fandomhighdorms | The Deck [Saturday late afternoon]

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The Deck [Saturday late afternoon]

It was finally spring, and that meant two things. One, that the weather was nice enough for Ramona to stretch out on the deck, on this lazy, lazy Saturday afternoon. Not nice enough to like, grab her bikini or anything, but nice enough that she could sit out here while her hair dried. The days were longer, she had a hoodie for when it got cold, and it was just relaxing after finishing her semester.

Which was the second thing. Spring was a time of change, and Ramona had been feeling restless in blue for a little while. So while she flipped through her book, wincing occasionally at scary parts, her newly-magenta hair did the last of its drying.

Kinda couldn't beat it, as far as Ramona was concerned. At least for now. Tomorrow she might hate lazy spring days, depending on her fancy.

[totally open deck, yes, i am bored.]

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"Here and there," Nathan said, shrugging. "Last night, I bunked on a particularly comfortable couch in a hotel lobby after bribing the bloke at the desk not to call the cops. It wasn't too bad. Some kid smacked me in the face with a toy this morning but otherwise, not too bad."

"You can stay with me tonight," she offered, trying not to let her features betray how much the idea of him having to sleep on a hotel couch bothered her. "What happened with your roommate?"

Nathan thought about that one for a minute before he made a face. "You know, I don't really fucking know."

Well, he did kind of know but it was a weirdly complicated story that he didn't feel like getting into right now.

"One day I mattered to her and then the next I mattered less to her and once she told me that, I wasn't really feeling sticking around. I didn't see the point."

Ramona's frown deepened, her brow creasing. "Wait, wait -- she told you that? She just told you that? Who do you live with, when you're not bumming around?"

Because that was just shitty to say, even if Ramona was pretty sure Nathan might be spinning it a little, or leaving out details. She didn't care, though.

"Caroline," he provided, still forcing himself to sound totally casual about all this so he couldn't end up angry again. "Hot blonde chick with a fashion sense that most women could cut their sister for and not feel bad about it at all. Yeah, her."

Ramona arched a brow at that description, but the name actually struck a chord with her for a different reason. "Jacob was married to her that weekend when we were all twenty years older," she remembered, and if that was sticking in her brain for any particular reason, she wasn't going to mention it.

"Yeah, well," Nathan said, waving a hand in the air and scattering some smoke, "I'm sure she's off having fun with him right now without the whole twenty years older thing. It's been a thing with them lately, you know? I, for one, am just thrilled for those two crazy lovebirds."

Or he was still pissed, take your pick.

And for Ramona, who hadn't quite realized, that was a little bit of a blow. She set that aside, because silly crushes were just that -- silly -- and instead focused on Nathan, who was clearly still pissed.

And he clearly liked his roommate, too, but Ramona felt that was probably as immaterial as whatever she thought she might have felt for Jacob for like, a second. (And this was how it always went for her, anyway. Ramona couldn't have nice things.)

"No, you're not, but that's okay," she offered, trying not to let herself sound angry or upset on her own count. "That sucks. That sucks. Do you want me to bitchslap her for you?"

Ramona, clearly, did not know about Caroline's condition, but she did know she had a mallet.

Edited 2011-04-24 01:37 (UTC)

That was slightly tempting for a few seconds but eventually, Nathan shook his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. Thanks, though. Little you offered something similar and I almost took you up on it then but yeah, it's not that big a deal."

And Nathan did know about Caroline so he didn't see that ending well for Ramona. Of course, he did not know about the mallet.

"But hey, if you wanna smack me around, I probably wouldn't object. I like a little aggression in my girls."

It was one of his better attempts at a change of subject.

"You don't want me to hit you," she said softly, shaking her head and letting that subject change. "I hit really hard, Nathan. I told you that before."

A pause, and then, "I get it, if it helps. And you can stay with me as long as you need. I won't even make you pay a sex rent."

"A sex rent?" Nathan asked, laughing when he'd been prepared to argue about being able to take it when people hit him. "What if I wanted to pay a sex rent? I actually have sex to give!"

Unlike, you know, money.

"I know, but I'm just saying, it won't be obligatory," she said, smiling. "Plus I think it might just make Leo feel weird if you propositioned him."

"Yeah, I don't do blokes no matter how ethereal -- " That just sounded like a nice, big word to use there. " -- they might be. My dick might come into contact with his dick and then there'll be sexual confusion and the need for epiphanies and I've just got too much going on for that."

"I think Leo's still afraid of my boobs specifically and sex in general, so no worries there," Ramona said, shaking her head. "But thank you for your eloquence. I'm not letting you sleep in random places, though, so that's one thing you don't have to worry about, amongst sexual confusion and whatnot."

"Hey, I've been making due," Nathan argued even if he didn't really want to keep sleeping on couches and shit. "It's kinda like camping except there isn't a tent, there aren't any s'mores, there's no sleeping bag, and there aren't any girls hopefully wearing shirts with no bras and thinking the thin walls of their tent will keep them hidden."

"I'm sure you have, but I'm not above using force, and not in some cutesy way like you think," Ramona said. "I don't care if leprechauns are nomadic or you think it's like camping, you're going to get hurt or sick or something and frankly I'm probably already going to hell and I don't need this on my conscience, too. You can camp in my room. I might not even wear a bra."

There. That wasn't like, sappy or anything, despite the fact that she really was worried about him. But she didn't think he'd appreciate her saying so.

Edited 2011-04-24 02:15 (UTC)

"Fiiiiiine," Nathan said even if it wasn't that hard a decision. Bunking in someone's room was preferable to bunking in random motels all the time. It saved money and he didn't have to worry about some seven foot tall biker named Fang busting into his room and asking him to hide the drugs for him.

Not that that had happened...lately.

"And, you know, thanks," he said, quieter than before. He appreciated the hospitality but it was hard to express that. "I won't wear a bra either unless you're into that sort of thing and then maybe I will."

"If I catch you in one of my bras I'm going to yell at you," she said mildly, raising a brow. Because she would. And then mock him for not filling it out.

"And you're welcome," she added, slanting a look at him with a little smile. "Any time. Unless I catch you going through my underwear drawer or something."

And she'd probably still let him stay then. Shhh, she was a softer touch than she'd like anyone to know.

"God, you're not gonna let me have any fun, are you?" He tried to sound offended and oh so put out but there was some relief sprinkled in there at the thought of knowing he'd have at least a floor to sleep during his self imposed exile from his room.

"And I was going to give you free run of my clothes," he added after a moment. "I've got some thoroughly amazing trousers and t-shirts in there not to mention by unmentionables."

She glanced at his legs, raised a brow, and added, "You know, I bet your pants would actually fit okay, but I'm going to say no thanks? But hey, nice of you to offer. You're still not going through my underwear. And don't complain or I'll exclusively wear my least sexy pajamas."

Nathan didn't know what it said about him that she was not the first person to say that about his trousers. His poor skinny legs got absolutely no respect.

"What are your least sexy pajamas?" he asked, curious.

"High-necked flannel," she answered easily, shrugging. "Utterly uninteresting."

"And what if flannel is one of my kinks?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow. "I own some flannel myself, you know. Perhaps I enjoy the friction the soft fabric can create across one's body. Perhaps that's all I'd be thinking about with you in those pajamas."

"Enjoy the image, then," Ramona said, lazily stretching her long, long legs out in front of her. "Meanwhile, I'll keep on sleeping in little shorts and tiny tops. It's too warm for flannel."

"And yet, you'd wear flannel just to put me off?" Nathan asked, laughing. "I think I should feel honored that you'd risk turning into a sweaty, smelly mess just to make me stay away."

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