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Locked Topic
Guy Talk
Topic Started: August 2, 2015, 5:12 pm (158 Views)
Marc
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Character: Cyclops
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia - San Francisco


In Bobby, Scott could see a sort of anxiety tensing the guy’s shoulders, after a similar tension had bled out of him before already. Made Scott wonder what was weighing on Bobby’s heart that was so heavy as to pour right into his friend’s whole posture. Deciding to let Bobby broach this on his own speed, his own terms, and not ask about it, Scott let Bobby all but march them into the mall, right down the hallways and straight into a side-courtyard that had some food places scattered around its vicinity. Either Bobby was very set on getting that ice-cream and right friggin’ now, or his way of walking was given to one hell of an ADHD-attack currently. Scott simply let himself be swept along, and when they arrived at an ice-cream parlor Bobby seemed to deem suitable for whatever purposes he had in mind, Scott settled at the counter, stretching his long legs before him and crossing them at the ankles.

Scott ordered himself some ice-cream, then motioned towards Bobby. When the other guy stated that he hated ice-cream, Scott laughed in a way that said you can’t be serious, because really, the Ice-Man not liking ice-cream? Unheard of! But he quickly swallowed the chuckle – it was obvious that Bobby was all but bursting with tension, at once drawing out and trying to speed up the time it would take to spill his beans. Scott gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow.

And then, Bobby spoke. About talking to Jean. And her calling him gay randomly (and wasn’t that kinda mean? He hadn’t pegged Jean for the mean girl type. Huh.). About Bobby not being gay. And about Scott .. knowing. What Bobby was saying. Except .. err .. not really, no. He didn’t know. “I .. I’m sorry.” He shoveled some ice-cream into his mouth because he was feeling awkward and stupid and totally oblivious to something he should, apparently, be getting from Bobby’s scattered words alone. He swallowed down his ice-cream and tried again. “I’m sorry, I don’t think .. I don’t think I know what you are saying.”

Raising his finger in a ‘give me a moment’ motion, he tried to get his act together. There were things one said in situations where gayness (even potential gayness) was brought up, weren’t there? Socially acceptable things? “I mean .. gay, not gay .. it shouldn’t matter one way or another. Just like mutant or non-mutant shouldn’t matter, ya know? Can’t we all just be .. people?” Ok, maybe not the socially acceptable thing to say, not with the way people felt about mutants (or gays, while they were at it), but at least it was heartfelt and more real than the politically-correct crap he was supposed to say. Right?


Tags: Iceman
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Roman
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Character: Iceman
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia - San Francisco




He had to admit, he really didn't think of sexuality in a way as simply as Scott laid it out for him just then. 'People'. Huh. Yeah... He liked that. For Bobby, the revelation came through, not in what Jean had said to him the other day, or in admitting something like it out loud for the first time in front of another person, no less... but from an early age. It was an unfortunate time when revelations like that were quickly and easily buried amongst trauma, guilt, and day-to-day survival. Given things that he hadn't had the courage to admit yet, he'd had a skewed scope of what it meant to be different in such an intimate aspect... yet strangely was perhaps overconfident in his mutant disposition.

“Makes sense,” He said simply as he took a drink from the straw, rolling over the mental need to necessitate applying gender to a possible romantic link or target. Words. Gay. Straight. Bisexual. Things like these were also areas he was ignorant in. Though he wasn't opposed to shifting further into that mindset.

It occurred to him in that small span of time as they stood outside of the ice cream shop, swirled inside of the ambient clatter and chatter of the mall, that Scott was far wiser and far braver than he was. Bobby talked an awful lot of shit, but he wasn't as much of a hothead that he would automatically situate himself as the Alpha of anything that he wasn't 100 percent confident in. He saw a mentor in Scott, though maybe nothing quite as formal as such. He still enjoyed clowning around with him and giving him a hard time every now and again when it suited his fancy.

But in equal measure, as understanding and acceptance took hold... fear and abject horror crept in on the malaise of dark, blanketing blanks that stemmed from his memories of being 14 and freshly exhibiting his powers for the first time... in public. His expression deadened slightly as he pulled the straw away from his lips. “...Sometimes, we can't.” He looked back to Scott, involving his 'can't we just be people' statement once more. While it worked as a basis for personal acceptance... it, by no means, would be accepted by everybody. Or even a lot of anybodies.

