“You’re making a lot of assumptions about me,” he grumbles, but he reaches out and takes the cup anyway. Jake isn’t above noticing how soft his hands are when they brush, and he’s a weak enough man to attempt to prolong that contact. Kyle pulls back quickly, holding out his other hand. “Give me your phone.”
Jake scrambles to do just that, unlocking and slapping the device in Kyle’s waiting palm. He frowns as he enters his number, practically shoving the phone back into Jake’s hand before walking past him toward the doors.
“Text me when you’re ready to study,” he grumbles, refuses to make eye contact, and frowns like he tastes something bitter, but as Jake looks at the new contact in his phone, he finds himself grinning. He’ll take it as a victory.
He has his victory, but impulse convinces him to push it. “Hey!” He spins on his heel, grin still fixed in place as he spots Kyle paused, halfway through the door into the building. He looks back at Jake, an eyebrow raised. “Wanna come to a party tonight? You know, get out, meet some people, get drunk?”
He sees the conflict flicker across Kyle’s face, but there are far too many emotions to pinpoint them, and they’re gone before he can try. Kyle smiles, but it’s small, just a tilt of his lips, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “No, thanks,” he says, and it sounds hollow.
Jake watches him disappear into the building, grin fading. There’s a strange ache in his chest, soft and barely there. Sympathy? Pity? He’s not really sure. Jake likes to think that he’s starting to scale those walls, but now he’s wondering what he’ll find beyond them. Kyle looks tired, but it’s more than that. He looks... sad. Just, generally. Like he carries a dark cloud with him that he can’t quite shake.
Jake gets it in his head that he wants to see Kyle smile. A real smile, bright and genuine. And he knows he’s stubborn enough to follow it through.
* * *
He spends the rest of the day thinking about Kyle on and off. About the hollow sorrow in his eyes when he attempts to smile and the conflict on his face when he decided to help Jake. About his hair, dark and messy, windswept in a way that looked wholly natural but also in a way that Jake can imagine it being spread out across a pillow as he throws his head back—
Whoa, okay. Wrong train of thought.
Jake shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair to clear his thoughts. He has plenty of time to dwell on his tutor later. Right now, he has a party to get to, a girlfriend to meet. Get drunk and probably fuck. The usual Friday night. He’s got his favorite jeans on, the ones that are comfortable and make his ass look great, and a fitted V-neck t-shirt. He looks good, he feels good, and he’s ready to forget the world of academia for a while.
The walk to Cindi’s apartment isn’t long, but he takes his time, letting the night air rush over him. It’s crisp and cold against his bare arms, and it feels good. The plan for the night is simple: pick up his girlfriend, walk to the party ten minutes away, get drunk, walk back to her place. Just like they have several times before.
The routine is already thrown when he finds her waiting for him in the parking lot of her building. Even more so when he realizes she’s leaning against one of her friend’s cars. He can see several of them piled in it through the windows, and he tries to ignore their stares.
“Hey, babe,” he says as he approaches, hands in his pockets, smiling despite the tension coiling in his gut. She looks up from her phone, but when he leans in for a kiss, she leans away. It surprises him, but he’s even more surprised by the hand pressed to his chest, keeping him arm’s length away. He looks down at it, then up at her.
She frowns, full red painted lips turned down at the edges, delicate brow furrowed. “Look, Jake, we’ve got to talk.”
He glances at the car, then at her, speaking slowly. “Oookay?”
He follows her as she leads him away from the car, turning to face her when she stops. One hand on her hip, she holds her phone in her other hand at her side. She looks determined but nearly bored. “Listen, I think we should break up.”
He can’t say he’s surprised to hear it. Not with how she’s been acting. He’s been broken up with before, and he’s learned to recognize the signs. He waits for the mounting tension in his gut to squeeze, to come to a head, to make him feel desperate and nauseous. But it never comes. Instead, the twisting knot relaxes, leaving him strangely at ease.
