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om_mainAfter Curtis has a weird day consisting of talking Nathan out of love confessing tattoos, he decides the best reaction is alcohol. Cue giggling, falling and discussions of slutdom with the morally looser of the resident speedsters.
As Curtis walked up the front steps of the school he pulled out his phone and searched through contacts before hitting the green button. It was answered quickly, not that it surprised the English boy at all.
"Yeah, alright mate? Look I've had the weirdest fucking day in existence. I seriously need a drink, wanna join me?"
Pietro, who was currently wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs and sat with his feet up on his desk, enjoying a netflix stream of Archer while simultaneously reading through crap for class, naturally replied with, "Hell yes. I tanked my stock on St. Patrick's day--we need to get hooked up, or what?"
"I already bargained with Bonita, think I might just have sold my soul to the devil there." Curtis chuckled though it was a tired, almost strained sound. "Your room clear or you could meet me at mine? I just, I need to be out of my mind right now." And if he accidentally changed to Mel, he at least knew he could trust Pietro.
"Vic's not around--and he won't care if we're drinking in here." Not like Victor had never been drunk in this room, anyhow, right? "C'mon up. I'll totally have pants on by then, even."
"Cool." And he hung up.
It didn't take long to climb the stairs and make his way through the boys wing, of course by then Pietro probably could've run a marathon or whatever. He knocked on the door lightly.
More appropriately attired in beat up jeans and a tight Star Wars t-shirt, Pietro yanked the door open and gestured for Curtis to enter. The Archer credits-song was playing in the background, but he figured he'd wait for Curtis to take care of that detail. "So, I'm guessing bargaining your soul away to Nita was after the weird shit--but I gotta say, if I was gonna let someone own part of me, she'd probably be on the list of possibilities. Well done." Well, for a night, anyhow.
Curtis shut the door behind himself and took his backpack off of his shoulder. It clinked from it's contents as he did so.
"I'm with you on that one." He nodded, though funnily enough he hadn't much thought about it. He harmlessly flirts a bit with basically all the the girls at work but that was it, it was harmless. Since the incident that was not going to be thought about, he kind of hadn't been as interested in that side of things. Then again, he hadn't been drinking either and that was changing right now.
"I don't even know where to begin, man." Curtis admitted as he sat heavily on the end of a bed.
"This just gets more and more ominous." But at least dude didn't look like he was going to cry or anything, so it probably wasn't anything to do with--well, that. (Not that Curtis would cry anyhow. But you know. In spirit.) Pietro zipped to his closet and produced from its perfectly ordered interior a pair of glasses--one featuring Rainbow Dash and the other featuring Pinkie Pie. MLP forever, yo. "Tell Auntie Pietro your story, and then we will erase it with--whatever you brought."
"Well, Auntie, these do for you?" And Curtis pulled out the two bottles he'd sold his soul for. He'd been assured by Nita this wasn't the cheap and nasty shit. Beyond that he didn't much care. Studying the labels in the light he could see that they were an odd combination but it had been what was in her car boot (well she'd called it a trunk. Weird.) left over from a house party. One bottle of sambucca, one bottle of vodka. "Want to pick our poison?"
"Oh dear god, you brought hangover in a bottle." Pietro laughed. He set down the glasses on the end table nearest to Curtis, who had chosen the spot just beneath Hope Solo on his bed, and zipped to the fridge to produce a can of Orange Crush. "Perfect with Vodka." He tossed it to Curtis. "We can start there."
Curtis, of course, caught it easily. "So, before I start on drunken weirded out ramblings, how you been mate?" He asked as he set about making them the first drinks. Experience working the bar back home meant he could easily judge the right point between 'enough to start us getting hammered' and 'fuck that's too strong how can I drink that?'.
"Eh, you know me, I'm always all right. Had a good weekend, though" --cuz any weekend where I get Remy LeBeau half naked is gonna be a good one-- "and in spite of the fucking weirdness flying around here right now, I'm staying alive."
Pietro threw himself down at the head of his bed (under Clint) and pulled his feet up, his back to the wall.
Handing one of the glasses over, Curtis nodded. "Know what you mean. I went to talk to Nathan earlier."
"What the fuck is up with that guy, seriously?" Pietro asked, his mouth curling up in a disdainful sneer. "I mean, does he seriously think he's funny, with that shit?"
"Posting those photos. Fuck, sometimes he reminds me so much of Rudy it makes my skin crawl. I lost it, I was so pissed and had to go talk to him but, he's not being his usual self. Something weird's going on, he was acting like he actually fucking meant it." Curtis took a big gulp of the orange vodka blend. "It was like something out of the Twilight Zone, man."
