Could you do 55 or 129 with TJeff?
“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”
James Madison is a pretty nice guy, which is fortunate since he’s your roommate. Sure, he’s sick 90% of the year, but it’s rarely contagious, and he always buys his own Kleenex and cough drops. Unfortunately, his best friend Thomas Jefferson is not a very nice guy, and 90% of the time James is home, so too is Thomas.
“Don’t you have your own dorm, Thomas?” you ask when you catch him cooking your last box of macaroni and cheese (again!).
“If you keep askin’ me that,” he says, “i’m gonna start thinkin’ you don’t actually want me here, darlin’.” James murmurs an apology, but you still make sure to sneeze into the pot when he’s not looking.
It’s finals week when you see Thomas occupying your favorite corner on the sectional, but this time James is no where in sight. “You’re not allowed in here unless accompanied by a responsible adult,” you say dryly. When he just grins, you place your hands on your hips and tap your foot impatiently. “Seriously, where’s James? I need to study and that’s my spot.”
“James is in a final and my place is occupied,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You’re assuming that means that Eliza is over and Alexander’s locked him out, which is both irritating and amusing. “He said I could come over as long as I leave you alone.”
“Well, you’re failing.”
“C’mon, (Y/N), throw me a bone here,” he whines. “I’ll make you hot chocolate. I brought Red Vines. I even brought my own mac’n’cheese. Please don’t kick me out.”
Maybe it’s the absolutely pathetic look on his face that almost makes him endearing. Maybe it’s the promise of a giant bucket of Red Vines. Maybe it’s the combination of the pout and the bun and the glasses and the chunky magenta sweater. Or maybe it’s just because you’re too tired from studying all night to put up an actual fight – whatever the case, Thomas stays, and after he makes your hot chocolate, you even let him share the corner with you.
Three hours later, you put your textbooks and study guides off to the side for a break. As you reach over to grab another Red Vine from the bucket, you glance over at Thomas, who’s typing so furiously on his laptop that he doesn’t notice your observant gaze. He really is quite attractive, despite the pompous attitude and complete disregard for personal space. When he’s like this – drawn into his work – he’s not that bad.
“Takin’ a break already?” he asks.
“It’s been three hours,” you say, shrugging.
“Really? Shit.” He places his laptop on the coffee table and sighs as he removes his glasses to rub his eyes. “Are you hungry? I can make us somethin.”
“You mean mac’n’cheese,” you say, lips quirking upwards.
“Well, y–” He pauses when he turns to face you, his eyes widening. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?” You try to frown, but the way he’s grinning tells you it’s too late and you’ve been caught in the act. “Are we actually gettin’ along?”
“Woah, slow down there,” you say jokingly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jefferson.” He snorts, and you unconsciously smile (and he notices). “I’ll get back to you after lunch.”