Roommates With Benefits [BL]

•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•

As soon as I stepped into Jeremy’s penthouse, I was struck by the realization of two things...one, that there was no party and two...that having money didn’t necessarily equate to having good taste.

Then there was the overwhelming smell...a mix of alcohol, perfume, and bad decisions. It filled the air, sweet and evoking the feeling of a perfume ad that got soaked in the rain but still decided to throw a bash.

The place was massive, which was no surprise, given Jeremy’s family had enough cash to make a standard home seem downright embarrassing.

Windows offered a view of the city, with high-end furniture scattered around, and surfaces polished to the point where they probably cost more than everything I owned put together.

Below, the city lights twinkled softly, almost politely, in stark contrast to the mayhem happening inside.

But all that elegance was overshadowed by the pulsing purple neon lights, half-empty bottles, discarded shirts, and what looked like the remnants of a party that had fizzled out a few hours ago without the furniture getting the memo.

An abandoned shoe rested upside-down on a glass table, as if it had just given up in mid-conversation.

Music thumped softly from somewhere within the apartment.

I took it all in.

"So this is where all your dignity comes to die," I said.

Jeremy shot me a narrowed glance, Damien looked at me, and I shrugged.

"What? Just making an observation," I replied. "A fitting place for a disgusting piece of shit."

"You always have something to say," Jeremy muttered with an amused smile.

"It’s part of my job," I shot back.

"Not sure which job that is," he countered.

"Just being myself," I said, and Damien fought a smile at that.

Jeremy caught it and his expression darkened at that.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, directing his question at me.

"No," Damien replied flatly.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn’t asking you," he said.

"I don’t fucking care," Damien shot back.

The atmosphere became tense, as though the neon lights were leaning in to catch every word.

Jeremy’s smirk returned, though it lacked its usual confidence.

"Still so controlling," he quipped.

Damien didn’t reply; he simply fixed Jeremy with a steady gaze, the silence seemed to make Jeremy uneasy, making him shift his weight.

I’d seen Damien angry before, but this was different.

He wasn’t pacing or shouting or issuing threats. He stood there, his hands relaxed at his sides, his face almost expressionless, and somehow, that was much more intimidating. It was the kind of quiet that made everything else in the room feel suddenly out of place.

Jeremy cleared his throat. "So what exactly do you want?"

I dug into my bag.

"The truth would be a great start," I said, pulling out the envelope Melanie had given me and dropping it onto the coffee table.

The photographs slid slightly.

Jeremy glanced at them, and for a split second, something flickered across his face.

Recognition, then it was gone.

"I don’t know what those are," he replied coolly.

I stared at him, disbelief etched on my face.

"You don’t?"

"No."

Damien leaned in closer to the table.

"Interesting," he said, picking up one of the photos.

"I have no idea why you’re here," Jeremy said, folding his arms defensively.

Damien placed the first picture down and picked up another. "This one was taken outside Preston Hall."

Jeremy’s eyes fluttered for a brief moment.

"And this was taken near the university library," Damien said, moving to the next.

"And this one was outside Joy’s Café."

I could see Jeremy’s jaw tighten and I watched him closely.

The guy was slick. He had that innocent look that could fool anyone, even while he was committing a crime right in front of them.

It was a practiced innocence that probably worked well on those who hadn’t spent months figuring out just how deceptive a charming smile could be.

A textbook narcissist.

But Damien, it seemed, was immune to that kind of nonsense.

"You’ve been following us for months haven’t you?" Damien said, his voice steady.

"No," Jeremy refuted.

"Melanie confessed," Damien pressed.

That got to him.

I could see a change wash over Jeremy’s features.

His bravado slipped just a little.

"You spoke to Melanie?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.

"Tonight," Damien replied.

Jeremy chuckled awkwardly.

"She’s lying," he said.

"Why would she lie?"

"Because she’s obsessed with Oliver," Jeremy said, looking at me.

