Chapter Text
As David watched the landscapes pass by his car window, and urban highway turned to farm fields and wooded areas, the reality of the situation started to hit home in a way it hadn’t before. The day had come at last, both dreaded and hotly anticipated, almost in equal measures. The life changing event that had been looming ever closer for months was finally at hand. His gap year was over, his extravagant (and overly expensive) trip to Europe was in the past, and it was time to get back to real life. It was freshman move-in day at the University dorm, and he was all packed up and driving towards this new and admittedly exciting chapter of his life. This was it. He could do this, he told himself.
This was, admittedly, not the way he would have planned his arrival for his first day. His parents were a lot , and he would have preferred them to be left out of any first impressions he was going to make as he moved his things inside. But alas, it was not to be. David had resolved himself to it by now, mostly because arguing any further would just worsten his punishment. And things were already bad enough.
David had, to put it delicately, overspent on his trip abroad. He didn’t really know how it happened, but he had discovered that his Black Card did , in fact, have a limit. And he had found it one day when he was settling his tab after a night of bottle service in a VIP lounge in Amsterdam. Johnny Rose had not been happy to receive the phone call David had been forced to make, needing to be bailed out with more money, despite having already put tens of thousands in debt onto his father’s credit card.
He really did sort of deserve this.
When his Father had become fully aware of the severity of the situation, he’d ended the Europe trip immediately. It had been seriously humiliating, and incidentally caused a really hot guy David had been casually dating to dump him immediately as well. He’d flown back home that same day, still half drunk off of absinthe, to await judgement and sentencing. He wasn’t going to get out of this that easy.
The Roses were wealthy, but not limitlessly so. His father ran a large and previously quite successful video rental company, though the world was changing and Rose Video was not bringing in the income it once did for the family. His mother still had a healthy stream of residuals coming in for some of the old made-for-tv movies she did back in the 80s and 90s, but even those were slowing down as the age of cable tv seemed to be drawing to a close as well. The Roses were not as rich as they once were, and David had spent far too much on his trip to Europe for Johnny to take sitting down.
He still didn’t know how it had happened, how he had gotten so carried away. But there were beautiful people everywhere, and they seemed to only be interested in him when he was buying them things. And it was so easy to buy things with the handy black charge card his Dad had so generously provided him. He just must have lost track at some point along the way how much he was actually spending. In the end, he’d racked up almost a hundred thousand dollars in debt, of which he had no means to pay back to his father.
But despite having no means to pay Johnny back, his father had to find the money somehow. He said he simply didn’t have the capital to cover this particular screw-up, and David had never felt worse. It seemed like his Dad was already stressing about money, and now he’d gone and blown a small fortune on himself. And he didn’t even have anything to show for it, other than some hazy alcohol and drug-tinged memories, an ill-advised tattoo, and a lingering aversion to absinthe.
He’d been all set to go to NYU for his first year of University, but the cost of tuition along with room and board in Manhattan was exorbitant, so that was the first thing to go. David had mourned the loss of his New York coming-of-age adventure like it was a death in the family, but he couldn’t seem to talk his way out of it. His Father had laid down the cost savings of sending David to a small liberal arts university in Ontario, not too far from Toronto, over the expensive and (in his words) unnecessary NYU.
He reasoned that David was still an undergrad, and he didn’t even have a clear direction of where he was going in life, or what he wanted to do. He was registering as undeclared , as well, which didn’t help his case. Johnny’s exact words on the matter were: “If you’re serious about NYU, you can prove to me you’re serious about this for a few years, and then we can talk.”
And that had been that. David didn’t exactly know where the few years had come from. Just one year of tuition at this school, combined with living in this dorm, sharing a room , using a meal plan, was enough to compensate for the money he spent in Europe. But Johnny was still angry, and it wouldn’t do to make it worse. But David was sure if he just towed the line for a while, he’d be in New York next year. He was counting on it.
So as they pulled into the Lady Eaton (the name of his dorm) parking lot, David took a deep breath, and once again resolved himself to what was about to happen next: Attending registration, and then moving his things into his room. With his parents. Ugh. He deserved this, he reminded himself, but it didn’t really help the pre-embarrassment he was already feeling at the thought of what Johnny and Moira Rose might do and say in front of his fellow dorm-mates.
“Oh David,” (which she pronounced Day-ved) “Why, this building is made of con-crete! Is this some sort of prison school for troubled youths?” His mother asked with an air of scandalized horror as they stepped out of the car, looking around at the campus before her. David actually thought it was kind of pretty, in a quaint sort of way. “Oh John , surely we must not be so destitute that we have to send our only son to a correctional institute? ”
“Now, sweetheart, the boy brought this on himself. And it’s not a correctional institute.” Johnny corrected, and David vaguely listened as he looked around. There were students all around, and people in yellow t-shirts with clipboards, pointing people towards a building with large windows across the lush green courtyard. “It’s a very respectable and affordable liberal arts university that is perfectly suitable for our currently directionless son.” His dad added, pitching his voice to aim those last words at David.
