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John fumbles with the dorm key until the lock finally clicks. It’s his freshman year at Vasser, and the common room is bare and echoey, just beige walls, a sagging couch, and the faint smell of paint from a summer touch-up. Four doors lead off to private bedrooms, each with a sticky paper label scrawled in marker.

He hasn’t had a chance to talk to any of his roommates yet, so he isn’t sure who he’s ended up with. He checked the “Okay with mixed gender suitemates” box, so he wonders if it’ll be guys, girls, or a mix—or what. It’s strange to think there’s so much he doesn’t know.

He tugs his suitcase across the floor and looks for the door marked “John.” He’s a little relieved the rooms are pre-assigned; he isn’t looking forward to having to fight for space. He unpacks slowly, stacking t-shirts in the tiny dresser, propping a poster of his favorite band on the desk. It feels staged, like he’s auditioning for the role of Normal Guy College Freshman Dude.

He pulls out his laptop and sends a quick message to his group chat, telling them he’s set up, asking how they’re doing. He’s just starting to read the rambling paragraph Dave sent when the suite door bangs open.

“Hiii!” A girl strides in, arms full of boxes. She has dark curls twisted into a pair of messy buns and a confident grin like she already owns the place. She drops her stuff in the middle of the floor. “Oh my god, are you boymoding? It’s gonna be all dolls so… Anyways, I’m Amayah. God, this building is a maze.”

“Oh—uh, hi,” John says. He straightens up, suddenly conscious of how quiet he’s been rattling around the empty suite, and a little confused at Amayah’s energy and questions. “I’m John.”

Amayah laughs. “Oh my god, wait, you’re like…” She bites her lip, looks him up and down, and shakes her head. “Cute.”

John's still a little confused as Amayah glances around, hands on her hips. “Not bad. Couch is tragic, but we can fix that. Dibs on the fridge top shelf, by the way. I need space for my shakes.”

John opens his mouth, then closes it. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to agree or… negotiate.

“Mooooooove bitches, I’m dying.” Another girl storms in, dragging a suitcase. Blonde streaks cut through her black hair, and she has that restless, crackling energy of someone perpetually annoyed. She stops short when she sees Amayah already staking territory.

Amayah’s smile turns sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean, Serket? Didn’t get enough of me at orientation?”

“That you’re already spreading out like this place is your personal kingdom.” Vriska dumps her bag on the couch. “Classic.”

The air snaps tight between them. They stand practically nose to nose, trading barbs like it’s instinct.

John freezes. He looks from one to the other, unsure if he should laugh, intervene, or just melt into the wall. His throat feels dry.

Then the door nudges open again. A third girl steps inside, her arms full of boxes. She balances them with surprising ease, a long blonde braid slipping over one shoulder. “Wow, Maya, already fighting? I leave you alone for five minutes…”

“Meri…” Amayah groans, though there’s more affection than anger in her voice.

Meri sets the boxes down with a thud and brushes her hands off. She gives John a warm, apologetic smile, like she’s already used to smoothing things over. “Hi. Sorry about that. You must be John. I’m Merina, but if you’re nice you can call me Meri."

Meri brushes a strand of hair out of her face, glances between Amayah and Vriska, then back to John. “Don’t let them scare you. I’ve known Maya forever and she and Vriska have been like this since day one at orientation. It’s basically flirting.”

“It’s not!” Amayah and Vriska snap in unison, which only makes Meri roll her eyes.

John laughs nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Uh… okay.”

“So,” Amayah says, plopping herself down on the couch like she owns it. “What’s your deal, John? Major? Hobbies? Gender?” She says the last word casually, like it’s as normal a question as ‘Where are you from?’

John blinks. “Uh. Male? Cis? I think?” His voice comes out uncertain, like he isn’t sure if that’s the right answer.

“Yeah,” Amayah says in response. “Most of the guys I’ve met so far think it’s an insult.”

Vriska grins like a cat. Or a spider. “Exactly. And lucky you, Johnny boy—you’re outnumbered. Three dolls, one boy.” She counts off her fingers. “Me, Maya, Meri.”

“Three dolls?” John starts, then stops. He hadn’t expected to walk into this dynamic. His stomach flips in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“Haha, trans girls, John. Don’t worry,” Meri says, softer than the others, though there’s amusement in her eyes. “We don’t bite. Well.” She glances at Vriska. “Most of us don’t.”

