universal_charm | [ LOCKED ] The Odd Couple

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[ 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.

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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.

It was actually kind of cozy, even if it was strange. He hadn't been the object of this common enough side of Jim's affections yet, but, well, there were plenty of reasons for that. Best not think about it too hard; it'll all work itself out in the morning. So, pizza, and yes, breadsticks. Might as well get enough to stick in the fridge for leftovers. He can splurge for tonight.

"Are you always this affectionate when you've had just this side of too much to drink?" Maybe he just hadn't found a being to bring back and kick out in the morning at the party.

"I'm always affectionate," he pouted at him at the slight, but his face smoothed as he thought on something, the alcohol reducing his inhibitions, removing the filters he usually kept up.

He looked up at him, biting his lip a little. "I've wanted to hit on you, you know. I mean, you're good looking, and you're smart. Kind of a stick in the mud sometimes, but I mean you're a good guy. I just haven't cause, I dunno, I didn't want things being weird between us. I like you, I don't want to fuck that up."

"...Is that so?" He only spared Jim a brief glance. Looking might be...awkward. Just keep an eye on the sidewalk. "To my knowledge, you've never hesitated to flirt with anyone else. Is it just weird because we live together?"

"Maybe. And I was never sure if you'd like it," he paused them, turning Mal to face him, looking at the slightly shorter man. "I couldn't never tell what you were into, and I didn't want to freak you out or something. Hell, for all I knew you'd request a transfer out of the room and then what would I do?" He leaned in, nosing at his cheek.

Edited 2015-02-23 04:12 (UTC)

"If I were made terribly uncomfortable, I suppose I might, but I still might wait until the end of the year--but that's not the point you're getting at."

Part of him wanted to just nip this in the bud before any feelings got hurt. To laugh and nudge Jim away and say sorry, men, not his area, what a shame. But hell, how was he really to know? He was barely legal as it was, hadn't exactly had a lot of experience with...anything. And wasn't this the kind of age meant for experimenting?

Still, it's Jim, and his roommate. "You'd make a point of finding me in the hall and mercilessly flirting with me, that's what you would do. Do you really like me all that much?"

He leaned back a little, cupping his jaw, his thumb tracing over the length of his chin and down his neck. He kept his hand in the other's back pocket to keep him close, nudging their foreheads together.

"Yeah, guess I do," he murmured, which he would never had said sober. Ever. He never had reason to say it to anyone else, mostly because it wouldn't have been true, so even if he did, it didn't matter. With Mal, yeah, maybe it kind of mattered.

He was his friend, after all. Which was had kept him from moving in before now, twisted as it might be.

Well. None of that was where he thought the evening would go. The closeness made sure his attention was on Jim and nowhere else. Malcolm swallowed, shifting a hand to Jim's side. "You probably won't feel that way in the morning, when you're sober," he said, dipping his gaze low. "Whether you're just looking for a romp in the sheets or if you're suggesting something else--" God, was that what Jim was suggesting? "It might not be how you really feel."

"Well, no way to tell unless we try it, right?" he asked him, nuzzling the high arch of his cheekbone.

He pulled away from the other - well, not pulled away, simply shifted them so that they could continue walking. His arm staid around Malcolm's waist, hand in his back pocket as the looming structure of their dorm approached.

"Still going to order that pizza?" he asked him, fumbling in his pocket for his ID to swipe and get into the building

Wait for them both to sober and then discuss it later. No wait, wait for them both to sober and then never bring it up again except maybe in hushed, rushed apologies they'll pretend not to know what for. Malcolm frowned at himself. It could be nice. Something to get out of the way?

He reached over to steady Jim's hand. "Yeah, still ordering that pizza. Unless you've changed your mind about what you want. Food-wise, I mean."

"No, pizza is fine," he shook his head, though it would probably take a good while to get here, being a weekend and all. And all the parties around here liked to order from the same places - student specials and all that jazz.

He swiped and the door thunked open, releasing the lock. He tugged, moving inside without tottering and found the elevator, the call button reading his biometrics and going green to let him on. Star Fleet took the protection of its students seriously.

"Whoever thought of putting pineapple on a pizza?" he mused as they rode up to their floor. "I mean, fruit and cheese go together, sure, but that's like grapes and shit, you know? Not pineapple. Pineapple is an island fruit."

He frowned, making his way down the hall to their door room, frowning again as he patted at his pocket for his card to swipe and unlock their door, forgetting the door was equipped with another biometric lock.

Malcolm rolled his eyes a bit and took care of the lock for Jim, tugging him into their room. "But you wouldn't put grapes on a pizza, and pineapple tastes just fine. There are much worse things you could put on. Like anchovies. Who thought that up, that's what I want to know." He maneuvered Jim toward Jim's bed to sit him down.

"Someone with a sick, twisted mind, that's who."

Bed. Oh his bed. That was one of his favorite places. Even more so with someone in it. He knew it made him seem like a playboy, the way he liked bringing in warm bodies to heat the sheets, but he slept better with someone beside, someone warm to wrap in his arms or to be wrapped up in.

He turned, arms sliding around Mal and tugging the other down onto the bed with him. He curled against him, humming as he pressed his face into the slightly smaller man's neck, kissing along the pulse.

He wasn't to leave Jim's bed for the moment, it seemed. Malcolm gave his thigh a pat as he called up one of the more reputable pizza joints for their order, and nobody had better complain about pineapple on pizza, right Jim?

And, well, it wasn't unpleasant to have Jim's bodily attention on him. While he could hardly say he'd been alone since coming here, leaving home behind and thus everything he'd known the way he had was both freeing and terrifying. But while he was here? He took advantage of the freeing side. Trying things he never had before, doing things he'd never been allowed to before. Never too late for a rebellious stage, right?

"You're very affectionate when you're tipsy, did I tell you that already?" Well, at least it was downgraded from 'drunk' to 'tipsy'. He still wasn't sure just where Jim fell, and whoever wanted to get taken advantage of in an inebriated state?

No, they had certainly better not.

"I'm always affectionate," he murmured, looking up at him.

This close to Malcolm, it was easy to see the gentle slope of his jaw and nose, not quite sharp. Easy to nuzzle against his. He was warm and not as gangly as Kirk had always thought he might feel. He had never seen Mal work out, but physical fitness was a requirement for them, so he could have known the other would do some sort of activity to keep in shape. Huh, why hadn't he ever thought on that before? Asked what he did?

"Doesn't bother you, does it?" it suddenly occurred to him to ask. He usually didn't really need to - most of his friends were used to his tactile nature, and no one had ever really protested before or told him to back off. Well, a few had, but it was rare. Mal wasn't pushing him away either at the moment, so he hoped it was okay as he curled against him, arms sliding around his chest, lips grazing the edge of that gentle jaw.

[ LOCKED ] The Odd Couple

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