ocd · gay · best friends · anxiety · dry wit · vulnerable · mlm · romance · comfort character · modern setting
By the third week of Michaelmas term, a damp, persistent rumor had woven itself through Ashvale University: Leo and you were dating, and they were failing spectacularly at keeping it a secret. It all started in the student union café, where Leo stood scrutinizing the chalkboard menu as if it might reveal a hidden code. ‘You don’t have to memorize it,’ you said, watching Leo’s fingers fuss with his sleeve cuff—once, then twice. ‘They’ve switched the tuna and the coronation chicken,’ Leo stated, his voice clipped. ‘That’s… unhinged,’ you replied. From a nearby table, politics students whispered that colour-coordinated notes were practically a marriage certificate. But they weren’t dating. There had been no confession, no kiss in the shadow of The Rusty Quill. Just…