Jon had always liked quiet.447Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt1r7CPwHcs
The kind of quiet that hummed after midnight when the city finally gave up its noise, when the fridge’s low hum was the loudest thing in the room. He thrived on stillness, on order his neatly stacked books, his meticulously labeled spice rack, the clock ticking in rhythm.
Which was why Leo was hell on earth.
Jon didn’t even know how the guy got approved as his new roommate. He’d answered the ad late, breezed into the apartment tour twenty minutes behind schedule, and somehow talked the landlord into smiling. That should’ve been Jon’s first red flag.
The second was the way Leo actually moved in.
No slow trickle of boxes, no careful measuring of shelves. No—Leo arrived like a hurricane. A pile of duffel bags, a blaring speaker playing pop music, and him—grinning, sunglasses still on though it was cloudy outside—bursting through the door with the kind of energy Jon thought only belonged to toddlers and caffeinated TikTok stars.
“Hellooo, roomie! Did you miss me?” Leo declared, tripping over his own bag and sending it crashing against Jon’s carefully lined shoes by the door.
Jon blinked once. Then again. He was holding a carton of eggs. He seriously considered dropping them on the floor just for the symbolism.
“You’ve been here,” Jon said flatly, “for twelve minutes. How could I possibly miss you?”
Leo pushed his hair back dramatically, dropping his sunglasses onto the kitchen counter without a care for the water rings. “You say that, but I can tell. Deep down, you’re thrilled.”
Jon set the eggs into the fridge with the patience of a saint. “Deep down, I’m reconsidering every life choice that brought me here.”
But Leo didn’t hear him—or pretended not to. He was already exploring, poking through cabinets, tugging open the silverware drawer. “Wow, you’re… organized.” He said it like it was a crime scene.
“Some of us like not living in chaos,” Jon muttered.
Leo spun around, grinning, and Jon immediately regretted looking. The guy had a kind of smile that was dangerous wide, bright, like he’d stolen sunlight and bottled it behind his teeth. It was annoying. Distracting. Infuriating.
And Jon hated how his stomach twisted at the sight.
Act 1: Collision Course
Living with Leo was like hosting a tornado that never left.
He was loud. He sang in the shower—badly. He left mugs half-full of coffee in random corners of the apartment. He talked constantly, as if silence physically pained him.
And yet, somehow, he had a way of getting to Jon.
Like the morning Jon was trying to eat cereal in peace. Leo stumbled out of his room shirtless, hair sticking up like he’d wrestled with his pillow, yawning as though the world revolved around his exhaustion.
Jon immediately glued his eyes to his bowl. The milk was fascinating. Riveting, even.
“Morning, roomie,” Leo said, voice husky with sleep. He grabbed Jon’s spoon and stole a bite straight from his bowl.
Jon snapped his head up, scandalized. “That’s mine.”
Leo grinned around the spoon. “You don’t share? Harsh.”
Jon snatched it back, scowling. “We are not sharing saliva before eight A.M.”
“Aw, you’re no fun,” Leo teased, stretching like a cat before rummaging for his own cereal.
Jon buried his face in the newspaper, willing his cheeks not to burn. He hated how easily Leo made the air feel different, warmer, charged.
Act 2: Sparks
Weeks blurred together.447Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡODqxIr8VNH
Jon tried to keep his distance. He scheduled his study time around Leo’s chaos, wore headphones, avoided the living room when Leo had friends over.
But Leo had this uncanny ability to find him.
One late night, Jon sat at the kitchen table surrounded by notes, half-asleep over his laptop. The apartment was quiet, mercifully so, until the bathroom door creaked open and Leo wandered out, towel slung low on his hips, damp hair dripping trails onto his bare shoulders.
Jon froze mid-sentence. His brain stopped processing English.
Leo blinked at him, amused. “Burning the midnight oil again?”
Jon coughed into his hand, glaring at his screen. “Some of us have exams. Not that you’d know.”
