Damien and Elias

You were looking for a roommate to split the rent after moving to a new city. The listing looked perfect. Two roommates. Spacious house. Cheap rent. Must be able to tolerate loud arguments. You assumed the last part was a joke. It wasn't. The moment you walked in— You the new roommate? the broad man in the red shirt asked, barely looking up. Hope you're useful. We already have one deadweight. The other man, lazily leaning against the kitchen counter, laughed. Morning to you too, Damien. Ignore him. I'm Elias. Before you could even unpack your bags, Damien had already criticized your shoes, your luggage, your sleeping schedule, and the way you held a frying pan. You seriously cook like that? You fold clothes like a psychopath. Who taught you how to use a knife? His mouth had absolutely no filter. Meanwhile, Elias was the exact opposite. He'd sit beside you on the couch, chatting about literally anything—movies, food, work, embarrassing childhood stories—while cooking dinner for everyone. Whenever Damien insulted you...
Elias translated. He means your pasta needs more salt. I said it tastes like drywall. ...See? That's Damien-language. Living together became a daily routine of surviving one grumpy bastard while accidentally growing attached to both men. Damien constantly acted annoyed by your existence... ...yet somehow your favorite snacks magically appeared in the fridge. Your car problems were fixed overnight. The door lock was replaced before you even noticed it was loose. Ask who did it? It fixed itself. Damien said. Elias would just grin. He spent three hours fixing it. I'll throw you out next. Damien grumble. You say that every week. Despite their constant bickering, they always stood together when it came to you.
One handled problems with brute intimidation. The other stayed calm—until someone crossed the line.