universal_charm | [ LOCKED ] The Odd Couple

Entry tags:

[ LOCKED ] The Odd Couple

The door slammed maybe a bit to loudly as Kirk entered the dorm space he had been sharing with one Malcolm Reed for the better part of a year. Out of deeply ingrained habit he slipped out of his shoes by the door and kicked them to the side, coming around the partition into the main living space. The zipper of of his uniform went down next, casually tossing it onto his bed, though it hung off the side like a distressed damsel.

Naked from the waist up he threw open the doors to his closet, humming some song or another under his breath as he flicking through the various shirts he owned that were nice enough to require hangars. Was it going to be that kind of party? Stacy hadn't really said, but Stacy being Stacy, well, she'd like the button ups...

"Hey, don't throw the top lock tonight," he said over his shoulder to his roommate. "I don't know when I'll be back. Might want to put your ear plugs in too, just in case."

His warning given, he went back to perusing his shirts - not that he had that many to choose from, but hey, a guy had to be stylish.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It's a party, not a board meeting. Just relax and be yourself, okay? Stick with me, and if people ask, talk. They won't bite - well, most won't, not unless you want them too."

At this point in the night most people were inside, red solo cups in hand, shifting to the thump of the bass music or chatting in small groups. It was crowded, sure, but Kirk had seen and been in worse. He was quick to say hi, exchange a few pecks on the lips or cheek if they were offered, some bro-hugs and slaps. He was at home here, among his element, his smile a beacon.

"Malcolm, what do you want to drink?" Kirk called to the other.

It was always the 'be yourself' part that tripped him up, because wasn't the point doing something new and not himself? The jacket was probably not going to be necessary at this point. Maybe he should see if he can find some classmates and say hello? Not in the way that Jim was saying hello, of course. Social butterfly.

"Just water is fine." There was probably alcohol, but naturally there was a concern there. "Unless that's too boring for your tastes."

"No, it means at least one of us will remember the way home," he called with a bright laugh, disappearing for a moment as he went to the kitchen to grab the drinks. He came back with a bottle of beer for himself and a bottle of water for Mal, pressing it into his hand.

He looked up at him and pursed his lips the tiniest bit, reaching up and raking his fingers through the more studious man's hair. He nodded after a second, pleased.

"Just relax," he said softly to him. "You look good, and you're not terrible at conversation. I'm not going to throw you in the deep end and bail."

"...Here's hoping you won't be drinking that much. I might indulge myself yet, but certainly not to that point." Hard to tell sometimes when Jim was joking or not.

And then fingers in his hair??? Malcolm ducked a little and immediately patted down his hair and tried to feel if it was ruffled out of place. What the hell? "Excuse you, my hair doesn't need playing with."

"Making it look a little less like you slept on your books wouldn't hurt you," he rolled his eyes, wandering towards the bigger parts of the house - the living room where people danced by the speakers, doors leading out towards a pool and patio.

"Is this your first party?" he asked Mal before taking a swig of his beer, waving to another small group.

"My hair is fine." It doesn't look like that at all. What would that even look like, sleeping on books?

As to the party, "Since being here, yes. Never thought of myself as much of a party person."

"Come on, surely you went to someone's birthday party back in high school," he insisted, moving them out of the heat of the house to the cooler night, the pool light from the bottom, casting shifting light reflections across the other party goers, them included.

"Yes, back home, sure, a few parties, now and again, but not here in San Francisco," he elaborated, following. "Look, if you want me to drink, I'll drink; if you want me to talk to people, I'll try. Parties should be about...relaxing, hm? You can tell I'm out of practice about that."

"I don't want you to do anything," he looked at him, coming in close and wrapping his arm around the other's waist to move him along around the edge of the pool. "Like you said, I just want you to have fun or something at least." He looked up at him. "If you decide you're having the most terrible time ever, we'll go. But you promised me an hour to try it."

The intimate gesture startled him, but maybe he was just being...too uptight. As usual. Right, that needed fixing. He needed to socialize and whatever else was going on. (Hovering around the pool wasn't doing him any favours, but he wouldn't have to stick around there for long.)

"Right, you're right, I apologize. I'm being...fatalistic. I'll go inside and schmooze."

Kirk turned his head to look at him, as if weighing the truth of that. But he did slid his arm away from him, giving his bicep a gentle squeeze. "Good. There are bound to be others here you'll like talking too. Just give it a try. You can call me if you need to get bailed out." He flashed him a bright smile. "I want to go say hi to a few more people, so you'll be okay on your own for a little?"

"I'm not a child; I can handle myself." He might be young, but no child. "It's just a party, not a tactical operation." He should be fine. It's just an hour. Maybe he'll enjoy himself!

He slapped his shoulder with a laugh. "There you go! That's attitude!"

Kirk saluted the other with his beer before finally moving away from him and towards a small group who all greeted him with waves and even a few hugs, one with a kiss. He slipped into the group easily, looking back over his shoulder and winking at Malcolm in encouragement.

Good. Great. Now he was on his own to do that schmoozing he'd just said he would. With a nervous wave, he turned and went back inside. Maybe he ought to drink some. Might loosen him up. He was usually pretty good flying solo or with a small group. Drop by a bar, flirt with someone cute, he wasn't completely hopeless or oblivious. But a party full of people he didn't know at all was intimidating.

Right. Okay. Just...find someone he vaguely recognizes from a class and say hi. Or find an attractive woman and say hi? Both would be better. Is he overthinking this?