Leo chuckled, padding closer. He smelled like soap and shampoo, like warmth and comfort Jon didn’t want to admit he craved. He leaned over Jon’s shoulder, close enough that Jon felt the heat of his skin.
“Wow. You type like an old man,” Leo teased. “So stiff. Relax your fingers.”
Jon shoved him lightly away, panic twisting in his stomach. “Don’t hover.”
Leo raised his brows, smirking. “Why? Am I distracting you?”
Yes. Absolutely. Completely.447Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwzpiuCuKW6
Jon’s pulse was erratic, his thoughts scrambled. He hated how true it was.
“Go put on some clothes,” Jon muttered, but his voice lacked bite.
Leo just grinned wider and sauntered back toward his room, towel threatening to slip. “You like me better this way, admit it.”
Jon’s fist clenched around his pen so tightly it nearly snapped.
Act 3: Breaking Point
It all came to a head during a storm.
The power went out just after dinner, plunging the apartment into darkness except for the occasional flash of lightning outside. Jon tried to keep busy, lighting candles, pretending the storm didn’t bother him.
Leo, of course, treated it like an adventure. He sprawled on the couch with a flashlight under his chin, telling ghost stories in an exaggerated whisper.
“Stop acting like a child,” Jon said, shoving a pillow at him.
Leo grinned. “You’re just scared.”
“I’m not ”
A sudden crash of thunder shook the windows, and Jon flinched. Leo’s smirk softened, just slightly.
“Hey,” he said, gentler now. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”
Jon scowled, embarrassed. “I don’t need your comfort.”
But Leo stood, closing the distance between them anyway. His flashlight cast strange shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes.
“You put up this wall all the time,” Leo murmured. “Cold, sarcastic, untouchable. But I see through it.”
Jon’s throat tightened. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough,” Leo said, stepping closer. “I know you care more than you want to admit. I know you notice me.”
Jon’s chest rose and fell too quickly. The air between them was electric, humming with something unspoken, unbearable.
“Leo…” he warned, though it sounded more like a plea.
And then Leo kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. It was heated, messy, years of frustration packed into one desperate collision. Jon’s breath hitched, his hands fisting into Leo’s shirt without thinking, pulling him closer instead of pushing away.
Leo groaned softly against his mouth, deepening the kiss, and Jon’s knees nearly buckled. The storm outside raged, but the real storm was here—in the space between them, in the way Jon gave in so completely to someone he claimed to hate.
The kiss grew rougher, hungrier, until Leo pressed him against the wall, their bodies flush. Jon gasped, shivering at the feel of Leo’s hands on his waist, grounding and reckless all at once.
Jon hated how much he wanted more. Hated how alive he felt in Leo’s hold.
“God, you drive me insane,” Jon whispered against his lips.
Leo smirked, breathless. “Good. Because you’ve been driving me crazy since day one.”
And with that, Jon let himself drown in him.
(Fade to black.)
Act 4: Morning After
Jon woke to sunlight streaming through the blinds. His head was foggy, his lips still tingling, his body aching in ways that screamed of the night before.
Beside him, Leo sprawled carelessly, one arm thrown over his eyes, breathing slow and steady. His hair was a mess, his mouth curled into a faint, satisfied smile.
Jon’s heart lurched. Panic, warmth, disbelief all tangled in his chest.
He tried to slip out of bed quietly, but Leo stirred, blinking open one eye.
“Morning, sunshine,” he drawled, voice still thick with sleep.
Jon froze halfway off the mattress. “…Don’t call me that.”
Leo grinned lazily. “You liked it last night.”
Jon’s face burned. “Shut up.”
Leo sat up, stretching, his grin widening as he studied Jon’s flushed face. “Admit it. You like me.”
Jon crossed his arms, scowling. “You’re unbearable.”
“And yet,” Leo said, leaning close, brushing a kiss against his cheek, “you’re still here.”
Jon’s chest tightened, but this time he didn’t fight it. He sighed, defeated. “God help me.”
Leo laughed, warm and genuine. “You don’t need God. You’ve got me.”
And somehow, to Jon’s own surprise, that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.