This Is Home Now / Soak in the Moonlight

—Lazuli—

“Since ya were 16? Really?” asks Dex as he, Serge, and I walk along one of the paths in Hyde Park.

“Yeah, well, dad figured it would probably be easier on me than moving across the country back to Oregon with him. Mom was out of the picture by then and all my friends, my whole life basically was in New York. So I got a job at a restaurant, kept going to school, dad and my aunt helped out when they could but yeah, I’ve basically been taking care of myself since I was 16.”

“Mental,” says Serge. I shrug.

“It was fine for me, neither of my parents were really there if you know what I mean. Dad was always working, making time for his students, mom was in and out of rehab. Honestly the chefs at the restaurant were more like family to me after that. That’s partly why I got this tattoo.” I gently rub the blue diamond sleeve tattoo on my left arm. “Those chefs had the most beautiful tattoos and were some of the kindest and most angry guys I’ve ever met. One especially, his name was Liam, was like a big brother to me. He taught me how to cook, though I’m not really good at it.” I let out a soft chuckle. “It was actually thanks to him I could get this tattoo at all, he pretended to be my dad and gave them permission. I think… maybe it was because of him that I started to question myself.”

“Ye don’t have to explain owt if ya don’t want to,” says Dex. Serge takes his hand as we continue to walk. “Ye said you’re here to learn about yerself too, take yer time.”

“Yeah, I know…. Thanks. You two have been great. Helping me get settled in, showing me where I can shop and everything, helping me get used to the Underground, although it’s not really all that different from the subway. And especially helping me figure the campus out, it’s a lot bigger than I was expecting.”

“Well it’s a bit broken up so it’s not quite as grand as it may seem,” says Dex. “I reckon Stone Hall is th’ furthest north part o’ th’ official campus but it’s also part o’ Hyde Park. It’s nice bein’ out here surrounded by th’ greenery, but fer some reason not a lot of students fancy it. Royal Albert Hall ain’t officially part of the school, but it’s affiliated, same with the Natural History Museum and the Victoria an’ Albert Museum. The Institute puts a lot of resources into the arts.”

“They should pump more into sport as well, ye know,” says Serge. I catch out of the corner of my eye Dex squeezing Serge’s hand, and he visibly relaxes.

“Aye, afore ya knows it, football season’ll be here and then ya can get back on pitch,” says the smaller.

“Do ye play?” asks Serge?

“Football? Nah it always seemed too violent for me. All those guys ramming into each other? Not really for me.” Serge is looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head or something, and then I realise. “Oh! Right, football is a different thing here, sorry. Uhm… well I was on a little league soccer team a long time ago but I wasn’t really coordinated enough to kick the ball where it needed to go.” And then something connects in my head. “Wait, did you say ‘Institute’?”

“Did I?” asks Dex, “I meant University. Dealin’ with th’ faculty does me head in sometimes an’ I say daft things.” It seems like he’s suddenly walking even closer to Serge. I don’t know why that specific word stuck out to me. I shake the thought from my head.

“So how did our house end up here in the Park?”

“Oh! That’s actually a right interestin’ question,” Dex responds. “I dunno. I’m not a bloody encyclopaedia, am I?” He burst out laughing. “Mate, I dunno everythin’, I’m about yer age, right? Tha’s a question for the folks in charge, not me. Me I just try and keep me house in order. Speakin’ on that…. Yer’ve had a few days to settle in now, how are ya findin’ it?”

“It’s still a lot of culture shock I think. It’s like New York, but also very different. I’m thankful that the two of you have been here to help me figure things out. And I’m sorry if I’ve been taking up all your time.” They both laugh a little.

“Yer right, no need to fret,” says Dex.

“Aye, ye’ve been a right craic to be around,” says Serge. “I’m sure there’s plenty ye can show us that’s not from ‘round here, like. Once footy kicks off though I’ll likely be out a fair bit, so it might just be the two of ye.”

“Aww,” I say, putting on my best puppy dog eyes. “I was actually wondering if you might want to do like a movie night or something every now and then once my DVDs get here.”

“Ah aye, that’d be ace,” says Dex. “It’ll depend on our schedules though, specially mine ‘cause in a few days th’ other students are gonna show up fer our welcome mixer, and then yer no longer me favourite child.” He laughs softly.

