#i'm hiding in my office supposedly writing a report but alas it was not meant to be

[piratekane]

Roommates au dealer's choice

If you ask Ava, things are going really well. Like, really well. Her apartment is a little far from campus but the walk is good for her. It stretches her morning-tight muscles out so well that by the time she gets to her first class, she's able to cram into the world's most uncomfortable stadium seats ever built and learn about things she wants to learn about.

She has all the things she thought she'd have in college: a regular seat in her Intro to Philosophy class where she can hide her iced coffee from the eagle eyes of her professor; a table in the library that seems to be reserved for her where she can hide her iced coffee from the glare of the world's most ancient librarian; a running study date at the campus coffee shop with a group of people from her Biology 1 lab where the barista knows her by name and always has her iced coffee on the counter.

And the world's coolest roommate.

“Honey, I’m hooome,” she sings as she throws open the apartment door hard enough that nearly hit the wall behind it. She barely stops it.

Beatrice, to her credit, doesn’t flinch. She’s used to it by now, to the way Ava seems to explode into a room. But Ava likes trying, likes seeing how much she can throw Bea off balance. She makes a certain face when something catches her off guard. A slight widening of her eyes and lips parting in surprise. Ava not-so-secretly loves it. 

There’s a lot about Bea that she not-so-secretly loves. And there’s a lot she secretly loves too.

“How did your exam go?”

Ava clicks her tongue. “What about ‘wassup, Ava’? Or ‘Ava, I missed you terribly in the hour you were gone from my side’. What kind of greeting is how did your exam go?”

Bea regards her for a moment before letting out a nearly imperceptible sigh. Ava knows that one, the way it sounds so poorly annoyed but is really just an exhale of fondness. “Hello, Ava. How did your exam go?”

There’s a lot about her that Bea not-so-secretly loves. She hopes there’s a lot Bea secretly loves too.

Ava throws her backpack onto the couch, clocking the way that Bea’s eyes follow it as it lands and bounces onto the floor. She picks it up and puts it down gently, pretending like that’s what she was going to do the whole time. Bea does her the favor of pretending the same.

“Aced it.” She crosses the room to the table where Bea is, what seems like a hundred books spread out in front of her. She frowns. If this is what junior year is going to look like, she wants no part of that. “How is saving the world?”

“It’s Religious Studies. Hardly saving the world.” But Bea’s cheeks redden still. Ava almost taps her on the nose, just to see how far down it’ll go. “But it’s going fine. I’ve nearly worked out quite the thesis for this paper.”

Ava leans over, one hand resting on Bea’s shoulder. She feels the sharp bone under her palm, the way the muscles tense and coil. She actively stops herself from running her fingers down over the cliff of Bea’s collarbone or down the curve of her shoulder to her bicep. It’s unfortunately hidden under a long sleeve shirt today, depriving Ava of one of her favorite views.

She thinks - she hopes - she hears a sharp whistle of an inhale as she leans forward even more, chest at Bea’s eye-level. It takes considerable effort to hide the smirk on her face. She deserves some kind of reward for it and she’ll take her prize in the form of a kiss.

It’s not a prize she’ll actually get. But it doesn’t stop her from dreaming about it.

“Proud of you,” she finally says, turning and pressing a fleeting kiss to Bea’s forehead. Her skin is warm and dry and Ava lets herself linger for just a second before she pulls away.

Maybe Beatrice exhales when she does. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light coming in through their living room window.

“Thank you,” Bea says softly. She arranges an already-perfect stack of papers. “I was thinking we might get Thai for dinner tonight.”

Ava pops up from the refrigerator, a bag of shredded cheese in her hand. “Take out? What’s the occasion?.”

Bea’s face twists in mild disgust. “I’m not sure if I can stomach another night of you eating… shredded cheese. From the bag.” She stands up, caps her pen, and sets it down carefully alongside the two highlighters and the pen she uses only to correct something. Ava watches in fascination, easily caught up in the way Bea’s fingers work effortlessly over them, arranging everything perfectly. “And I have a favor to ask.”

She abandons the shredded cheese. “A favor?” She bumps the refrigerator closed with her hip and leans back across the counter. “From me?”

“It has been known to happen from time to time.” Bea takes a few steps forward until she’s reached the small peninsula that extends from the side of the kitchen out into a breakfast bar where they usually eat unless Ava can convince Bea to sit on the couch. She leans against it, mirroring Ava. “But this is more of a… personal favor.”

“Yes, I’ll fight your parents. You don’t even have to ask.”

Some of the seriousness that was building on Bea’s face, the slight wrinkle in her forehead, breaks. Her mouth turns up in a slight smile, the way it always does when Ava threatens to commit bodily harm in Bea’s honor. Ava grins in return.

