Jake rapped on Damien’s door again, not sure why he wasn’t answering. He had replied to a text just a few minutes before, so Jake knew he was awake—

“Sorry!” Damien’s voice echoed down the hallway. “I was trying to beat you back, but the line was ridiculous.” 

Seeing Damien carrying two coffees from Redband, he smiled. Damien handed one cup over to Jake, rummaging  through his pocket for the keys. 

“Thank you,” Jake said fervently as they entered the small apartment. 

Walking toward the kitchen, Damien turned with a sly grin. “You’re so easy.” 

His chest still ached, the grief a constant echo, but Jake tried to focus on the present as best as he could. “Yep. Buy me a coffee and I’m all yours.”

Damien smirked. 

“No, but really,” Jake continued, “I’m going to be here all day because I have two essays I need to write.” 

Laughing nervously, Damien peered over his shoulder. “You’ve at least started them both, right?” 

“Oh, my young Padewan, you have much to learn.” He really couldn’t help the sarcasm this early in the morning. “Of course I haven’t started them yet. I thrive on the fear of procrastination.” 

Damien almost choked on his coffee from laughing so hard. 

“And, let me guess, you also have a full accounting assignment on top of that?” He wiped tears from his eyes, still laughing. 

“Obviously. I make lots of bad choices,” Jake acknowledged with a nonchalant shrug before staring intently at his coffee. “Can I ask you a personal question?” 

Pausing just for a moment at the abrupt change of conversation, Damien nodded. “Yeah, go for it.”

“Who did you lose?” Jake didn’t want to push too hard, but he was curious. 

Damien’s smile was bittersweet. “My dad. When I was fourteen,” he said softly. 

Moving next to him, Jake leaned against the counter by Damien’s side. “I’m sorry.” 

“I miss him every day,” Damien admitted quietly. “How— how did you know?” 

Jake eyed him for a moment. “Because you looked like you had seen a ghost when we walked through the cemetery yesterday.” 

Taking a deep breath, Damien let it out slowly. “It was a rough time. Brought back a bunch of memories.” He peered across the room. “Everyone expected me to be all grown up about the whole thing. Which was messed up, looking back. And I had to help with my siblings a lot. They were ten and eight at the time, and my mom was struggling. Hard. She still does. So I felt like I just lost my dad and my teenage years all at the same time.” He seemed relieved to say it out loud, but then his shoulders fell. “That probably makes me sound selfish.” 

“What? No!” Jake’s emphatic response startled Damien. “That sounds like you were forced to grow up too fast while you were grieving. That’s hard.”

Damien ran his fingers through his hair. “People usually get weird when I talk about him,” he admitted, looking pained. 

“People get weird about a lot of stuff.” 

“True.” Damien‘s smile was still sad. “Thanks for listening.” 

“Any time,” Jake said, reaching over to squeeze his arm. “And now, the homework.” He set down his empty coffee cup with a sigh. 

“The homework,” Damien echoed. “Yay.” 

Several hours later, Jake groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I’m gonna go raid your fridge.” 

“Okay. Grab me something?” Damien had quickly gotten used to Jake’s study eating.

Poking around in the refrigerator, Jake squinted at some Chinese leftovers, trying to remember how old they were. He popped the container in the microwave after a moment of deliberation. Digging in the freezer, he grabbed a frozen burrito for Damien, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth to set it on a plate. 

“You done with both your papers already?” Damien asked, coming up behind him. 

“Not yet. One down, one to go.” Jake stifled a yawn. “I can’t write while I’m hungry.” 

“You can’t do most things while you’re hungry,” Damien pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s true.” He fidgeted with his fork for a moment before changing the topic. “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“Just homework and sleep. Why?” 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s a four-day weekend?” 

“Oh! Right! I forgot all about it, honestly,” Damien replied, saving his burritos from a fiery demise. 

“I was thinking about going home for the weekend”—Jake bit his lip—“and, umm, if you want, you could come with,” he offered, only turning a light shade of pink in the process. 

When Damien was quiet for too long, Jake peeked up from his food in concern. He wasn’t trying to cross a line but, even if they were nothing more than friends, this should be a relaxing trip. 

But Damien wasn’t upset at all. He was grinning, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Sounds great. As long as you’re sure it’s okay with your parents,” he tacked on, though it was clearly an afterthought. 

His mom had been so stressed about Jake’s lack of college friends since the accident that she might burst from joy when he told her. “Trust me. They’ll be thrilled. My brother, less so.” He shrugged. “It’s not a great bus ride, so I don’t go very often, but they’re going to visit my Grandparents over spring break which means this is my last solid chance to visit until the end of the semester.” 

Damien frowned, quickly taking a bite of food before he spoke. “You know I have a car, right?”

“You what?” Jake froze, accidentally dropping some lo mien on the floor in his surprise. 

“Yeah. I mean, it’s an old beater, but we can drive if you want.” 

No longer hungry, Jake set his fork down as his stomach tangled in knots. “Okay.”

Damien moved directly in front of him, leaving nowhere to hide his sudden panic. “What is it, Jake?”

Taking a shallow breath, Jake swallowed hard. “This was a car accident,” he said, motioning to his missing arm. 

Without hesitating, Damien wrapped him in a hug. “If it makes you more comfortable, we can take the bus,” he offered, his words brushing gently across Jake’s neck.

Despite the comfort of Damien’s embrace, Jake couldn’t get his muscles to relax. “Can we decide later?” 

“Of course. Are you okay?” Damien watched him carefully as he stepped back. 

“I’m fine,” Jake mumbled out of habit. “I need to go finish my paper.” 

Catching his hand before he could walk away, Damien rubbed his thumb over Jake’s wrist. “You don’t have to be fine.”

“But I do have to finish this paper,” Jake deflected. 

Damien sighed but let it go. 

————————

“Let’s take your car.” Jake rushed the words out as soon as Damien stepped foot in the Lit classroom on Wednesday morning.

“Okay.” With some obvious misgivings, Damien settled into his seat. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure I’ll be stressed no matter what.”

Damien studied his face for a long moment. “You seem… tense. Well, extra tense. What’s wrong?” 

Leaning his head back against the wall to avoid Damien’s probing gaze, Jake huffed out a sigh. “You’re going to think I’m crazy and paranoid if I tell you.”

“Well, I already think you’re crazy, so you don’t have a lot to lose,” Damien countered, amusement obvious in his tone. 

“No one has hurt me in the last week and I don’t know why.” 

In the painful silence that followed his statement, Jake waited a moment before he dared look over at Damien. All traces of teasing had left his face, replaced with deep worry lines that seemed at odds with his normally cheerful disposition. 

“I’m probably just overthinking,” Jake said in a vague attempt at reassurance that did nothing to calm his own fears. 

Their conversation was cut short when one of their classmates entered the room, but the weight of his stare through class was enough that Jake knew he wasn’t about to forget the conversation any time soon.