“Just like my real life, ha ha,” I say sarcastically. Well, half sarcastically, hard to compete with work for “favourite child”.

“Ye shouldn’t be doin’ that,” says Serge. I stop walking, totally taken aback, what’d I do?

“Huh?”

“The whole self-deprecatin’ humour thing. Ye might think it’s only yerself havin’ a laugh, but truth be told it just ends up makin’ yerself feel worse, no matter what ye say.” The two of them stop a few steps ahead when they realise I’m no longer walking with them.

“Ya right there mate?” asks Dex.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I guess I never really considered that.”

“Don’t fret over it, we all have moments when we feel down about ourselves, but makin’ yerself feel worse isn’t a good defence,” says Serge. “Trust me on that.” He lets go of Dex’s hand to rub his wrist, seemingly absentmindedly. Dex gently grabs onto his arm just above the elbow and pulls him close. I feel bad, like I’ve just reminded them of something terrible.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to….”

“Nae bother, just a bad memory, that’s all,” says Serge, shaking his head and whole upper body. He firmly grabs Dex’s hand and I can feel a sense of… what? Comfort? Relief? Strength? Or some combination coming from him now. There’s more to it than what he’s said, but it’s none of my business. Besides, what he said has given me a lot to think about in my own life. We start walking again, the pathway narrows out up ahead as the trees close in nearer to Stone Hall.

“So will I be getting a roommate?”

“Aye, of course, house is fully booked this term,” says Dex. He pulls out his phone and quickly swipes through it. “Yours were a late admission though, which is a bit peculiar.”

“Huh?”

“Well usually th’ Accommodation office lets me know who’s gonna be in th’ house during summer, but yer roommate was only admitted last week. Not sure what that’s about, all I’ve been given is his name.”

“Oh, so what is it?”

“Well I reckon since he’s gonna be yer roomie there’s no harm. Raphael Valentine. And tha’s all I know about him. Ah wait a tick, this email does have a little bit more….” He doesn’t continue.

“You okay?” Both Dex and Serge have stopped walking again, both looking at his phone and exchanging glances.

“Erm, aye, soz mate, it’s just that one of me old professors nominated him, Doctor Seymour Angalis, caught me off is all.” He shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Weird day innit?” I haven’t known them for much more than a week but even this shift seems extreme. But, also, maybe it’s just me being nosy. Dex’s life and his history are not my business, same for Serge. I need to focus on myself and my own future and not worry about… well I’ve always worried about my friends.

“Ye should come along to the football tryouts,” says Serge. Like, what? “I mean, I get if sport isn’t exactly yer cuppa tea but… maybe the camaraderie could do ye some good, ken? Who knows if ye dinnae give it a go, eh?” And he’s not wrong, I guess I haven’t really done anything after that one horrible first childhood experience. So I guess that’s two things I need to think about today. I shake my head.

“Yeah, maybe. I’m still kinda in recovery mode, and classes haven’t even started yet.”

“What are ya taking for yer intro term by the way?” asks Dex, back in the conversation again.

“Uh, just the normal stuff I imagine. I had a course hour to fill so I took “Introduction to Ethics” for it.

“Oh with Professor Baird, eh? That’s a grand one if ye fancy delvin’ intae the depths o’ yer thoughts,” says Serge. “He doesn’t bother much with them clichéd trolley problems but instead aims to uncover the ingrained biases and such. Right thought-provokin’.” I knew Serge wasn’t a typical jock, but he continues to surprise me.

“Yeah, that’s the one. How is he as a professor?”

“Well I took a likin’ to him,” says Serge, shrugging. The rear of the house comes into view through the trees. This part of the park is sectioned off specifically for Stone Hall, with a few signs that say it’s not for public access. There’s a tall wooden fence around the back yard, the outside of which has been painted to look like the trees surrounding the house, I guess to not break the illusion. It’s very well done. I’m glad that the feeling of dread I felt when first trying to find this place is gone though, now it feels more like home. More than… what? My apartment in New York where I’ve lived alone for three years? No attachment there I’m afraid. Although I do miss my friends…. I can already feel my head starting to spiral so I shake it off. You’re here for something new, to make new memories, have new experiences….

