fandomhighdorms | 3rd Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening

It was definitely going to be one of those evenings. One of those weird ones. The sort that reminded unsuspecting passers-by that, in no uncertain terms, they were living on Fandom Island.

How did it manage such a thing?

Well, that there were two boys in the common room, exchanging gossip, probably wasn't all that new. That they were in their underwear, on the other hand, was probably an indication that things were a little off. One of the boys, the one who was wearing the world's most boring grey boxer shorts, was at least still wrapped in black leather from his nose down to his navel. The other, in white briefs, had his large white wings folded behind him.

Both of them were quite comfortable on the floor, surrounded by cushions from the couch, sparkly make-up, and girly teen magazines. Warren was painting his fingernails in a vivid shade of sparkly blue. Jono was hugging a pillow to his chest, reaching over occasionally to pet a bewildered kitten with a big pink bow around her neck, while reading off the questions to an 'Is He Really Into You' quiz to Warren.

By the end of the quiz, it became apparent that whoever 'he' was, they simply weren't as into Warren as he might have hoped, and with an indignant squeal of "Omigod! Not fair," the winged one capped his nail polish, reached for his pillow, bounced to his feet, and let Jonothon have it.

Oh, it was on.

[I totally blame

glacial_witch and

trigons_child for this one. The common room is open, for anyone who wants to either rescue the boys from this indignity, pull out a video camera, or join in the pillow fight!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me that you didn't see the girls-only signs on the doors!"

The ones that weren't there, yes. Those were pretty difficult to miss, right?

"I bet you just came in here to see us girls doing our girl stuff."

//I bet he totally wanted to just see if he could hear us talking about him,// Jono offered, helpfully, from where he was standing.

Wesley was kind of cute, okay? If Jono was batting his eyelashes at him from across the room... well... At least he was slightly more clothed than Warren, right?

Oh, dear lord, that was one of the most disturbing things ever. Okay. He was just going to go ahead and pretend he hadn't noticed the eyelash-batting going on, because, wow, awkward.
"I did no such thing!" Wesley protested. Then, clearly thinking he was about to make a breakthrough, he reasoned, "I... didn't see any such signs, but then, I often overlook things of that nature. Perhaps you could show me?"

And that would stop the, er, girl stuff. Hopefully.

//Oh, I can! I can!//

Brace yourself, Wesley. Jono had graduated right along from eyelash batting to running across the room and making a reach to hold your hand. Because clearly, that was the best way ever to show you where things were!

//They're right over heeeere!//

Oh.

Yeah.

That was... No.

Wesley did his best to extricate his hand from Jono's before some kind of hand-holding-triggered apocalypse could happen. "Right," he said, surveying the invisible signage. "Yes, er, thank you, Jono."

Hopefully he didn't have a new name like Jennifer or something.

//Joanne,// Jono corrected, without missing a beat. //Hiiiii.//

... And more of that eyelash thing. At least he had very expressive eyes?

"Joanne and Wesley, sitting in a treeeee," Warren taunted in a singsong, before squealing and making a grab for his pillow again. You never knew when something was going to get thrown at you, around here!

The eyelash thing, while a sign of very expressive eyes, only compounded the horror. Not to mention the introduction of the kissing song. That was not something he needed to hear. And he certainly didn't want any rumors getting back to the girlfriend. That would be difficult to explain.

"Er -- that'll be quite enough of that," he told Warren in his best attempt at being firm. He prayed that that wouldn't have any effect on their, er, feelings toward him.

Really, with as amorous as Jono was trying to be, at least a little effect wouldn't do any harm, right?

//I made the signs myself,// he intoned, deciding that giving a still-singing Warren the cold shoulder was absolutely the best response, here. //With sparkles.//

Oh, well, if the effect was to minimize their affections, that would be fine. But tragically, it didn't seem to be working out that way.

"And they're quite nice," Wesley replied politely. Then the implication of that comment hit him and he quickly tried to backtrack. "Er -- I mean -- they're horrible! Yes, truly, er, dreadful," he decided, trying to be convincing here. "Far too, er, sparkly. Yes."

On the upside, at least Jono wasn't batting his eyelashes anymore? No, no, he was totally looking fretful, now, like perhaps he could burst into tears at any moment.

//... Do you really mean that...?//

"I told you you should have used the scratch-and-sniff stickers instead," Warren offered, from not far off.

But... but now he looked so sad! No matter. Wesley had to continue with this. To what end, he had no idea.

"Er. Yes," Wesley said, trying to be forceful. "Yes, it was... dreadful. Not at all artistic. The color ratio was all off."

Dear lord, he hoped Jono thought he'd used colors.

//But... but... Purple and yellow are complimentary,// Jono protested, wide-eyed.

Really, if he could cry, he totally would be. Fortunate, weren't you, that his body wasn't there enough to allow for certain functions, huh, Wesley?

//I didn't think you were so mean! Meanie!//

"Told you," Warren intoned, solemnly. "He's just a jerk."

Good god, yes, he certainly was fortunate. Jono crying would be kind of traumatizing.
"I am not a jerk!" he protested instinctively. Then he hastily amended it. "Er, no, you're quite right. I am a jerk. You -- certainly wouldn't want to flirt with me. Ever."

He just radiated bad-boy appeal, didn't he?

Warren quirked his eyebrow at Wesley at that, and then crossed his arms over his chest and tapped a foot on the floor.

"Never? Ever?"

And then there was a slow, feminine, wicked smile creeping over Warren's cherry Lip-Smackers glossed lips.

"I think we should totally corner him and kiss him, Jo."

... Run.

Wesley let out a shriek that was irrefutably girly, then turned and dashed out of the room.

Thank you, Warren and Jono, for clearing up any misconceptions that Wesley had an ounce of badass demon-hunter-ness in his body.

He fled and didn't stop until he reached his room. And then he locked the door. Just to be safe.

3rd Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening

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