United States

Bored Washingtonian who thinks 60 degrees is hot
An INTP-A / INTP-T apparently??
My response to how was your day will always be
I'm a meh person, what can i say

Message to Readers


Reagan and Caspian agree to go to a football game for some extra socialization, but it’s hella cold out and Reagan gets s i c k. Caspian, despite still being suspicious from the fang incident, takes care of him. Any recommendations for what else should happen? Specific scenes? Any dialogue?

Reagan and Caspian Series: Part 4

February 19, 2021


   Reagan was tired of dino chicken nuggets and Nutella toast. He understood that with only a mini oven and a microwave in their small dorm, their cooking options were minimal, but really? Frozen food was getting on Reagan’s nerves. So when he had plopped down on the couch wondering what he could scrounge up for dinner and a perfectly timed add played on the TV screen? He had never been so grateful that Caspian left the TV running.
   Reagan was quick to pull out his phone, ordering for Caspian since he was wasting away at the library. Poor kid. With only a few button clicks, food was on the way. Reagan loved technology. 
   Books would be the death of Caspian, he was sure of it. I mean, did college libraries really need to be as big as they were? Caspian had been idling through shelves looking for a book that could give him some inspiration on a thesis. He really wasn’t looking forward to writing any papers. I thought math didn't involve essays, he thought miserably. 
   After what seemed like hours, and actually was, he finally gave up on his search, he resolved that he would scroll endlessly through Google later that night. That was bound to yield some results. 
    He walked halfway across campus, another reason why the library was so terrible, and finally got back to his dorm. He couldn’t hear anything when he walked in so he called out. 
   “Reagan!” He sing-songed, “I’m hoooome.”
   “What are we, a married couple?” Caspian could hear from the kitchen area. 
   I wish, Caspian thought, but instead said, “Luckily not. Just roommates.”
   “And they were roommates,” Reagan mumbled, barely audible to Caspian. His eyes widened, even though he knew it was a joke. Caspian was hopeless. 
   After returning from placing all his bags in his room, he went to join Reagan at their tiny table, which could’ve passed as a nightstand. Reagan was sitting on one side with a mug of coffee glued to his lips, several boxes strewn across the surface of the table. Caspian froze.
   “What’s this?”
   “A nuclear bomb,” Reagan deadpanned.
   “Idiot,” Caspian didn’t miss a beat, instead sliding into the chair opposite his roommate. “What is it really?”
   “Food. Precious food that hasn’t been microwaved or frozen.”
   Caspian acted surprised, throwing his hands in the air for good measure. “Oh, the heavens have truly blessed us now. That, however, doesn’t explain why it’s sitting on our table.”
   “I robbed someone at knifepoint.”
   “Ah, and you won I see. Hope they have good taste.”
   “Mhm, they even had your favorite kind of pasta. Lucky, shortstop.”
   Caspian smirked, “Thank you, Reagan,” he teased before opening a container.
   Oh god. Oh dear. I made a mistake. 
   Caspian’s face was screwed up in bliss as he ate his pasta noodle by noodle. Nerd, Reagan thought. That didn’t stop him from staring, however. 
   Caspian, Reagan concluded, was a special soul. Pure wasn’t quite the right word, he thought, remembering when he cussed out some jock in Calculus for shoulder checking Reagan. He’s more…
    “Thank you again,” Caspian interrupted his thoughts. “This was really nice.”
   Reagan blinked and cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. You thirsty? I’m thirsty, one sec.”
   Reagan left the table so quick that his chair nearly toppled over, but he hooked the corner right before it could fall. He mumbled something incohesive before leaving the room, heading for the bathroom.
   “What drinks are you having that are in the bathroom?”
   Reagan huffed out a laugh, reaching the bathroom and opening the cupboard beneath the sink. He gripped the neck of a bottle before returning to the table.
   Caspian watched as Reagan clunked a bottle in the center of the small table.
   “Is that…”
   “Grape juice.”
   Caspian was staring intently at Reagan, but his roommate just snorted. Huh?
   “I really can’t take you seriously with a little twisty noodle help halfway to your mouth. And that disappointed look… are you a dad? You leave a child at home?”
   Caspian scoffed. He still placed the noodle down though. 
  “No,” he responded. “I’m gay. Can't exactly have children with a man.”
    There was an awkward stretch of silence as Caspian’s words registered to his own ears.
   That was a mistake.
   This changes everything. 
  They sat in silence for much longer than Caspian thought was necessary. Or maybe it was, he thought, I did just shock myself. God, I really need a filter. 
   “Okay,” Reagan said, stuffing some bread into his mouth before saying, with his mouth full, “that’s fine cause. You know. Me too.”
   Caspian choked on a noodle. Not his proudest moment. 
   “Oh,” he managed, “that’s cool.”
    Reagan blinked very slowly at Caspain before cracking up in laughter. 
   What a train wreck, was all Reagan could hear in his mind. That and unadulterated panic. Definitely not gay panic though. Definitely… not. Despite the laughter spilling from his mouth, he was actually quite surprised. What a train wreck, his mind repeated. 
   Reagan did manage to reign in his laughter to see Caspian’s slightly blank face. He could never quite read him right. 
   “I, uh.”
   Reagan waited expectantly for his roommate to continue. 