Pietro winced into his own vodka-orange candy tasting concoction at the mention of Rudy--oh, he was well aware that for Curtis to be drinking with him was a massive deal, thanks to that motherfucker, yes. But the rest just got a sort of surprised look. "Wait. That is seriously his idea of a genuine declaration of love? Fuck. That. Dude.
"Has he always had a hard on for the guy or something?"
"I don't know. I never thought he did but he was talking love and quoting Brokeback fucking Mountain and I even had to talk him out of getting the tackiest tattoo on earth. But, yeah, he might be serious. Nathan. Serious. Fucking hell." He laughed again, that strained sort of laughed before taking another big gulp of vodka.
Pietro was doing exactly the same--and goddamn, between that and the sugar in the soda, his cheeks went pink right quick. "Brokeback Mountain, wow, he's even more unoriginal than I thought." A small giggle, but quickly stifled, because, "I don't know that Simon kid--he seems kind of clueless, but generally just sorta... shy. Is he into it--I mean, how could he be after that, but...?"
"No way, spoke to him too. Says he's straight but he's taken in by it, feels sorry for Nathan." Eyes were rolled at that. "Plus apparently he got Nathan killed a while back so he has guilt trip there. Nathan got better though, clearly. Mutations."
"Wow, that's a shitty one to find out about." Didn't excuse Nathan being a dick, but hey, Pietro was a dick too, so whatever, right? "I mean, admittedly, I don't get this Nathan guy's sense of humor anyhow. The fruit fucker thing wasn't even close to funny. But I don't get what his end game could be here, if it's a joke. I mean, this would be the most elaborate unfunny hoax for no reason in the history of teen drama."
"Me either. Never gotten him and I don't get this. I mean, he seemed so sincere but how can he be? This is Nathan. Oh, and he tried to warn me off Simon. And asked me how to win Simon over. It was just like I'd fallen into fucking Wonderland and everything was backwards. Total headfuck." He was already pouring himself more. He was aware that he should probably slow down, that his tolerance had probably lowered in the time spent not drinking but for the moment it felt good.
Pietro was finishing his off a little more slowly, but only because he was getting extra-slammed with every sip because sugarrrrrrrrrromgomg. "So instead of telling him to fuck off, this Simon kid is going to let him be all creepy sexual harassment boy? Was he always like that, or...?
Or was it something that happened to him at the Facility? Pietro couldn't help but wonder. Ugh, now he felt sick.
"Simon never stands up for himself. That's why me and the girls always did. Nathan spends half the time pretending he doesn't even remember Simon's name. Calls him fucking Barry for God only knows what reason." Curtis shook his head, he was sipping this glass more slowly. "He thinks he owes Nathan for the fact that Nathan died because of him. Which is sweet and all, 'cept this is Nathan and this is gotta be some kind of elaborate mind-fuck. It has to."
"Wow, you're really painting a picture for me, there." But honestly, Pietro was relieved that this wasn't some kind of Facility Spine Removal issue, because he didn't think he could stomach that. "I don't care if the dude tried to die for him--which admittedly is romantic in a dumb way--it's still not fucking worth it.
"Oh well. Some people don't feel loved unless they're getting walked all over." Pietro almost said something about how he could get that, sexually speaking, but luckily his brain wasn't that far gone to sugar and vodka. Because. Curtis.
"And there's not much I can do if Simon won't let me help him, hell if I hadn't ignored him and gone see Nathan today he'd currently have a heart tattoo with Simon's name on his shoulder." His tone and expression made it obvious what he thought about that. Not that he didn't like tattoos, hell he had his own. But that tattoo had sounded tacky and getting someone's name was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.
Pietro's face screwed up in a mask of disgust. "Ohmigod. You were not kidding about that 'tackiest tattoo ever' thing. Gross." A slight pause. "And see, how could someone not he joking about that? I mean, I am like the poster boy for trashy and even I think that's just sad."
"Exactly. So, yeah, after that conversation I practically ran to work." Everything was starting to feel warm and fuzzy and more relaxed. He'd forgotten how good drinking could feel.
"Don't blame you," Pietro admitted, finishing off his drink. Mmm, fuzzy head. Niiiiice. "Every time I think this place cannot get weirder, it hands us a big 'fuck you', that's for sure. I mean, some of the weird, I like--I like that we all have powers, I like that no one gives a shit if I have My Little Pony glasses--well, except that Anders kid, but fuck him."
Which reminded Pietro: "Oh speaking of stay away from him, if you didn't know."