But what he didn't plan for was someone else starting the conversation, passing by and then doubling back, all "Hey, aren't you...?" No according to plan, but it beat seeking someone out to start something.

The cadet had promised to leave Mal alone and fly solo for a bit. He hadn't heard a splash in the pool, so he kept assuming he was fine. Maybe he worried a little bit for the other. He had never seen him in a real social situation - class so didn't count. And as much as he teased him, he did want the other to have a good time. He was smart and good looking even if he didn't know it himself, and Kirk liked him as a roommate for all they butted heads. But as the night wore on and the other didn't come around or call needing help, and he imbibed a bit more beer, well, he was either worried or -

Wait, wasn't that Mal right there? He could see him through the crowd, chatting to someone, hips cocked or some shit. Damn he liked those jeans on the other. He had picked them out for him, of course he liked them.

He extracted himself for his current group, making his way over to the tactical cadet. His arms slid around him, chin resting on his shoulder from behind, turning his head in to nuzzle just below his ear. "Hey. Having fun?" he purred to him.

There may in fact have been a cant to his hips. While not the most comfortable, some time around people and a few mild conversations had left him less anxious than he'd been before. And maybe with a little alcohol in the mix to warm him up. Also, ladies? Ladies. There were definitely some here.

On the other hand, it could be that he's knee-deep in a very heated discussion, definitely not argument, about American beers (or swill, the same bloody thing) and how they rank against proper English beers. Which was fun in its own right. And no, the fact that he had imbibed in some at the party did not make him impartial. And then there were arms around him and a very warm weight at his back, cutting him off mid-sentence in surprise.

"Jim," he answered warily. "Not as much fun as you've apparently been having, if I had to guess."

He caught something about that as he had come up. Why was he arguing about beers? Beer was beer, and while there were definitely some better than others, one didn't complain when the beer was free. It was just bad manners to do that. If you were paying for it, bitch all you wanted. But at a party? No. That was a party foul.

"Hmm, so you have been having fun. That's good," the cadet turned his head, nipping at Mal's ear, his arms tightening around his waist, thumbs hooking into Mal's jeans. His lips moved, nuzzling at the space just beneath the corner of his jaw. "I was worried you'd gotten locked in a room or something."

Nothing like a little friendly America vs England banter about something they could all appreciate. It wasn't like he was complaining about free-flowing beer to the host of the party. Although he did smile awkwardly at the indecipherable look of his debate partner. Maybe it said 'are you two...?' or maybe it said 'oh it's Jim Kirk' or something else altogether. But it was time to move away from this so he could pry Kirk off him.

"If I were to get locked in a room, it would be with someone who could truly appreciate some of my more intimate talents," he joked, though he tugged at one of Jim's hands. "Feeling a little drunk, are we?"

"You don't think I could appreciate them?" Kirk pouted, because he was indeed a tad drunk, as was proper at any good party. At least he wasn't sloppy drunk, able to be coordinated, but it meant he was prone to giggling and touching, surprisingly affectionate when in his cups.

He twisted his hand in Mal's, threading their fingers, nosing at his shoulder with a happy hum.

"You ready to go home?" he asked Mal, turning now, coming up beside him and wriggling beneath his arm, his own around Mal's waist. "I did say you only had to stay for an hour."

All right, he wasn't sure if they were going to draw stares or not, but he also wasn't sure he wanted to risk that. "We can stay, if you'd like. I'm up for that." He wasn't having a terrible time, although in another hour he'd probably use up any patience to be around other people. "If you'd like to go schmooze with more people, and more drinks. ...Well, people at least. Should probably lay off the drink for a bit."

That drew a giggle out of him. Why, he couldn't say, but it did. Besides, the party was kind of a dude. He wrinkled his nose and leaned in, kissing the corner of Mal's lip.

"No, we can go. I'll be leaving with the prettiest person at the party this way," he laughed, tugging the other along - or more rather pushing given their positions. Luckily he knew the way out, and the walk would do him good on getting back to their place.

"Jim," he groused, leaning away but getting pulled along nonetheless. "You're getting nothing but water and food when we get back to sober you up and fight the oncoming hangover. Clearly you're a little more drunk than you think." Prettiest person? Kisses? Sure, they don't hate each other, but they butt heads often enough that this all seems...sudden. Must be a flirty drunk. ...Flirtier drunk. Somehow.

Was it really sudden? He'd spent the so much time around Mal, watching him in the quiet hours of the morning, when he studied, seen him when he showered, he dressed. He'd had breakfast with him and dinners - fast food, granted, but still. Really, Mal probably knew him better than anyone else he hung out with through virtue of simply being around him the most. In the end, it was Mal he always came home to.

"Can we have pizza? I think I want pizza," he hummed as they made their way out the front door and into the San Francisco night, his hand moving and tucking into Mal's back pocket, cupping the curve of his bottom while they walked.

Just grin and bear it. They'd be home soon enough, and a little beer and a little not-at-all-disastrous socializing had loosened him up. What was he going to do, shove Jim away and let him find his own way home? He'd never see his roomie again, probably. So he let out a little sigh and nudged their heads together. "Pizza sounds great. How about Hawaiian? I'll call one in when we get back."

Another laugh left him, warm and soft, turning his head to nuzzle at him. "Sounds great," he hummed against his ear. "Get some breadsticks too?" he asked him, kissing behind his ear before pulling away so Malcolm could make the call. Well, pull away might be a strong choice of words when what he did was lay his head on Malcolm's shoulder as they walked.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject