Roommates With Benefits [BL] Chapter 25: Nothing Beats Free Food

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By the ti my last lecture wrapped up, I honestly felt like I had crossed so threshold of exhaustion, reaching a new realm of suffering. One that probably doesn’t have a na yet, mainly because most sane people would have fallen asleep long before reaching that point.

Not only did I sohow sleep through nearly half the class, but I also woke myself up with my own snoring.

I was snoring quietly, mind you.

But still.

In a room full of fellow students who were, I assu, awake and engaged, doing the whole ’student’ thing...which I clearly was not.

Honestly, it felt humbling enough as is, yet the universe had other plans for and kept the day rolling regardless.

As I staggered out of the lecture hall, I let out a yawn so strong I thought my jaw might just crack, dragging my backpack over my shoulder. The late afternoon sun bathed Hawthorne University’s sprawling campus in this soft, golden light that looked beautiful, but I felt emotionally drained enough to not appreciate it at all.

The campus looked just like it always did at that hour, grand and relaxed, with its stone paths and perfectly manicured lawns that seed designed to make prospective students feel like enrolling here would be life-changing instead of a financial nightmare...if you were a regular person like , if you were a Nepo-baby then you were good to go!

Students flooded the paths around , decked out in pricey coats, fancy sneakers, and outfits that appeared effortlessly stylish in a way that took a lot of ti and money to achieve while cleverly hiding that fact. Laughter rang out from sowhere nearby, music floated faintly from a portable speaker, drifting through the air like a soundtrack for people who had no pressing obligations to worry about.

anwhile, I felt like a man being hunted by several unfriendly forces, all gaining on .

My brain was still lagging behind, weighed down by lack of sleep, stress from the hospital, back-to-back work shifts, and the unique ntal exhaustion that cos from living with soone who seed to think silence was not just okay but morally superior to acknowledging the existence of another person.

My notes from today’s lecture were a jumbled ss, and I had a nagging feeling that I’d scribbled "classical conditioning" in the margin of a legal studies handout at so point, which suggested my brain was off on so side quest while my hand pretended to keep up.

Honestly, living with Damien was feeling more like an experint I hadn’t consented to.

I rubbed my tired eyes as I walked down the campus stairs, operating on autopilot and wishing no one would need anything from for a while.

And of course, I imdiately regretted that thought when a familiar voice sliced through the noise like an enthusiastic foghorn.

"There he is!"

I looked up just in ti to see Joey jog over, bursting with the energy of a golden retriever who just downed a double espresso. His hair was doing that ssy thing that sohow looked better for it, which I ntally added to the long list of injustices I had no power to change.

anwhile, I was barely managing to stay upright. We were clearly not on the sa wavelength right now.

Joey stopped right in front of , staring at my face for what felt like forever, his expression cycling through concern and barely-contained horror.

Then he winced dramatically.

"Jesus Christ."

I frowned. "That’s rude."

"You look like a zombie."

"I also feel like one."

"No, seriously," he continued, grabbing my shoulders and turning my face toward the sunlight as if inspecting a Victorian child for signs of life. "Oliver, your eye bags have eye bags. They’ve developed their own eye bags. It’s generational."

I weakly pushed his hands away. "Thanks. Your support ans the world to . Truly. I’ll rember this."

Joey snorted before he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and started leading toward the campus gates with the determined energy of soone with a set goal and no intention of taking suggestions.

"Co on."

"Where are we going?"

"Food."

I paused mid-step."...You paying?"

"Obviously."

"Oooh~why didn’t you say that first?"

Joey gasped like I’d committed a terrible cri. "Oh my God. You’re so easy."

"Poverty does that to a person," I replied, resuming my stride. "It recalibrates your priorities very effectively."

Honestly, once the prospect of free food was on the table, every other concern evaporated instantly. Survival instincts, dignity, and the vague feeling that I should really go ho and study what I missed, all vanished. I was already plotting what I’d order.

Ten minutes later, we found ourselves in a small burger joint just off-campus, the air thick with the sll of grilled at, fried onions, and enough grease that I was pretty sure it could shave a few years off your life and I ant that as a complint to the place.

Which, honestly?

Totally worth it. Every ti.

As soon as our food arrived, I practically lted into the booth, my body recognizing the semi-horizontal position and starting to shut down. Joey watched lift my burger with the satisfaction of soone who had rescued sothing precious from a bad situation and was savoring the mont.

"There he is," he said proudly. "My starving scholarship student. All fed and accounted for."

I pointed a fry at him with what little energy I had left. "One day I’m going to be rich purely out of spite."

"I fully support your journey."

"I’m serious. Disgustingly wealthy. I’ll own three vacation hos and drop lines like ’money can’t buy happiness’ at dinner parties while my guests munch on food that costs more than my current monthly inco."

"I want an invite to those dinner parties."

"You set our dorm on fire," I reminded him. "You’re on a probationary basis."

Joey laughed, sipping his drink without a care in the world.

For a little while, our conversation stayed light and wonderfully silly in that easy way it always did between us, where nothing had to an anything and everything was just background noise in the best way.

Joey shared a story about a guy in his economics class who accidentally emailed a shirtless gym selfie to the entire discussion group instead of the professor, and I almost choked on my fries from laughing.

Apparently, the professor responded with a single thumbs-up emoji and moved on, which either showed extraordinary professionalism or complete emotional detachnt. Honestly, I respected both.

I hadn’t realized how much I needed this. Just sitting down sowhere warm that wasn’t a hospital corridor or my too-quiet apartnt, eating real food, and talking to soone who treated like a person instead of a minor nuisance in an otherwise tidy environnt.

Then Joey’s expression shifted slightly, subtly changing the way it does when he moves from friend mode to sothing more serious, when he’s actually tuned in rather than just hanging out.

"So," he said casually, reclining against the booth with his drink in hand. "How’s Preston Hall?"

I focused intently on my burger, giving it all my attention. "Fine."

"Oliver."

"It’s fine."

"That’s what people say when they don’t really want to say what it actually is."

I sighed heavily, setting my burger down like soone resigned to the fact that this conversation was happening whether I wanted it to or not. Unfortunately, Joey had known long enough to see through every version of "fine" I ever tried, even the convincing ones.

"It’s just..." I hesitated, trying to find the right words to describe Damien without sounding completely unhinged. "Weird."

Joey winced. "Oof."

"Yeah."

"He still doing the creepy silent rich guy thing?"

"You an existing?"

Joey laughed, genuinely.

I rubbed my face before groaning softly into my hands. "He has actual written rules, Joey. Printed ones and handed to like a legal docunt on day one."

"I know, you told ."

"One of them literally says no attempts at friendship." I looked at him.

Joey snorted into his drink hard enough to set it down. "That’s insane."

"THANK YOU!" Finally! Soone gets how dumb this whole thing was.

"And honestly, kinda iconic."

I stared at him, feeling pure, unfiltered betrayal. "You’re the reason I’m suffering in boredom. You put here."

"You’ve, a ho though."

I blinked, living with a cold guy like Damien didn’t feel like ho. "Debatable."

I suppose I should also be grateful I had a place to stay, even if the person I shared that with acted like I was a roach.