Chapter Text
Art paused outside the door out of habit, listening for any suspicious non-roommate sounds; Ethan was single the last time they’d spoken, but you can only walk in on the man you love mid-coitus so many times before ‘taking precautions’ becomes a matter of survival.
No suspicious noises were coming through, so he decided to take his chances and enter the apartment. Depositing the stack of papers he’d carried home from campus on the counter, Art realized he must have beaten his roommate home today, his slippers sitting alone next to the entryway once he kicked them off. He shrugged and journeyed farther into the apartment, idly noting that he ought to change out his robe before he leaves next. Just as his hand landed on the knob of his bedroom door, loud voices spilled down the hallway and into the apartment as Ethan and his buddies crowded the entryway of the apartment.
“Art!” It had been 25 years and seeing Ethan’s face light up at the sight of him still made the firbolg’s heart skip a beat. Not for the first time he thanked the powers that be that his fur was too dark to reveal the rampant blush that overtook his face at the way Ethan said his name, even after all this time. He blinked placidly as he turned to acknowledge Ethan, though he couldn’t hide the way his ears rose at seeing his best (and only) friend.
“The boys and I are going bar-hopping tonight. Wanna come with?”
Art hesitated, sorely tempted to agree; he and Ethan hadn’t spent much time together recently, and he missed him. He promptly reconsidered when he saw the looks on the faces behind his roommate; after several instances of being systematically ditched, uninvited and ignored, even he could eventually take the hint that he wasn’t exactly welcome around the type of people Ethan hung out with. Not eager to face a repeat of last time, he declined, “I’m sorry man, I’ve got a paper to write tonight.”
It broke his heart to see Ethan’s face fall every time he said no, but it was better than getting beer “accidentally” spilled on his lap and being left with the bill as the others left while he was cleaning ip on the restroom. The worst part was having to explain to a hungover and hurt Ethan the next morning why he always “left early” and “didn’t like his friends”.
“Alright man, maybe next time!” Ethan’s mood righted itself too quickly for comfort as he grabbed his jacket from the couch and left with his buddies once more, their boisterous voices echoing down the hallway as they faded out of earshot.
“Right.” Art muttered to himself as he finally turned the knob and entered his bedroom, shutting the door on the still, empty quiet of the apartment.
His eyes landed on the picture frame perched on his nightstand, one of himself and Ethan from so many years ago, and his ears drooped. “Who am I even kidding, anymore.” He sat down heavily on his bed, picture frame in his hands as he stared down at it. “You’re never gonna feel the same way. This is pathetic.”
He looked down at their faces, Ethan’s beaming at the camera and his own besotted face giving his best friend literal cow eyes. “…Maybe I should move out.”