“I guess that's why we're starting on Utopia. Gain like unanimous acceptance in a population of like a kindergarten class and work from there.” It was a bare-bones synopsis of his interpretation of what Xavier's nation stood for. But it's the one that kept him there and kept him committed. “It's not this impossible thing or whatever, but we probably won't see an openly mutant president or a gay one in our lifetime. We're just settin' the groundwork, right?” And to be fair, not everyone they would save or every town they would protect would be overwhelming supportive of them or of mutants in general. But it was as good a start as any and better than any he could personally come up with.

He crushed the styrofoam cup with an easy squeeze and tossed it into the receptacle by one of the large, marble columns. “I'm bored a'standin'. Let's go spend someone else's money.”



Tags: Cyclops
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Marc
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Character: Cyclops
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia - San Francisco


Scott waited for Bobby to tell him to stop with the idealistic crap he was spouting. He was kind of expecting Bobby to call him out on it, tell him that there was no way his high ideal words were ever going to come true – and to then ridicule him for being so full of high and stupid ideas to begin with. Where did they even come from? Scott often wondered that himself. How had he not become so jaded that these thoughts went right out the window with his distrust of the world? It had happened, he had seen it a lot in the kids that he had kind of taken under his wings. Wronged by the world, they had thought nothing of 'wronging' the world right back. After all, what good had it given them in all their lives so far? Scott .. well .. they had often told him that he didn't quite fit, that there was something off about him, and it hadn't been his mutation. They couldn't have cared less about that. When you were living in the street, bare necessities became your first and only priority. And if someone went and tried to help you gain them more easily? Then you didn't ask if that person was a mutant. You just accepted whatever help they offered.

Without conscious thought, Scott had ducked his head ever so slightly, as if expecting retribution to hit him just about now, verbal as well as physical. Where he came from, having an off-color opinion oftentimes got you pushed around, beat up, physically picked upon. Instead, the next words out of Bobby's mouth were 'makes sense'. That .. was different. But nice, Scott decided as a smile spread across his features. “Glad you think so.” he said, taking small bites from his ice-cream.

Of course the next words after that also made sense, sadly enough. Scott bobbed his head because yes, sometimes, they couldn't. Couldn't just be. Be human, be people, just be. Circumstances, other people .. Sometimes, stuff got in the way. Sometimes, the nastiness of the world got in the way. He wanted it to be true, maybe to become true, but it wasn't. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time. “Sadly no, we can't. But you are right .. Utopia is meant to help with that. With helping others see us as just people and us ourselves to begin doing the same. I mean .. so many of us have been forced to hide who they are, what they are, in order to not get in trouble. And those of us who couldn't hide it .. well, they have been in all kinds of trouble. We also have to learn acceptance of ourselves in a lot of places, I'm thinking. We've grown up hearing, seeing, knowing that what we are is wrong, to be feared or hated. And then, our powers set in and we were left with the knowledge that now we too were amongst those who are wrong, who are to be feared and even hated.” He shrugged one shoulder slightly. “It can't be easy, setting aside what you've grown up with, what you've been taught all your young life – and suddenly embrace being a mutant. In that way, I feel that Utopia is just as much for our own acceptance as it is for everyone else's.”

“But yeah, babysteps and probably not going to happen in our lifetime. Maybe the next generation though .. perhaps .. I don't know. Perhaps there will be less hatred. Less fear. Less .. denying us such simple things as being seen as people.” He smiled. “I think that alone would be well worth it.”

Finishing up his icecream just as Bobby threw out the styrofoam cup, Scott snorted a chuckle. “Spending any money I didn't have to ..” He hesitated only a moment, then continued “.. work for sounds good though I've got to admit, I do feel a little .. strange with such an all-expenses paid kind of trip. I mean .. usually .. well ..” He was fighting for the right words. “Doesn't .. generosity usually come with a price?”


Tags: Iceman
Edited by Marc, August 14, 2015, 9:48 pm.
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Roman
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Character: Iceman
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: San Francisco Mall




Scott
 
Doesn't .. generosity usually come with a price?