He blinks, slightly surprised. He had expected some sort of ache. If he’s honest with himself, he hasn’t felt much for Cindi in a while. Sure, she’s hot as hell and a damn fine catch, but the chase had been more fun than the relationship that followed. In the end, there were few things special about her, and he hadn’t felt a connection. Nothing to make his insides all jittery or sparks when they touched.
Still, it should hurt when someone decides they no longer want him. Even if it’s just for a second. Instead, he only feels relief.
He shifts his weight to one foot, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, head tilting to the side as he frowns. “Okay,” he says slowly, eyes narrowing. “Can you tell me why?” Because despite lacking any sort of devastation, he thinks he deserves that at least.
She just shrugs, waving her phone hand around in vague gestures. “It’s just like... you’re a great fuck, Jake. You really are. But you’re not very... smart?” He snorts a short, humorless laugh, and she frowns, pointing a finger at him and jabbing it into his chest. “Laugh all you want, but it’s true. You even said you’re in danger of getting kicked off the team, and I don’t want to be the one who drags you down.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at that. What a load of shit. If that were true, she would support him. Not ditch him. More like she doesn’t want to be seen dating the dropout. It’s bad for her rep.
She doesn’t seem to notice, gaze already drifting away. He can’t tell if she’s unable to make eye contact or if she’s just bored. “Besides, right now I think I just wanna like, have time to find myself, you know? Be me instead of being in a couple. That’s what college is about, right?”
More like she wants to find someone she’s not bored with, but he keeps that thought to himself.
“Whatever. Live your life, Cindi.” It doesn’t come out as cynical or bitter as he thought it might. If anything, he matches her indifference.
If she’s offended by his lack of devastation, she doesn’t show it. Instead she smirks, patting him on the shoulder as she walks by. “I knew you’d understand. Bye, Jake. Good luck with your grades, or whatever.”
He scoffs, practically rolling her touch off his shoulder as he mutters. “Yeah, you too.”
He doesn’t bother watching her walk away. He just starts off down the street, in the direction of the party. He hears her get into her friend’s car, hears it tear out of the parking lot and down the street, but he doesn’t look up.
He gets about halfway to the party before he stops. He’s not sad about the break up, per se, but he does feel strangely... hollow. It’s not the ache of a break up that he’s used to. It’s not a black pit in his chest and nausea in his gut. It’s just... a strange numbing. It feels like nothing. He stares down the street, gaze distant and lips pursed. He could go to the party alone. Drink until he feels something.
But... he’s surprised to find that he really doesn’t want to.
He’s even more surprised when a whispered voice in his mind offers an alternative.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mutters to himself even as he turns on his heel, stalking back toward campus with renewed purpose. He pulls out his phone, finding Kyle’s new contact and firing off a text. “Studying instead of partying. Who am I?”
But despite the sardonic tone of that thought, there’s a strange buzzing thrill that vibrates beneath his skin as he gets a text with Kyle’s dorm number.
Chapter Four
Kyle stares down at the phone in his hand, eyes narrowed on the text from Jake that says he’s on his way over. It seems far too enthusiastic for a study session,
especially given that he was supposed to be going to a party tonight. Kyle sighs, setting his phone face-down on his desk as he pushes away from it. So much for getting work done on his damage algorithm. Maybe if he can convince Jake to read for a bit, he can type up some of the test code strips he came up with earlier.
He twists in his seat, gaze flickering around the room. His dorm isn’t exactly big, but he thinks it’s a decent size for a dorm. His roommate is out tonight, as he is most weekends, so at least they’ll have the space to themselves.
His heart does a weird little skip at that thought, and he puts a hand to his chest, frowning. That’s... weird. And not okay.
Shaking his head, he slides out of his chair, setting to work picking up enough of their stuff to make his room a little more presentable. They have their beds bunked to one side, the other side occupied by a small bookshelf stocked with video games and consoles, a flat screen set up on top. Their mini-fridge-microwave combo is shoved over to the side, two worn but comfortable beanbags taking up the center space between the TV and the beds. Their desks and wardrobes are puzzled into place around the rest of the room.
