((Siyanda Nagi continued from Just Launch Me Into The Freaking Sun Already))
Faiza Nagi was dark-complexioned and dark-eyed in the way that people thought of when they described someone with careless patronization as "exotic". Her hair curled, unlike Siyanda’s, and she had tamed it into a mass of coiled dreadlocks decorated with gold rings. Her favorite colors were light pink and rose gold. She moved with an effortless grace more characteristic of a dancer than the junior varsity girls’ soccer goalie. She liked to wear flowers: floral patterns, floral accessories, floral perfume. She painted her nails in pastels.
Faiza had a smile like a razorblade, the kind of smile that promised to go for your jugular vein if given a reason, and she wrapped people, boys especially, around her fingers with ease. Siyanda judged that it was only a matter of time before she recognized her own power and most likely decided to use it for evil.
The hidden evil had been in full force in the week leading up to prom. Faiza had taken zem shopping (technically speaking, Siyanda had taken Faiza shopping since ze was the one who could drive, but there was no doubt as to which of them was in charge of the outing) and Siyanda had to despairingly admit that ze hadn't been strong-armed into most of the things she had talked zem into trying as much as ze had gotten caught up in the rush of it all. It was fun, in a way. Often, there was a discomfort that clung to zem at the idea of putting things on and taking them off and the amount of mirrors involved, but every once in a while they struck gold. Semi-literally speaking.
The dress was kimono-style, floor-length and loose with flowing sleeves. The fabric was sheer, patterned all over with sparkling gold vines and leaves. That was it. Simple and overwrought at the same time. Siyanda had put it on and felt incredibly silly, and then ze had looked in the mirror and kind of felt like a celebrity.
The novelty of that sort of high had lasted right up until it was time to actually put the damn thing on the night of, and then Siyanda had found zirself standing in zir bedroom 30 minutes before ze needed to be at Dean's house to pick him up, seriously contemplating the pros and cons of coming down with a sudden life-threatening illness. Ze had gotten over it. Sort of. Not really. But ze had put the dress on at least, and it still looked pretty great, actually. There was just the matter of having to wear it out in public, in front of people that ze knew, and also Dean.
Ze didn't really remember getting from zir bedroom to the Pucheros' driveway, but that had happened in one way or another, and Dean had met zem out front and Siyanda had just kind of sat there feeling like ze was going to throw up, but then Dean had smiled in that way he did and said, "You look gorgeous."
And you know, Siyanda had felt gorgeous.
When Faiza hit a home run, she knocked it out of the fucking park.
Prom was also kind of a blur, when all was said and done. It had been crowded and sweaty and loud, in some way that Siyanda had to assume was slightly classier than a regular party full of high school students. Maybe it was the price tag on the clothes.
But when all was said and done, it had been fun. Siyanda had recognized most of the songs played, so at least ze wasn't too out of touch yet. Nobody got pig's blood dumped on them, and there had been a couple of slow dances and nobody died during those either, and Siyanda had actually really enjoyed zirself, so all in all it had to be called a success.
So here they were again, sitting in the car in Dean's driveway. Car off, no noise but crickets chirping outside and their voices inside. Fewer nerves this time. Actually, it was pretty comfortable. It had been hard to have a conversation in the middle of the venue, between the music and all the people, not to mention the chaperoning teachers watching with eagle eyes in case somebody wasn't leaving enough room for Jesus.
This time had less small talk and more... insinuations.
"Are your parents waiting up?" Siyanda finally worked up the nerve to ask, toying with the hem of one of zir sleeves.
Luster
Tagging Pip again!
Luster
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
((Dean Puchero continued from Just Launch Me Into The Freaking Sun Already))
Y’know, he’d thought his suit had looked pretty damn good at first.
It wasn’t anything particularly special, there was only so much you could do with a suit without it starting to look ridiculous, but it fit him perfectly, which was a key mistake a lot of people made when buying a suit; you could have the best tailored outfit in the world, but if it was a little too long or a touch too short on you, then you might as well have been wearing a garbage bag.
Despite his ‘100% chillax’ policy and penchant for wearing nothing but sports gear, Dean was a bit of a connoisseur for suits. Hey, he looked good in them, you ended up picking up some knowledge about ‘em because of that.
His suit and dress trousers had been a deep red colour, catching the exact right balance between maroon and scarlet, not too gaudy, dark whilst still retaining an eye-catching flash of colour. He’d worn a waistcoat of the same colour underneath, and finished the ensemble off with a white shirt and black tie, and, yeah, he’d thought he’d looked good. And hell, he had looked good.
But then the time had come, and Siyanda had come to pick him up, and as soon as he laid eyes on zem all of his thoughts and his words had been knocked clean out of his head, because ze looked stunning.
And then when he told zem that ze looked gorgeous, ze smiled, and that was even more stunning as far as Dean was concerned.
Prom had been fun, despite being, as Dean had suspected, far too structured and rigorously monitored by teachers for his liking. It was good to just relax, though, which was his favourite thing to do after all, and hang out with Siyanda and everyone they bumped into; literally, when it came to the dancefloor. He wasn’t a great dancer, but that hadn’t mattered one bit. He’d had fun, and he could tell that Siyanda had too, and that was the most important thing of all.
He was glad that they’d gotten their awkward fumbling out of the way back in the coffee shop, too. It meant, now that Prom was just a memory and they were sitting and talking in Siyanda’s car in front of his house, that things could be much more comfortable and relaxed. It was warm, crickets chirping and the occasional firefly flitting past the windows, the red and gold of their prom outfits reflected in the front windscreen like candlelight.
There was an underlying feeling, too, one Dean wasn’t drawing particularly attention to, but one that was undoubtedly there.
“Hmm? Oh, nah, they won’t be,” Dean said. “Dad’s actually out at the observatory right now, probably won’t be back until morning, and mom…”
He turned to grin at Siyanda.
“Mom could fall asleep during a hurricane and wouldn’t wake up.”
Y’know, he’d thought his suit had looked pretty damn good at first.
It wasn’t anything particularly special, there was only so much you could do with a suit without it starting to look ridiculous, but it fit him perfectly, which was a key mistake a lot of people made when buying a suit; you could have the best tailored outfit in the world, but if it was a little too long or a touch too short on you, then you might as well have been wearing a garbage bag.
Despite his ‘100% chillax’ policy and penchant for wearing nothing but sports gear, Dean was a bit of a connoisseur for suits. Hey, he looked good in them, you ended up picking up some knowledge about ‘em because of that.
His suit and dress trousers had been a deep red colour, catching the exact right balance between maroon and scarlet, not too gaudy, dark whilst still retaining an eye-catching flash of colour. He’d worn a waistcoat of the same colour underneath, and finished the ensemble off with a white shirt and black tie, and, yeah, he’d thought he’d looked good. And hell, he had looked good.
But then the time had come, and Siyanda had come to pick him up, and as soon as he laid eyes on zem all of his thoughts and his words had been knocked clean out of his head, because ze looked stunning.
And then when he told zem that ze looked gorgeous, ze smiled, and that was even more stunning as far as Dean was concerned.
Prom had been fun, despite being, as Dean had suspected, far too structured and rigorously monitored by teachers for his liking. It was good to just relax, though, which was his favourite thing to do after all, and hang out with Siyanda and everyone they bumped into; literally, when it came to the dancefloor. He wasn’t a great dancer, but that hadn’t mattered one bit. He’d had fun, and he could tell that Siyanda had too, and that was the most important thing of all.
He was glad that they’d gotten their awkward fumbling out of the way back in the coffee shop, too. It meant, now that Prom was just a memory and they were sitting and talking in Siyanda’s car in front of his house, that things could be much more comfortable and relaxed. It was warm, crickets chirping and the occasional firefly flitting past the windows, the red and gold of their prom outfits reflected in the front windscreen like candlelight.
