Troy Bolton is a Douchebag

Yuri lugged his suticases down the hall, relieved to finally have a dorm room. Sure, his roommate would probably be hell, but it was better than having a ton of immigrants and meth heads as well as a creepy gay accountant for neighbors. In any case, he had his Gwen Stefani CDs and sewing kit--how bad could sharing a dorm be?

He unlocked the door with his shiny new key; much to his surprise, there was a naked man dancing in the living room to what sounded like the soundtrack of High School Musical. Worse, Yuri recognized his face.

"...Fuck," he said plainly, dropping his key. Anyone but this guy.

Blair Liu, who had been blissfully unaware that he had been assigned a roommate, pretty much lost it when he saw the man standing in the doorway. He hadn't been expecting company, of course, considering the fact that he didn't even know anyone else had a key to his room.

"What are you doing here?!" He screeched, much to his own surprise. It was definitely the most feminine, girly noise he had made to date. He wasn't sure what to lunge for first; a pair of boxers or the TV remote. Predictably, Blair lunged for the TV remote and turned it off, silencing the room.

His face was, predictably, extremely red. Embarrassed as all hell, he tried to compose himself. It was harder than he expected. He glowered at Yuri, walking over to him.

"How did you get a key? What the fuck are you doing here?" He snapped, but this was the moment when he realized; he knew this guy. He blinked, his expression turning doubtful. It seemed like too big of a coincidence, but the more he looked at him, the more he realize; "It's you!"

"Wow, surprised you remember me," he said in a monotone, grabbing his suitcases and shoving past Blair. "Nice to meet you again, roommate."

He followed Yuri, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around.

"Obviously, someone was just fucking with you at the front desk, 'cause this room is mine." He said, his expression souring completely into a scowl. "So get the hell out."

"Then why do I have this key, and why did they send you an email two weeks ago?" he asked. "I don't like it either, but it's the only room available and I'm not going back to my old apartment."

"What?! Come on, man who the fuck reads their email?" He asked, crossing his arms angrily. "Just don't...don't touch anything until I clean out that stupid room, okay! It has, like, uh, porn and shit in it so you should just wait till I can clean it out!"

Unfortunately, that statement was half true; the spare room in Blair's dorm was actually one he devoted to celebrities he liked, as well as High School Musical merchandise. What wasn't on his walls and hanging around in his actual room adorned the spare room. There was a lot of shirtless action going on that spare room, too. Way too much to be straight.

"Sure," he said, sitting down on the couch. "I'll just start my Satanic chants, if you don't mind."

Blair rolled his eyes.

"That schtick doesn't work on me, dumbass." He replied, as he walked into the spare room and slammed the door. Frantically, he began to pull the posters down. They were mostly framed, though not all of them were. His favorites were framed, however. They were the more shirtless pictures, too. He pulled them down, piling them by the door. The problem was, where did he put it all? What was he supposed to do with it? He didn't have room, like, anywhere.

Groaning, he picked up as much as he could and hauled it off into his room, hoping Yuri didn't look at what he was carrying.

Yuri didn't look; he was far too focused watching the red liquid drip off of his arms in large quantities onto a piece of parchment with a pentagram drawn on it. During the time Blair had been gone, he had turned off the lights and lit several candles instead. He chanted ominously in the shadows.

"E pluribus unum...veritas aequitas...quid pro quo...e tu, Brutae..."

Blair paused, upon realizing how dark it had gotten. With his posters in hand, he peeked into the living room.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shouted, nearly dropping his handful of posters. "Stop that, what the fuck is your problem?!"

"Lucifer...tempus simia...lingua latina," he murmured eerily as more blood dripped onto the red pentagram. "Blair, I told you of my intentions--I'm inviting Lucifer to protect my living space and belongings from outsiders."

Inwardly, Blair groaned. Great, he loved playing the idiot. He did it all day at school, and now at home, too?

"Well stop!" He snapped. "I'm not even touching your stupid ass shit, I'm just trying to move my shit out of your shitty room so you can put your shit in!"

"Then get me a towel for the blood unless you want it on the carpet," he said firmly, more out of bitterness than any kind of confidence.

He ground his teeth together, in genuine annoyance.

"Fine." He hissed angrily, dumping his posters into his room and retrieving a towel from the cabinet. He thew it at Yuri. "Faggot."

Yuri caught it, soaking up the red liquid on his wrists. He licked some off; it was primarily corn syrup and food dye, after all.

"I'm not the one jerking off to HSM."

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. But despite that, he didn't reply.

He finished cleaning out the room, finally.

"There! God, you fucking bitch, have your stupid shithole room."

"Wow, apparently you swear this much when you're not fucking someone, too," he said flatly as he gathered his things. "Not that I would know."

He ground his teeth together again, but this time he did reply.

"You know, I don't have to put up with your stupid shit," He snapped angrily, taking a few steps towards Yuri, "Because I could have you beat half to death in a second, and I wouldn't even have to lift a finger."

Of course, this was a huge bluff; Blair would pretty much never do that. In fact, he was usually the one who deescalated violence within his social circle. It felt kind of good to make the threat, though.

"Sure you would--with no one around to fuck, you'd have to finger yourself," he replied. "Though I guess you'll always have Troy, right? Must be nice."

"You're just as much of a bitch as you were in high school." He spat, retreating to his room to brood.

"I wasn't a bitch," he called miserably, sighing to himself. He dragged his bags to his room, not bothering to clean up the "Satanic" mess in front of the tv; Blair could get that himself. He began to unpack, first hanging up his Gwen Stefani posters; the room looked brighter already.

He glanced at the bed; oddly enough, there seemed to be multiple stains on the sheets. He'd have to talk to Blair about them later, he decided.

A while later, Blair returned to the living room, fully clothed this time, to clean up the mess Yuri had made, as well as to clean up his own mess. He also began the meticulous project of moving all his personal belongings into his room. His High School Music collection, whatever else was out there. He left the Mythbuster stuff, though. That was manly enough, it was fine. When he finished, he realized that his room was completely full of junk. Groaning, he grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and set up shop on the couch.

Yuri came out into the living room to watch TV at that exact moment.

"...What are you even doing?" he asked. "If you're preparing a date, tell me so I can get out."

"No, thanks to your stupid ass decision to move in suddenly, I had to move my shit back into my room, and now there's no where for me to sleep, asshole." He wrapped himself up in his blanket, sitting in the middle of the couch just to be spiteful. "Now get the hell out of the living room, I pay for the cable and the TV is mine."

"Bite me," he said, grabbing the remote. "I liked you better before."