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Couch Kissing

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"Can't smoke, can't drink, can't do nothing." Roy flopped down on the couch.

It was a very nice couch. Practically new. Desmond wasn't sure where it had come from, although he had some pretty clear idea what had happened to Roy's old couch.

He wondered if anyone'd gotten high off the fumes when they'd burnt it. Maybe they'd worn gas masks.

"You could study," he said. It was what his mom'd have said, he thought. Still, that didn't mean it wasn't true. "Play some videogames." Not a suggestion his mom'd have made.

Roy flapped his hands. "It's not polite to play videogames when you've got guests."

"Oh. Right." Thanks, Mom.

"Being polite's really boring," Roy said. "You know?"

Desmond shrugged. He didn't ever get bored, really - if only because he'd figured out pretty quick that, to his mom, a bored son equalled a son in need of chores.

"We could play some ball, if you want." Practice never hurt, even practice with someone who didn't have a single athletic bone in his body. "That's not impolite, right?"

"Funny. You're a funny guy, D."

"I try," Desmond said, even though he didn't, really. He wondered what it said about him, that the guy he most enjoyed hanging out with didn't really seem to get when he was being serious and when he was, in fact, cracking a joke.

Not that he found it all that easy to tell when Roy was screwing with him.

He sometimes thought that maybe it was like family, like Roy'd become kind of like his crazy adopted brother, except that Desmond was pretty sure you weren't supposed to look at your adopted brother when he got all shiny-eyed and excited about some stupid videogame and think I'd hit that.

Roy chuckled. "Play ball, he says. Maybe if you wore, like, a blindfold?"

"I'll wear one if you do," Desmond offered. Joking, obviously; he wasn't about to risk breaking his neck or, less dramatically, twisting his ankle or something just because Roy was bored.

"Challenge accepted." Roy unslumped. "Cool. Hey, this will be fun."

"Oh, come on, man. I was just kidding."

Roy clucked at him. Desmond reminded himself his mom had raised him to be smarter than to respond to childish stuff like that. "Chicken, chicken, pants on stickin'."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Oh well, I only got one, anyway." Roy held up a pair of handcuffs. They were very pink and fluffy. "Nice, eh? You want some of this?"

"Um," Desmond said. "I don't think that's a blindfold."

Roy stared at the handcuffs as if he'd never seen them before in his life. Desmond was pretty - or, okay, very sure he hadn't so much as looked at any pot since Mom'd read him the Riot Act, so he figured Roy was either naturally a flake or just really out of it right now.

"It matches." Roy gestured vaguely. "It's a set, you know? All in one buy. You want the cuffs, you gotta get the blindfold."

I don't want to know. "Right." I really don't want to know.

"And girls like pink," Roy said. "If you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows.

I really, really don't want to know. "If you say so."

"I mean, can you picture a guy with these on?" Roy asked, and Desmond truly, honestly hadn't, until right then. Granted, he'd had to work at it a bit, but he'd managed it. "Like, naked?"

Desmond swallowed and lied, "No."

"Reeeaaally?" Roy unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

"Not funny, man," Desmond said, which was true, but also sounded a little harsh, so he added, "I mean, I make out with someone, I think it's nice to see their face, you know?"

Roy considered. "You mean you can only get in the mood when things are romantic."

"Yeah." Desmond was pretty sure that wasn't what he'd meant at all.

"I could light some candles?" Roy said. "And I've got some flowers. Well, they're plastic, but they look real flower-like. And - oh yeah. Oh yeah. The Street Fighter Z original soundtrack, baby."

"A lizard guy biting people's face off is romantic?"

Roy wagged a finger at him. "Judge not lest ye be judged. Now pucker up and prepare to have your mind blown."