the_merriest | Sunday Night, Hallway, Fifth Floor

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Sunday Night, Hallway, Fifth Floor

So Rikku ... had had a pretty sweet weekend. Hanging out with mercs, and all sorts of interesting workshops, about fun things like C4 and weapons and being in the business as a good guy and dude. They were pretty cool people.

Then she'd met Reno's friend Rude and gotten a chopper ride and ... okay. She'd been kinda freaking out about the chopper ride? But then Dawn had been awesome, 'cause Dawn, and logic was totally better than being weird.

So she should probably go find Reno, and apologize for ditching his coat on the ground like that? Right. Okay. Suck it up, Rikku.

She knocked on the door to 501, fidgeting.

(for the reno. will be a linkdrop.)

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Reno made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a snerk. Snerk, of course, was totally a sound.

"You kidding? Tamaki's a pruuuuuude."

Hey. Another stair. This was progress. They had a long way to go, but this was progress.

"Yeah," she said dryly. "And so are you, zoto. Noticed it when you stopped in at work to --"

Couldn't even say that one out loud, okay?

"To invite you to show me the other rooms of the place?"

Hey, tact. Tact was kinda fun to explore. He might use it more someday. Possibly after suffering severe brain damage and losing his testicles. So. Probably never again, and she should relish this reprieve from the norm.

"Don't need no host club for any of that."

That totally didn't sound quite how it had in his head.

Edited 2008-02-04 07:14 (UTC)

Rikku looked up at him, trying to figure something out, and finally just ...

"Were you serious?" she asked. "About that. I kinda ... you know. Didn't think ..."

She would've said no either way, because ... hi, but she was curious.

"Never really serious, like, it's gotta happen right then and there or anything. World doesn't end on a 'no,' yo. But if you said yes, it would'a been... score." Bad mouth. No cookie. "Usually. I dunno what that was with the... stuff. You know. Chopper was kinda somethin' else. You like flying. Or choppers. And the rest of it wasn't about it being another 'score.'"

He shrugged. He had to shut up now. He was starting to babble like Elena.

Rikku considered. And then realized she'd stopped them in place, without meaning to. Here. Stairs again. Stairs were good. See, they were almost done with stairs.

"Cold air. Helps with sobering you up," she said, nodding. "I, uh. So we ... I mean. You know."

Done with stairs, so she could let go. And step back, and fuss with her hair.

She was somehow real cute, doing that with his jacket hanging off of her, being all fidgety and she had real nice hair.

"Dunno," he decided. It was a nice, noncommittal sort of answer that didn't require total sobriety to keep from messing up. "Didn't see it coming, and then we were all... yellin' at each other an' shit. And I drink too much, maybe. Do you think so? I'm not sure."

"You drink way too much," she laughed. "And I think we were yelling cause ... it was weird? And. You know. Was that just some ... fluke ... thing? Are ... is there, uh ..."

Trapdoors. Some day, she would actually install trapdoors all over Fandom. And remember to head for them when she was being this stupid.

Embarrassment was better when shared with a drunk guy, perhaps? At least he was more busy trying to mentally fill in the blanks than he was making note of the fact that this was awkward conversation. If she'd just not finish the rest of her sentences, their mad-lib conversation had the potential to be far less mortifying.

Or moreso, depending on which verbs and adjectives he chose.

"Was kinda weird. Sorta. Didn't know what to think once thinkin' actually happened again. Uh." What was the question again? "You wear that jacket well, yo. You should be a Turk. But no, because that'd be..."

Uh.

"You have pretty eyes."

Shut up, Reno.

"I do?" she said, blushing up at him, and why was she stepping closer in again? That was definitely not going to make things even worse on the whole, 'what exactly are we doing, anyway?' front.

Maybe that annoying voice in the back of her head could shut up for a minute, here.

"Yep." Oh, wow, hey. She was kinda closer than she was before. This prompted him to run his fingers through his hair and smile a dorky sort of lopsided smile and lean forward. Because that wouldn't make this any more complicated than things already seemed to be. No, really. "You do, zoto."

Stop leaning. Stop leaning. St--

Too late.

She would have to pardon him, this time around. His mouth probably tasted like ass. Or booze. Assbooze. Probably more like booze than ass, really. Very much like Everclear. Which may or may not taste like nail polish remover, he didn't know.

Perhaps the taste could be overlooked because he was still a good kisser while he was drunk? He had plenty of practice.

His lips were ... tingly? Like, not the normal kind of kissing-tingly, but a weird sort of burny-tingly. And his tongue had an odd sort of tang to it like ... like ... nail polish remover?

Which made her giggle, which made her break the kiss, which made her cover her mouth and giggle harder. "You are so drunk."

And her giggling made him laugh, and he jammed his hands into his pockets and gave his shoulders a shrug and licked his lips.

They tasted like booze and Rikku. It was a good flavor. Crazy.

"We're never gonna make it past the lobby, are we?"

She grabbed his arm and tugged on it, headed for the doors, dammit. "Cold," she said. "Cold will sober you up. C'mon."

"Whoop!" Reno tripped his way along after her, making an effort not to laugh some more. Cold was good and it would sober him up, which was also good, and Rude had asked to be his best man, which was totally messed up, and he and Rikku had kissed again, and oh, hey, it was cold outside. Not, like, cold like last night had been, it was warmer than that, but it was all... shock-to-the-system-good-morning-Reno cold.

Which made him bury his hands as deep as they could possibly go in his pants pockets and kind of blink a bit while his brain attempted a reboot.

"S'cold out here," he observed.

Edited 2008-02-04 08:54 (UTC)

"Check that out," Rikku snickered. "Who could've seen that one coming?"

"It's what, February and nighttime? Not allowed to be cold," he decided. Not that Midgar was ever a freaking tropical paradise, but if he was cold, then the weather was simply officially not allowed, no matter where he went.

"You need your coat back?" she asked, folding her arms and resisting the urge to shiver. "You sober enough to talk now?"

"Keep the coat," he shrugged. "It's cold. I'm good."

Yeah, there was his brain, coming back to greet him. Well, shit, this was making him sober. Ish.

"Okay," she said, nodding. Which was good. Taking the coat off would lead right back to ...

"Good talk," she decided. "I'm gonna go."

"You, uh... got somewhere to be?"

Somehow, this had been going more smoothly when he was totally hammered.

"Yeah," she said quickly. "Yeah, you know, I ... have this thing? I ... said I'd ... help out. ... With."

Uh.

"I gotta go build some trapdoors."

"In the middle of the night."

Okay. That was believable. Sure. He could buy that. Except that he wasn't drunk enough to buy that anymore, and this fact was totally her fault.

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