"Which one is Anders?" Curtis asked as he pulled his ipod out of his bag. He had new tunes to share, how could he have forgotten.
"The little homophobe--reminds me of Murray from Flight of the Conchords, super tiny and dorky and Kiwi. He took issue with one of my MLP shirts one day, so I trolled the fuck out of him." Pietro looked upon the iPod with a buzzed smile, nodding in approval--some things needed no words. "But apparently his 'gift of gab' thing means he can talk people into doing shit they wouldn't usually. Alison told me he convinced Jeanne-Marie to tell him a bunch of shit about people, and fuck knows what else. I told that little fucker I'd break his legs if I saw him so much as looking at one of my sisters. Was gonna punch him just for good measure, but looked like someone else got there first."
Curtis visibly stiffened at the explanation of Anders power but forced himself to carry on normally "Thanks for the heads up." He nodded as casually as he could before putting the ipod into the dock and setting it up "We've been playing this all night at work, came out yesterday. Never listened to their stuff much but I like it. Work was weird too but in a different way."
Pietro of course noticed the stiffening, but didn't show that he had. He'd expected it--and of course judged it better to say something than not.
He recognized the band easily--he'd heard plenty 30 Seconds to Mars (hello, hotness) and had judged them non-suck ages ago. This was so far even more non-suck than usual, however, so that was cool. Curtis never steered him wrong, anyhow. "Well, the music isn't weird, so it must've been something else."
"We were quiet but there were loads of us in to do delivery and stock take so it just ended up us all hanging out and talking shit. Found out loads of stuff. Oh, by the way Jack made it abundantly clear that where you're concerned he's DTF anytime. In case you run out of options here." He chuckled a little, shaking his head as he settled back down on the bed. He figured Pietro's ego would like that even if he wasn't actually interested in the guy.
Pietro gave a little squee which dissolved into laughter quickly. He scooted forward to make himself another drink, head bobbing with the music now. Then, thoughtfully, "You know, that could be an interesting challenge. I've never been with someone where I couldn't use my powers. Hmm..."
Whoops, that was a lot of vodka.
Oh well!
For a moment Curtis frowned, brain a little slowed with vodka. "How would your powers OH!" When it hit, it hit like a thunderbolt. He cracked up laughing before nodding "I can see how that can come in handy."
The sex talk really didn't bother him at all, in fact it didn't normally bother him at all anyway. As Melissa a few things hit close to home but sex and the assaults were two separate things. The lack of interest in perusing sex since, well, he was working on that.
"Actually mine was pretty useful too in that department. Way easier to understand the female body once you've got one. And multiple orgasms? Christ, they've got a good thing going for them there!"
"Yeah, Eames is a fan, too," Pietro chuckled into his drink. "Not that anyone with the equipment for it isn't, but you guys have a special appreciation.
"Though--I mean, technically I can kinda do that too. Sorta. It's not the same, but, you know. Fast doesn't have to mean bad." He held up his full glass in salute to that concept, and managed not to spill it all over himself, somehow. "But yeah. That... wouldn't work out with a flatscan--baseline--normal, whatever. Someone not us. So I'll just stick to teasing Jack and bask in the knowledge that he wants it--and is missing out."
Not as if Pietro would want a regular thing with one of them anyhow, so it wasn't that huge a loss. Still, good to know. Heh.
Curtis returned the salute because, hey why the hell not? "Yeah, getting too mixed up with humans right now isn't a great idea. I mean, they're a great group and I'll hang but no nothing more. Jack's announcement led to some interesting revelations. Turns out they've all been trying to figure out which way I go. Coz the whole I flirt but don't make a move thing. Nita was fucking hilarious." And, in fact, at the sheer memory of her comment he cracked up. Real, proper laughter not the strained kind he'd had when sober.
Which made Pietro laugh, if only just because--wow. He had never seen that, before. Like once. Curtis needed to drink with him, like, all the time. Seriously. "Ohmigod trying to imagine what her suspicions were and just how she managed to communicate them..." Another drink--he might need it, for this.
He managed to control his laughter enough to speak for a moment, though a few tears of mirth were rolling down his cheeks already. "Oh Jesus. Ok, right. She said 'How the hell do you put up with your boyfriend being such a slut?'" And he descended into laughter again, the way she'd said it had killed him completely. And the fact that it had launched an argument mostly spilt down the gender divide as to whether or not Curtis was gay or dating Pietro had been the weirdest, funniest end to a weird day.
Pietro nearly spit Orange Crush and vodka all over the place. He literally had to smack his hand over his mouth to keep it from spraying at superspeed, and it burned in the back of his nose like a motherfucker. Finally, he managed to swallow and collapsed in giggles against the wall, holding his sides. "Ohmigod. Oh. my. god. Best. Thing. Dying."