His roommate, Jasper, isn’t exactly the cleanest guy, but he’s not too messy. Not any more so than Kyle. His desk has books and papers and wrappers scattered everywhere, but at least it’s contained to his desk. Kyle’s own desk has more things, more books and notebooks and knickknacks, but it exists in its own little organized chaos.
He does a sweep of the room, picking up trash and tossing their clothes into the appropriate hampers. He makes his bed meticulously and wonders why the hell he cares. It’s not like he thinks Jake would care. If anything, he’s willing to bet Jake’s room is also messy.
Standing back, hands on his hips as he glances around the room and its strange mix of personality from him and Jasper, he wonders for the millionth time why he agreed to this. He doesn’t want to tutor anybody, let alone some meathead jock. He doesn’t have time. He has his own school work to do, and when he’s not doing that, he’s working on Cry Thunder.
He still has so much to do before he can even release a playable beta for testing, and he really shouldn’t be wasting his time on tutoring. Besides, what’re the odds that it’ll actually help Jake? Sure, he might pass one class, but to bring up his entire GPA by two points this semester alone? Still... Kyle can’t help but feel a little bad for him. The way he talked about it, how desperate he sounded, it’s clear that it means a lot to him that he passes. Maybe it was the pity that temporarily overtook his common sense and caused him to say yes.
Besides, Jake said he would pay him, and Kyle needs to start building funds if he’s going to start investing in servers and storage space for his game.
He gave in for the money, he decides. Getting money for something that’ll be easy, that he can do while still offhandedly working on his game, will be worth it.
He hopes.
Lost in thought, he jumps when there’s a sharp knock on his door. It’s a strange sound, and one he doesn’t hear often. Jasper rarely has friends coming over here, and Kyle never does. The only visitors they ever really get are his RA and occasionally neighbors asking for something.
Heart hammering far too wildly for a simple knock on the door, Kyle scowls as he walks across the room to the door. Lifting his chin, he swings the door open and ignores the weird squeeze in his chest when he finds Jake standing there. It’s a stupid reaction. He knew Jake would be there. Still... it’s one thing to know, and another to see him there, in Kyle’s hallway and in Kyle’s doorway. Wearing nice jeans and a fitted V-neck that stretches across his broad chest and shoulders, clinging to a tapered waist. He has a backpack thrown over one shoulder, and he smiles sheepishly down at Kyle.
“Hey, uh, sorry about the sudden change of plans,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. His eyes wander away from Kyle to the room behind him.
He shrugs, stepping back and gesturing him in. “It’s fine.” He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so clipped, but it comes out that way nonetheless. He blames the weird heat beneath his skin. “Just... sit wherever.”
He closes the door quietly and slips back into his seat at his desk, chair turned so he can watch as Jake stands in the middle of his room, turning in a slow circle to take everything in. It’s strange to see him there. He looks nothing like Kyle or Jasper. Tall and broad and more at home in a gym than in their strange little nerd den of a dorm. Still, Kyle realizes it’s the first time he’s ever had someone over. The first time he’s ever invited anyone over. And his chest does that annoying little squeeze again.
He frowns, ducking down to pull his economics textbook out of his backpack, setting it down on his desk loudly enough to get Jake’s attention. “Should we get started?” He asks, mindlessly flipping through the book to avoid looking up at Jake.
“Oh, right, yeah.” Jake drops his own backpack to the floor and collapses into one of the beanbag chairs. He makes himself comfortable before pulling out his own textbook and a notebook that looks like it’s never been used. “Would you believe this is the first time I’ve ever actually opened this book?”
Kyle exhales a short, sharp laugh, even as he deadpans, “With how often you bring your book to class? No, I never would’ve guessed.”
