ArchivedLogs:Fucking boys, right?
|Fucking boys, right?|
Video games. Joysticks. [Rated R for suggestive content.]
<XS> Rec Room - FL2
School this may be, but life for Xavier's students certainly isn't all studying. Outside classes, this is a popular spot to find students in their downtime. An enormous tribute to slacking off, this room is a wealth of fun and relaxation.
Comfortable armchairs, couches, and beanbags offer plentiful seating scattered throughout the room, and the cushioned windowseats by the high windows offer a cozy nook to curl up and look out on the grounds.
The room is often filled with the noises of gaming -- whether it comes from the big-screen television (tall racks of DVDs beside it, if nothing can be found on the multitude of cable channels), tricked out with consoles from retro to the latest releases, or the less electronic clatter and thump of the pool table, air hockey, or foosball. For those a little more subdued in their gaming, the cabinets hold stacks and stacks of board and card games, ranging as classic as chess and go to as esoteric as Dixit, Catan, and Gloom.
Mario Kart is on the television, but it's not currently being /played/, looping endlessly on the results screen at the end of a race. Shane may have at one point been cajoled into videogaming, but at the moment his controller lies forgotten on the floor beside the couch. From the doorway the couch appears to be unoccupied, no heads rising up above its back, but the quiet wet kissing sounds and occasional sharp breaths tell of /someone/ (someones, really) lying down on its cushions.
Shane could -- prooobably pick a less public spot for this, but his attention span for video games only lasts so long. He at least has all his clothes on! Crisp pinstriped pants, dark vest, button-down shirt, his wide red collar. He's pulled Peter over top of him, lips currently applied to the other boy's neck.
Peter, meanwhile, is /humming/ with heat; most of it seems to be coming off of his cheeks -- his face has become a deep, abiding indigo. The boy is clad appropriately -- a red hoodie, black slacks -- his backpack (unusual, plastic, and red!) slung off to the side of the couch -- his eyes squeezed shut as he bares his throat to Shane and simultaneously squeezes at Shane's own with one free hand. "--mmphdunno if we should--" he says, whispering, even as his fingers dig into Shane's neck. "--/here/--"
Anole doesn't make much of a commotion as he enters the rec room, creeping not along the floor but along the ceiling. He's not invisible, really, but he is odd to try and track, a ceiling-coloured shape moving slow, the pattern of his skin and clothes shifting even as he moves to continually match his background. He is scooting forward to peer curiously at the television, but it's the noises from the hitherto-apparently-unoccupied couch that cause him to freeze, eyes opening wide and a quiet startled squeak coming from him. He presses flat to the ceiling and freezes -- unwittingly sort of creepily as he /stares/ down at the pair on the couch.
The door to the closet opens from the inside, swinging open and revealing a glimpse of a dirty bedroom beyond that most definitely is not the closet. Just for a second, though, as Elli steps through the door and closes it behind her with a light kick of thigh-length boot. Her hair is different than it was yesterday - much different. It has been shavedon the sides into a red, orange, and yellow mohawk that falls partially onto her forehead. Her hair glue is melted on so thick she might just be able to use it as a battering ram, and her hair doesn't really move very much as she turns her head from side to side to scan the room. Shoving hands into the pockets of her leather strappy jacket, her eyes fall onto the two boys on the couch and she lets out a laugh. "Well, well, we learned something about you today, Anole. I didn't know you liked watching."
"You want me to stop?" Shane does stop, at this quiet protest; at least with the kisses though his back still arches up against Peter, his head tipping back to allow Peter's throat-squeezing to deepen. "-- Don't stop," he murmurs, /even/ as his eyes focus upward to track that blur of motion against the ceiling. It just sharpens his smile, his next: "Please, don't stop," coming a little more huskily. Elli's entrance draws a soft and faintly strangled huff of laughter. "Think he'd prefer /doing/."
"No, but--" Peter begins, in response to Shane's query -- but when Shane tips into the throat-squeeze, Peter's grip tightens, just a smidge, a faint edge of a growl building up in his throat. And then--
Eyes as wide as frisbees, Peter /leaps/ into the air -- off of Shane -- hitting the ceiling with a THWUMP. Both hands, knees, and feet gripping it tightly, staring down at Elli. "OhGod," he starts, before -- wait is there something /else/ up here with him? "Oh/God/," Peter repeats, eyes sweeping toward the discolored patch that's on the ceiling with him. "Wewerejustplayingvideogamesuh."
Anole squeaks again, when Shane looks up towards him. "Ohgod." It's almost an echo of Peter; when Peter whumps up onto the ceiling he skitters back a few paces. "Oh/God/." His washed-out whitish eyes have opened huge; they dart between Peter and Shane and Elli as his breathing quickens. "/No/ I don't want to -- do -- well I mean I -- no I just I didn't want to /interrupt/ you guys looked -- /um/." This just cuts off in another squeak. "Sorrysorrysorry."
"Video games? Looked realistic. Was it some kind of new immersive virtual reality experience? Does it support more than two players?" Elli's voice is teasing and deeply amused, smirk spreading across his face. "Doing? Are you offering? Because, I ain't gonna lie. I'd watch that video game, even if I just spectated." Her fingers tap against her jacket once, twice, a little rolling movement that goes up and down her arm. "For a minute, I thought I was gonna have to apologize for walking into the wrong room, but...." she trails off, shaking her head and looking up at the two ceilingboys. "I'm not sure which of them looks more surprised." she muses, mostly to herself.
