fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room, Saturday Morning

Entry tags:

Fifth Floor Common Room, Saturday Morning

It was really a shame that no one had ever taught Roscoe to cook. He had been raised to believe that take-out was the most practical and delicious choice, so at fifteen, he now found that anything more complicated than a sandwich was out of his depth.

To his credit, he tried. Today his experiment du jour was simply an attempt at scrambled eggs. And twenty minutes and lots of dirty dishes later, he was sitting on the couch eating cold pizza he had found in the fridge. So... you could pretty much guess how that had gone.

Pizza was better anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dante had actually been talking about the plates, since the pizza had been there yesterday, but hey. "It's chill, right?" he said, pulling a whole pizza out of the fridge. "Somebody finally figured out the perfect life-school balance."

Pizza acquired, he wandered back towards the sitting area. "What'd you get slapped with, besides Lecter and Starsmore?"

Or that! "'Working the Long Con' and 'Building Healthy Relationships,'" Roscoe said around a bite of pizza. "That last one was so not my idea. I'm so over healthy relationships."

Which he said kind of sarcastically, but it was partly true. "How about you?"

"Laying Low," Dante said, shrugging idly, an amused look on his face.

He collapsed on the sofa, taking up as much space as possible. "So far I've found out laying 'high' is more fun than 'low', go figure."

"Yeah," Roscoe agreed. "Sublety's overrated. Just one more example of the school system not teaching us the important stuff."

You know, like how to make a splash and cause as much chaos as possible.

Many people would argue Dante did not need more help doing that.

In fact, one of those people would probably be his Laying Low teacher.

"Like how to not have healthy relationships and just sleep around instead?" he offered, taking a bite of his pizza. "We need a Hooking Up class."

"That is a genius idea," Roscoe declared, pointing the tip of his pizza slice in Dante's direction. "You should suggest that to the administration. Except - then we'd have to hear one of the teachers actually talk about hooking up and that might be hard to stomach."

Well, maybe it depended on the teacher. "Actually, Constantine's hot," he mused, tilting his head thoughtfully.

"Eh," Dante said. "Still a teacher, though. And probably doesn't let anyone bang in the library."

The hotness of people was inversely proportional to how high their Authority Figure Levels were.

"That is pretty unforgivable," Roscoe admitted. "Guess we'll have to keep Hooking Up class extracurricular."

He did not look bummed out about that.

"So more of a Hooking Up club?" Dante said merrily, because god knew there'd never been a pun he'd passed up on. "I could live with that."

"Dibs on being president," Roscoe said immediately, with a grin. "That's just the kind of leadership opportunity I need to not get into college."

"So if I'm veep, does that mean I have to work under you?" Dante asked, taking another bite of pizza, as he mulled over this really important question.

"Only sometimes. I don't know about you, but I'm versatile," Roscoe said, his eyes twinkling mischeviously. "As a leader, of course."

"Up, down, straight ahead, not so straight ahead," Dante said, stretching his legs out over the arm of the sofa. "Yeah, I think I got most of my angles handled."

"Sounds like something I should see in action." Roscoe shifted on the couch, lazily sliding into a position that could be described as 'taking up as much space as possible.' "You seem cocky."

Who said only Dante could use predicable wordplay?

Not Dante, who snickered a little in appreciation of predictable worldplay, because he was into that kind of thing.

"I am cocky," he said, smirking over at Roscoe. "And I earned it."

Roscoe let that sentence hang in the air between them as he skimmed his gaze up and down Dante's body.

"You know, one of these days I'm going to have to ask you to prove it."

"Now I'm shaking in my boots," Dante said.

Except, you know, not at all. "See, I wanna know if you're as much fun as you seem."

To be fair, this was plenty of fun already. This crop of newbies knew how to fling back what they got.

Roscoe smirked. "The feeling's mutual." But it was all tell and no show so far, and that had to change. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm heading home today," Dante said, shrugging slightly. "But we're parked outside a bar. Wanna kill the Mondays by heading out there next week?"

"That sounds cool." It actually sounded awesome - that bar looked pretty swanky, and Dante was pretty hot - but Roscoe was totally chill about this, really.

"We made fake IDs in one of my classes, so it'll be chill to finally break that in," he shared. "You should know, 21-year-old Roscoe is pretty cool, but don't be intimidated."

Smirk.

Dante grinned. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Think I can power through it. Between 21-year-old you and 22-year-old me, it's the rest of the bar that's gonna have reason to worry."

Roscoe grinned. "You got that right." Statistically, it was unlikely that the non-Fandomite patrons of Milliways were as good-looking as Fandom kids, and specifically Dante and Roscoe. That was just science. "So that place looks pretty nice. Are we dressing up? 'Cause I can bring my A-game."

"Depends on what you're calling dressing up," Dante decided. "'Cause I don't know about you, but I am not a suit kinda guy."

The corset was getting old, anyway. He should figure something cool out.

"Hey. You're talking to a guy who wore a sundress on his first day of school," Roscoe reminded him. "Creative dressing up is encouraged."

"Thanks," Dante said, amused as hell. "You better bring your A-game, though."

(no subject)

thewrathofkaan - 2016-05-21 20:27 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only