”He scolds me, all the time. ’Jeremy, were you even listening?’ ’Jeremy, I just explained this twice.’ ’Jeremy, if you fucking fail this quiz after everything we’ve covered, I’m going to lose actual sleep over it.’”

He paused, grinning. ”He told me my studying strategy was ’structurally unsound’ and that I had the academic discipline of someone unaccustomed to living without daddy’s trust fund.”

Despite everything, a hint of a smile crept to the corner of Damien’s mouth. He quickly suppressed it.

That sounded like Oliver alright.

”He’s right, by the way,” Jeremy said. ”About all of it.”

”That’s not the issue.”

”No.” Jeremy met his gaze, steady. ”The point is he is pretty bold for someone for his position.” He said it matter-of-factly, without pity, just a straightforward acknowledgment of a life he’d known for as long as he could remember.

”He doesn’t care about the name. He doesn’t change what he says based on who I am. He challenges me, calls me out, and then moves on like it’s nothing.”

A pause. ”That’s pretty hot of you ask me. I’ve never met someone who’s the perfect mix of hot and cute before.”

The hallway felt very still.

‎Jeremy’s words ignited the fire of Damien’s possessiveness, painting vivid images of Jeremy’s easy smiles directed at Oliver, the casual lunch suggested in those texts, and how Jeremy might be pulling Oliver into his world with that disarming charm.

Damien’s hands clenched at his sides, the urge to punch the smug look off Jeremy’s face rising, but he restrained himself, his voice turning into a dangerous whisper.

”You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

‎

”Somewhere along the way,” Jeremy said almost dreamily, ”I stopped pretending the tutoring was the reason I kept booking sessions.”

Damien stayed silent.

”I really like him.” Jeremy stated it plainly, without artifice. ”I didn’t plan to. It... just happened. I wasn’t expecting to like him so quickly, but I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve. So I’ll just shoot my shot.”

He shrugged, the lightness in his demeanor vanished. ”I’m thinking of really asking him out, you know...after he gets more comfortable with me around.”

”You won’t.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. ”Won’t I?”

”You’ve made your intentions clear,” Damien said. ”And I’m telling you to stop.”

”Interesting.”

”What is?”

”The fact that you’re asking.”

That was the breaking point. Damien moved fast, grabbing Jeremy by the collar and pinning him against the wall.

The fabric bunched under his grip, and for a moment, the opulent sounds of the gathering faded into the background, leaving only the tension crackling between them.

Jeremy didn’t back down like how others would react around Damien or fight; instead, he met Damien’s glare with calm defiance, though his breathing quickened slightly.

Damien closed the gap between them in a single step. Jeremy’s back met the wall with a faint but firm sound, and Damien’s hand rested beside his shoulder, carefully placed as if he’d thought this through and wasn’t acting out of impulse.

Jeremy glanced at the hand beside him, then up at Damien’s face. His expression was composed, not afraid, because Jeremy Abernathy wasn’t easily frightened...but attentive in a way it hadn’t been just a minute before. ”Awwn, feeling possessive?”

It seemed this guy had a serious deathwish.

”Stay away from Oliver,” Damien growled, his voice low and threatening, each word laced with raw intensity. ”He’s not your tutor, he’s not your friend or someone you can have. He’s mine.”

‎

”I see.” Jeremy’s gaze held steady. ”And if I told you I meant it when I said I liked him? That it’s not about mere curiosity anymore?”

”Then I’d tell you that it doesn’t matter.”

They locked eyes, neither one blinking first. Outside, the gala carried on, music, chatter, the distant sound of a toast being made.

Jeremy sighed finally, and something shifted within his stance, the relaxed composure giving way to something more real, more human. ”You really care about him.”

”Yes.”

The hallway seemed to hold its breath in the silence that followed. Eventually, Jeremy scoffed, a sound carrying both amusement and challenge.

As Damien released him and turned to leave, Jeremy’s voice called out, stopping him in his tracks.

‎

‎”He’s yours? Aren’t you being a bit selfish, Lockwood? Getting an innocent guy like Oliver to like you when you know full well your family would never accept you two together?”

Damien’s hands tightened into fists as Jeremy went on.

At least my family is cool with it, they couldn’t care any less about class differences or my sexuality. Unlike your parents, they actually want me to be happy.

The hallway felt very quiet.

”If you truly do care for him,” Jeremy said, and it was just a plain fact, not dramatic... ”can you honestly promise he won’t get hurt because of what comes with being in our world?”

For the first time that night, Damien didn’t have a quick answer.

Oliver’s face flashed through his mind without warning. Oliver in the kitchen, burning the dinner and blaming him for the distraction.

Oliver bringing home blue flowers with a sheepish demeanor because they reminded him of Damien, unsure if the gesture would be appreciated, then watching Damien arrange them in a vase like they were something special.

Oliver curled up against him, stolen blanket in hand, one side of his face leaning against Damien’s shoulder. Oliver quietly sharing that he’d talked to his dad about Damien. That he wanted them to meet.

Jeremy observed the conflict play out on Damien’s face, patient as someone who already knew what he was looking for and had found it.

”I figured,” he said softly.

‎Damien turned back slowly, his expression cold and unyielding. ”If I see you near him again, the rivalry between our families will be the least of your worries.”

His voice carried the quiet promise of consequences that he would never regret, no matter the fallout. Then he walked away without another look, leaving Jeremy in the hallway with a thoughtful, slightly unsettled expression

The gala continued on, just as it had before... music, champagne, conversations about mergers, marriages, and polished reputations.

Damien moved through the edges of it without pausing, retrieved his coat from the cloakroom, and stepped out into the crisp autumn air.

His phone buzzed.

Oliver💘: Are you surviving your boring rich people party?

Damien stood at the venue steps, the cool autumn night enveloping him while the sounds of the gala fadepqd behind the closed doors, gazing at the messages.

He typed back instinctively.

Damien: Nope, leaving now.

As he tucked his phone away and walked toward the car, Jeremy’s question lingered in his mind, not as a threat or challenge, but like something that had been true for a while and simply awaited the right moment to surface.

Can you honestly promise he won’t get hurt?

For all his poise, he hadn’t been able to answer.

That was the thought that would keep him up tonight.

Not because Jeremy had unsettled him or because he was worried about Jeremy’s intentions.

It was because somewhere beneath the evening’s performance, Jeremy had pinpointed the very thing Damien had been carrying all along, the conflict between what he felt and what his family would eventually demand of him.

He made his way through the autumn night toward home.

Oliver would be there, with his leftover dinner, limited-time-offer kindness, stolen blankets, and blue flowers.

Whatever obstacles lay ahead... Damien would navigate them. Carefully, comprehensively, one step at a time. He had always been patient when it mattered.

He was now starting to realize that this mattered more than anything he had been patient about before.