"That's why you struck out with her." Curtis continued, still snickering. "She thought you were an asshole to do it in front of me. I set them straight though, so to speak. Mostly." He drained the rest of his glass for fear that if he laughed anymore he'd end up spilling it.
The track changed and Curtis lit up again "Ah mate, been meaning to send you this. Know the Calvin Harris you liked 'From the bottle'? This is the guy who did the vocals." He started moving to the music again as Tinie Tempah filled the room.
"Ah, he has a fucking cool voice," Pietro stood to turn it up but overcompensated and ended up having to catch himself on the back of his chair. "Fuck. Superspeed drunk. Woo." He laughed again and just leaned over the chair, stretching out to turn it up a little.
Then he threw himself back onto the bed before he could do any more damage. "Oh my god, that is like the best thing I've ever heard. I wondered why she was so hot and cold with me! Like she'd be super cool talking about music, but then all looking at me funny the next minute." He picked up his drink again and sipped. Just a little. Because woo.
Between laughing at Pietro's antics, Curtis nodded "And I wondered why she kept looking at me like I was an abused puppy." He wobbled dangerously, nearly slipping off of the bed. "Fuck, I've never been this easy a drunk."
Pietro reached toward the fridge as if trying to use the Force. "Where's one of those TK fuckers when we need them? I will be back on my way to sober in five minutes, because that's how I roll. You, on the other hand, have clearly not had a drink like forever, and require water."
He sighed when the Force failed him and stood again. "Stay put. Slutty not-boyfriend to the rescue." He trotted over to the fridge and dug around in it. "So she believes you now that this is not a thing--I'm assuming. I am guessing Jack never considered it, in light of the DTF-ness."
"Or he's more slutty than you." Curtis added, face suddenly thoughtful. "Or I missed some sort of invite in that conversation that was including me." And that set off the laughter again.
Pietro had been crouching by the fridge, but his butt hit the floor right then--he was laughing too hard to stay up. "Oh my god, it's hurting my face, I'm laughing too hard. Make it stop." But he did manage to pull out a pair of water bottles and walk--on his knees--back to the bed. He handed one up to Curtis before climbing back up and returning to his resting position. "He does seem kinda slutty, though. And I do seem to have a penchant for slutty boys. Is that vain, or just good sense?"
By the time Pietro was sitting again, Curtis nearly had the laughter under control but he was grinning widely. "Both, I reckon. Neither's a bad thing though, so long as it ain't harming anyone." Not that Pietro seemed to need encouragement anyway.
"So, was Nita right then? You a slut?" They didn't really talk dating much, Curtis realised now that maybe Pietro had deliberately not mentioned that stuff.
Pietro sighed dramatically, putting aside the water in favor of his radioactive orange cocktail again. "I mean, this is a thing I've been thinking about: how many people do you have to make out with--or do you have to somehow get them off?--to be considered a slut? It's not really quantifiable.
"It's more of a lifestyle. A very easily persuadable lifestyle." He paused, face falling for sheer comedic effect. "Okay, yeah, I think I'm a slut. Or like two hand jobs and a face-sitting away, anyhow."
Curtis was on water for the moment, not that he'd turned his back on the vodka he just figured that pacing himself might be a good idea. "And why not? If you're that in demand then just enjoy it, Blood." Curtis snickered more at the language he was using than anyone else. He had to be fucked up to be talking like his gangbanger cousins.
"I think you just went all Britishy on me or something, but okay. If you insist. I will enjoy it. Until it bites me in the ass, which it inevitably will somehow, but whatever." Pietro took another drink, almost like a toast.
Really, there were all sorts of benefits to being slutty that he had not considered before this year. He hadn't expected to wear it like protective armor, but more and more he did. Nothing was going to save him from falling in love with her. That much was fucking clear. But at least this way, there was at least an illusion of distance on his end, right?
Until he started feeling too guilty. Which he already did a little sometimes.
Okay, no, no thinking about serious things. Only fun things. "In the meantime, I will taunt your coworkers with my unavailability to them. Hell, maybe Nita will change her mind, if you convinced her we're not a thing..."
"I made sure they knew we weren't, wasn't so bothered about the sexuality questioning bout me though coz fuck knows what to class me as." A snort of laughter, another wobble and he landed on his ass. And Melissa was the one that sat up, still laughing.
"That was so perfect, I'mma pretend you did it on purpose." Pietro cackled and applauded. "Let's class you as perrrrrrrfect."