“Ya should meet him at the mixer I reckon,” I hear Dex saying. I have not been hearing a word since I asked Serge about that professor. I didn’t even really hear his response; I immediately went into some weird internal monologue thinking about my own shit.

“Yeah, sure thing,” I hear myself saying instinctively. I catch Dex giving me a look but I ignore it: too much to already think about today.

“We’re watchin’ Hot Fuzz tonight, fancy joinin’?” asks Serge, opening the back gate into the house yard. It’s actually pretty cosy back here too. There’s a firepit with a fancy metal cover on it that’s designed to look like vines. There’s a small bar near the back door to the house with a bunch of random chairs nearby. And most important of all, I can finally shake off the negative buzzing in my head about where I’ve lived. I’m home.

“Uh, yeah sure. I think I’m gonna take a nap for now though, feeling weirdly worn out.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Serge whispering something to Dex and Dex shakes his head and shrugs. Whatever. I head in the back door into the lounge, past the foosball table that Serge bumped into while trying to avoid us on my first tour (he really was just trying to stay out of the way, just he’s clumsy, like adorably so), and up the stairs. What’s the line from Peter Pan? Last star on the right? Not sure why that’s suddenly in my head. I fish the key out of my pocket and open the door.

Still not much to look at as you go in since I don’t want to encroach on my future roommate’s space, but my area is looking alright. I took some inspiration from Dex and Serge’s room and some Instagram posts that looked neat. There’s not a lot I can do but I’ve put up some Christmas lights (I think they’re called fairy lights here?) because this room is SO dark, and I also got a tall lamp from Ikea, like a big paper lantern. I want to put some of my posters up once they get here. Should be any day now. Maybe I’ll get a little TV for my PS2, which reminds me I’ll need a plug converter too, hadn’t thought about that. I probably could have put it in my bag with my laptop since I have one of those slim models but I didn’t think about that either. At this point I’m just hoping everything arrives undamaged. I’ve read horror stories and wish I hadn’t.

I kick my shoes off and climb into my bed, nice new sheets and pillows from… somewhere I don’t remember the name of, it was super unassuming. The afternoon sun is filtering in through the yellowing curtains (right, I meant to get a blackout one, maybe tomorrow). Anyway, it’s so comfy now! Feels like my bed in my room, even though I’ll be sharing it soon. Yeah, I had an entire apartment to myself before, but it never really felt like it was mine. This does, don’t know why, don’t care, I’m enjoying the thrill of it.

I pull my laptop from my desk onto my lap and open up one of my favourite emulation forums. I had a weird urge to play this niche PS1 game yesterday and I’m wondering if there’s a ROM out there somewhere. I’m sure there is. The email icon on my taskbar is lit up. Two emails: one from the school and one from dad. I can already feel my stomach churning. Okay, worst possible outcome first: I open the email from the school. It’s just a confirmation of my schedule for the upcoming term with the professors’ hours and classrooms and directions. Bullet dodged. The email from dad is… he is expecting me to come visit him in Oregon at Christmas. I don’t know why but it feels threatening. There’s a knock at the door and I jump, hitting my head on the metal headboard. Getting up, I put my laptop back on my desk and head to the door pulling it open. It’s Serge.

“Ey mate, reckon yer gear arrived, like,” he says indicating with his thumb back over his shoulder at the front door. I step out of the room and look down over the railing at the main entrance below, three medium-sized cardboard boxes and one cylinder are sitting just inside the entry. Yeah, that looks like it, and it’s earlier than I was expecting. I can finally change clothes from the two outfits I could cram in my plane bag.

“Yeah, that looks like it, would you mind helping me bring it up?” I prop the room door open with my shoe and rush downstairs. Yep, Arthur Wayneright alright. Definitely going to go by my middle name here. I need the refresh. Plus Lazuli isn’t bad for a name. I grab the closest box and carry it up the stairs, Serge slowly following behind. He obviously doesn’t share my passion for my stuff.

“Thanks man, you’re a lifesaver,” I say, prying open the first box like an animal. It’s the one with my shirts in, that’ll be nice to change up my wardrobe. I head back downstairs and grab the last box and the tube.