Bobby hesitated before an answer. His brows caved in a furrow and he immediately started shaking his head with a steady confidence he hadn't really displayed in such seriousness over a reply before. “No. No, not anymore.” His words were simple and anchored in a tone that made them real. Real for Bobby and hopefully real for Scott, too. He broke his direct gaze with Scott's visor and instead situated directly in front of him at the mall corridor ahead. A metaphor for the future he wanted to see both himself, and all of his new-found friends and teammates in. His pace quickened with as much determination as he had for the following sentiment. “We're done with all that- you got me, Slim?” His words were quiet, but they were severe. “Things are different now. We don't owe nobody a check to cash that's worth more than we can pay.”

The connection was far too real for the life the both of them had lived for years out on the streets. Although Bobby wasn't 100 percent clear on Scott's circumstances, nor vice versa... he was settled enough in the notion that whatever it was they had to do previously as a 'favor for good things to happen to them'... be them nicer clothes, a place to say, a sweet ride, or a sweet chick... that was definitely not what the formula was this time around. Having said that, though, he knew it was going to be a very difficult habit to break. The whole 'trusting the good' thing again.

The wavelength that the two shared in regards to their current situation as mutants in a world where most people would rather see them die, or kill them, themselves... it was refreshing. For as much shit as the two of them had been through after such a comparatively short time on earth, they shared an optimistic outcome with their efforts on Utopia. Maybe it was the fact that one of their own was springing for this shopping excursion that made him a little more liberal about accepting the offer. Well, there was another reason.

“And lookit... while I super appreciate having miles and miles of black, track clothes to choose from on the daily thanks to our benefactors... I never liked The Cure. Or Depressed Mode. And black makes me look sick. Sick as in bad and dying. I need new duds. You need new duds. Yoyo loves spending his rich family money. We're all winners here.” Although not so tactfully spoken, he was hitting every legitimate point to hopefully make Scott a little less wary and a little more carefree about the whole thing. Although 'carefree' isn't a word that Bobby would ever use as a descriptor for his friend. “Besides, I ain't done talkin' yet...”

They rounded the corridor corner out into a more expansive display of the shopping center. It split down the center of the path to reveal a railing that encircled the opening to a lower shopping level below. He took the left fork in an effort to spot a place he wanted to stop at first and glanced back at Scott, making sure he was still keeping up. “...so like you were saying before... about us just being people or whatever? It sounded like you had some idea of what I was trying to say.” He let that hang in the air between them for an instant before continuing. “Like from a personal perspective.” It wasn't like Scott had to spill out every little detail about his personal preferences or anything, but the fact that he so easily understood and accepted Bobby for what he was going through may have been an indication of an even more personal understanding, firsthand. But he wasn't one to jump to conclusions.

“Care to confirm or deny?”



Tags: Cyclops
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Marc
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Character: Cyclops
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: Utopia - San Francisco


Wouldn't it be nice.... wouldn’t it be nice if Bobby's statement felt as confident in Scott's heart as Bobby uttered it? Scott could almost believe it, almost. Maybe a little longer, a few more restatements from various people -- maybe then, Scott could believe it in his head too when his heart wanted so badly for it to be true. Not having to earn the right or a chance to eat, sleep, have a roof over their heads. Not having to earn the right to exist. It was something he hungered for, had hungered for a long time now, without having quite had the words to express what exactly it had been he had been missing.

He chuckled softly when Bobby called him Slim. Inclining his head, he offered Bobby a smile. "Slim, eh?" He was, at that. Though he had a feeling he'd begin filling in a bit if he continued living on Utopia. "But yeah, things are different now." he agreed. "It's just.. " He gestured towards his head. "Takes a while to sink in. Like really sink in. Not just as an idea but as a reality. Just... gotta keep hearing it, I guess."

He thought about Bobby's statement regarding not owing anyone a check to cash worth more than they could pay. "Or want to pay." he added with a nod. "Forge has already said as much when.. " He broke off, his cheeks flooding with color. "He's already said as much when there was a bit of a misunderstanding. Between him and me. About what kind of payment I owed and might be able to provide. Or... willing to." The color hadn't left his cheeks, standing obvious against the alabaster cast his skin normally had.

"Done with all that." he repeated Bobby's words and it almost sounded like he was trying to commit them to memory. "Done." As he turned that word over in his mind and mouth, it was impossible not to hear the relief in his voice.