As unsteady as she was, Melissa pulled herself up to standing and took a bow. And then a curtsey coz fuck it.
As Curtis walked up the front steps of the school he pulled out his phone and searched through contacts before hitting the green button. It was answered quickly, not that it surprised the English boy at all.
"Yeah, alright mate? Look I've had the weirdest fucking day in existence. I seriously need a drink, wanna join me?"
Pietro, who was currently wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs and sat with his feet up on his desk, enjoying a netflix stream of Archer while simultaneously reading through crap for class, naturally replied with, "Hell yes. I tanked my stock on St. Patrick's day--we need to get hooked up, or what?"
"I already bargained with Bonita, think I might just have sold my soul to the devil there." Curtis chuckled though it was a tired, almost strained sound. "Your room clear or you could meet me at mine? I just, I need to be out of my mind right now." And if he accidentally changed to Mel, he at least knew he could trust Pietro.
"Vic's not around--and he won't care if we're drinking in here." Not like Victor had never been drunk in this room, anyhow, right? "C'mon up. I'll totally have pants on by then, even."
"Cool." And he hung up.
It didn't take long to climb the stairs and make his way through the boys wing, of course by then Pietro probably could've run a marathon or whatever. He knocked on the door lightly.
More appropriately attired in beat up jeans and a tight Star Wars t-shirt, Pietro yanked the door open and gestured for Curtis to enter. The Archer credits-song was playing in the background, but he figured he'd wait for Curtis to take care of that detail. "So, I'm guessing bargaining your soul away to Nita was after the weird shit--but I gotta say, if I was gonna let someone own part of me, she'd probably be on the list of possibilities. Well done." Well, for a night, anyhow.
Curtis shut the door behind himself and took his backpack off of his shoulder. It clinked from it's contents as he did so.
"I'm with you on that one." He nodded, though funnily enough he hadn't much thought about it. He harmlessly flirts a bit with basically all the the girls at work but that was it, it was harmless. Since the incident that was not going to be thought about, he kind of hadn't been as interested in that side of things. Then again, he hadn't been drinking either and that was changing right now.
"I don't even know where to begin, man." Curtis admitted as he sat heavily on the end of a bed.
"This just gets more and more ominous." But at least dude didn't look like he was going to cry or anything, so it probably wasn't anything to do with--well, that. (Not that Curtis would cry anyhow. But you know. In spirit.) Pietro zipped to his closet and produced from its perfectly ordered interior a pair of glasses--one featuring Rainbow Dash and the other featuring Pinkie Pie. MLP forever, yo. "Tell Auntie Pietro your story, and then we will erase it with--whatever you brought."
"Well, Auntie, these do for you?" And Curtis pulled out the two bottles he'd sold his soul for. He'd been assured by Nita this wasn't the cheap and nasty shit. Beyond that he didn't much care. Studying the labels in the light he could see that they were an odd combination but it had been what was in her car boot (well she'd called it a trunk. Weird.) left over from a house party. One bottle of sambucca, one bottle of vodka. "Want to pick our poison?"
"Oh dear god, you brought hangover in a bottle." Pietro laughed. He set down the glasses on the end table nearest to Curtis, who had chosen the spot just beneath Hope Solo on his bed, and zipped to the fridge to produce a can of Orange Crush. "Perfect with Vodka." He tossed it to Curtis. "We can start there."
Curtis, of course, caught it easily. "So, before I start on drunken weirded out ramblings, how you been mate?" He asked as he set about making them the first drinks. Experience working the bar back home meant he could easily judge the right point between 'enough to start us getting hammered' and 'fuck that's too strong how can I drink that?'.
"Eh, you know me, I'm always all right. Had a good weekend, though" --cuz any weekend where I get Remy LeBeau half naked is gonna be a good one-- "and in spite of the fucking weirdness flying around here right now, I'm staying alive."
Pietro threw himself down at the head of his bed (under Clint) and pulled his feet up, his back to the wall.
Handing one of the glasses over, Curtis nodded. "Know what you mean. I went to talk to Nathan earlier."
"What the fuck is up with that guy, seriously?" Pietro asked, his mouth curling up in a disdainful sneer. "I mean, does he seriously think he's funny, with that shit?"
"Posting those photos. Fuck, sometimes he reminds me so much of Rudy it makes my skin crawl. I lost it, I was so pissed and had to go talk to him but, he's not being his usual self. Something weird's going on, he was acting like he actually fucking meant it." Curtis took a big gulp of the orange vodka blend. "It was like something out of the Twilight Zone, man."
