"Hey, you know man, if you're not comfortable with this, I'll ask for a room switch," Link said. "I totally get it. I won't be upset or anything, I promise. You deserve to feel comfortable in your own room as much as anybody."
"No, it's fine," Michael insisted, wrapping the blankets more around his waist, he hadn't been able to get dressed yet. "Honestly, it's probably better this way. The fewer people I have to explain my situation to, the better. I would have preferred if you'd found out some other way, but . . ." soft pink rose into his cheeks. "But either way, now that you know, you know, and I don't have to have this conversation again today."
"Are you sure?" Link stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.
"Yeah, I um . . . I only got my diagnosis last year, so it's still kinda new to me and I don't even understand it very well yet, and I'd like to keep it under wraps as much as possible." Michael bit his lip and gripped the blanket tightly. "I just, I don't want other people to . . ."
"I get it," Link said, and nodded sympathetically. "I've been there. Well, not exactly there, but somewhere around there. I promise I won't tell anyone. You don't even have to ask. But if there's anything I can do to help you, just let me know. Why don't you get dressed while I go get my stuff out of my car." He moved to open the door again, but Michael stopped him.
"Wait!" he said, and stretched out a hand for a moment, before snatching it back, like he'd touched something too hot. "Um, before you fully move in, I just wanna say, um . . . I'm not like Sol. I'm straight, so if Sol makes a move on you—"
"I won't reciprocate," Link said, even though it stung a little. He could understand where Michael was coming from and respected him, but he couldn't help being a bit disappointed.
"No, I mean. I don't mind that much, but I know Sol can't keep his—my?—hands to himself, so I just want to establish some ground rules, I guess."
Link raised his eyebrows, surprised. He hadn't exactly met a lot of straight guys who 'didn't mind that much' but 'just wanted to establish some ground rules.'
"Alright, sounds like a plan," Link said. "I'll respect any boundaries you put into place. Let's talk about this more when you've got some clothes on though. I'm gonna go grab my stuff outta my car."
When he got back upstairs with his first box, Michael was dressed and making his bed. When he returned with the second box, Michael was on his phone, checking his email. When he arrived with the third and final box, Michael was sitting cross-legged on his bed, looking at Link intently.
"So, I take it you wanna talk about those ground rules now?" Link suggested. and took a seat across from Michael on on of his boxes which barely supported his weight.
"You know I didn't really notice at first because I was distracted, but you're really tall, huh?" Michael said, still staring at his new roommate.
"Almost six foot," Link answered.
"Almost?"
"I'm three quarters of an inch shy."
"Ah." Michael nodded and turned his gaze to the floor for a moment, before looking back at Link, like he had to force himself to make eye contact. He was obviously nervous about having this conversation. "So..." he began, but then said nothing for nearly a minute.
"I can start if you want," Link offered. "I've got a few boundaries of my own."
"Yeah, sounds good."
"Alright, firstly, despite anything you may or may not see, I promise I am not a witch or a cultist or anything like that, and would appreciate it if you didn't make any assumptions like that. I don't mind if you ask questions or whatever, but you don't need to freak out about it or anything. It's just a hobby of mine."
"Like, tarot cards and astrology? That kind of thing?"
"Exactly that kind of thing."
"I'm not a big fan of astrology lately," Michael admitted, twisting his fingers in the hem of his shirt like he wasn't sure what to do with them. "I'm a gemini, and there was this one girl I was talking to that kept trying to convince me that my DID was just because of my star sign and not an actual disorder."
"That . . . sucks. I mean first of all, that's just a terrible translation of gemini, and second of all, what's your birthday?"
"Uhh . . . June first."
"You're a taurus," Link told him after a moment of thought and Michael blinked in confusion. "Most people follow traditional astrology, in which case you would be a gemini, but you were actually born under the constellation taurus, astronomically speaking, so the next time someone asks, you can say you're a taurus and avoid that nonsense."
"Really? I didn't even know there was a difference."
