Page 8 of They Were Roommates

“Sorry, I should have specified. I was in a French immersion program all through grade school, so I know about ‘to be’ verbs, conjugations, gender, past participle and all that jazz. I just don’t know a lot of Spanish vocab.”

Diego paused. He had no idea Frankie spoke French. Had he taken it in college too? Diego had never thought to ask about Frankie’s other classes.

“So, the question basically means are you daydreaming, but it literally translates to are you dreaming awake.”

Frankie smiled, flashing Diego his pearly white, slightly crooked teeth. “Perfect. I’m absolutely going to ask Jaden if he’s dreaming awake the next time he dozes off mid-hand job.”

Ah, yes. Jaden. Frankie’s latest conquest, a third year PhD student who was taking an overload of classes and had a propensity to fall asleep mid-coitus with Frankie. Frankie had told Diego this not out of spite, but a mixture of sympathy and jest. He’d even told the story with Jaden there, the only time they’d all ended up at the same bar together. Jaden had taken the teasing in stride and had dished back a fair amount of his own jabs. Diego knew Frankie wasn’t looking for a partner, but if he was, Jaden seemed like a pretty good prospect. Maybe Diego really should consider starting to date. If he could meet someone like Jaden, maybe there was hope.

Unfortunately, the ball of anxiety and jealousy churning in his belly shut down the idea pretty quickly.

“What were you daydreaming about,guapo?” Diego asked, trying to change the subject but damn, the Spanish was just flowing tonight. The shot of whiskey he’d added to their most recent cups of coffee at Frankie’s request probably wasn’t helping.

Frankie squinted at him. “Is that an insult?”

“No, it means…” Fuck. The literal translation was not something Diego could admit out loud. It translated to handsome but could be used as a casual endearment between friends, or at least that’s how his cousin had always used it for him, sort of a dual-endearment and affirmation for him. “It means… cool guy, but in an affectionate way. My cousin Sofia, the one who knows I’m gay and trans, started calling me that after I came out and it was the most affirming thing I’d ever been called.”

Well, that was a total overshare, but at least he hadn’t accidentally admitted he thought Frankie was cute. And handsome even though he definitely was both.

“Well, if you have a fun nickname for me, then I get one for you! I’m going to call youmon chou.”

Diego ran through his Spanish and English vocabulary but came up short. “I’m… not sure what that means?”

Frankie grinned at him, and Diego had the sneaking suspicion this one would be an insult.

“It means my cabbage.”

Diego balked and Frankie laughed so hard he almost tipped his laptop off his lap. Diego pulled his feet back towards his chest and glowered at Frankie.

“Hey!” Frankie called indignantly and reached for Diego’s leg. His fingers caught on the hem of his khakis and pushed up the fabric to mid-calf. Frankie’s warm hand landed on Diego’s bare skin. The shock of the sensation stopped him from pulling back any farther.

“It’s an endearment, I promise! It’s… actually I think it’s a pretty sweet one, like… it’s something you call someone you, uh, like a lot. Like a really good friend, or whatever.”

Frankie’s cheeks flared bright red and Diego slowly raised an eyebrow. His fingers itched to look up the phrase and see if, one: it was about cabbage; two: was a nice endearment; and three: was in fact used for just friends or if it was more commonly used for lovers. If they were going to give each other lover nicknames, Diego had much better ones for Frankie.

He quickly cut the thought off and focused instead on the feeling of Frankie’s hand on his leg, gently rustling his coarse leg hair. He’d shaved his legs as a teen, following gender norms and stereotypes in his small southern town, and it had been a bit of a hard transition for him not only to stop shaving, but also to have much thicker, coarser hair due to taking testosterone. Frankie seemed to be enjoying it though, his thumb gently stroking along the ridge of his shin.

“Get back to work, cabbage,” Diego grunted, replacing his legs in Frankie’s lap. Frankie stuck his tongue out and they both turned back to their computers. Diego never did find out what Frankie had been daydreaming about.

* * *

Diego hadn’t givenmuch thought to the fact that this was Frankie’s last semester in school while Diego still had another year left. As the weeks turned into months, and Frankie became a staple in Diego’s life, the looming May graduation began to feel like a guillotine over his head. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other friends, but he didn’t have any other friends who would hug Diego’s foot, cowering in fear, while they watched a horror movie on a study break, but would also sign them up, unprompted and unapproved by Diego, for an improv class at their local theater. With Frankie, he was constantly being pushed out of his comfort zone and yet also coddled and sometimes cuddled.

Frankie had begun to come over unannounced on weekends. Diego wouldn’t be wearing his packer or he’d have on a ratty band t-shirt and sweats. Frankie never batted an eye and even though Diego was almost certain he’d caught him glancing at his flat crotch before, he’d never looked alarmed, concerned, or anything else. Diego tried not to read too much into anything Frankie said or did, but everything changed a few weeks before finals.

Frankie was over at his apartment, packing up to leave, when a French book slipped out of his backpack.

“Brushing up so you can think of something more creative than calling me a cabbage, duck, or lamb?” Diego teased.

Frankie had been getting much more inventive with his endearments and Diego had texted his cousin to unearth some fun Spanish names. They were currently onguero, which was an affectionate name for a white person, andcerebro, typically used for someone who was really smart, but Frankie was well aware of the sarcastic tone Diego infused it with.

Something flashed across Frankie’s face so fast Diego couldn’t clock it. Then, like the sun breaking through clouds, Frankie’s face absolutely lit up. “Actually…I’m moving to France this summer.”

Diego felt his stomach land somewhere near his ankles. Frankie was… moving to Europe? Forever?

Frankie’s face slowly fell as he took in Diego’s lack of a response. Or perhaps his face was doing more than it should, and Frankie was reading the utter devastation he was feeling. Diego quickly pivoted. “That’s amazing, Franklin. Truly. Is it… just for the summer?”

Frankie watched him skeptically, but when Diego refused to react or say more, Frankie gave in. “There’s no set amount of time, but I’m thinking maybe a year. I want to try working at some bars, maybe a cafe or two. I know they’re much more liberal in terms of gender and sexuality, and I really want to explore that as well.”

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