Pietro winced into his own vodka-orange candy tasting concoction at the mention of Rudy--oh, he was well aware that for Curtis to be drinking with him was a massive deal, thanks to that motherfucker, yes. But the rest just got a sort of surprised look. "Wait. That is seriously his idea of a genuine declaration of love? Fuck. That. Dude.
"Has he always had a hard on for the guy or something?"
"I don't know. I never thought he did but he was talking love and quoting Brokeback fucking Mountain and I even had to talk him out of getting the tackiest tattoo on earth. But, yeah, he might be serious. Nathan. Serious. Fucking hell." He laughed again, that strained sort of laughed before taking another big gulp of vodka.
Pietro was doing exactly the same--and goddamn, between that and the sugar in the soda, his cheeks went pink right quick. "Brokeback Mountain, wow, he's even more unoriginal than I thought." A small giggle, but quickly stifled, because, "I don't know that Simon kid--he seems kind of clueless, but generally just sorta... shy. Is he into it--I mean, how could he be after that, but...?"
"No way, spoke to him too. Says he's straight but he's taken in by it, feels sorry for Nathan." Eyes were rolled at that. "Plus apparently he got Nathan killed a while back so he has guilt trip there. Nathan got better though, clearly. Mutations."
"Wow, that's a shitty one to find out about." Didn't excuse Nathan being a dick, but hey, Pietro was a dick too, so whatever, right? "I mean, admittedly, I don't get this Nathan guy's sense of humor anyhow. The fruit fucker thing wasn't even close to funny. But I don't get what his end game could be here, if it's a joke. I mean, this would be the most elaborate unfunny hoax for no reason in the history of teen drama."
"Me either. Never gotten him and I don't get this. I mean, he seemed so sincere but how can he be? This is Nathan. Oh, and he tried to warn me off Simon. And asked me how to win Simon over. It was just like I'd fallen into fucking Wonderland and everything was backwards. Total headfuck." He was already pouring himself more. He was aware that he should probably slow down, that his tolerance had probably lowered in the time spent not drinking but for the moment it felt good.
Pietro was finishing his off a little more slowly, but only because he was getting extra-slammed with every sip because sugarrrrrrrrrromgomg. "So instead of telling him to fuck off, this Simon kid is going to let him be all creepy sexual harassment boy? Was he always like that, or...?
Or was it something that happened to him at the Facility? Pietro couldn't help but wonder. Ugh, now he felt sick.
"Simon never stands up for himself. That's why me and the girls always did. Nathan spends half the time pretending he doesn't even remember Simon's name. Calls him fucking Barry for God only knows what reason." Curtis shook his head, he was sipping this glass more slowly. "He thinks he owes Nathan for the fact that Nathan died because of him. Which is sweet and all, 'cept this is Nathan and this is gotta be some kind of elaborate mind-fuck. It has to."
"Wow, you're really painting a picture for me, there." But honestly, Pietro was relieved that this wasn't some kind of Facility Spine Removal issue, because he didn't think he could stomach that. "I don't care if the dude tried to die for him--which admittedly is romantic in a dumb way--it's still not fucking worth it.
"Oh well. Some people don't feel loved unless they're getting walked all over." Pietro almost said something about how he could get that, sexually speaking, but luckily his brain wasn't that far gone to sugar and vodka. Because. Curtis.
"And there's not much I can do if Simon won't let me help him, hell if I hadn't ignored him and gone see Nathan today he'd currently have a heart tattoo with Simon's name on his shoulder." His tone and expression made it obvious what he thought about that. Not that he didn't like tattoos, hell he had his own. But that tattoo had sounded tacky and getting someone's name was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.
Pietro's face screwed up in a mask of disgust. "Ohmigod. You were not kidding about that 'tackiest tattoo ever' thing. Gross." A slight pause. "And see, how could someone not he joking about that? I mean, I am like the poster boy for trashy and even I think that's just sad."
"Exactly. So, yeah, after that conversation I practically ran to work." Everything was starting to feel warm and fuzzy and more relaxed. He'd forgotten how good drinking could feel.
"Don't blame you," Pietro admitted, finishing off his drink. Mmm, fuzzy head. Niiiiice. "Every time I think this place cannot get weirder, it hands us a big 'fuck you', that's for sure. I mean, some of the weird, I like--I like that we all have powers, I like that no one gives a shit if I have My Little Pony glasses--well, except that Anders kid, but fuck him."
Which reminded Pietro: "Oh speaking of stay away from him, if you didn't know."
"Which one is Anders?" Curtis asked as he pulled his ipod out of his bag. He had new tunes to share, how could he have forgotten.