There was an underlying feeling, too, one Dean wasn’t drawing particularly attention to, but one that was undoubtedly there.
“Hmm? Oh, nah, they won’t be,” Dean said. “Dad’s actually out at the observatory right now, probably won’t be back until morning, and mom…”
He turned to grin at Siyanda.
“Mom could fall asleep during a hurricane and wouldn’t wake up.”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"Heh." Siyanda breathed out a noise that just barely counted as laughter. Ze felt the urge to keep zir voice down despite their distance from the house and the assurance that Dean's mom was probably not going to be disturbed by simple conversation.
Zir parents probably weren't waiting up. It wasn't much concern of theirs where Siyanda went at this point or how late ze was out, or at least ze hoped that was the case. Avoiding them before leaving hadn't been nearly as much of a task as ze had been anticipating, and it had left zem feeling both relieved and oddly disappointed.
But that was some emotional turmoil to not dwell on another time.
"I don't think I said this before, but, um... thanks. For asking me. I probably wasn't going to go on my own."
Zir parents probably weren't waiting up. It wasn't much concern of theirs where Siyanda went at this point or how late ze was out, or at least ze hoped that was the case. Avoiding them before leaving hadn't been nearly as much of a task as ze had been anticipating, and it had left zem feeling both relieved and oddly disappointed.
But that was some emotional turmoil to not dwell on another time.
"I don't think I said this before, but, um... thanks. For asking me. I probably wasn't going to go on my own."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“Hey, thank you. For, y’know, saying yes.”
Prom had been really good, no doubt about that, but… this was even better, honestly. Just hanging out in Siyanda’s car, relaxing and talking about anything that came to mind, feeling warm and content. There were no awkward pauses, just comfortable ones, happy in each others company, listening to the crickets singing outside. Yeah, this had been a really good night. Hopefully it could all end on a high note.
“I’m really glad you came with me. I kinda lied back at the coffee shop, I really didn’t have any other plans, so… thank you. Tonight was awesome.”
Man, he really was lucky. Far as he was concerned, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with Siyanda – and, looking at zem now in zir dress, you’d be blind or a fool to disagree with him – so he’d half expected someone to have already asked zem. Or for zem to have other plans, he knew how busy ze were. And if that’d been the case, he probably wouldn’t have gone, considering how close to the actual even their little date in the coffee shop had been. And if he hadn’t gone, then tonight would just have been one more night amongst thousands with nothing to distinguish it.
Dean turned and looked out his passenger side window, glancing at his reflection, lit up by the street lights dotting the neighbourhood. His smile faltered for a moment, and he took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t fuck things up from here.
“Should we, uh… head inside?”
Prom had been really good, no doubt about that, but… this was even better, honestly. Just hanging out in Siyanda’s car, relaxing and talking about anything that came to mind, feeling warm and content. There were no awkward pauses, just comfortable ones, happy in each others company, listening to the crickets singing outside. Yeah, this had been a really good night. Hopefully it could all end on a high note.
“I’m really glad you came with me. I kinda lied back at the coffee shop, I really didn’t have any other plans, so… thank you. Tonight was awesome.”
Man, he really was lucky. Far as he was concerned, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with Siyanda – and, looking at zem now in zir dress, you’d be blind or a fool to disagree with him – so he’d half expected someone to have already asked zem. Or for zem to have other plans, he knew how busy ze were. And if that’d been the case, he probably wouldn’t have gone, considering how close to the actual even their little date in the coffee shop had been. And if he hadn’t gone, then tonight would just have been one more night amongst thousands with nothing to distinguish it.
Dean turned and looked out his passenger side window, glancing at his reflection, lit up by the street lights dotting the neighbourhood. His smile faltered for a moment, and he took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t fuck things up from here.
“Should we, uh… head inside?”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Siyanda's hand crept across the space between the driver and passenger seats to Dean's arm. "Yeah, if that's okay." There was no real reason to suggest that it wouldn't be okay, what with Dean doing all the inviting here, and ze seriously doubted that he'd change his tune. He'd had more than enough opportunity to do so before now.