“I’ll remember that for the next time one of their letters arrives in the mail.” She looks thoughtful again. “No, I was wondering if…” Bea’s hands flutter in front of her for a moment before they settle into a tight knot. “Well, if you might tell me what makes me appealing to other people.”

Ava almost wishes she had a mouthful of the wine in the back of the refrigerator she’s saving for when she finds out how she did on her Poetry and Politics paper. Just so that she could spit it out and illustrate how ridiculous of a question Beatrice is asking right now. But she settles for twisting her face in confusion and staring at Bea.

Bea takes her silence as a no. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “That was a silly question. Forget I asked.” The walls are closing quickly. Ava is watching boards going up in the windows and two by fours going across the doors. “Of course, we can still get Thai food. Mary recommended their-”

“Bea.” Bea’s mouth snaps closed. “I wasn’t saying no. I was just… Do you really need someone to tell you?”

But the look on Bea’s face says that, yes. She does need someone to tell her. Ava considers herself a master in many subjects but she’s an expert at the ways in which Beatrice is appealing. So she carefully regards Bea and purses her lips and nods.

“I’ll do it.”

She thinks maybe there’s a flicker of relief on Bea’s face, but it passes quickly. She doesn’t linger on it. Ava crosses her arms over her chest, chin in the air as she studies Bea and resists the urge to cross the room. “Well, first of all, you always leave a light on for the last person coming home.”

Bea’s lips purse in a frown.

“And you never make me do the dishes by myself, even if you’re just sitting here with me. You don’t mind getting mushrooms on your pizza, even if I know you think they’re slimy.” Ava uncrosses her arms, starts counting on her fingers. “You keep soda in the apartment even though you think it rots my teeth. You always vacuum when I’m not home because you know how much the sound freaks me out.”

Bea’s frown deepens. “I think that makes me… a good roommate. For you.”

“The best,” Ava agrees. “No one else I’d rather be roommates with.” Bea is still frowning and Ava feels herself melt a little. She gives in this time, crossing the room to press her thumb gently to the space between Bea’s forehead, feeling the skin smooth out under her touch. “But you’re also incredibly kind. People can trust you with their lives. You’re humble, considerate. Insanely intelligent. Hilarious. And… my best friend.”

Bea smiles softly, eyes cutting down with slight embarrassment. 

“Plus.” Ava’s hand drifts without her permission, dancing across Bea’s cheek to curl around her neck to hold her gaze. “You’re hot.”

This close, she can see Bea swallow and hear the near-silent inhale of air. This close, she can feel how the words land and how they alter Bea. Ava smooths her thumb against Bea’s neck, feeling her pulse pound under thin skin. She feels herself swaying in a little, the tips of her bare feet touching Bea’s slippered toes. Her eyes drop to Bea’s lips.

She could throw caution to the wind. She could cut through the last threads of her reasonable thoughts and kiss Bea right here in their kitchen. But Bea deserves a big romance with a kiss and a side of fireworks. And Ava still has pieces of cheese stuck to her other hand. So she settles for brushing her thumb against Bea’s neck one last time and breaking the moment with a wink.

“I can write you a recommendation, if you want,” she offers as she takes a small step backwards, smiling as charmingly as she can. “Unless you’re collecting this information so that you can sell yourself to some other idiot with a better apartment.”

Bea blinks once, then twice. Her face clouds for a moment before it clears and Ava is looking back at the Bea she’s used to, albeit a little pinker in the cheeks. “Don’t be silly,” she says, voice thinner than usual. “I’d simply make you move out.”

Ava’s mouth drops open. “Me? I’d have to move out? No way. I’m basically built into the woodwork at this point.” She jabs a finger at Bea. “You jump, I jump. What’s that one line you like, from Ruby?”

“Ruth,” Bea corrects quietly. “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you,” she quotes. “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.”

Ava nods with an air of finality. “You’re my forever-roomate, Beatrice. Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.”

Bea smiles, eyes on the floor for a moment before they meet Ava’s. “Okay. I suppose I can live with that.”

“Good.” Ava takes a deep breath, holding it in her cheeks, and blowing it out loudly. “You said Thai, right? Does that mean we get to eat in the living room? I pinky promise not to drop any satay sauce on the carpet.” She bounces on the tips of her toes hopefully and cheers a little when Bea sighs out a yes. Ava beams as Bea picks through the menus in the drawer that Beatrice swears the can opener is, if only Ava would truly look for it.

“You’re my forever-roommate too, Ava,” Bea says quietly as she passes Ava the take out menu. “In case you didn’t know it.”

“I did,” she lies. “But it’s nice to hear you say it every once in a while.”

Bea’s hand brushes across the back of hers and then she’s drifting away, back to the table and her homework like leaving Ava with all this knowledge - that Bea wants to be with her forever - isn’t a truth that Ava will think about for the rest of the night. Bea must know. She has to. It's the only thing that makes sense.

So, yeah. Things are going well. They’re going really well.