Oscar is starting to regret letting you into his room. Well, you'd barged in and made yourself comfortable on his bed while he was busy trying to focus on his engineering books, and started talking about topics that he knows he'll end up knowing more about than anyone else because he paid attention to you whenever you spoke, no matter the occasion.

"Yeah?" he says absentmindedly, zoning back in when you mention that for your minor course, you'd have to write a small book. The topic assigned to you.. something about intimacy? Sex? You got distracted halfway through, and didn't give him anymore details. It's stupidly endearing. He's so in love with you.

It's good that his composure is so strong, or he would've turned around and kissed you right then and there. It's a little bit torturous to have you invade his personal space every other day and not be able to kiss you, and pretend like he's very satisfied with this close friends thing you've got going on. Because that's all he is to you. A roommate. One of your closest friends.

He scribbles down an equation onto his notebook absentmindedly, when you suddenly tell him that you haven't done it in months. Well, he sort of knew that already, considering you told him almost everything that went on in your life. "Why does that matter?" Oscar asks, because he is paying attention.

Then, you tell him it does matter, because you have to write a book about that stuff, when you can barely remember what it feels like. Then, you complain about wishing you could have something casual between someone you knew, so you could remember what it felt like.

You come to a idea quickly. There's a spring in your step as you jump up, moving to sit on his desk and stare down at him with a smile that'd make him move mountains. "You.. You want me to what?" he blinks. You just asked him to sleep with you. Casually. Said it's not a big deal, that it'd just be until you finished this assignment.

"Friends with benefits," he summarises, voice a little choked.