“Aye, nae worries mate,” says Serge as I rush by him back up the stairs, giving me an outstretched wave. Even if I have no detergent, shouldn’t be a bad idea to just run these clothes through a rinse, right?

Looks like my little PS2 came through okay. The old DVD binder with my games in looks a little beat up, but it always did from getting tossed around; I really should have taken better care of it. And the weird collection of notebooks I couldn’t bear get rid of. I guess I didn’t have much that was really “mine” back home. Well, this is ‘home’ now.

The last box contains a couple pairs of jeans, chinos, and some shorts I don’t think I’ll ever wear here. The tube contains a bunch of film and band posters. Not a whole lot of wall real estate for those here, so maybe I should just pick one or two. Maybe just the music ones for now? Passion Pit has to be up there for sure, and maybe… Utada? Yeah, has to be. I’ll get something to put these up later when I get laundry soap. And another power converter, can’t forget that (already got one for my laptop, and a new phone charger). And a little TV. Actually, I wonder if I can get a cable that’ll work with my laptop….

I wonder if Raphael likes video games, or the same kinds of music. I wonder what he might be like at all, if we’ll be friends right away or if it’ll be a struggle at first like those YA novels I’ve been reading lately. He might also be a total dick…. I hope not though. Hopefully I’ll get along with all the guys in the house. When did Dex say they were getting here again? I really wasn’t listening. Right, the mixer. I take my phone out and open my shopping list, adding ‘thing to stick up posters’ and ‘power converter’ to it. The campus stationary store might have something for my posters but I should ask Serge or Dex about electronics. I’m sure there’s something like a Best Buy around here. Oh! I add laundry detergent to the list.

I open the window out onto the balcony a bit to help air out the smell of cardboard and international shipping, then I dump all my clothes together into a box to carry it downstairs. Need to add ‘laundry basket’ to my shopping list. And Febreze. I fumble around trying to catch the utility room doorknob without dropping everything, but I eventually get it. It’s… well I guess I was expecting something like a dingy American basement laundry room, but this is really nice. The floor is the same kind of worn out wood but the walls look clean, same kind of wallpaper as the foyer but in grey and white. There’s a window at the back letting some light in. I nudge the light switch at my left with my elbow to illuminate the globe in the middle of the ceiling. There’s the washer and dryer at the far wall, a big utility sink next to them. Looks like instead of a boiler they’ve got one of those tankless water heaters. The house might be old, but it’s got a lot of modern updates. Dex did say it was always full every year so I imagine the school would want to keep it modern-ish. I’ll feel a little less bad taking showers now that I know it’s not a boiler.

I drop the box of clothes on top of the dryer while I take a look at the washer: shouldn’t be too hard to figure out, can’t be too different from the one at my old place. Actually, it’s even the same brand by the look of it. I open the lid (it’s empty) and dump my clothes in. A quick rinse cycle will be fine for now. I pull out my phone and set a timer for 20 minutes to come check on it. I head back out, switching off the light, and turning into the kitchen. It’s empty but I can see Serge in the back yard. Not sure what he’s doing. I don’t want to be a dick about it (like Dex said), but if I am going to be cooking my own food I do want to at least claim some of my own space. Let’s see, I can probably assume any pots and pans are for the house, right? Let’s see what we’re working with.

There’s an electric kettle which I spot right away, so that might be useful for something besides making tea. Or maybe I’ll develop a taste for it? Looks like there are a few pots and pans, a wok, a griddle plate, a Dutch oven, overall not a poorly equipped kitchen. It’s got a new-ish looking dishwasher, there’s a four-burner cooktop and an oven. Pretty basic stuff, but it all looks pretty modern. I might spend a little extra of my savings on a slow cooker if I can find one. Well it’s really only thanks to my dad and my aunt that I could save up so much in the first place, but now that I’m here, it’s all on me. I’ll need to find work soon, but I’ve got a little bit of time, and my experience in restaurants I’m sure will help.

The other cupboards have a few plates, bowls, and mugs; the drawers a sporadic array of flatware and other cooking utensils. I imagine the cups and stuff are Dex and Serge’s so I’ll probably see what I can find for my own. I guess I never really had to think about how much stuff would cost being on my own. Well I can’t change it now, no way but forward. Out of the window I see Serge is now doing pushups and burpees in the yard. Maybe he might like some water or something? I’m suddenly feeling incredibly alone and want to be near people. I grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water and head out the door to the back yard.

