fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Boys' Bathroom; Monday Evening [ 03/23 ].

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Third Floor Boys' Bathroom; Monday Evening [ 03/23 ].

All Cal wanted was a place where he could shower without having to be insanely self-conscious (despite the fact that who would even look?) and be able to pee sitting down in peace. It wasn't too much to ask, one would think, but it seemed like it was too much to expect, as his usual bathroom was veritably all full up.

And so Cal relocated down a floor, peeked in, saw that it was so far, so good, and wished that you could just lock the doors.

[[ Cal is seeking privacy, so of course I had to do this and make the post is wide, wide open! ]]

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Chuck was in the bathroom to check his hair and not shave his chest, thank you very much. This was his floor, he was allowed to do that.

And, being Chuck, he ignored anybody else already in there. They just weren't worth his time.

"God damn it," Cal said, before he could stop it, and wondered if it was too late to retreat again without making himself seem like even a bigger prude than he had upstairs.

But dammit he had a damn good reason for being a prude.

Well, Chuck couldn't ignore that. "Got a problem, Stephanides?"

Yes.

"You going to be in here long?" he asked, and then figured, yes, probably. It probably took Chuck hours to shellack that hair of his with douchebag product.

At least Cal had the comfort of not feeling bad showing his animosity in this case.

Edited 2009-03-24 02:21 (UTC)

"Well, I wasn't initially," Chuck admitted. "But since it seems to annoy you so much...I might spend a bit more time in here than I intended."

What he was going to do in a bathroom, he didn't know, but he'd figure out something if it was going to annoy Cal.

"Not like there aren't other bathrooms," Cal said, although his options were dwindling. "So you have fun with that, Chuck."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chuck asked. "You shy or something?"

"No," Cal said, "I just don't like you."

And he didn't like the icky feeling in his stomach because he knew what happened last time something with Chuck giving him crap about being pent up turned out.

"Oh, that's new and different," Chuck said with a roll of his eyes. "If you'd like to make a public complaint with people who feel the same way there's a website I can point you to."

"I'm not surprised," Cal intentionally avoided rolling his eyes because Chuck had gotten to the expression first. "But I'll pass. Better things to waste my time on."

"Just trying to help," Chuck said with an easy shrug. "Answer me a question, Stephanides, is this level of tense normal for you or have I just been catching you on bad days? Because, I've got to say, you always seem one broken nail away from freaking out."

"No, Chuck," Cal said with a sigh, as if he knew that he was probably not saying anything Chuck hadn't heard before from other people equally annoyed by him. "It's just that all my days happen to become bad after you catch me. Funny how that works."

"You know, that does seem to happen a lot," he said, smirking. "Can't imagine why."

"Yeah," Cal said, shaking his head. "Me, neither. World just works in weird ways, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does," Chuck replied. "Is this because your little girlfriend likes spending time with me?"

Cal arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't even aware that Claire liked spending time with you," he muttered.

And it didn't matter if she did. Claire could spend time with assholes if she wanted to; it was totally her prerogative and it didn't bother him. At all. Really.

...Fucking redheads always had it in for the jerks. Chuck Bass probably killed a girlfriend, too, just like fucking Rex Reese.

Excuse you, Chuck had never killed a girlfriend. He killed his mom.

"Oh yeah, Claire and I are good friends," Chuck said, exaggerating a bit. "She and I had a nice little sleepover."

Oh, killing family members. Big deal. Cal was just one brother away from having killed off the entire line of properly male Stephanideses.

"Well, we all have our slips in judgment, I guess," said Cal, whose nails were totally not digging into his palm right now, really.

"She's slipped a couple of times, actually," Chuck replied with a smile.

"We've all got our bad habits, too."

"Oooh went from being a slip in judgment to a bad habit in a couple of seconds," Chuck said. "Damn, I'm good."

"There were withheld details," Cal pointed out. And he was absolutely fine with any other details continuing to be withheld, thank you.

"I'm not one to kiss and tell," he replied. And then after a second he added, "Not literally in Claire's case, of course."

Really.

You didn't want to know, Stephanides. You didn't care, really, you didn't. At all. You couldn't even be annoyed at having kissed someone who kissed Chuck Bass because you've kissed him, and, be honest, who hasn't?

"Metaphorically," he said. "Right."

Feeling that he had done his job and annoyed Cal as much as he could at the moment, Chuck gave him a tight-lipped smile and backed away from the mirror.

"Well, I think that's enough coiffing for now," he said. "I'll see you around, Stephanides."

"You sure that's enough?" asked Cal. "I think you may have missed a spot exfoliating."

Then his head tilted thoughtfully. "Or maybe that's just how your face always looks."

"Oooh, harsh," Chuck said, putting a hand on his chest. "I'll definitely cry myself to sleep over that one."

Hey, Cal never expected it to be effective; he just wanted to say it.

"Happy to help."

The fifth floor's shower was acting weird.

The fourth floor seemed to be occupied in the extreme.

So here Sam was on the third floor, looking to shower. "Oh, hey, dude," he said when he saw Cal.

Cal sighed. No one ever seemed to want to take showers on Monday night before! It was supposed to be a safe time.

"Hey." His shoulders sagged slightly, thinking that at least maybe he still had the fifth floor he could count on. And the second. So help him...

Sam was kind of slow, but he wasn't that dense. "Is something wrong? Oh, man, is the shower down here messed up, too?"

Oh, God. Cal's heart dropped into his stomach a little. "Messed up too?" he asked. "Which other one is messed up?"

"Uh, fifth floor?" Sam said. "You know, where I live? Except I guess you don't know that, or, you know, you might, and you were just checking, but if you didn't, whatever, it's cool, it's not like I expect everyone to know me or something."

Well, there went another option.

And Cal bet that, with his luck, there was probably some brain eating monster lurking in the second floor bathroom drains...

He rubbed his face a little with his hand. "I haven't checked the heads in here yet; I just got here."

"Oh, well, uh, I guess we should do that, huh, before we start worrying or whatever," Sam said. "They might be fine, right?"

Cal wondered if it was just his nerves, or if this guy was oddly nervous. He considered how going downstairs once more might be futile, but then remembered that Chuck Bass was still here.

"How about," he suggested, "you do that, and I'll check downstairs?"

Somewhere between 'nervous that he might have to go to another floor' and 'the babble is strong with this one.' "Oh, really?" Sam asked. "I don't think that's necessary, I mean, if the shower's working up here why would you want to go down another floor? So we can check this one first, and if it's working, great."

This was no time for logic! And Cal felt that he couldn't very well just answer that Chuck Bass was Annoying Incarnate.

And Cal seemed to have spent all of quick wit on Lee yesterday.

"I'm just...curious now," he slowly offered. "I mean, if it's a problem across the board, it seems the sort of thing we might want to tell them about so they could fix it."

...Not bad, not bad, Stephanides.

"I don't think there was a problem on the fourth floor," Sam said. "There were just a bunch of guys. So probably this floor is fine. We should at least check before you go traipsing down another flight of stairs, dude, you know, least effort and all that, right?"

"Okay, good point," Cal acquiesced. "Go check the showerhead."

Sam rolled his eyes and went to check the shower. "Hey!" he called, and jumped out of the way. Too late: his shirt was already spattered with water. "It works!"

And Cal? Was already gone, having taken the chance to duck back out of the bathroom while he could without having to explain himself.

That? Had worked beautifully.

Sam came to the only logical conclusion. "That guy's crazy."

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Third Floor Boys' Bathroom; Monday Evening [ 03/23 ].

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