There’s a long silence, and as it drags on, Kyle starts to feel the wriggling of doubt in his gut, anxiety squirming beneath his skin. That was... could that have been considered rude? Shit. It’s been a long time since he’s been forced to be social with people, and he and Jasper live in a shared state of sarcasm and dry humor.
He glances up and catches Jake’s gaze. His eyes are wide, lips parted slightly in his shock. And as Kyle watches, those lips slowly curve up into a wide, toothy smile. One that is definitely not good for Kyle’s heart. “Oh my god— was that a joke?”
Kyle frowns, bristling slightly. “Am I not allowed to joke?”
“No, no! You definitely are. I just... wasn’t expecting it, I guess? You’re always so... serious.”
Kyle looks down again, digging out his own notebook from class to keep his hands and his eyes busy as he mutters, “You’re making assumptions about me again.”
“My bad.”
Kyle can hear the smile in his voice, but he refuses to look up. He’s learning very quickly that Jake’s smiles aren’t good for his health. The guy is too damn pretty for Kyle’s own good. And he’s going to be stuck with him, in his dorm, alone, for at least an hour— oh god, why did he agree to this?
“So, uh... what chapter are we on exactly?” There’s a sheepishness to his voice, along with the edges of embarrassment trying to hide behind humor.
Kyle finds himself smiling, even as he keeps his eyes cast down. “Five.”
“Right, I knew that.”
Never having tutored in his life, Kyle has been under the impression that it would be easy. Figure out what Jake’s been having trouble on, force him to study and do his homework, and that’s it. Turns out that’s a lot harder when Jake has never read or studied for this class at all, and Kyle quickly comes to the realization that a foundation has to be built before any real studying can happen.
The first twenty minutes are spent with Kyle asking questions, trying to figure out how much of the material Jake knows and where he needs to learn the most. Turns out the answers are not much and pretty much everything, in that order. With a sigh, rubbing his fingers on his temple, Kyle tells Jake to start by reading chapter five. Actually reading it. Not just skimming it. At least then they can move forward through the stuff they’re learning now in class.
“Just let me know if you have any questions while you’re reading,” he says as he turns back to his computer, fingers already settling over the keyboard and eyes scanning the strips of code he’d been working on earlier.
It takes Jake two minutes before he asks his first question, and then what feels like thirty seconds after that for the second. They come at such a rapid speed, and Kyle quickly realizes that not having a
foundation is a problem. Whenever the book refers to something they learned earlier in the semester, Jake gets confused. But it’s more than that. The mere wording of sentences, even those explaining simple concepts, get confusing and muddled in Jake’s understanding.
Kyle finally sighs, pushing back from his desk, climbing to his feet. He shuffles across the room and collapses into the beanbag next to Jake, his own book open on his lap, resigning himself to the fact that he’s going to have to go through it with Jake and help him decipher the text.
He regrets moving to the beanbag almost immediately when Jake’s cologne fills his nose and his calf brushes against Kyle’s foot. Curling up in his beanbag, he focuses on the text, talking through it aloud and answering questions, keeping eye contact to a minimum.
* * *
Jake sighs loudly, the exhale trailing off into a groan as he stretches on the beanbag, arms over his head as his back arches and his head falls back. “Jesus Christ, my brain hurts.”
Kyle purses his lips, brows pinching. “We’re only half way through the chapter.”
“Halfway?” Kyle nods, and Jake groans again. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“No one said getting your GPA up would be easy,” Kyle says, trying to sound gentle.
“I know, I know, just... can we take a break?”
Kyle sighs, closing his book and pulling out his phone. It’s been nearly an hour since Jake arrived. “Sure.”
“Sweet.” Jake rolls to his feet, taking a moment to stretch his hands high above his head and arch his back. Kyle finds his gaze fixed on the strip of midsection revealed as his shirt rides up, and he quickly looks away. Jake’s back pops, and he groans, causing heat to rise to Kyle’s cheeks. Jake then paces around the room, and Kyle keeps his attention fixed on his phone, determined to ignore him while he attempts to get his traitorous body under control.
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