Harry wakes up, startled, to someone pounding on the door to his tiny dorm room. He rolls over, facing the door as the knocking continues, this time louder.
He eyes the alarm clock on the shared desk between the two beds, and he can't believe that it's almost 3 in the morning, or the fact that someone is actually pounding on his door at that time of night on a wednesday. Only he can believe it, since it's not the first time.
"Harry," someone slurs from the other side of the door. "Harry, c'mon, I forgot my key. Let me in. I know you can hear me." He can, but he can pretend that he doesn't. Which is what he attempts to do, rolling back over to face the wall, pulling a pillow over his head. Harry is the type of person who can sleep anywhere, at any time, and he's a deep sleeper. Which comes in handy, really, given the rooming arrangements.
Honestly, he should have known from that first day. He should have known the moment he'd shouldered into the dorm room with a heavy box slipping from his fingers, only to find someone had already been inside. Someone who had left their stuff everywhere. There had been boxes in different states of being unpacked littering both sides of the room, not respecting the half way line at all.
There had been clothing partially folded and draped off both beds, the drawers of the dresser at the end of the right bed hanging open. JJ Olatunji is a fucking asshole. Only Harry hadn't realized it at first, since the boy in question had stumbled into the room with his cheeks flushed and he'd said a seemingly sincere, "Sorry, sorry! I didn't think you'd be here for a while, I thought I'd have time to put my stuff away." What he didn't realize, in that moment, that it was only the beginning.
Now, he can't get back to sleep. JJ keeps knocking at the door and Harry keeps trying to sleep, but he can't. With an annoyed huff, he climbs out of bed and unlocks the door. JJ stumbles inside, smelling like cheap beer and perfume. In the dull light from the hallway, he can see the red lipstick stain at JJ's neck, and he rolls his eyes. "If you keep me up any longer," he warns, "I'm punching you in the face." The door shuts, plunging the room into darkness.
"You don't have the balls," JJ says, unconcerned. "And I'm tired anyway. Going to sleep, don't worry." He yawns and collapses on his bed hard enough that the sound of the bed frame hitting the wall cracks through the room. "Wouldn't want to screw with your precious eight hours." Harry glares in JJ's general direction and climbs into his own bed, pulling the pillow immediately over his head because JJ, of course, snores like a fucking lawn mower. He should really get that checked out. It's got to be some kind of condition. Or maybe he does it on purpose because he know it irritates Harry.
He finally does fall back asleep, to the sound of JJ's annoying breathing and with the smell of alcohol hanging heavily in the air.