“Depends if he deserves it,” Vriska says, grinning sharply. She drops onto the arm of the couch like she’s claiming high ground, eyes flicking over John with a kind of lazy interest that makes him shift in place.

John forces a laugh, but he can feel his face heating. He’s not sure what he’s gotten himself into.

Amayah props her chin on her hand and stares at him openly. “So, John… What's it like being the token cis boy? Are you gonna start a support group? "Lonely Straights of Vasser”?”

“Relax,” Vriska interrupts. “We’re just messing with you.” Her smirk widens. “Unless you want us to be serious. Then it gets fun.”

Meri sighs but she’s smiling as she heads for the fridge. “Ignore them. Maya gets like this when she's nesting and it seems like Vriska does too. It’ll calm down once everyone’s unpacked.”

“Or,” Amayah says, still eyeing John, “it won’t. Because honestly, he blushes way too easily.”

“Oh my god, look at him,” Vriska crows. “He’s like a baby deer. Don’t worry, John, we’ll teach you how to survive.”

John forces out a laugh, but his stomach is doing somersaults. He isn’t sure if he wants to melt into the floor or sit down between them and see what happens.

Meri shuts the fridge with a soft thump. “Alright, enough hazing. We’ve got a whole semester for that.” She tosses John a bottle of water like it’s a peace offering. “Heres to the suite.”

“Don’t thank me,” Meri says. “Thank the housing gods. You’ve got the luck of the draw.”

The weight of three pairs of eyes on him makes him swallow hard. He takes a quick sip of water and stares at the label like it’s the most interesting thing in the room.

Once the initial sparring dies down, they all fall into the rhythm of unpacking. Meri drapes fairy lights around her door frame, humming off-key, while Amayah methodically folds sweaters into her dresser with intense precision. Vriska disappears into her room for twenty minutes and comes back dragging out a battered speaker, immediately hijacking the soundscape with a raring guitar. John doesn't mind it, he thinks the songs are from some 90s soundtrack so maybe he and Vriska have something in common.

At one point Amayah insists John help her wrestle a giant full-length mirror against the wall. “Every suite needs one,” she declares. When John catches his own reflection next to hers — her easy confidence, his awkward stance — he feels his stomach twist. He puts the thought out of his mind and goes back to unpacking.

Later, Meri offers fish-shaped cookies her mom baked that she took with her, and for a while the common room smells like cinnamon instead of stale dust and hours old cleaning product. They talk about majors, hometowns, what clubs they might join. It almost feels normal.

By the time boxes are shoved aside and the couch is halfway liberated, they’re all piled back into the common room together. Vriska has somehow produced a six-pack of cheap beer, the cans sweating on the coffee table.

“Legal? Yeah, no shit,” Vriska cuts in, cracking one open with a hiss. She takes a long sip, then grins. “Relax, pupa. I’ve got connections.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says breezily, tossing a can toward Amayah, who catches it one-handed. “The point is, it’s like tradition. First night in our suite, first pack of beer, first round of dares.”

Meri groans, already resigned, but she takes a can anyway. “You’re impossible.” Amayah smiles at her, raises an eyebrow, and they both start laughing.

Vriska turns to John, eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, pupa. You’re up. Let’s see if you’re as boring as you look.”

John stares back, caught between dread and something that feels dangerously like excitement.

Vriska leans forward, eyes glittering, and shrugs off her jacket. It’s cropped black leather, scuffed at the edges, with a line of enamel pins stabbed into the collar. She dangles it from two fingers, lazy and deliberate.

Meri claps her hands like a kid at a carnival. “Yes, yes! Oh my god, you’ll look adorable.”

John swallows. His throat feels tight. It’s stupid — it’s just a jacket after all. It's not like it's even pink or anything. But the way all three of them are looking at him makes his skin prickle.

Vriska raises an eyebrow. “What’s the matter? Afraid it’ll fit too well?”

That lands like a spark in his chest. Before he can think better of it, John takes the jacket. The leather is warm from her skin. He slides one arm in, then the other. It’s snug across his shoulders, the cropped hem hitting higher on his waist than any jacket he’s ever owned.

“Oh my gosh!!!” Meri shouts immediately, squealing. Amayah whips out her phone and snaps a photo before John can react.