With a brief glance at Dean's face, Siyanda quietly opened the driver's side door and stepped out of the car. Ze had worn sensible shoes, in zir opinion, opting for a pair of well-worn bronze gladiator sandals rather than anything flashier. Heels, despite possibly matching the dress better, were forbidding for a few reasons; lack of options in zir size, the idea of having to break them in, all the potential disasters that could befall zem tottering around in a style of shoe ze wasn't used to all night. Now, ze had another reason to prefer the sandals: they were quieter.
Despite Dean's assurances, Siyanda couldn't help wincing slightly as the car beeped in response to zir clicking the lock on the key fob. No lights flicked on in his house, or in the neighboring ones, but Siyanda's nerves were just waiting for an excuse to overcome the easy atmosphere and bubble back up to the surface.
"Um, lead the way."
With a brief glance at Dean's face, Siyanda quietly opened the driver's side door and stepped out of the car. Ze had worn sensible shoes, in zir opinion, opting for a pair of well-worn bronze gladiator sandals rather than anything flashier. Heels, despite possibly matching the dress better, were forbidding for a few reasons; lack of options in zir size, the idea of having to break them in, all the potential disasters that could befall zem tottering around in a style of shoe ze wasn't used to all night. Now, ze had another reason to prefer the sandals: they were quieter.
Despite Dean's assurances, Siyanda couldn't help wincing slightly as the car beeped in response to zir clicking the lock on the key fob. No lights flicked on in his house, or in the neighboring ones, but Siyanda's nerves were just waiting for an excuse to overcome the easy atmosphere and bubble back up to the surface.
"Um, lead the way."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
It was a warm night tonight. Dean took a moment to breathe it in, drinking in the atmosphere and the still night air, the crickets and cicadas louder now that he was outside the car, and mingling with the sound of the air and the traffic in the distance. He could still feel where Siyanda had squeezed his arm, and his pulse quickened slightly. It had been… nice. Secure. Warm, like the rest of this evening. Something he could easily get used to.
He circled around the car, smiling at Siyanda as he did, the sound of his footsteps magnified by a thousand in his ears, cutting through the sound of the insects and his own beating heart. It felt like an awfully long time to reach the front door of the Puchero household, as he led Siyanda down the short path towards it. He glanced at zem again for a moment, simultaneously wanting to get inside and wanting to stay out here a little longer, before he turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The door, recognising the situation it was in perfectly, creaked as it swung ajar, and Dean winced as he stepped inside. He forgot it did that.
“Sorry.”
The ground floor of the Puchero house was open plan, a short hallway containing a mirror and a set of coat hooks leading towards a large space, kitchen and dining area lined with sliding glass doors on the left, sofas, TV and coffee table surrounded by photos and paintings of the solar system to the right. A wooden staircase was placed roughly in the middle, bisecting the room into two. It was almost completely quiet inside, the only sound being the hum of the fridge and the gentle ticking of a clock in the living room.
Perfect. Mom hadn’t decided to stay up late tonight for whatever reason. If experience was anything to go by, it would take knocking the entire house down around her to wake her up now. And even then, it wasn’t a sure thing.
“You can leave your shoes here, under the coat hooks. My room’s upstairs.”
They had a shoerack somewhere, but to Dean’s knowledge, only his mom had ever used it.
He circled around the car, smiling at Siyanda as he did, the sound of his footsteps magnified by a thousand in his ears, cutting through the sound of the insects and his own beating heart. It felt like an awfully long time to reach the front door of the Puchero household, as he led Siyanda down the short path towards it. He glanced at zem again for a moment, simultaneously wanting to get inside and wanting to stay out here a little longer, before he turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The door, recognising the situation it was in perfectly, creaked as it swung ajar, and Dean winced as he stepped inside. He forgot it did that.
“Sorry.”
