3rd Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening

[wwiii]

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!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//If not, there's totally cream soda,// Jono offered, helpfully.

Not that he'd been drinking any of the above. That would just be awkward.

//And root beer, I think. Lots of root beer. We were going to make floats, later.//

Which Jono would also not be eating. He'd claim if asked that he was watching his girlish figure.

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the part where the root beer went right through Jono and made a sticky puddle on the ground? Totally awkward.

"Cream soda's gross," Quinn groused. "Floats ... are not bad. Were you guys doing a whole sugary underwear night?"

[wwiii]

"Movie night," Warren replied, practically chirping as he made his way over to the fridge. "We have some good romance-comedies, and popcorn, and we were just about to give one another pedicures!"

His fingers were already done. He totally needed sparkly blue toes to match.

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

"Regular old girl's night," Quinn said. "But that blue's kind of last season. Go for a lilac."

[wwiii]

Warren looked thoughtfully at his nails.

"Is it?"

He was putting way too much thought into this one.

"You know, I think I have a lilac, too." The float? Totally forgotten. It was an about-face and a forward march in search of the nail polish remover. "Would you like to join us?"

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

Definitely too much thought, especially since Quinn was pretty much messing with him.

"Sure," Quinn said lightly. "A girl has to look her best, doesn't she."

[wwiii]

"She does!"

... Warren was not allowed to giggle like that. Ever. Again.

"Toes, too? Or just a mani?"

[Bedtime! Sp?]

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

Oh, god, that giggle. Quinn was going to hear that giggle in her nightmares. "I think just a mani," she decided, waggling her fingers. "I don't want to go overboard."

[furnaceface]

//Better watch out,// Jono intoned from not far off, //she's got real bad aim. Gets polish all over the cuticles and everything!//

At this rate, it was a wonder that Warren didn't beat on Jonothon with a pillow more often.