me: i should write the next part of the liper college au

my brain: uh huh uh huh. valgrace

this is kinda old (2019) but was practically finished in my drafts, and i loved it so much i thought i'd post. enjoy!

Leo's little dorm room looks like this—twin bunk beds shoved up against opposite walls, a desk at the foot of each. A dresser and two sliding-door closets built into the wall across from them, and one nightstand under the window. There's a mini fridge perpetually humming from where Jason had shoved it under his bunk, and bins of clothing under Leo's. It's not a mess yet, but Leo thinks they still have time.

"Are you done yet?" Jason asks, and he says it from his bed in the moonlight, the muted blues winking off of his frames and curving across the glass in his eyes. He sits on the pale blue sheets and not under them, tablet in his lap; one of his feet is dangling off of the bed, kicking back and forth.

"Not yet." Leo licks his lips. His eyes keep straying from his paper. He's at his desk by the door and his hand keeps tapping his pencil against the edge of the wood, the words on the page all mushing together. He tries to put his shaking hands to good use and reaches over to turn on the desk lamp, cursing softly when he glances back over. Jason's gold, now. Gold and pink and blue.

Leo feels his face heat up when he catches Jason already staring at him. "Do you need help?"

"I'm good." Leo's voice comes out a little too high-pitched and his throat is very dry. He snaps his gaze back to the paper and curses again. The mattress behind him dips and his whole body locks up, gone rigid, the pencil sliding in his sweaty hand and the Engineering homework as unnavigable and unintelligible as ever.

There's a voice at his ear and a hand at his back, both with an air of timidity and warmth.

"You know...no one said you can't do it when we get back."

Leo fights not to shiver. The touch retreats and the warmth leaves with it.

"But if you're really busy—"

Leo whirls around. "No! I'm not, I—it's fine." He tries to catch Jason's gaze, but those blue eyes are suddenly refusing to look at him and his peach skin is even pinker. Leo stands and makes a show of slamming his book closed. "Seriously! We can go. I'll just do it when we get back."

Jason looks skeptical. "Maybe tonight isn't the best night to go out."

Leo scowls. "You said that last time!"

"Keep your voice down." Jason hisses, and then both of their faces are a matching shade of red when muffled voices and footsteps pass by down the hall outside the door. "If you have things to do, it can wait. I can—" he grunts. "Look. I'll just go somewhere else. I don't want to distract you."

"You're not distracting me." Jason's words have conjured up enough bravery in Leo that he finds it in him to guide his shaking hand to Jason's arm and leaves it there, squeezing, hoping it's more reassuring than it is a tell of his nerves. "If you leave, I'll just think about you. And if you stay," he licks his lips, "It'll probably be the same. We should just go now, before one of us loses our nerve for the fiftieth time. We can't be anything if we don't—"

Leo doesn't get to finish because Jason's kissing him.

Never mind, he thinks, and they become.