"Yeah, my little sister's a huge science geek, so she showed me all the official NASA star charts and all that. I've been using them ever since, just 'cause I like 'em better. Sometimes, the signs don't change, sometimes they do, astrology was always vague and unhelpful anyway. But you know, I'm a pisces and gemini is a very incompatible sign for pisces, but taurus has a high compatibility with pisces, and since I feel like we're gonna be pretty good friends I think taurus suits you better."
"Alright, I'll use that, thanks."
"Glad I could help you out," Link said smiling at him for a long moment before realizing that there was a purpose to their conversation. "Oh, right we were talking about boundaries. My only other one I don't think will be much of a problem, but I don't like people joking about mental institutions or calling me crazy or stuff like that. I've always been kind of a weirdo, and I know that, but that kind of thing just hits a nerve."
"Noted, I can do that."
"Great, your turn."
"Oh." Michael pressed his lips together for a moment. He looked like he was collecting his thoughts. "I think I can sum it up with, keep your clothes on and your hands above the waist when your with Sol, and please don't make a move on anyone but him because I don't know how that might turn out. He could get pissed, they could freak out, just, make sure your know who you're talking to and if you can't tell, ask or assume it's me. They'll introduce themselves when they're ready."
"I think I can manage that. Honestly its more lenient than I was expecting. Exactly how many of you are there?"
"Besides me, there are about four that I know of, probably a couple more that I don't, but only two that really front as far as I know. Like I said, I'm kinda new to this stuff. I'm getting more used to it, but I don't know anything."
"Front?"
"Oh, fronting is what it's called when you're controlling the body. For example: I'm the one fronting right now, but Sol was fronting last night."
"OK, I get it. So it's you and Sol and who's the other?"
"BlueJay, but you probably won't meet them for a while. I don't think they like people."
"Noted." Link nodded, committing all his new roommate had said to memory. It was really important to him that he was able to uphold all these conditions, especially after his huge blunder the previous night, even if Michael was clearly trying not to make a big deal out of it. "Is there anything else? Words I shouldn't use, or triggers I should avoid? Seriously, I'd rather you tell me now than I find out later because I accidentally fucked up."
"Don't comment on my eating habits. Don't ask about what happens during therapy. Don't ask about my family. Don't make jokes about suicide or wanting to die or anything like that. I'm really not a fan of fatalistic humor. Some of us don't like being touched, so be mindful of that, and please stop me if you think I'm about to do something dangerous or stupid because it's probably not me and I don't want to wake up with a broken leg or something and not know how it happened again." It seemed to Link that Michael really wanted to get this conversation over with. He spoke very quickly, barely pausing for breath.
"Alright, I think I got all that." Link's eyes lost focus as he concentrated on processing Michael's requests so he could properly follow them. "Yeah. I can do that no problem. Thanks for letting me know."
"Really? You don't think it's too much?"
"Of course it's not too much. We're gonna be living in close quarters until the summer at least, so it's important to set clear boundaries right away. Besides everything you said was pretty simple, when you think about it. Specific things that don't even inconvenience me to avoid. If you had said something really weird like, 'you have to walk on your hands every Saturday for the entire day', I probably would have called for a compromise, and not just because I can't walk on my hands, but things like, 'don't ask too many personal questions' and 'don't touch me without asking' are completely reasonable, and don't trouble me at all to follow."
"That's awfully accommodating of you."
"No need to sound so suspicious." Link chuckled. "Like I keep saying, boundaries are important for everyone to have and follow. Anyway, I've seen a lot weirder triggers. My best friend can't drink hot cocoa because that's what the police gave him the morning his parents died, and my Aunt Harley has a full-on hissy fit if you step on plants."
"I feel like you shouldn't have told me those things. Aren't they personal?"
"Nah, it's fine," Link waved a hand dismissively. "The thing about boundaries is they can't be followed if you don't tell people about them. You're probably never gonna meet Lio or my Aunt Harley, but if you do, you should know not to serve hot cocoa or step on plants. If I introduced someone to you, I would tell them not to ask anything too personal or touch you without asking. I wouldn't tell them about your DID, because you asked that I didn't. That's how boundaries work . . . is that OK with you?"
"Yeah . . . yeah, that's fine. It's just hat nobody's every cared before."
"Yeah . . . I've run into that too."
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