"The little homophobe--reminds me of Murray from Flight of the Conchords, super tiny and dorky and Kiwi. He took issue with one of my MLP shirts one day, so I trolled the fuck out of him." Pietro looked upon the iPod with a buzzed smile, nodding in approval--some things needed no words. "But apparently his 'gift of gab' thing means he can talk people into doing shit they wouldn't usually. Alison told me he convinced Jeanne-Marie to tell him a bunch of shit about people, and fuck knows what else. I told that little fucker I'd break his legs if I saw him so much as looking at one of my sisters. Was gonna punch him just for good measure, but looked like someone else got there first."
Curtis visibly stiffened at the explanation of Anders power but forced himself to carry on normally "Thanks for the heads up." He nodded as casually as he could before putting the ipod into the dock and setting it up "We've been playing this all night at work, came out yesterday. Never listened to their stuff much but I like it. Work was weird too but in a different way."
Pietro of course noticed the stiffening, but didn't show that he had. He'd expected it--and of course judged it better to say something than not.
He recognized the band easily--he'd heard plenty 30 Seconds to Mars (hello, hotness) and had judged them non-suck ages ago. This was so far even more non-suck than usual, however, so that was cool. Curtis never steered him wrong, anyhow. "Well, the music isn't weird, so it must've been something else."
"We were quiet but there were loads of us in to do delivery and stock take so it just ended up us all hanging out and talking shit. Found out loads of stuff. Oh, by the way Jack made it abundantly clear that where you're concerned he's DTF anytime. In case you run out of options here." He chuckled a little, shaking his head as he settled back down on the bed. He figured Pietro's ego would like that even if he wasn't actually interested in the guy.
Pietro gave a little squee which dissolved into laughter quickly. He scooted forward to make himself another drink, head bobbing with the music now. Then, thoughtfully, "You know, that could be an interesting challenge. I've never been with someone where I couldn't use my powers. Hmm..."
Whoops, that was a lot of vodka.
Oh well!
For a moment Curtis frowned, brain a little slowed with vodka. "How would your powers OH!" When it hit, it hit like a thunderbolt. He cracked up laughing before nodding "I can see how that can come in handy."
The sex talk really didn't bother him at all, in fact it didn't normally bother him at all anyway. As Melissa a few things hit close to home but sex and the assaults were two separate things. The lack of interest in perusing sex since, well, he was working on that.
"Actually mine was pretty useful too in that department. Way easier to understand the female body once you've got one. And multiple orgasms? Christ, they've got a good thing going for them there!"
"Yeah, Eames is a fan, too," Pietro chuckled into his drink. "Not that anyone with the equipment for it isn't, but you guys have a special appreciation.
"Though--I mean, technically I can kinda do that too. Sorta. It's not the same, but, you know. Fast doesn't have to mean bad." He held up his full glass in salute to that concept, and managed not to spill it all over himself, somehow. "But yeah. That... wouldn't work out with a flatscan--baseline--normal, whatever. Someone not us. So I'll just stick to teasing Jack and bask in the knowledge that he wants it--and is missing out."
Not as if Pietro would want a regular thing with one of them anyhow, so it wasn't that huge a loss. Still, good to know. Heh.
Curtis returned the salute because, hey why the hell not? "Yeah, getting too mixed up with humans right now isn't a great idea. I mean, they're a great group and I'll hang but no nothing more. Jack's announcement led to some interesting revelations. Turns out they've all been trying to figure out which way I go. Coz the whole I flirt but don't make a move thing. Nita was fucking hilarious." And, in fact, at the sheer memory of her comment he cracked up. Real, proper laughter not the strained kind he'd had when sober.
Which made Pietro laugh, if only just because--wow. He had never seen that, before. Like once. Curtis needed to drink with him, like, all the time. Seriously. "Ohmigod trying to imagine what her suspicions were and just how she managed to communicate them..." Another drink--he might need it, for this.
He managed to control his laughter enough to speak for a moment, though a few tears of mirth were rolling down his cheeks already. "Oh Jesus. Ok, right. She said 'How the hell do you put up with your boyfriend being such a slut?'" And he descended into laughter again, the way she'd said it had killed him completely. And the fact that it had launched an argument mostly spilt down the gender divide as to whether or not Curtis was gay or dating Pietro had been the weirdest, funniest end to a weird day.
Pietro nearly spit Orange Crush and vodka all over the place. He literally had to smack his hand over his mouth to keep it from spraying at superspeed, and it burned in the back of his nose like a motherfucker. Finally, he managed to swallow and collapsed in giggles against the wall, holding his sides. "Ohmigod. Oh. my. god. Best. Thing. Dying."