He was easily keeping up with Bobby, quickened step or not. In fact, he liked the decisiveness with which Bobby walked the mall, no amount of concern over whether he should or shouldn't be here visible in his gait. Scott likely would have moved with a little less self-confidence. While they both had shared the homeless vibe in New York, Bobby's mutation was less prone to landing him in trouble than Scott's was -- or at least Scott's visor had been. Now, with him wearing shades that didn't look all that different from what many of the teens wore, he doubted he'd garner any sort of negative attention. Still, old habits, particularly those born from fear, were hard to break.

Scott laughed, allowing himself to be drawn out of these thoughts, when Bobby half-appreciated, half-dissed the seemingly endless supply of black gym wear that had been left for them. "Yeah, same here. Never been much of a fan of Mega-Dearth myself and I sure as hell don't fancy the thought of joining any Clown Posse anytime soon. New duds it is." He smirked. "And I guess that, in a way, one could say that Yoyo owes me for certain... information provided." Yeah. The guy had an endless curiosity about certain aspects of sexuality and Scott had more than his share of experience to draw on and help a fellow Utopian out. While he wouldn't have made Yoyo pay for his info, of course, it still settled his mind a little bit to have provided first, before taking.

As they were walking, Scott steered them into the 'New Yorker', a store he quite liked for a variety of reasons. It was affordable, good quality, had a well-fitted cut and the attendants usually were not all that attentive (which had worked for him in one of two ways -- first of all no one giving him crap about his visor and secondly, there had been a few times when he had walked out with more than he had paid for). For that last reason, he kind of felt like maybe, he should be giving back a bit. Also, he smirked a little at the feeling of 'home' the name conjured up.

Moments later he was glad for the wide aisles this particular New Yorker sported for Bobby's question made him stop and turn to stare at Bobby right were he was walking at that instance. Personal perspective? Now that, he had been blindsided by. Because... he didn't know. He hadn't... he had never... the only person he had felt... Oh boy. That was...

"Awkward." was what he said first, talking about himself stopped right there in the middle of a thankfully empty aisle, likely doing his best beached fish impression at Bobby as he tried to think of an answer. There really.. wasn't one. At least not of the mind Bobby was looking for. Scott just never had... he simply didn't have any sort of experience. Not in that way, in any case.

And so, the only confirmation Bobby would get from him was a noncommittal shrug, downplaying the words he uttered as his lips quirked ever-so-slightly.) "Guys paid better. More desperate, usually, I think. Hungry for something. I didn't... mind, most of them, in any case. Dunno what that makes me." His tone was light, laconic. Too light, maybe. Too unaffected by what he was so clearly implying that he was almost straight-out saying it.

"As far as... romantic feelings go.." Now, he was blushing, finding this topic far more embarrassing to even consider. "I don't know, 'kay? I haven't had much.. I mean.. people haven't.. " He sighed and cast his eyes down, though Bobby likely couldn't even tell. "Not too much time and energy to even develop a crush on others, ya know?" He shrugged. "Though I won't deny that there might have been a guy. Maybe."

He began browsing clothes as he managed to get his feet moving again, grabbing only dark long-sleeved shirts off the shelves. He had been in New Yorker often enough to know his size and cut without needing to try them on. Jeans and pants were a little more problematic so he was saving them for later.

Tag: Iceman
Edited by Marc, August 18, 2015, 11:24 pm.
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Roman
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Character: Iceman
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: San Francisco Mall




As they strode in the New Yorker, Bobby immediately took note of the size tabs that littered every hanger on every rack in the store. He was about a Small, though it would fit a little more snug than if he'd tried on anything Medium, which he would be swimming in. Satisfied that the size Small correlated with the purple tabs, he went to work snagging any and every purple-labeled hanger from the racks he passed by, not losing any speed or step as he continued to listen to Scott as he spoke.

When Scott started to bring up Forge, but quickly stumbled over what he was going to say, Bobby instantly darted his eyes at the older man and narrowed them. He went on to state that he was rebuffed but also clarified about their island nation not being one where one had to use the oldest profession to get things acquired or accomplished. He was at least thankful that Forge didn't take him up on the offer, because having said all that about Utopia... it would have made Forge substantially creepy.

