Chapter Text
When it rains, it pours, but Dean wasn’t familiar with that saying. All he cared about was that his long-time roommate was moving out.
“Shit,” Dean said after thumbing through his phone and tossing it on the couch. His cousin Jaime watched as it bounced off and fell on the floor with a clatter. “My roommate wants to move out.”
He was hoping she’d renew for another year since she’d already gone through his vetting process and had proven to be an ideal roommate: private, on time with bills, and mostly absent. His heavy work schedule left him drained every day, and he had no interest in socializing at home. His perfect night consisted of an empty apartment without a sign of another human.
He’d live alone if he could afford it. Despite being a steal for the location, the rent for his two-bedroom was still too high. No amount of shifts at the coffee shop, restaurant, or studio would cover it. Considering that moving was expensive too, it was cheaper to find a new roommate, but finding one that met his criteria was difficult.
He glanced at Jaime and for a second considered asking if he knew anybody, but Jaime hardly had a reliable network, though the same could be said for himself. Collecting his phone from the hardwood floors of his beloved apartment, Dean thumbed through his address book for leads. Maybe he could put flyers up around the local college, but he was looking for a long term commitment.
“Why’s she moving out?” Jaime asked absently. He re-folded his legs underneath him as he returned to browsing his phone.
“She decided to move in with her girlfriend,” Dean replied. He figured it was inevitable, since she didn’t seem to enjoy living here, and often gave Dean a wide berth. He would miss that.
“Let me set you up with somebody,” Jaime said with a half-shrug. When Dean wrinkled his nose at him, he continued, “You can trust me , cousin.”
“I can , but will I?” Dean asked, squinting his eyes at him. He laughed when Jaime threw a pillow at his face.
“You ass,” Jaime said. “Don’t shut me down like that. When I bring someone, just talk to them. It’s not going to hurt you.”
“Talking is what I don’t want roommates doing,” Dean said. “The reason my roommate was so great was ‘cause she minded her business.”
“Well, your business is everywhere, so don’t expect too much,” Jaime sniped back.
Dean stopped himself from replying. Dean’s job was a touchy subject, and if Dean argued against his cousin’s help, then Jaime would chew him out for thinking he was too good for Jaime’s social network. That was his default response, choosing to be offended rather than considering Dean’s point of view.
Instead, Dean answered with silence, choosing neither to accept or refuse his help. Despite his hardheadedness, he was fond of his cousin, and in fact, trusted him the most, but was often reminded that he had had no choice in family members.
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His roommate’s exodus was short and clean. As she carried a final box downstairs, Dean’s polite farewell was met with a stilted grunt. He wasn’t sure if it was meant for him, or if she was just struggling with what looked like a heavy box. It didn’t occur to him to help her until she was well out of sight, but it wasn’t as though they had a relationship.
Dean crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame, briefly weighing the pros and cons of having a friendly roommate, then decided their distant arrangement worked just fine for him. He took out his phone to see if anyone had responded to his ads, scattered all through the internet.
One read, can i share the room with my bf???? Oh God no, Dean thought, unable to handle more than one stranger in his space, much less navigate the particular rules of living with a couple.
Another, i know you said long term, but is 6 mo okay??? when can i see the place? This made Dean grimace. Sure, they were free to ask, but trying to worm around his firm requirement didn't make a good first impression. It was hard to believe they’d meet his other expectations.
Then a message pinged in from Jaime, who wrote, hey you in? I see ur roommate moving out already.
yeah , Dean replied out of habit, but he was feeling a bit lonely anyway. He went back into the apartment to fix himself an orange, banana, and kale smoothie with a generous dollop of peanut butter for comfort. He was pouring himself a glass when he heard Jaime at the door, and smoothie in hand, he opened it.
Jaime hadn’t mentioned that he was bringing someone, so when Dean opened the door, he immediately passed over Jaime’s face to look at the man standing behind him. The meek, thin-shouldered man seemed surprised that Dean focused on him as if he assumed he would be ignored.
“I found you a roommate,” Jaime piped up, leaning over to intercept Dean’s gaze.
“Just someone off the street?” he asked, moving aside to let them in.