“It’s okay, Mom. It really is. It’s kind of pretty, too, in a poor sort of way.” David said, trying to calm her down, if for nothing else, to keep her from embarrassing him any further. She looked doubtful.
“This campus was designed by a very famous architect, Moira. I read about it in one of those pamphlets the school sent, when we chose the place. The concrete is supposed to contrast the nature around it, and the buildings were all designed to fit into and compliment the landscape around them.” Johnny added, trying in his turn to win Moira’s favour of the place. It would make the day go so much easier if she was on board and not pointing out every little thing to complain about.
And looking around, David could see it. The way the buildings both contrasted and fit into the lush green space around them. His dorm seemed to be nestled into the base of a tree-covered crescent shaped hill, and there were large stones worked into the grey concrete of the walls. There were trees and flowers and green spaces all around him, and he could hear a constant melody of insects buzzing and birds singing, and the constant rustle of wind in the leaves of the trees that covered the hill behind the dorm.
It was… pretty. In a way that was very foreign and more than a little uncomfortable for David. But it was pretty. He had to admit that. He just wasn’t used to being so surrounded by green space. The thought of all the insects that must be around, and the potential for wild animals was actually a little alarming. But, okay, it was really very pretty. He didn’t hate it. It could be worse. His Dad could have insisted he go to UofT or Ryerson so he could live at home and save money. But David was desperate to move out and get out from under his parents’ caring but unpredictable and at times manic attentions. At least David had won the battle to move out when he compromised and they came to an agreement on Trent University.
David didn’t even care that he was going to have to share a room, or that the dorm didn’t have any kind of cleaning or laundry services, or that he’d be eating cafeteria food for the next year. He had been this close to spending his freshman year living in his childhood bedroom, under the thumb of the father he had just practically financially bankrupted, and a mother that at times made Emily Dickinson look sane. So whatever Lady Eaton College had in store for him was better than that.
He wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he also sort of liked that Trent sorted their students into colleges, a lot like houses in Harry Potter. It was a stupid thing to be excited about, but here he was, hoping that Lady Eaton was the “Slytherin” of the Trent Colleges. He could have just as easily been sorted to Champlain or Otonabee or Gzowski, but he’d been assigned Lady Eaton when he’d been accepted at the school. That meant if he lived on campus, which he was doing, he would stay on their corner of the campus and live in their dorm. Though regardless of living in the dorms, he would always belong to the College, as long as he was enrolled at Trent.
Champlain was beside them, bordering the river, and across the picturesque bridge that spanned the Otonabee river there was the aptly named Otonabee College, and then Gzowksi beyond that. He was sure they were all bustling with new students arriving as well, every inch of the campus buzzing with nervous and excited energy. David could feel it, and he bit back a nervous smile. This was it.
Registration had taken almost an hour. They’d entered the line of new students outside in the courtyard, and had slowly followed it inside, up a short staircase, and then around and down into what David assumed was the cafeteria or mess-hall. There were groupings of tables and chairs all over the room, and he could see a locked pull-down door that he assumed would reveal counters and the food preparation area.
Moira had complained the whole way, and wondered loudly “to herself” several times about the availability of a VIP express line (there wasn’t one). But they’d eventually gotten to the front of the line. David had checked in, been assigned his room, and was given a branded tote bag full of a whole bunch of other branded items as well. David could see a lanyard, a coffee mug, a t-shirt, a door-sized white marker board, and some various other items.
Finally with a key and a room assignment, it was time to start moving everything upstairs. His father helped a little bit, his mother hindered more than anything, but eventually they’d gotten all of David’s belongings up into his room. The space was a little larger than he’d expected, but smaller than he’d hoped. The walls were a creamy off-white, and there was what was a probably ancient grey pile-less carpet. He made a note that he would have to obtain a small vacuum at some point soon, as he noticed it once again. He had completely forgotten to pack one.
One wall of the room was dominated by a massive pine wall unit, with two closets, shelving, and drawers. There were two twin beds on opposite sides of the small room, arranged parallel to each other and separated by an empty space only a handful of feet wide. There was one big, long desk that stretched across the entire back wall that had their only window.
David had swallowed a little nervously the first time he’d seen the beds. A complete stranger would be sleeping right there , and there wasn’t anything in the way of privacy. It felt so strangely intimate. But he reassured himself that this was just part of the dorm experience, and hoped against hope that his roommate wasn’t awful. He didn’t know what he’d do if he was stuck with some hygiene-challenged troglodyte.