At the coloring of Scott's cheeks, he didn't imagine that Scott would be easily embarrassed or modest about talking about what he had to do to survive to Bobby. Bobby understood what it was like out there, after all. It was more that Scott was embarrassed that he misjudged the situation so thoroughly with Forge. Bobby might have laughed at the quirkiness of the circumstance if he wasn't also sad about it. Just how damaged were all of them, anyway? His own issues ran deep enough that it was probably impossible to tell.

Realizing that he was quiet for too long and that the pile of clothes in his arms were getting heavier and heavier as he was now blindly grabbing garments regardless of size of tag color, he nodded his head down once as he reiterated, “Done.” To punctuate their new chapter on their new island home more definitively. He was also about to remark that he used to listen to the Insane Clowns back when he was 14, but now realized that there were many things in life that one absolutely needed not to tell anyone else. He just pursed his lips together and offered an affirmative, “MmHmmm.”

As far as Scott's helpful information for Yoyo's benefit, Bobby could only imagine what it could be. “If it was helpful tips about how to speak to other humans, It wasn't very effective. But I really don't care. He's nice, I guess. He gave us shopping money. That's cool. I'm still not sure how I feel about the kid yet...” But that was neither here nor there. “He's none of my business, yet.”

He felt Scott stop in his tracks as Bobby ventured further and followed suit. Did he say something wrong? He turned to look at him, noting that his visor was pointing straight at his face. “It's not awkward, it's a legit question! We're all people, ain't we?” His voice came out a little louder than he anticipated, drawing a few curious or annoyed glances from shoppers in neighboring aisles. He caught the lingering gaze from a dude one aisle over and widened his eyes in response. “Who's talkin' to you?” His voice came out stony and abrasive as the man abruptly turned and went through a different rack with his back now to the duo. “Anyways, you were saying?”

Scott
 
Guys paid better. More desperate, usually, I think. Hungry for something. I didn't... mind, most of them, in any case. Dunno what that makes me.


Bobby, in turn, also shrugged as he leaned his back against the soft yet packed gathering of clothing in the rack behind him and scrunched his mouth up to the side. “I dunno 'bout what that makes you, exactly, but it sure as fuck doesn't spell romance.” In a small way, both he and Scott seemed to share a sort of stunted and skewed view on intimate human relationships. It was nice to know that in no small way was he alone in his feeble girl (or guy) getting skills. And as Scott continued to tumble through his words like he was falling down an endless flight of stairs, Bobby offered a rare, genuine smile that was subdued and not at all goading.

He approached Scott with a grin even wider and firmly slapped a hand down atop his shoulder and ducked his head down a bit lower. “See? That wasn't so hard, was it?” Although it did make Bobby a little envious that Scott was able to start scamming the island before it even occurred to Bobby. His only crush was the insanely untouchable Jean Grey, who looked at Bobby like a gross younger brother, if anything. But again, romance was never his forte. “Let's ring this shit up and move onto the next place, huh? I got enough for the both of us and then some.”



Tags: Cyclops
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Marc
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Character: Cyclops
Date: March 14
Time: Morning
Place: San Francisco mall


The irony in the kind of shopping he was doing currently, merely grabbing dark-blue and black long-sleeved shirts off the shelves, did not escape Scott. Here they had come to the city in order to get out of the dark gym clothes provided for them – and the kind of clothes he chose for himself in this trip? Not a far cry from the community clothing they were given if they lacked a large clothes pool to choose from or didn’t have their own clothes to begin with. Still, it would feel good to have more clothes that he knew actually belonged to himself. He hated feeling beholden to anyone, even if it was some faceless power somewhere in the higher reaches of political lobbying.

He found it fairly amusing that Bobby’s style in shopping was so similar to his own – they both were just randomly grabbing stuff they liked the looks of and decided that it would certainly fit, merely going on tag color alone. Quickly, clothes were piling up in their arms – sweaters, hoodies and long-sleeved shirts for Scott, that and more for Bobby. Oh well, Scott would deal with pants later, when Bobby gave him a moment to slip into a few real quick so he could try on their fit.