The ground floor of the Puchero house was open plan, a short hallway containing a mirror and a set of coat hooks leading towards a large space, kitchen and dining area lined with sliding glass doors on the left, sofas, TV and coffee table surrounded by photos and paintings of the solar system to the right. A wooden staircase was placed roughly in the middle, bisecting the room into two. It was almost completely quiet inside, the only sound being the hum of the fridge and the gentle ticking of a clock in the living room.
Perfect. Mom hadn’t decided to stay up late tonight for whatever reason. If experience was anything to go by, it would take knocking the entire house down around her to wake her up now. And even then, it wasn’t a sure thing.
“You can leave your shoes here, under the coat hooks. My room’s upstairs.”
They had a shoerack somewhere, but to Dean’s knowledge, only his mom had ever used it.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Siyanda stayed quiet as ze followed Dean into the house. Small talk would have just come out awkwardly with the- tension? Anticipation? Whatever it was thrumming between them now. Ze just nodded and slipped zir sandals off where Dean indicated, and then took a deep breath.
It was a nice house, or at least what Siyanda could see of it was nice. They were almost neighbors, actually. It was interesting, how they'd almost existed in the same spheres for all of the time leading up to the decision to actually sit down and talk to each other. How many other people were there like that, people ze would turn out to really like and want to spend time around, but ze had never acknowledged because there wasn't time, or for a thousand other reasons.
Ze turned away from zir reflection and back to Dean, searching out his face again in the darkness.
"Upstairs is fine," ze murmured. There was nowhere else to go, really, except back out to the car. It was just another part of this conversation, the give and take, back and forth, all leading up to... to whatever this was. Siyanda's heartbeat had picked up again.
It was a nice house, or at least what Siyanda could see of it was nice. They were almost neighbors, actually. It was interesting, how they'd almost existed in the same spheres for all of the time leading up to the decision to actually sit down and talk to each other. How many other people were there like that, people ze would turn out to really like and want to spend time around, but ze had never acknowledged because there wasn't time, or for a thousand other reasons.
Ze turned away from zir reflection and back to Dean, searching out his face again in the darkness.
"Upstairs is fine," ze murmured. There was nowhere else to go, really, except back out to the car. It was just another part of this conversation, the give and take, back and forth, all leading up to... to whatever this was. Siyanda's heartbeat had picked up again.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“Okay, uh… fourth stair creaks all the time, so just step over it. And the first door at the top of the landing leads to my parents’ room, so…”
Dean shot Siyanda a look, a slightly twisted smile. He’d already told zir his mom was an incredibly heavy sleeper, so they didn’t need to worry about waking her up. And he was absolutely certain that Siyanda didn’t need to be reminded to be careful and quiet anyway. But even so…
“Y’know. Watch your step.”
Right now, it didn’t feel as though there was such a thing as too many precautions.
Climbing the flight of stairs felt like it took a year and a day. He was used to doing it in the dark, after coming back from early morning jogs and, ever since Amelia had introduced him to it, coming back from stargazing every now and then. Most of the time, he liked to pause midway, admiring just how different everything in the house looked in the dark, how unfamiliar the familiar became.
Not tonight, though. He had other things to preoccupy his thoughts currently.
The landing doubled back on itself, then took a right turn, leading along a corridor to Dean’s room, and, not for the first time, he was grateful there was such a distance between his room and his parents’. He led Siyanda through the second floor of his house, treading lightly, wishing they’d shelled out for a new, softer carpet like they kept saying they would.
They made it to Dean’s room without incident, though. He gave them a quick, reassuring smile, before turning the handle and pushing the door open. He took a step inside, flicking the lightswitch on, illuminating the unmade bed, the clothes littering almost every square inch of floor, and his desk strewn high with papers and textbooks and empty water bottles. Dean winced as he shut the door behind them.
“Man, I always forget about how bad the mess is until I get back…”
Dean shot Siyanda a look, a slightly twisted smile. He’d already told zir his mom was an incredibly heavy sleeper, so they didn’t need to worry about waking her up. And he was absolutely certain that Siyanda didn’t need to be reminded to be careful and quiet anyway. But even so…
“Y’know. Watch your step.”
