The House

✨ Interlude | The Bedroom

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A few months previously . . .

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Dave quietly walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Ethan was already in bed, reading, like always. It was Monday, which meant lights low, book in hand, exactly by nine. The routine never changed.

Dave couldn't imagine living like that. It was so... structured. Sensible. Stable. Maybe that's why it never occurred to him to do the same. Sharing a room made it glaringly obvious how differently people went about life.

No one ever raised him. No one taught him life skills. Everything Dave knew, he figured out on his own. And watching Ethan—so tidy, organized, responsible—sometimes made him feel like a walking disaster.

Ethan had clearly been raised right. And it showed.

Dave tossed his stuff onto the shelf by his bed, then flopped onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling. The room felt smaller than it used to. They'd had to move the dresser into the hallway to make space for both beds, and now there was nowhere to dump his things. Not that he was complaining. No rent? Sweet deal. But it was still weird.

They'd been rooming together for about a week. Out of everyone in the house, Ethan was definitely the best option. Dave liked Morgan and Liam... in small doses. No way would he survive sharing a room with either of them.

Ethan, at least, was quiet.

Dave was still trying to figure him out.

He knew Ethan read a lot. He knew he had a nine-to-five—his first real job out of college. And that Liam teased him constantly by calling him "mom." But that was because Ethan was kind of a mom... Always looking after people, whether they wanted him to or not.

He was the first one awake every day. Made the coffee. Cooked breakfast. Even if no one asked. Even if you told him not to. He just... did it. Because he cared. And because, apparently, breakfast was important.

Dave also knew Ethan had just started working in social services. It made sense, almost too much sense. Ethan was born to take care of people. It was like second nature.

He was a sweet, overly responsible twenty-one-year-old guy. And now Dave was sleeping in the same room as him.

And he still didn't fully get why.

Why let him stay here for free?

Ethan didn't seem to mind the noise, the mess, or the chaos. He was practically adopting three messy queer roommates into his parents' old house like it was a passion project. And he liked it.

Dave didn't get it.

"How was your Monday?"

Ethan asked him about his day every single night.

At first, it annoyed him. It felt invasive, too familiar. But after a few days, he realized Ethan wasn't just making conversation. He actually wanted to know.

That part took the longest to adjust to.

Ethan looked over at him with the same gentle expression, waiting for his answer.

"Dave..." His smile was growing. "How was—"

"Fine."

Ethan laughed quietly and kept his eyes on his book.

He was probably laughing at the one-word answer. Whatever.

"Okay... what did you do?"

Dave sighed. "Uh, not much. Just had one class late this afternoon. Lifted weights, played piano, went to class. That's it."