Whoever they were, though, didn’t seem to have arrived yet. So David had chosen the bed to the right of the window after checking the compass app on his phone and determining which way was East. He wanted as little morning sunlight as possible, though he didn’t know what hope he had of getting to sleep in much, sharing such a small space with another person. After deciding on his side, it was time to start unpacking.
His parents had, unfortunately, insisted on staying and “helping”, though at this point they were getting in the way more than anything. It wasn’t a big room, and definitely not big enough for the Roses’ large personalities. His Dad just liked bossing people around, so he was enjoying calling out directions, mostly to things David was already in the process of doing. Like he wanted to take credit for the work somehow, or act like he was helping.
It drove David crazy, and he wanted to snap at the both of them to just hurry the fuck up and leave, and stop telling him to do things he was already doing. But he didn’t, because he was trying to be on his best behaviour in hopes that they’d leave some cash behind when they finally did leave. And he guessed he sort of also appreciated their attention, in an extremely pathetic sort of way.
“Yes, good, I think that’s a good spot for that.” Johnny said, as David placed a framed photograph of himself and Carly Rae Jepsen when she played at his sixteenth birthday party at the Docks. It didn’t really have all that much sentimental value to him, but he had to put some pictures out that weren’t just of himself, and frankly, David didn’t have all that many friends he cared to commemorate in a framed display. Frames were special. Frames meant something. And David just didn’t have that many frame-worthy friends these days.
It wasn’t that he lacked for company, but he did lack companionship. There were always people around, but no one ever seemed to really care about him, to ask about him, unless he was the one reaching out or offering to pay. The Toronto rich-kid prep-school scene had been vapid, materialistic, and vicious. As gross and lacking in amenities as this dorm was, David found he’d rather be here than back there, with them. Which was saying something. Because David did not want to be here right now. He was supposed to be in New York, not Peterborough.
When he’d gotten dragged back from Europe by his proverbial ear, not a single one of those bitches had called to see if he was okay, or to offer to start footing the bill now that his cash flow had dried up. Not a single fucking one. Train tickets, bottle service, private chefs, making out on the beach in Ibiza… none of it mattered to any of them. That’s why, despite having an amazing collection of photos from his trip, of him in beautiful places with beautiful people that would surely impress anyone who saw them, he wasn’t going to display them. Those assholes weren’t frame-worthy. But Carly Rae? Sure. It was the best he had, and he wasn’t about to put up photos of his parents or sister like some fucking weirdo. If anything, people would see this picture and ask about it and it would be a conversation starter.
When he was done, David looked around and found that there wasn’t much left to do. He had made his bed, unpacked his clothes, set up and plugged in his laptop and paired it with his wireless speakers. He saw there was a built-in desk lamp, so he plugged in the one he'd brought from home and placed it on the shelf by his bed. He didn’t have much in the way of decorative items, but he’d placed a potted plant on his side of the desk, his Slytherin snow globe on his bedside table, and had a few knicknacks on his dresser. All that was really left was putting up his posters, but he wasn’t in a huge rush to do that.
“What’s next?” His Dad piped in, clapping his hands and rubbing them together like he actually planned to do something, despite there clearly being nothing left to do.
“Nothing but my posters, but I don’t need your help with that.” David replied, thinking he had actually survived and that maybe they would finally leave on their own. And they hadn't even done any irreparable damage done to his reputation, he didn’t think!
“No, no, I’m happy to help, son.” His Dad replied, and David furrowed his brow a little. It was almost like his Dad didn’t want to leave. Was it possible they were going to miss him? His Mother, sure, but Johnny too?
“Yes, David, I think it wise to cover as much of this insipid cream wall as soon as possible. Oh it’s so jejune, it’s like a prison cell! I can’t leave here before I know you will have some colour in your life.” His Mother added, and David rolled his eyes.
“Ok, well, I can put them up on my own. It’s not a three person job.” He objected, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. He knew it would be useless anyways.
“ Tsk tsk David. Don’t eschew our help so quickly! As they say, three heads are better than one. ” His mother replied.
“It’s two heads are better than one, and I’m fine.” He retorted.
“Don’t correct your mother, David.” His Father cut in, and David bit his lips to stop from arguing back further. He was supposed to be on his best behaviour, he reminded himself.
“Okay, sure.” He said in a falsely bright voice, but his facetiousness seemed to go right over his Mother’s head, because she smiled brightly in reply.
So there he found himself, twenty minutes later, holding a poster of vintage leather jacket-wearing sex-God, George Michael up against the wall, and having both of his parents shouting directions on the correct place to stick it.
“A little to the left.” His Father instructed, and David inched the poster over.
“Up! Up, David!” His Mother cried, and David took a deep, calming breath and moved it up by a half inch. “Not the whole thing, the right side.” She corrected, and David fought the urge to scream.
“Well you didn’t say that , did you?” He snapped back, and lowered the left side just a hair.
