Rain lashed at the windows and thumped against the roof, mixing with the sound of the kettle and filling Drift and Ratchet’s small, cozy house with a soft roar. Rodimus drew the blanket tighter around his shoulders and tried not to fall too far into the ridiculously comfortable couch. Drift came back into the living room carrying two steaming mugs of tea and looking perfectly at home amongst the happy clutter.
“How did the end of semester party go?” Drift asked, setting Rodimus’s tea down in front of him and pausing to light some all-natural soy candle before settling on his yoga mat. The candle was cedar-scented, overpowering the lingering smell of weed and vodka clinging to Rodimus.
He shrugged. “Nothing special. I was tired after the bio final, so I didn’t stay too long.”
Drift looked up from his weird pretzel pose and cocked an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t stay long at a house party? You feeling alright?”
It was probably a joke, but Rodimus sighed and answered, “No.”
Drift untangled himself and sat up. “No?” It was clearly supposed to invite more commentary, but Rodimus just shrugged again. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Drift’s eyes, so he fiddled with a loose bit of yarn on the blanket instead. The thing was probably hand-knit by one of Drift and Ratchet’s work friends, or something. Maybe crocheted. He didn’t know the difference. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Just… end of semester, you know? Always happens.”
“No, actually, I don’t know. Never went to uni, remember?”
“Right, yeah. Um, actually. About that.” He took a sip of his tea and tried to pretend like it didn’t burn his tongue. Drift snorted a laugh anyway. “How did you know?”
There was a sound like shifting fabric and when Rodimus looked up, Drift was up and about to sit next to him on the couch. He moved to make room, but still ended up half-crushed by two hundred and twenty pounds of karate instructor. “Oof, get off of me, you asshole.”
“Nope.” Drift draped himself more comfortably around Rodimus’s shoulders, half-hugging and half-laying on him. “What do you mean, ‘how did I know?’”
“I mean, like, how did you know school wasn’t right for you? I know you didn’t finish high school, but, like, when you got your GED, how did you know you didn’t want to go to university?”
Drift hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know, exactly. It just didn’t feel like me, somehow. Me and Ratty talked about it for a while, and we decided that between the loans and my feelings about it, it just wasn’t worth trying. I never liked high school much and even though I’m doing better now, I think the part of me that never fit well there is still the same. It’s just not my thing.”
Rodimus gave up on escaping from Drift’s embrace and wrapped his arms around him. “Yeah. I’m thinking maybe uni isn’t for me, either.”
Drift was quiet for a second and Rodimus braced himself for the usual but you have so much potential! Instead, Drift said, “Maybe not.” Rodimus blinked. “You’ve been struggling a lot with it since you started, and it’s making you miserable, so maybe it’s not for you.”
“You think so?”
“I mean, I don’t know for sure. It’s your choice, and all I know is what you’ve told me. But what you’ve told me is your grades are shit, your social life is shit, your mental health is shit, and you want out. To me, that’s a sign that maybe you should take a break.”
Somehow, even though that was the same conclusion Rodimus had reached on his walk over, to hear Drift say it stung. He heard his own insecurity in Drift’s voice, the nagging thought that he just wasn’t smart enough for university, too lazy, too stupid. Drift wouldn’t say that, though. Rodimus knew that, he was just. Well, it had been a long semester. “Yeah.”
Drift hums. “It doesn’t have to be permanent, either. It’s not like you take next semester off and then boom, that’s it, done, you can never go back to uni. Take a leave of absence and see how it feels.”
“Mm.”
“What.”
Rodimus squirmed. “Mmnn, I don’t know, it just feels like giving up.”
“Says who?”
“Uh, I don’t know, just my brain, my parents, my profs, my high school teachers, my friends--”
“What friends do you even have outside of me and Ratchet?”
“Hey!” Rodimus tried to shove him to the floor, but Drift remained unmoving and unphased. Fucking asshole. “You know what I mean.”
Drift settled back against Rodimus’s side. “I do. It’s hard. If Ratchet were here, he’d probably tell you to stay in school, just so you know. Take my advice with a grain of salt, and all that.”
“You give very wishy-washy advice.”
“I’m trying to get you in touch with your own desires by talking about them to me.” Drift gave him a shit-eating grin.
“Man, shut the fuck up. Where do you even get this stuff? Have you read every self-help book in the library, or something?” There were quite a few of them on Drift’s bookshelves. Rodimus had even read a few chapters over sleepless nights on this very couch, not that he’d ever admit it. “You sound like a therapist.”
“Yeah, but I’d need a degree to be a therapist, and this whole conversation is about how I don’t have one.” Drift stole Rodimus’s tea from the coffee table and took a contemplative sip. “This is getting cold, you know.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“Any time. I’m there for you.”
Rodimus let his head fall against Drift’s shoulder with a thump. “You’re the worst.”
“And you love me for it.” There was a moment of silence, just their breathing and the rain falling outside. “You’ll be okay, you know? It’s really hard right now, but you’re going to be okay.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”