“So is this your everyday kinda thing?” I ask, taking one of the chairs nearby. I can hear Serge counting nine, ten, eleven, twelve…. He pops up from his exercise, straight from horizontal to vertical, it’s very impressive.

“Well not everyday, like,” he says, deep breaths in between. “I’ve been puttin’ on a bit of weight lately, need to get back intae it, ken?” He slaps his belly. Not one inch of him looks like it hasn’t been conditioned and I find myself a little bit jealous.

“So… football… right?” He stops his cooldown to take a look at me.

“Are ye askin’?” I feel every inch of me burning, every flag flying red, but I need to do something new.

“Yeah, I mean… I haven’t played since I was a kid but maybe something….” Serge starts doing a routine of stretches.

“Aye, I understand what ye mean, but this ain’t yer “little league” mate. I appreciate yer desire tae better yerself, though, top notch. I cannae guarantee ye a spot on the team, but I can show ye what we’re about, and if ye manage tae make it on yer own merit, that’s better right?”

I guess there’s no argument there. I nod in agreement. I can feel my stomach tightening already. Why do I feel this way? It’s just a sport.

“Right! Get yer backside over here, we need tae get yer core, lungs, an’ pins strengthened, mate.

* * *

I’m dead. Literally, actually dead. I don’t know what that guy fuels up on but there is no way in hell I can keep up with his energy. He’s so different from how he is when he’s just watching movies with Dex. When he’s with Dex he’s, like, lovey and clingy, and when he’s doing this he is bootcamp master or something. It takes all of my remaining energy to stand upright in the shower and get rid of all the sweat and dirt before I sludge back to my room. I don’t even take my towel off my waist, just collapse into bed.

When I wake up again it’s dark. I fumble around for the lamp switch over the bed, finally finding it and a small cone of light fills the room. After a few blinks, the light mixes with the pale light from outside and the room comes into view. I sit up, the towel falling from my waist. That’s right, I never got dressed after the shower. And I think my laundry is still downstairs. What time even is it? I fumble around for my phone, finally finding it under my bed. As I’m bending over I hear a noise from behind me. Bolt upright, defence position, but it’s just a bird. I must have also forgotten to close the window and it flew in. I’ve seen two camps of leaving it alone and also chasing it out so I have no idea especially right now. I put my shorts on and head over to the window onto the balcony, trying to figure out how to get the poor thing back outside and there I see Serge lying completely nude on a lawn chair.

“Uh, hi?” I ask, just out of shock I think. He raises his head up.

“Oh hey, come on an’ soak in the moonlight wi’ me!” He waves me over to an adjacent chair and I don’t know what to do, so I just anaemically shuffle over and sit down. And here I am, sitting almost naked with my housemate on the balcony at… whatever time this is. I guess it’s night so it’s less bad?

“Ye did a mighty fine job today, mate. Ye should be proud of yerself,” says Serge, laying back in lounge position. He truly doesn’t care, does he? I guess that tracks with what I know about him so far. Maybe I could try and take a note from his book? I can’t help but look over at what was previously hidden by those green shorts before and I’m a little frightened. I hope Dex is the top in their relationship. “Last few nights to let it all out and unwind for a bit, sorry if I caught you off.”

“Oh, this isn’t just you normally?” I’m panicking.

“Aye, ‘tis, but the fellas aren’t usually as… receptive, ken? Even though we’re all lads. Bit perplexing, really. Durin’ the school year I don’t usually get the chance, or I do it in the back where the light ain’t as good due tae the trees. But here from the balcony I can soak it all in, ye see.”

“Honestly… Yeah, I think I get this, or I’m starting to. You have done so much for me and I’m just some douchebag who moved here from New York to go to school. Why?” Maybe it’s the moonlight or the exhaustion all combined with the feelings of wanting to belong, and this new familiarity but I can’t stop it from spilling out.