“Nooo,” Jaime replied with a playful but impatient tone. “He’s a friend. You wanna show him around?“
Unwilling to let Jaime control the pace of this meeting, Dean introduced himself with a warm smile. “So yeah, I’m looking for a roommate. You’re looking for a place…?” He stopped on a lilt, giving the stranger the opportunity to speak.
The man shrugged, giving Jaime a look as if waiting for a cue. “Yes, he is,” Jaime said, hooking an arm through the crook of the other man’s elbow. “He’s Connor by the way.”
“Okay, well, Connor , sorry about the mess. My roommate just moved out,” Dean said, ignoring Jaime. He then pointed out the lay of his land, describing the kitchen as ‘modern and sparkling,’ the living room as ‘cozy and warm,’ and his room as ‘his glorified closet.’
Last they walked into the master bedroom, which was spacious despite the leftover clutter. Seeing Connor eye the sliding glass door, which led to the balcony outside, Dean spent a minute trying to dislodge it open. Previously, his roommate had placed a cabinet or some other heavy furniture in front of it, so it was never used. It seemed to bother her that the balcony connected her room and the living room. Probably better for her that she left, Dean briefly thought.
“You don’t,” he began before grunting, “have to use this, but it’s an option.” He wrenched the door open and let Connor and Jaime out.
“Can I smoke here?” Connor asked, surveying the view and speaking freely for once.
Dean was disappointed, tallying the harmful side effects of second-hand smoke in his head, but when Connor’s eyes met his, he noticed that they were a striking jade-green. “Yeah,” he reluctantly replied, wondering if Connor would be a nice, quiet roommate. “As long as you keep it outside.”
Connor fidgeted before asking, “Can I smoke now?”
“Sure, we'll give you a second,” Dean said, snatching the moment to yank Jaime back into the house, shutting the glass door behind them.
“What do you think?” Jaime asked as Dean gave him a dirty look.
“Thanks for the heads up,” Dean hissed, crossing his arms. “You can’t bring whoever you want, whenever you want. Can I at least get a heads up?”
“No,” Jaime said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You want him. He’s fucking loaded.”
Dean raised his eyebrows at the unexpected intel. “What?”
Pulling at Dean’s shirt and relishing that he had his attention, Jaime continued, “Yeah, he’s been living in a hotel just because . A whole suite to himself and everything.”
Dean had no idea that people could do that or even imagine hotel rooms so nice that you’d want to live in them. When he traveled for work, he was usually put up at cheap motels or he had to couch surf. “Then why is he here?”
“‘Cause I asked him to be your roommate,” Jaime said with a triumphant flair and Dean was impressed that there was something he didn’t know about his cousin. Usually, his social circle consisted of exotic dancers and hardcore clubbers, not a rich trust fund baby. Not that they were mutually exclusive, but Connor seemed to be withdrawn -- not all Jaime’s type.
Still, it clinched his interest and he took Jaime’s proposal more seriously. After Connor let himself back into the house, they gathered in the kitchen around the granite island.
“So, how do you like the place?” Dean asked in a pleasant tone, to hide his newfound curiosity. Connor shrugged, glancing at Jaime as if for approval.
“Didn’t you want a roommate?” Jaime replied, directing his question to Dean. “I got you a roommate.” Jaime’s smug smile annoyed him, but Connor looked more promising. His wealth was certainly a positive, and his withdrawn personality implied he’d stay out of the way. The smoking was a negative (who even smoked anymore?), but Dean conceded he had to make some compromises. Finally, if it didn’t work out, it was always good to have something over his cousin.
“Ideally I’d want you on the lease,” Dean said, ignoring his cousin, “but because you know Jaime, I’m okay with subletting for a few months, just to see how you like it.” He smiled, trying to hearten Connor, who focused on the grain of the stone counter. As a sign of acknowledgment, he shrugged again. Dean gave Jaime a sideways look, skeptical that Connor would follow through and do as Jaime ordered, but Jaime looked awfully confident that Dean would accept him and that Connor would move in.
Dean crossed his arms on top of the counter and stared at Jaime, trying to figure out his motives, but spoke to Connor, “So, you wanna try it out?”
Their eyes met briefly. Then Connor glanced at the big, bright tattoos emblazoned on Dean’s arms and sank his gaze right back down to the counter. “Okay,” he said with another thin shrug, his chin almost touching his chest.