Right now, it didn’t feel as though there was such a thing as too many precautions.
Climbing the flight of stairs felt like it took a year and a day. He was used to doing it in the dark, after coming back from early morning jogs and, ever since Amelia had introduced him to it, coming back from stargazing every now and then. Most of the time, he liked to pause midway, admiring just how different everything in the house looked in the dark, how unfamiliar the familiar became.
Not tonight, though. He had other things to preoccupy his thoughts currently.
The landing doubled back on itself, then took a right turn, leading along a corridor to Dean’s room, and, not for the first time, he was grateful there was such a distance between his room and his parents’. He led Siyanda through the second floor of his house, treading lightly, wishing they’d shelled out for a new, softer carpet like they kept saying they would.
They made it to Dean’s room without incident, though. He gave them a quick, reassuring smile, before turning the handle and pushing the door open. He took a step inside, flicking the lightswitch on, illuminating the unmade bed, the clothes littering almost every square inch of floor, and his desk strewn high with papers and textbooks and empty water bottles. Dean winced as he shut the door behind them.
“Man, I always forget about how bad the mess is until I get back…”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Dean was teasing zem. Siyanda knew that just from what ze could make of the look on his face. In other circumstances, ze might have been annoyed. Right now, it just gave zem butterflies.
Despite the assurances ze had already been given, Siyanda dutifully stepped over the creaky step and all but held zir breath as they passed the room where Dean's mom slept on. Ze just kept zir eyes on the sturdy form of Dean's back for guidance, resisting the urge to reach forward and grab at his shoulder. Every so often, the floor creaked under their feet regardless of caution, and each noise seemed twice as loud in the still, otherwise silent house.
When they finally reached Dean's room, Siyanda exhaled in relief, blinking against the sudden brightness when Dean flipped the light on. Ze snorted at the state of his room, but didn't comment. Ze had some room to judge - ze at least kept the floor clear, but the less said about zir desk, the better.
"I guess you get used to it after a while," ze remarked neutrally. At least the bed was clear. Siyanda perched on the edge of it, folding zir hands in zir lap and very aware that ze was sitting more stiffly than usual.
"You know, I-" Siyanda paused to swallow, nerves rushing back in full force. "I, uh. I've never done this before. You can probably tell."
Despite the assurances ze had already been given, Siyanda dutifully stepped over the creaky step and all but held zir breath as they passed the room where Dean's mom slept on. Ze just kept zir eyes on the sturdy form of Dean's back for guidance, resisting the urge to reach forward and grab at his shoulder. Every so often, the floor creaked under their feet regardless of caution, and each noise seemed twice as loud in the still, otherwise silent house.
When they finally reached Dean's room, Siyanda exhaled in relief, blinking against the sudden brightness when Dean flipped the light on. Ze snorted at the state of his room, but didn't comment. Ze had some room to judge - ze at least kept the floor clear, but the less said about zir desk, the better.
"I guess you get used to it after a while," ze remarked neutrally. At least the bed was clear. Siyanda perched on the edge of it, folding zir hands in zir lap and very aware that ze was sitting more stiffly than usual.
"You know, I-" Siyanda paused to swallow, nerves rushing back in full force. "I, uh. I've never done this before. You can probably tell."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“I, uh. I kinda had a hunch. And stuff. Heh.”
He hadn’t wanted to say anything, didn’t want to come off as rude or judgemental right at the pivotal moment. But Siyanda’s actions and reactions, ever since they’d left zir car, had tipped him off. Ze’d been happy and relaxed the entire evening long that they’d spend together. Now, as if a switch had been flicked, ze were on edge and stuttery. Nervous.
Dean could feel the nerves attempting to creep over him, scuttling in from the shadows where the overhead light didn’t reach. He couldn’t tell if he was just getting influenced by Siyanda, or if it was just natural nervousness setting in. Maybe a bit of both. He really did want this whole night to go off without a hitch, after all. There was always a chance for him to trip up over his own feet, stumble and send everything cascading down around him.