A chill settled in my stomach.

"You really want to go down that road?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes.

Jeremy seemed unfazed.

"What?" he asked.

"You pretended to be my friend while secretly taking pictures of me and Damien and blackmailing his family with it." I said.

"I never called us friends."

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "You sat across from me every week while I tutored you."

"You thought I needed tutoring," he replied, defensive.

"You did need it!"

Jeremy smirked, "Oh, so cute that you think I actually needed those lessons."

I rose an eyebrow, what did he mean he didn’t need those lessons? He was failing!

Then I paused...unless, he wasn’t and that was another ploy to get closer to me.

Damien’s gaze didn’t waver from Jeremy.

"How much did you make?" he asked.

Jeremy fell silent.

"How much?" Damien repeated.

Jeremy scoffed.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he said.

"The Lockwoods got demands for millions," Damien said, noting Jeremy’s flicker of concern. "How much have you taken in total?"

The smile faded from Jeremy’s face, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed with Damien’s ability to insult at a steady volume. It was like a well-placed paper cut.

"You really thought you could accuse me without any evidence?" Jeremy challenged, glancing between us.

I pulled out another photograph.

"We’ve got evidence," I said, placing it on the table.

His expression hardened as he looked at it.

"You’ve got pictures," he said dismissively.

"Pictures you took," I countered.

"You can’t prove that."

"Melanie can," I said, holding my ground.

"Again, she’s nothing but a liar," Jeremy insisted.

I regarded him coldly.

"You’re running out of excuses," I said.

His eyes shifted to Damien, and the way he looked at him sent a shiver down my spine.

Then Jeremy smiled, but it wasn’t the same smug grin from before.

It was a twisted, ugly smile.

"You know what? Fuck it." he said quietly. "I always knew she’d crack eventually anyway."

My heart sank, Damien stood completely still. Jeremy chuckled softly.

"She was so desperate to get you back that I hardly had to twist her arm," he continued.

I was stunned.

"You used her," I said, my voice trembling with anger.

"She wanted revenge," Jeremy shot back. "And I gave her one, that’s all."

"Because of you and him," he said, gesturing toward Damien.

"Mostly him."

Damien remained unflinching.

"Explain," he demanded.

Jeremy leaned against the table, his gaze locked on Damien.

"I don’t think you comprehend how long I’ve waited for this," he said.

"Waited for what?" Damien asked.

"For you to finally lose something," Jeremy said, and with that, a chill swept through the room.

His grin widened.

"You’ve always had everything," he continued.

"The family, the money, the respect...everyone looked at you like you were some perfect fucking prince! But I know the real you, Damien. All rotten inside." He laughed bitterly.

"And you couldn’t even acknowledge me," he spat.

I felt lost. "What do you mean?"

Finally, Jeremy’s gaze met mine.

"You thought this was about me falling for you?" he asked.

My gut twisted.

"I don’t understand," I replied.

"Of course you don’t," he said, his eyes roving over me like I was an afterthought.

"You’re nothing but a poor rat, you would never understand what Damien and I had."

Oddly enough, his words stung more than I anticipated. They landed with precision, like someone laying a knife down gently instead of throwing it.

What Damien and Jeremy had?!

What the fuck did that mean?!

Damien’s tone dropped dangerously low as he warned, "Choose your next words carefully, Jeremy."

Jeremy ignored him completely.

"I never wanted you, Oliver," he said, his gaze locked on me. "Who I was actually after all this time was..."

Jeremy trailed off, his eyes landed on Damien as he chuckled.

A cold feeling seeped into my bones die to the realization.

"You were just a means to an end," he said. "A way to get close to the two of you, to figure out where you both were, what you were doing, who you trusted."

Damien took a step forward and Jeremy’s smile transformed.

"So that’s what this is all about." Damien spoke as if it had all become even clearer to him. Damien’s voice dropped to a dangerous level. "You’re sick, Jeremy."