   Reagan huffed out a laugh, “No, don’t be. That was uh. An interesting twist to the night.”
   “Talk about it,” Caspian mumbled. “I could use that ‘grape juice’ right about now.”
   “I can get behind that.”
    And Reagan took the cork out of the bottle. 
    Caspian forgot what he was doing. 
    Oh that’s right. Have to answer Reagan… What was the question again?
   “Are you drunk?”
    “I’m moderately functional.”
    “I’ll take that as a yes then,” Caspian heard, not bothering to lift his head from the table. He had never gotten drunk before, so naturally, he was a lightweight. Very lightweight, in fact. A few glasses of wine later and the world spun.
    “Why would you give this to me?” Caspian heard himself whine. Did I say that?
   “Cause you asked for it, shortstop.”
   “You’re supposed to be the one with common sense, though.”
   “Don’t know where you heard that,” Reagan responded, suddenly much closer. 
   Caspian forced his head up, squinting as though tired. Reagan had a bucket of ice cream in his lap and he was peeling the plastic from the lid on the opposite side of the table. Capsian watched as Reagan popped off the lid. He watched as a strand of Reagan’s frustratingly long hair fell loose from the bun he had contained it in. Caspian watched as Reagan opened his mouth to eat the ice cream. 
   Capsian jolted out of his seat. 
   Reagan thought Caspian, in his drunken stupor, had fallen out of his chair. But the look on his roommate's face said otherwise. Capsian was leaning heavily on the door frame positioned directly behind Caspian’s chair, and Reagan watched as his face distorted into disbelief and fear. What had gotten into him?
   “What are you staring at, shortstop?”
   Reagan checked behind him for spiders, but nothing was there. Caspian was just… freaking out. 
   Reagan opened his mouth to ask again before Caspain said, “Teeth. Your teeth. You have fangs.”
   Reagan had always thought books were crazy when they described certain reactions. “The blood drained from their face” was always one of them. He could cross that off his list, however, because all the blood truly went and left Reagan’s face. 
   Terrified wasn’t quite the word you could use for Reagan’s current state. His heart raced, as did his thoughts. He pulled his mind together for snippets, but couldn’t quite grasp what his roommate had said. 
   “What did you say?” He choked out. 
   Caspian just barely waved in his Reagan’s direction as a response. 
   Reagan ran his tongue over his teeth, noticing the obvious bulge of fangs. He was screwed. His drunk roommate had just caught…..
   His drunk roommate. Drunk. 
   Reagan laughed. Caspian could hear a note in the sound that told him it was forced, but his muddled mind couldn’t retain or connect that information to anything coherent. All he knew was what he saw. 
   “Caspian, you little idiot. I swear, sometimes you don’t even need to speak to make me think you’re out of your mind. Fangs, shortstop? Really?”
   “I swear…,” was all Caspian could manage.
   “You’re drunk. You probably shouldn’t be swearing.”
   Caspian found himself thinking for a long moment. He was drunk, wasn’t he? And terribly so. So much so, in fact, that the floor had started to tip. When Caspian didn’t respond, Reagan continued. 
   “Probably just your mind making things up. Now,” he said, and Caspian watched as Reagan smiled (was it forced [the smile was painfully fangless]), “you want some ice cream?”
   Caspian continued to rely on the doorframe and racked his brain for any sensibility. He couldn’t quite find any. 
   Reagan wore concern on his face like makeup. It was so obviously fake, or perhaps it was worry for himself, Caspian couldn’t be sure. He was only aware of two things. The fact that he had seen Reagan open his mouth wide and the unmistakable presence of fangs greeted him, and the floor was suddenly the wall. 
   Caspian passed out and Reagan had never been so grateful for someone’s loss of consciousness. Logically, he should be packing up and running far, far away from here. But Reagan’s mind became a roadblock. 
   What if Caspian wakes up and only remembers coming out to me? What if he thinks I ditched him because he’s gay? That could ruin him… but he could ruin me. 
    He looked at Caspian, splayed across the floor. He should leave. He should go home to his father and Varcy, head back and apply for a different school. Caspian would forget about Reagan sooner or later. But the question was: would Reagan forget about Caspian?
   Reagan made his decision.
Once again, sorry for any awkward spacing, docs really does hate me. BUT, let me start with a sorry, this is pretty long and probably boring so my apologies. Uh, it’s also not edited so sorry again. (I desperately want a beta reader but I can’t be bothered... unless, I mean, one of y’all...) I also strayed a little from the synopsis, so maybe those shouldn’t be trusted. If you reached this point, congratulations for sticking with this. 


See History
  • February 19, 2021 - 11:01pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

  • Paisley Blue

    HDFOAIGFYAH AHHH this is so good!! :D can't wait to read what happens next!! :D

    3 months ago
  • Quiet One

    The back and forth between these two has left me dizzy, but in the best way possible! Also, the quick Vine reference absolutely made my day :)

    3 months ago
  • Halopoet

    Oh and btw, i love reagan. Just a bit too much.

    3 months ago
  • Halopoet

    OoooOOOOOFFFFT I cannot! I CANNOT EXPLAIN HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS CHAPTER IS. GODDDD!! HOW DID YOU WRITE THAT HOW DID YOU THINK OF THAT???? Its soooooo goood. You better add more spice to this real soon cuz i CANNOT wait.

    3 months ago