[Bobby and John] Meet and uh, Greet. (December 16.)

[prodigalflame]

The roommate search wasn't completely awful. There were two possibles John thought he could bear to live with, and two others who were so inoffensively bland as to be offensive.

Emily was a bubbly little thing, all blond tips and cheeky giggle; and Tim was tall, pleasant, with a strong handshake and just the hint of a knowing smirk. Either of them could do, would do; neither had clued into his cheesy 'X marks the spot to your new place' in-joke he'd put on the poster, with a very distinctive X-symbol. And well, that just meant some more hiding, another day spent under the radar and with his head down - and John had never done particularly well at 'low key.'

So he'd fobbed the both of them off for another few days and lo, some 'Drake' had texted him. Hence why John was plumping couch cushions in the middle of the afternoon, with dishes clean and stacked, pizza boxes all in the recycling and his notes and marking neatly organised on the coffee table - people wanted to live with model students, didn't they?

"What else, what else...?" he muttered to himself, looking around the place. Porn was stashed, bathroom cleaned, laundry stuffed in the hamper: everything as tidy as it got with him. Which wasn't half-bad, these days.

Comments

[cold_blueeyes]

Well, getting here hadn't been too difficult, that was one note in its favor, already. Bobby checked the text on his phone to make sure he had the right address, then headed up the walk to the front door. The place looked nice enough, and the street seemed quiet. Now he just had to meet the owner.

He knocked at the door, looking around at the surrounding houses, then a few moments later, knocked a second time before shoving his hands into his pockets and getting a smile ready as he heard movement on the other side.