“God, yer like Dex afore I learned how he talked, what are you on about? Why wouldn’t I make friends wi’ me housemate? Why wouldn’t I try and help ‘em improve themselves? ‘Sides, footie team is lookin’ a bit slack this year, I might need ye on board.” He lets out a soft chuckle, glancing over before settling back. After a moment he sits back up, putting everything on display. “As I told ye, Dex does tend to take on a lot. If ye need somethin’ on the down-low, feel free to come tae me.” His face looks almost desperate. “I just dinnae want him gettin’ overwhelmed wi’ too much on his plate again.” He almost slams himself back down in the chair.

“What happened?” I ask tentatively. I’m feeling a weird mix of emotions right now, so probably best to follow suit and lie back myself.

“I shouldn’t really be sayin’ this… but Dex took ill last year. I mean proper poorly. I was fair worried it might be somethin’ serious but turns out it was just the stress gettin’ to him, he’d been pushin’ himself way too hard, like. Since then I’ve been lendin’ a hand wherever I can. Honestly, if ye ask me, Dex’s too kind for this job, but he’s determined to carry on. That’s just the lad he is, and I love him for it. So, where I can I step in as the muscle, tryin’ to fix things… or even people. Reckon I won’t need to fix ye, so no worries there.” He lets out a low chuckle that shakes my bones. “The previous RA was kinda… intense, to say the least. Puttin’ a lot of unnecessary stress on the lads, and weren’t exactly welcomin’ to anyone… different. Dex got a lot of shite, which contributed to his illness, but he recovered. Took charge of Animal House last year after having a conversation with the Board. Since then, he’s been workin’ hard to transform this place into a more welcoming environment. Yer among the first to witness it, a space he aims to be truly inclusive.”

“Animal House?” I can’t hear it, only feel it, like I’ve said something wrong and he’s reacting to it. I don’t dare look over at him, his body highlighted by moonlight, I just look up at the faint stars. “I grew up in Oregon near the one from the movie, so I was wondering how this place got that name.”

“No shite, like?!” He’s suddenly upright and staring at me like a wide-eyed child… with his massive dong out. I keep my gaze fixed firmly on the stars overhead.

“Uh, yeah. I was born in Oregon where my dad taught at that school, but when I was young we moved to New York to be closer to my mother’s parents. So I spent my childhood in between, and then my mom….” Serge can instantly tell I’ve gone into some unpleasant memories I feel because he touches my hand.

“Ye don’t have tae tell me anythin’ ye don’t want tae.” I shake my head.

“It’s fine. She’d been in and out of rehab but I didn’t know that, I was just a kid. So, I grew up in Eugene and New York, and my dad kept saying it might be important, but it never was until I tried to join this school. Not sure where, but somewhere someone called this place Animal House and I never got why but I felt it would be a great ‘fuck you’ to my old man. But then the place didn’t really look like it, so, oh well. I’m not here for him, right? I’m here for me, to… try and figure out who I am.”

“So ye don’t have a notion about the whole ‘toga party’ craic? I never quite got me head around that with American unis.” In my periphery I see him lie back down in the lounge chair.

“Uh, well… I think it was just a thing in the movie, I haven’t seen it though. I mean fraternities are a thing in the States, pretty big things actually, but I don’t think all that stuff from the movie is real. Especially the parade, that’s not a thing. But fraternities are… well kinda like this house I guess. Or how I imagine them, close-knit groups of… brothers. Isn’t that what ‘fraternity’ means? A brotherhood?” Serge doesn’t react at all, then after a moment he props himself up.

“Aye, that’s exactly what Dex had in mind for this place, turnin’ it into somethin’ better after all the shite. S’pose it took someone else pointin’ it out for me to really see it, and I’m glad ye could do it, thank ye!” He swivels over, sitting upright and looking me squarely in the face with his… everything just on display. My heart starts racing. He grabs my hand in his, rough and warm. I can’t help but turn and look him in the face; I think my heart might explode. He looks so genuinely happy, like a kid at Christmas.

“Cheers, mate! I jus’ didn’t grasp his intentions till now, but it’s hittin’ me like a brick. He simply wanted this place to be a haven where we can all be like brothers, nae matter what brought us here.”