He caught the look Bobby threw him when Forge was mentioned. There was a knowing glint in that look, something that acknowledged that Bobby was well aware of the kind of proposal Scott had made in that ill-conceived moment with the island’s inventor. He still felt embarrassed by it – not because of what his offer had entailed (one quickly learned to not be squeamish about something so minor when trying to survive on the street), but because he had misread the situation so completely that Forge had been forced to rebuff him like he had.

It was weird, talking to Bobby like he was. Some things, you just didn’t talk about. You lived them, sure, and you did them, because they ensured your survival – but you didn’t go around telling the world about them. And especially not the people you were trying to carve out a new life with. Like Bobby. Oh well. Scott couldn’t keep walking around too embarrassed by his past to even mention it. It had shaped him, helped make him the man he was today – and while he could wish these things had never happened, that wouldn’t make it so. A part of him would always remember the mere boy he had been when his first john had picked him up. And the many times after. Some things just never were erased from your soul and would tarnish it forever. In the end though, he had survived where so many kids hadn’t. The streets weren’t kind to those who were too squeamish to do what was necessary to survive. Long ago, he had decided for himself that he would be a survivor, and here he was. Many years later, still surviving. More now – thriving! At that thought, he flashed Bobby a smile, attempting to tell him that things were alright. That he was alright. That for the first time in forever, he could maybe begin believing that they all had a chance at being alright.

He snorted out a laugh when Bobby suggested he might have given Yoyo helpful tips about how to speak to other humans. “Me?” He chuckled again. “That would go over well – 20 sound bytes on how to hem and haw your way through a conversation.” Shaking his head, he grinned nevertheless. “Even when I’m feeling mostly at ease ..” His hand did a quick wave to show Bobby he meant here, in this situation, with casual conversation flowing between them for the most part. “.. I manage to fumble my sentences. Naeh, he’s a good kid, I guess .. if a bit odd. He doesn’t need me messing up his communication skills any further than they already are.” He wasn’t sure how Yoyo would feel about being outed as a virgin or Scott giving Bobby the run-down on sex safety concerns he had presented to Yoyo, so he left it at that.

Romance. Yeah, Bobby was right. Romance had never figured into any of the encounters Scott had had. He had seen Pretty Woman once, and had at once laughed himself silly and bawled his eyes out. Shit like that simply didn’t happen, not to real-life street-walkers. So yeah, romance? Fuck this shit. When you hadn’t eaten in 3 days and the last pair of shoes was slowly rotting off your feet, you didn’t care about romance. All you cared about was making a quick penny or two in order to take care of bare necessities.

That didn’t mean he had been able to shunt all emotions and feelings sideways during his time on the street. It would have been easier, for sure, but .. he couldn’t. And so, there had been moments of friendship, moments of longing, moments of intense sadness. Never moments of romance though, which at age 30 was pretty much pathetic. He offered the other guy a shrug. “Yeah, nothing in the romance department.”

He liked the smile Bobby flashed him. It seemed .. unbridled, far more open than he had seen from Bobby so far. It wasn’t that Bobby didn’t smile – more that he used his smile as a sort of mask to hide behind just like Scott had his visor or shades as a far more obvious mask. They were far more alike than first appearances would lead one to believe.

Snorting out a chuckle when Bobby slapped his shoulder and stated that this hadn’t been so hard, Scott shook his head. “If you say so.” Because .. man, it had been hard! It wasn’t so easy for him to delve into these matters as soon as they got personal. Talking to Yoyo had been easier – there had been no need to get personal when talking about how to be safe in a sexual relationship. Talking to Bobby? Far more personal, and far harder.

“Alright .. ringing up sounds good, I think I’m pretty much set when it comes to shirts and stuff.” He was carrying 5 he liked, that seemed .. plenty. More than plenty – an abundance! “Still got to grab some pants and jeans and the likes.” Glancing over towards the stuff Bobby was carrying, he shook his head. “I sincerely doubt I’ll be sharing your wardrobe anytime soon.” First of all, there was far too much color. And secondly, more importantly – there were shorts. A lot of them. It made sense, what with Bobby not liking to feel hot, but not something Scott would choose to wear, ever.

Still, it was a fun afternoon, and when the time came to send their purchases back to the island with those not staying for the evening, Scott was surprised by the amount of stuff he had picked out for himself. For the first time, ever, he felt like he actually possessed a full wardrobe. Life .. was good.


Tag: Iceman, but none really as we are rolling over soon
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