"That's why you struck out with her." Curtis continued, still snickering. "She thought you were an asshole to do it in front of me. I set them straight though, so to speak. Mostly." He drained the rest of his glass for fear that if he laughed anymore he'd end up spilling it.
The track changed and Curtis lit up again "Ah mate, been meaning to send you this. Know the Calvin Harris you liked 'From the bottle'? This is the guy who did the vocals." He started moving to the music again as Tinie Tempah filled the room.
"Ah, he has a fucking cool voice," Pietro stood to turn it up but overcompensated and ended up having to catch himself on the back of his chair. "Fuck. Superspeed drunk. Woo." He laughed again and just leaned over the chair, stretching out to turn it up a little.
Then he threw himself back onto the bed before he could do any more damage. "Oh my god, that is like the best thing I've ever heard. I wondered why she was so hot and cold with me! Like she'd be super cool talking about music, but then all looking at me funny the next minute." He picked up his drink again and sipped. Just a little. Because woo.
Between laughing at Pietro's antics, Curtis nodded "And I wondered why she kept looking at me like I was an abused puppy." He wobbled dangerously, nearly slipping off of the bed. "Fuck, I've never been this easy a drunk."
Pietro reached toward the fridge as if trying to use the Force. "Where's one of those TK fuckers when we need them? I will be back on my way to sober in five minutes, because that's how I roll. You, on the other hand, have clearly not had a drink like forever, and require water."
He sighed when the Force failed him and stood again. "Stay put. Slutty not-boyfriend to the rescue." He trotted over to the fridge and dug around in it. "So she believes you now that this is not a thing--I'm assuming. I am guessing Jack never considered it, in light of the DTF-ness."
"Or he's more slutty than you." Curtis added, face suddenly thoughtful. "Or I missed some sort of invite in that conversation that was including me." And that set off the laughter again.
Pietro had been crouching by the fridge, but his butt hit the floor right then--he was laughing too hard to stay up. "Oh my god, it's hurting my face, I'm laughing too hard. Make it stop." But he did manage to pull out a pair of water bottles and walk--on his knees--back to the bed. He handed one up to Curtis before climbing back up and returning to his resting position. "He does seem kinda slutty, though. And I do seem to have a penchant for slutty boys. Is that vain, or just good sense?"
By the time Pietro was sitting again, Curtis nearly had the laughter under control but he was grinning widely. "Both, I reckon. Neither's a bad thing though, so long as it ain't harming anyone." Not that Pietro seemed to need encouragement anyway.
"So, was Nita right then? You a slut?" They didn't really talk dating much, Curtis realised now that maybe Pietro had deliberately not mentioned that stuff.
Pietro sighed dramatically, putting aside the water in favor of his radioactive orange cocktail again. "I mean, this is a thing I've been thinking about: how many people do you have to make out with--or do you have to somehow get them off?--to be considered a slut? It's not really quantifiable.
"It's more of a lifestyle. A very easily persuadable lifestyle." He paused, face falling for sheer comedic effect. "Okay, yeah, I think I'm a slut. Or like two hand jobs and a face-sitting away, anyhow."
Curtis was on water for the moment, not that he'd turned his back on the vodka he just figured that pacing himself might be a good idea. "And why not? If you're that in demand then just enjoy it, Blood." Curtis snickered more at the language he was using than anyone else. He had to be fucked up to be talking like his gangbanger cousins.
"I think you just went all Britishy on me or something, but okay. If you insist. I will enjoy it. Until it bites me in the ass, which it inevitably will somehow, but whatever." Pietro took another drink, almost like a toast.
Really, there were all sorts of benefits to being slutty that he had not considered before this year. He hadn't expected to wear it like protective armor, but more and more he did. Nothing was going to save him from falling in love with her. That much was fucking clear. But at least this way, there was at least an illusion of distance on his end, right?
Until he started feeling too guilty. Which he already did a little sometimes.
Okay, no, no thinking about serious things. Only fun things. "In the meantime, I will taunt your coworkers with my unavailability to them. Hell, maybe Nita will change her mind, if you convinced her we're not a thing..."
"I made sure they knew we weren't, wasn't so bothered about the sexuality questioning bout me though coz fuck knows what to class me as." A snort of laughter, another wobble and he landed on his ass. And Melissa was the one that sat up, still laughing.
"That was so perfect, I'mma pretend you did it on purpose." Pietro cackled and applauded. "Let's class you as perrrrrrrfect."
As unsteady as she was, Melissa pulled herself up to standing and took a bow. And then a curtsey coz fuck it.
