Chapter Text
ONE: SPICED RUM
“He fucking wears a wolf bone necklace.” Theon checked his apartment peep hole. “I swear to god, he has a necklace made from a wolf's bone. A real wolf. A toe I think. Or a rib, I don't know. I don't care. He's gross already. Help me Robb.”
Theon Greyjoy didn't want a roommate for his senior year. He had paid his dues for three years with a slew of weirdos he had to share a space with, and just for once he wanted to be able to walk around naked, be loud, and not worry about leftovers in the fridge. The on-campus apartments were too expensive to rent alone though, and his father balked when he showed him the price of a single.
Robb laughed on the other end of the phone line. Robb's parents shelled out big bucks to rent him a single bedroom apartment, which he was thrilled to share with no one but his own dirty socks and poli-sci homework. The Starks did everything for their eldest son, it was a little hard not to be jealous.
“Where is he now?”
Theon scanned the pathway from the peephole. It was moving day, what the hell was the guy doing out walking around campus?
“Dunno, he just walked out about a half hour ago and hasn't come back. All his shit is still in boxes. He didn't bring much with him though, meanwhile I look like I just moved an entire floor of IKEA here.”
“What's his name again? Rammert?”
“Ramsay. Not sure the last name. When I got my confirmation e-mail from the school they said I was rooming with a Snow, but I know he introduced himself to me as something else. Can't remember what. Psych major. Never seen him before, I don't think. I would have remembered this guy, he's an ugly son of a bitch.”
“Uglier than you?” Theon could hear the smile in Robb's voice. Very funny, Theon scowled. It wasn't that he ever had a difficult time hooking up with people, but he frequently felt out of touch with his own body. Some days Theon felt he was attractive and suave—other days he had to turn his mirrors backwards and couldn't stand the feel of his own skin and bones.
“I'll ignore that. He looks like an ox. Big broad face, long black hair to his shoulders.”
“I don't trust dudes with hair longer than yours.”
Theon self consciously ran a hand through his mop. It needed a cut, but it pissed off his dad and that was what mattered. At twenty-two, Theon was ashamed at how much he liked riling things up still. He thought he'd grow out of illegal fireworks, pranks on his sister, sneaking home drunk, and piercing his body. But four years past legal adulthood and all he had to show for adulthood was pierced nipples and a few cheap tattoos (all nautical themed, naturally).
“And he wears an earring. Just the one. Who does that, is it the 90's in California? That's a little too fruity even for me.” Theon kicked off his worn down Converse and tossed them by the door. He remembered when he got his ear pierced in a friend's basement at fourteen. His father had screamed his throat raw, claiming one earring on the right side made Theon look gay. He had just shrugged and said, well it's half true, ain't it? and earned himself a smack “And his eyes, there's no color to them, they're almost white. He's creepy, something about him rubs me the wrong way. He's not a big talker, so hopefully he'll just leave me the hell alone. I'm going to crash at your place all the time, I hope you realize this.”
“When Jeyne isn't here, you mean.”
“Oh come on. How often is she going to be there?” Theon tried to hide his annoyance. He started pacing in the new, tiny apartment and slammed his hand on the yellowed fridge. Jeyne was—nice. But that's about he had to say about her. She was forgettable and never laughed at his dumb jokes. Straight A's, Dean List, a double major in French and Literature. Not the type of girl Theon ever saw Robb settling down with, but he loved her somehow. Theon expected them to date once and never speak again, but it had been two years and Jeyne was already making Pinterest boards labeled “Dream Wedding <3”.
“Calm down. Jeyne puts up with your shit all the time.”
“Yeah but, I can't be alone here all the time with Ramsay Snow or whatever the fuck his name is. Guy will kill me and wear my bones around his neck,” The sound of keys jangling startled Theon and he bounced away from the fridge. “Shit. Shit, I'll call you back.” Theon hung up before Robb could butt in.
The door swung open, Ramsay walked in and without making eye contact, strode across the living area towards his room at the end of the hall. Half heatedly, Theon lifted a hand.
“Hey roomie. 'Sup?” He nodded and folded his arms. Remain casual, he told himself, lest he'll cut me up and stuff me in a pillowcase. He eyed the wolf bone necklace. When he had asked what it was, Theon thought Ramsay was just joking. But he insisted it was real, and that he made it himself.
“Yup.” Ramsay grunted and closed his door.
Theon took out his phone and sent a text to Robb: “Ramsay is Jeffrey Dahmer, I swear to god I am going to get murdered.” He headed towards his own room to finish unpacking and leaned an ear against their shared wall. Nothing, it was too quiet. He didn't even hear shuffling.
The phone vibrated. Robb again. “LOL, good luck. I should come by for a drink?”
He tried to stifle a chuckle. “You know what, you should. Bring the coke, I got the rum. Kraken, of course.”
Barely a minute passed. “Is that the only thing you drink? I'll be there in fifteen.”
* * *
“And then I said to him, I said, hey listen. Ramsay, buddy! Ramsay! C'mon, come in here with us. Don't be shy.” Robb whistled and poured another rum and coke, the fizz boiling over the brim. “I said to Arya, you need to take your own dog out on its own walks, and don't get my Greywind involved in this shit-- wait a second.” He was drunk, Theon smiled to himself. Robb got drunk hard and fast, usually off a drink and a half. “Ramsay!” He screamed. “Come in here, meet your new roommate! Have a drink, or two, have a thing. Be a friend! Theon isn't scary, though sometimes he sure does fucking smell, so have fun with that.”