“Happy to help,” I say, laughing a little bit nervously using all of my willpower to not look down. He releases my hand and heads inside, the balcony doors creaking closed behind him. With a deep, ragged breath, I lie back in the chair, looking back up at the stars. Is this what it’s going to be like to live here? This weird rollercoaster of emotions? I guess I should try and get used to it: I’m about to be living with five strangers. Who knows how they might all act? But I know Serge and Dex care at least, absolutely, even if Serge is a little bit… intense himself. I hear a weird noise behind me and whip around to catch a glimpse of the bird flying out of my room window. Well, that solves that problem at least. I head back in through the window, pulling it closed, and scooping up my phone from the floor. One missed alarm? Oh right, my laundry. And already after 9? No wonder I feel messed up.

I head downstairs to the utility room, looks like one of the guys went ahead and put it in the dryer for me and it’s already done. That was nice of them. Struggling a bit, I scoop up all of it and carry it back up the stairs and dump it on my bed. I’ll sort it out in a bit, I kinda want to check in on the guys and see if they’ve got dinner plans already. I remember them saying they were doing another movie night, and now that I’ve got all my finances sorted out (well, sort of), I can at least pay for myself this time.

As I head back downstairs I hear mumbling from Dex and Serge’s room. I can’t really tell what they’re saying but I do catch a bit: something about “making sure everyone is welcome, even them”? And “don’t worry about it.” No idea. I mean I guess about the new residents maybe? Dex wanted to be sure this would be a welcoming place, so that might track. Whatever, it’s not my conversation to be listening to. I purposefully knock on the open door to announce my presence. Serge, sitting on the loveseat, cranes his neck over towards the door.

“Oh hey! We were just on the verge of getting’ the ball rollin’!” he waves me inward, where I spy Dex curled up in the giant beanbag chair looking less than happy.

“Everything okay?” I ask, trying not to let on I heard anything.

“Aye, just a bit o’ last-minute stress over the new lads, like” says Serge. I see he’s put his green shorts back on, but nothing else. He pivots on the loveseat to look squarely at Dex, very gently placing his fingers on the smaller’s chin.

“Everythin’ will be grand, ye need to trust me,” says the larger, making unbreaking eye contact. The smaller takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, then exhales, smiling up at the larger.

“I know,” he says, untangling himself a bit. “Right! Ready fer Hot Fuzz? Looks like yer ready for somethin’ hot.” It takes a moment before I realise I’m still just in my shorts. My face instantly burns.

“Ah, yeah, my clothes just got here so I was washing them,” I say, trying to play it off. “Thanks for putting them in the dryer for me, that was cool of you.”

“No stress lad,” says Dex. “When ya live wi’ this’un you get used to seein’ a lot more’n you bargained for around every corner.” He laughs softly, visibly feeling much better than before I walked in. “If ya haven’t seen it yet just be prepared fer an eyeful eventually.” I half-laugh myself, taking a seat next to Serge on the loveseat.

“Oh don’t worry, I already have.” Serge, in a rare move, blushes himself.

“Sorry for that, mate, I didn’t mean tae put ye ill at ease, like,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

“It’s fine, it was just… unexpected. I’m not used to living with other people so it’s going to be different and I need to expect that. Plus it’s not like I entirely minded….” I can feel my already hot face getting hotter.

“Just take it easy, ‘kay mate? ‘E’s mine,” says Dex, visibly smug. Serge, with one of his massive hands, takes Dex’s chin, holding it while he looks into his eyes again.

“Aye, I am,” he says before planting a kiss. Without drawing too much attention to myself, I cross my left ankle to rest it on my right knee and casually rest my arms across the tightening crotch of my shorts.

“Jus’ ya wait,” says Dex, almost breathlessly before snapping back into the moment. “So then! Ready fer another oddball comedy? No zombies this time, it’s an action-comedy.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, but my mind is spinning in wild directions and not thinking about our movie night at all.

“…Ya alright, mate?” asks Dex, leaning in and looking concerned.

“I’m fine! Just… distracted. Mind went somewhere, but it’s fine.” He gives me a sideways glance but leans back into the beanbag chair.

“Right, if ya say so.” He pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket. “What do ya blokes fancy fer grub?” Serge half-turns towards me and gives me a wink, making my hard problem even harder. I can feel his chuckle as it vibrates the room.