"Oh, I like it way better with more players." Shane's grin has not faded, one hand tucking behind his head and his eyes focused up towards the ceilng. "Pull up a chair, you're welcome to watch. If I can get my teammates off the ceiling. Your hair," he finally decides, after a quick glance over Elli, "... is awesome but not as awesome as my dad's. Hm. Maybe he should teach a hair class."
"Oh, jeez. Oh, jeez," Peter finishes, mopping his face with his hands -- but then he's grinning beneath his palms. "--um sorry about that I kind of -- I shouldn't have -- it's okay, Anole. Ohyeahuhhi," Peter adds, glancing down to Elli -- managing to come /unglued/ off the ceiling. He lands with a whump on the floor besides Shane, crouched for a moment -- then he hops right back up. His face has gone from indigo to violet; still a little sheepish, but not an embarassed wreck. Not, at least, /anymore/. He offers a hand to her! "I think I've seen you around--? I'm Peter, uhm," he throws a sidelong glance toward Shane. "--that's Shane. And -- Anole. On the ceiling. Uh, sorry if you've already met," he adds.
"I don't know her," Anole immediately insists. Emphatically. When Peter drops down off the ceiling he only presses himself flatter against it, as if he could disappear /even/ more. "I can't do that. With hair." This sounds regretful. "Do you guys, um. Do that a lot? I mean --" His eyes dart towards the couch, "in /here/?"
Elli steps further into the room and shakes her head from side to side. Her hair turns a little bit at the top, but rights itself once her head stills. "Elli. I think we've had a class or two together, at some point." Her grip on Peter's hand is firm, and she grins down at Shane. "Yeah, I recognize you. I think I've even been in a class with you," she says, jerking her head at Anole in greeting. "Hey, Mister Jax's hair is awesome. Hard to beat, but I try." She runs her hand over the surface of it, proudly. "I hope they at least wash down the couch after they get fluids on it."
"She's in Pa's class with us all," Shane identifies, with a shrug. "It's okay, Anole, we were just studying for that class." He hops up to sit on the arm of the couch, and then swing himself around down to the floor. One arm slings around Peter's shoulders. "But we can move to my dorm if this isn't a group project. -- There were no /fluids/ anyway this was clothes-on practice."
Peter has managed to come down all the way to violet, but at Anole's question -- he turns right back to indigo. "N-no!" he responds, to Anole, head snapping up to focus on the boy desperately -- before, a bit more softly: "No, I mean, we don't -- uhm, I was trying to get Shane to play -- he's... he's not into video games," Peter confesses, blushing just a smidge /harder/. "It's okay." He accepts Elli's hand; the mention of hosing down the couch only gets him to squirm with a smidge of embarassment. "We don't -- didn't -- um. Oh, right," Peter agrees, in response to Shane's comment, bristling a bit -- but soon relaxing underneath Shane's arm. "--practice. Yeah, we were -- wait no we weren't -- ohGosh," he finishes, a hand raising to push against his face. Hiding his grin.
"I like video games," Anole says shyly. "And Mister Jax's everything is awesome, Shane has prettymuch --" His skin and clothes are fading back to their normal colour, green skin, green eyes, bluejeans, oversized black RENT t-shirt. "Group? Wait am I invit -- er. I mean/um/." His cheeks are flushing, deeper green. "... I just wanted. Video games. Can we do that? Or. Can. I do that? Sorry I didn't want to interrupt you guys can. Go. Do." He squeezes his eyes shut, backing slowly along the ceiling towards the door.
"I think Shane did invite you to, ah, play video games," Elli says, turning her eyes to the screen. "I'll play Mario with you if you don't want to play with Shane's joystick." she says, brightly. "But if you'd prefer him, I'm happy to watch." The teasing is back, in spades. So much for being helpful, as she steps forward and plops down onto the floor with a rattle of metal laced fabric hitting the floor. "Come on, scardy-lizard." she says, patting the ground next to her, then thumbing at the couch. "Take your pick."
"Not interrupting if you're joining in." Shane keeps his arm hooked around Peter, tug-tug-tugging off towards the door. "But you're welcome to stay and play video games if you want. I wouldn't blame you, she /does/ have fucking awesome hair." Tuuug. For the exit. It's definitely clear where /his/ priorities are.
Peter seems torn; on one hand, Anole is clearly embarassed and in need of comforting! On the other hand, Shane is /tugging/ him, and -- uh, well, Peter /is/ a teenager. "--Anole it's okay you don't--" Peter begins, blushing furiously -- both at Elli's comments and at Shane's insistent tugging. "Um, we can play -- video games -- later?" he decides, half-asking, half-insisting, submitting to Shane's tugs toward the exit. Elli's comment re: Joysticks manages to get his hand back up to his face, followed by a twitching half-grin. "OhGod," he mumbles, but then his other hand is curling around Shane's waist, and... "We'll be -- um, I'll -- talk to you later, Anole. Nice, um, meeting you, Elli." Blushblush.
Anole's brows furrow at the mention of Shane's joystick, and then shoot open wide once comprehension dawns. He lets out a tiny /squeak/ and fades back into the white of the ceiling, /darting/ back out the door and down the hallway ceiling to vanish around the corner.
Watching the rapidly departing crowd, Elli picks up the controller and chuckles to herself. A shrug, a roll of her eyes. "Man. Fucking boys, right?"