The One That Got Away

Chapter 5

After that, things move quickly. It didn’t take much to get his parents to fax over the consent forms to let their son move off campus during his freshman year; his mother didn’t even attempt to hide her relief when he explained that he’d like to get some more company. If she suspected that Oliver was actually moving out in a clever ploy to party away his education, she did a damn good job of hiding it, so Oliver didn’t even bother giving the courtesy assurance that he wouldn’t party too hard, and he would keep up with his studies.

Ty set up a meeting between Oliver and the owner of the house, and Ty was completely right; Fred Jones seemed like a very cool guy; he had a friendly smile and a laidback attitude similar to Ty’s that immediately made Oliver relax, yet he took care to emphasize that he cared about his tenants. He told Oliver that while the houses he owned and rented out to students weren’t exactly modern bungalows, he made sure they were safe.

The contract was straight-forward and detailed everything from insurance needed (renter’s insurance required) to pet policies (pets allowed by request), and Oliver had no worries or concerns left when he signed his name on the dotted line.

The next Sunday evening, Oliver loaded up his truck, folded himself into the driver’s seat, and drove the few blocks over to 4th. Everything he owned fitted neatly in the back of the car, his computer taking up most of the space, and he got everything moved into the room upstairs in only three trips. Most of the stuff that had been in the house he’d shared with Monique had been sold or given away when he moved away to collage. This was a new start.

Ty was nowhere to be found when Oliver moved in, but he left Oliver’s key underneath one of the dirty couch cushions on the front porch–and lifting up the worn fabric wasn’t nearly as disgusting as Oliver had thought–and there was a note on the kitchen fridge.

Oliver,

Sorry I couldn’t be here. Help yourself to anything you want in the fridge; I’ll be back late.

– Ty.

“We must learn to live together as brothers, or perish as fools.” -Martin Luther King

The quote seemed like an oddly sappy touch, but Oliver liked it. He stared at the note for a minute and swallowed against a lump in his throat. He had a roommate now. A roommate who apparently thought enough about Oliver to leave him a note on the fridge. It felt nice, and it took a moment for Oliver to realize that his face felt weird because he was smiling.

Oliver had never had issues getting up in the morning. When his alarm went off, he shut it off, then rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got out of bed. The floor was cold underneath his bare feet, and he shivered once, shuffling across the bedroom and into the bathroom across the little hallway. He shaved in the shower and turned his face into the spray, the water just this side of warm enough. He shivered again as he got out and took a deep breath while he dried himself off. Just another day. He could do this.

Ty was probably home by now, even though Oliver didn’t hear him come in last night, and Oliver wasn’t certain about roommate protocol. He desperately wanted to find a middle road; not just be two strangers who just happen to share a house–and definitely not new BFFs, joined at the hip, either. Somewhere in between. Friends.

Oliver could be friendly, couldn’t he?

He had friends before, Oliver thought as he pulled on a clean pair of underwear and socks. Hell, he had friends. It’s just that he happened to live pretty far away from most of them, and he played video games with them instead of going out for a beer or a movie. Besides, if any of his friends from the game had lived nearby, they probably would get together and do non-game things. He thought. But as it stood, they were spread out all over. Even Skywalker, who was in the same state, was a good eight or nine hours from Oliver. So yeah. Their friendship was only limited by a lack of geographical proximity, not because they were all anti-social and couldn’t keep regular company. They were just a bunch of normal people who enjoyed the same hobby.

As the arguments ran through his head, Oliver knew this was nothing to be ashamed of, not really, but he still couldn’t help the little rush of embarrassment that flooded him as he pulled on a pair of jeans and his favourite t-shirt. It felt a little bit too much like making excuses to himself for his own behavior, and hell–wasn’t more human contact the whole point of moving in here in the first place?

The house was still quiet when he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Looked like Ty wasn’t awake yet. He might not have class until later on, or not at all that day. Regardless, Oliver tried to be as quiet as possible as he set about making himself breakfast.

He was just shutting off the coffee maker and pouring milk over his Lucky Charms, when there was a loud creaking, then shuffling sound from behind him, and he turned in time to saw Ty half-walk, half-drag himself into the kitchen.

Ty was wearing loose boxers, thick socks and an extremely oversized sweatshirt with the hood pulled halfway down into his face, but Oliver could still see that the other man’s eyes were still mostly closed.

“Good morning,” he tried.

Ty just grunted, something that might had been a Nngh, or possibly a Fbuh, not pausing the slightest as he blindly reached out for the pot of coffee. Not even glancing up once–maybe without even really opening his eyes–Ty reached up and grabbed a cup from the cupboard above the sink.

“There’s fresh coffee,” Oliver offered, but he didn’t have to say anything; Ty was already pouring himself a cup of coffee. It was an odd sight, and Oliver couldn’t decide if it was adorable or disturbing that Ty had apparently perfected the art of sleep-walking to his morning coffee.