“There!” His mother said, and he pressed the blue gum-tack against the wall to stick it in place. He didn’t like the stuff, he would prefer to frame his posters, but they weren’t allowed to put holes in the drywall, which David found ridiculous. But the last thing he wanted to do was lose his damage deposit when he was already in trouble enough about money.
When he stepped back to look at the placement, it was clear his parents had no idea what the hell they were talking about. In the entire time they’d been doing this, they’d only managed to hang one other poster (a sexy one of Mariah with a rainbow across her boobs, a photo shoot she’d done for gay pride), and this one was nowhere near in line with it. “Are you both insane ?” David asked, horrified, feeling incredibly OCD about the misalignment, the sight of it making his skin crawl.
“It looked different when you were holding it, you must have moved it.” His Dad argued back.
“Yes, this configuration is all wrong, take it off and move it down.” His mother added, and this time David didn’t repress his groan of frustration.
“The blue stuff is getting less sticky!” He complained, but reached up and carefully pulled it free of the wall.
“Ok down, down--no, too much. Up, up.” His Dad instructed, and David dutifully followed his instructions, carefully repeating the mantra of they’ll be gone soon in his head, and trying not to lose sight of his remaining hope that his Dad would be generous with his parting gift of cash.
“Tilt! Tilt!” His mother urged.
“Which way!?” He wailed back at her, utterly frustrated at her continued vaguity. He wasn’t even convinced it needed to be rotated at all, and that instead she just liked hearing the sound of her own voice. Instructions for instructions sake. Never one to be left out of the spotlight.
“The other way, of course.” She replied, and David felt a shudder go through his entire body as he controlled his frustrations.
“ Which way is the other way !?” David replied, his voice rising and turning a little shrill even to his own ears. He twisted from where he stood on his bed facing the wall, to look down at his parents, intending to glare at them, give them his most withering death-stare. But he froze half-way, eyes going wide as they caught with those of a very cute guy that was leaning against the doorframe, watching with an amused smile playing at his lips. “Oh…” David said, lamely, feeling a tidal wave of embarrassment wash over him.
“Sorry to interrupt.” The stranger said, but he didn’t move to leave. Or look very sorry, either, for that matter.
“Ummm,” David said, having no idea how much he’d seen, or what to say . He was clearly struggling, freezing in an extremely awkward way, very aware of the presence of his parents. But the stranger, who was wearing a blue zip-up hoodie over some band t-shirt David couldn’t make out and some very straight-leg heavy denim jeans, just continued to stand there. Confident as can be. And he was smirking. Who was this guy?
“Hi, I’m Patrick.” He said, still holding David’s eye, before turning to look briefly at both of his parents. Then he looked back at David, and that little amused smile was back. If David wasn’t crazy, it was almost teasing. But this person was a complete stranger. What kind of overly self-confident psychopath would be teasing someone they’d never met before? But David still felt a small, shy smile want to pull at his own lips in response, so he bit down on them from inside, pursing them and narrowing his brows to control his features. “So I guess that’s my bed?” The stranger who was named Patrick added, pointing at the bed across the small space.
And David’s stomach suddenly felt like it was doing an acrobatic act and he felt a nervous flutter in his extremities. This was his roommate. This guy. This smirking, Old Navy sweatshirt-wearing, handsome, confident boy was going to be sharing a room with him. Sleeping feet away from him. They were going to be living together. David, and Patrick. Patrick… the hottest, but most obviously straight guy David had ever met on such short acquaintance. Even in the 30 seconds since his arrival, David knew that. He was wearing mountaineering boots , for God’s sake. Oh well, David thought, at least he’d have some eye candy, even if it was a ‘look but don’t touch’ type situation.
He realized perhaps a bit too late that Patrick was waiting for an answer. David had thought it might be more of a rhetorical question, considering David’s bedding was on this one, and he was literally standing atop the mattress sticking posters to the wall. Or trying to, rather. So he nodded a little raggedly and tried to find a smile that resembled something a friendly, normal human would wear. “Oh, mmhmm.” He said, not trusting himself to say much more.
Patrick leaned down and with a little grunt of effort, lifted up a very full and heavy looking hockey bag, shouldered it, and dumped it unceremoniously onto his bed. Then he returned to the hallway and grabbed a tall laundry basket that seemed to be stuffed with sheets, a comforter, and a pillow, and set it beside the bed. The Roses all watched in silence as he efficiently and confidently moved the items from the hallway, his parents blessedly quiet for the first time perhaps in his entire life. Patrick apparently only had the two things, so when he’d set the laundry basket down, he turned towards them and smiled.
“Well, you pack light.” David managed to say, because he had to say something. And Patrick’s smile widened.
“I have a few more things down in my car.” He replied, shrugging, and there was that smirk again. “You need any help?” He asked, his tone casual and friendly, but still David got this strange impression that he was being teased. And he didn’t know if he liked it or not. But he sort of liked it.