“Shh, shhh, he might actually come in here,” Theon snickered, hiding his teeth with his hand. He was always painfully aware of them, how they overlapped and jutted out a bit. It was just Robb around but somehow that made it worse. Robb was classically handsome, Theon was what might call an acquired taste. A comma for a mouth, twisted teeth, skinny arms, and knotted hair. He hoped his sense of humor made up for his gangly neck and bony fingers. Theon traced his plastic cup with his thumb, a nervous habit. “Leave him alone, Robb. It's our first night together, I don't want to die before midterms, alright?”
Robb threw his head back in a raucous bark. “Where would he hide the body?” He lifted himself from the broken leather couch and strutted to Ramsay's bedroom door. “God that couch sucks, man. Your back is going to be broken before October.” Mid-sentence, he rapped his knuckles on the chipped white paint. “Ramsay! Come meet your roommate and his,” he was laughing so hard that the words turned to gravy, “his brother from another mother!” The joke made Theon smile. He did feel like Robb's brother sometimes, they were closer than Robb and his younger brothers Bran and Rickon, and they had more in common than Robb did with his two sisters.
Theon grabbed the edge of his sweater and stuffed the sleeve in his mouth to keep from laughing any louder. He waved his hands frantically, trying to tell Robb to stop knocking.
“Ramsay! Ramsay! Come on, we're your new friends for the year!” He started pounding to the tune of Queen's “We Will Rock You”, nodding his head along to the beat. “Ramsay Snow!”
The door opened with a sudden burst of energy, hitting Robb square in the nose. He clutched his face with a gasp, nursing two newly bloodied nostrils. Sprinting over to his friend, Theon uncovered Robb's hand from his face.
“Shit Robb. I think you might have broken your nose.” Theon felt clear, the buzz of drinking shoved aside.
Robb lifted a finger, pointed towards the broad shouldered hulk in the doorway. “You knew I was there, you did it on purpose.” He spat a mouth full of blood out onto the threadbare carpet, coughing out globs of pink glue.
“Calm down, no he didn't.” Theon looked up at Ramsay, their eyes locked.
Ramsay's smirk was evident, and it told Theon everything he needed to know about their power structure. Had his eyes always been that deeply inset and so unsettling? Theon's mind felt like three AM vodka, he was reeling and fading the more he gazed at his new roommate. Ramsay's red t-shirt fit snug over his barrel chest, his black jeans rode low on his hips, the knees faded and creased from years of wear. His long black hair was pushed behind his ear—a small earring shaped like a blood drop, or perhaps a red tear, was in his right lobe. Theon's eyes followed the curve of it—small and shimmery. Even though he was inside his own room, Ramsay wore a pair of black boots, the toes metal plated and gleaming. Ramsay looped a finger across his belt buckle—a piano black X. The wolf bone necklace hung on a loose piece of leather around his neck, and Theon suppressed and urge to touch it and feel its edges, its hardness. Theon blinked first, breaking the stare, and a chill ran up his spine in octaves. His eyes look possessed.
“If we are going to room together for a whole year,” Ramsay's voice was oil, leather, something hot and melting, “you better behave.”
“Oh please, like we're the first twenty-two year olds to get drunk in an apartment. God, you are a sociopath douche bag.” Robb wiped his face, leaving a smear of fresh blood and snot across his chin and cheek.
“It's okay Robb. We were being pretty loud.” Theon glanced up at Ramsay. That stare pinned him down like a frog. Something in him was afraid to disagree.
Robb whipped his head from Ramsay to Theon so rough that his neck popped.
“You agree with him?”
“We were being pretty loud, Robb. We should apologize.”
“I'm drunk as hell but I'm not dunk past the point of common sense. I know he did it on purpose.”
“You seem pretty clear headed now that I hit you though. So maybe you should be thanking me for your sudden soberness. There's nothing worse than someone who pretends to be drunker than they really are.” Ramsay leaned his shoulder against his door frame and crossed his arms. The subtle movement highlighted his biceps. He wasn't outright muscular, but he was toned behind a slight wall of fat. Husky, the word popped into Theon's mind and he let it roll over a few times like honeyed mead.
Theon lifted Robb up by his waist and wedged himself between the two, his back facing Ramsay. He didn't want to make contact with those eyes again, they were too light to be real.
“Come on Robb, let's not start a big thing. Okay?”
“I didn't. I wasn't the one who slammed a door into someone's face.”
“Just let it go, come on. The semester haven't even started yet. New year, new start.”
Robb glared at Ramsay and shook his head.
“You touch my friend and I will put more than door into your face.” Theon cringed at Robb's attempt to sound dangerous. He loved his friend, but Robb was barely capable of killing spiders and never even cheated on a test. Pitted against one another, Ramsay would be able to floss with Robb and pick his teeth after he was done. “I'm gonna call Jeyne to pick me up, I can't drive home like this.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, walking outside. Robb slammed the door behind him, the apartment was suddenly quiet.
Theon nervously glanced up at Ramsay, allowing his gaze to just reach the tip of his lips not his eyes. He scares me, he has no impulse control, Theon was even afraid to think it, wondering if his roommate could read his mind. It would not surprise him, that gaze was otherworldly.
“Hey, look, I'm sorry about Robb. He can't hold a drink very well. I'm, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “a lot better, maybe. At handling liquor. I promise.”
Ramsay scoffed. “I don't care if you drink. Especially not if you give me some.”
“Were we too loud?” Pathetic. Theon caught himself actually worried about hurting Ramsay's feelings. This asshole hurt my best friend, why am I concerned about him?
“Nah. My home was a lot louder than you guys, I promise you that.” He brushed his hand across his belt loops and something took a bite out of Theon's chest. “Just don't call me Snow.” With that, Ramsay turned on Theon and closed the door.
The rum suddenly felt too strong—Theon lurched and gagged.