Sam and Sage are next-door neighbors with an almost-four-year strong rivalry that peaks when they both apply to be Professor Olekev's Research Assistant. Unlike other professors, Olekev only chooses one student to study under her for their last two...
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⤚ an excerpt ⤙
Sam is standing outside of Sage's door.
He's never been in his apartment and now that he's thinking about it, Sage has gone to lengths to keep it that way. He knocks once, decides fuck it, and then keeps knocking because he doesn't care, and he's simply not taking no for an answer. Not when his clothes are sopping wet and his hairs dripping water into his eyes.
Sage answers the door, opening it only wide enough for his body to fit between it and the frame. He rakes his eyes down Sam and its dirty, almost the way he checks him out. Sam lets him, not moving an inch, until Sage's questioning gaze meets his.
"I locked myself out and fucking Jerry won't be back till tomorrow," Sam says. Sam is nearly certain if it was Sage who'd locked himself out, Jerry would backflip his way here from the Bronx to open the door for him.
"Unfortunate," Sage responds.
"Let me in asshole," he snaps with a roll of his eyes. He's not standing outside his door for his damn health.
"Don't you have friends?" Sage asks, raising an eyebrow tauntingly. Sam knows Sage knows he is the definition of friendless. And he's not going to shame him for it because that was a choice he made and he has no regrets. Except like right now because he really needs a change of a clothes and a place to sleep.
"It's pouring outside," Sam responds instead, like it should be obvious. He's soaked. It is obvious. "Look, I don't care if you're hiding several dead bodies in there or a my little pony collection or whatever thing it is that makes you treat your apartment like Fort Knox."
Sage stares at him for an uncomfortable amount of time and Sam thinks he's going to slam the door in his face.
Sam frowns and then says most meaningful, "Please."
Sage huffs loudly. "Hang on," he says and then he does shut the door on Sam. He returns eventually, taking his sweet freaking time, opening the door enough for Sam to step inside.
"Don't touch anything," he says.
Sam is distracted, eyes darting around his studio. "Yeah, you know, I was bursting at the seams to run my hands through your underwear drawer."
Sage is behind Sam, close enough that he bristles, then goes stiff. It doesn't help that Sage's voice has dropped when he says, "If you want in my pants, Sam, just ask."