“You’re literally cuter than Maya right now, that’s illegal.” Meri says, still excited.

John’s face floods hot. He laughs weakly, tugging at the zipper. “Okay, okay, very funny—”

“No,” Vriska cuts in. She’s watching him with a different expression now, smug still, but with something sharper, more focused. “Leave it on. It suits you.”

“Yeah, you look right in it, Egbert.” Amayah says, also smiling, photos taken. “Have you thought about growing your hair out, it would look great with it.” Vriska glares at her after that.

John opens his mouth to protest, but Meri clears her throat and reaches for the beer. “Alright, next dare before he combusts.”

The rest of the game is a blur for John. By the end, the coffee table is littered with half-empty cans, crumbs, and Amayah’s phone loaded with incriminating photos. The suite hums with warmth, laughter still echoing off the beige walls.

John leans back into the couch, still wearing Vriska’s jacket, the collar brushing his chin. He feels ridiculous. He feels exposed. He feels... good. Too good. And that scares him more than anything.

That night, long after the laughter fades and the others have disappeared into their bedrooms, John lies awake in his narrow dorm bed.

The common room is quiet now, just the faint hum of the fridge and the muffled bass of some other suite's playlist coming through the walls. But his mind won’t settle. He can still feel the weight of Vriska’s jacket on his shoulders, the teasing lilt in Amayah’s voice, the warmth of Meri’s steady smile.

He should feel embarrassed. Humiliated, even. Instead, his chest buzzes with something he can’t name. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees himself in the mirror, standing next to Amayah again, but different this time. She was still herself, confident and cocky, but he was imagining himself in Vriska's leather jacket instead of the shirt and jeans he had on before, and, in his imagination, he didn’t look out of place.

He unlocks his phone, the glow washing over him in the dark. His group chat is alive as ever, with his friends, Rose, Dave, and Jade, each firing off their usual half-serious, half-unhinged banter.

GG: how’s everyone doing??? are you all moved in?

TT: I’ve moved in already. My roommate and I are getting along well.
TT: Despite her predilection for vampire novels aimed at teenage girls with poor self esteem.

TG: dorm room is hell
TG: my roommate has a fish tank with a single shrimp in it
TG: it watches me when i sleep.

GG: omg!!!! please name it!!

TT: If the shrimp doesn’t have a name, then it’s already dead.
TT: TG's probably about to cook it

GG: noo!!! dave don't cook the shrimp! :(

EB: my suite is fine. weird first night though.

TT: Translation “John is repressing something.”

GG: lol leave him alone he’s just shy!! first nights are always weird! :(

TG: yeah johns fine unlike me and my roommate
TG: see cause first he had the shrimp
TG: which was weird but whatever
TG: people are weird so i was gonna live with it
TG: then the guy brings back a crab
TG: where do you even get a crab
TG: did he go all the way to the ocean for that little red fucker
TG: and it was like well its only 8 more months
TG: then today he brings in a prawn
TG: did you know prawns were different then shrimp
TG: it looks like a mean shrimp
TG: like a shrimp from the wrong side of the tracks
TG: so its like week two
TG: but now its a whole aquarium
TG: so many underwater insects all crawling around and staring at me
TG: its like fucking red lobster up in here

EB: lol no nothing like that.

GG: LMAOOO!!!! please send pics!!!!

John grins at the screen, his chest loosening. For a moment it feels like he’s just back home in the group call, nothing weird or heavy to think about.

But when the chat slows and the silence of the dorm creeps back in, he still feels the phantom weight of Vriska’s jacket on his shoulders. His thumb hovers over the keyboard, wanting to type something he can’t quite name. After a long pause, he backspaces and sends instead:

EB: but yeah im okay. just a lot to get used to.
EB: my room mates are nice.

GG: yay!!

A few more jokes scroll by, Dave spiraling about shrimp surveillance, Jade sending a dozen exclamation marks over three messages, Rose casually dunking on both of them. It’s nothing unusual, but it steadies him. He smiles, phone warm in his hand.

Still, when the conversation drifts quiet, the silence comes rushing back. He flips onto his side and buries his face in the pillow.

It’s only the first day, and already he has no idea what this year is going to look like.

Roommatestuck, Or Mixed Gender Suitemates Okay I

Roommatestuck I