He let that thought stir in his mind for a moment, then he turned slightly away from Siyanda and let it disappear. A small smile popped onto his face. He didn’t need to start fretting. Those nerves could keep on bubbling away inside of him for all he cared, but as soon as he knew Siyanda was happy and comfortable, they’d all drain away. That was how he’d planned for this night to go, after all.
“Hey,” Dean said, softly, pulling open the top drawer on his desk. “You don’t need to worry about it, I promise.”
He bent over, rooting around inside of it, and after a moment of searching, pulled out a small rectangular tin.
He hadn’t wanted to say anything, didn’t want to come off as rude or judgemental right at the pivotal moment. But Siyanda’s actions and reactions, ever since they’d left zir car, had tipped him off. Ze’d been happy and relaxed the entire evening long that they’d spend together. Now, as if a switch had been flicked, ze were on edge and stuttery. Nervous.
Dean could feel the nerves attempting to creep over him, scuttling in from the shadows where the overhead light didn’t reach. He couldn’t tell if he was just getting influenced by Siyanda, or if it was just natural nervousness setting in. Maybe a bit of both. He really did want this whole night to go off without a hitch, after all. There was always a chance for him to trip up over his own feet, stumble and send everything cascading down around him.
He let that thought stir in his mind for a moment, then he turned slightly away from Siyanda and let it disappear. A small smile popped onto his face. He didn’t need to start fretting. Those nerves could keep on bubbling away inside of him for all he cared, but as soon as he knew Siyanda was happy and comfortable, they’d all drain away. That was how he’d planned for this night to go, after all.
“Hey,” Dean said, softly, pulling open the top drawer on his desk. “You don’t need to worry about it, I promise.”
He bent over, rooting around inside of it, and after a moment of searching, pulled out a small rectangular tin.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"I'm not worried," Siyanda lied on reflex. Ze was, obviously. It was only natural, right? The possibility that things might go bad, that they might get caught by one of Dean's parents... ugh, the possibility that if that did happen, they'd say something to Siyanda's parents in turn. Better not to think too hard about that.
Ze could faintly see the flex and movement of the muscles in Dean's back beneath his shirt when he moved, and ze had the urge to reach out and touch him again.
Siyanda cleared zir throat. "Just... let me know what I need to do, I guess."
Ze could faintly see the flex and movement of the muscles in Dean's back beneath his shirt when he moved, and ze had the urge to reach out and touch him again.
Siyanda cleared zir throat. "Just... let me know what I need to do, I guess."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Dean smiled at Siyanda’s lie, safe in the knowledge ze couldn’t see even a hint of it, as he continued to rummage through his drawer. It was easy to understand why ze was still nervous, still worried, especially considering he’d been exactly the same a few moments ago. The nerves were still creeping around at the edge of his mind, and reminding himself that he’d dropped an entire box full of his longboarding gear down the stairs one night, and his mom hadn’t even budged, wasn’t helping.
So he thought about Siyanda’s own smile, instead. There was a lot he could say about zir smile, but more than anything, it was that word of the evening; warm. Good-feeling, comforting, and, yeah, warm. He liked seeing it a whole lot. Hell, he just liked seeing zem happy a whole damn lot.
So when he thought about that, it was really easy for him to think that everything would turn out okay. He’d make certain of it.
He shut the drawer again, moving to sit down next to Siyanda on the bed, close to zem, legs touching. His thumb instinctively ran across the lid of the tin clutched in his hand. It had a picture of a tiger on it. Kinda… Kinda a crappy drawing honestly. Kinda fat and dopey looking.
“Of course,” he said, turning to look at Siyanda, smiling at zem. “I promise.”
He put his lighter to one side, resting on the bed next to him, then flipped the lid open, revealing the rolling papers and grinder inside.
So he thought about Siyanda’s own smile, instead. There was a lot he could say about zir smile, but more than anything, it was that word of the evening; warm. Good-feeling, comforting, and, yeah, warm. He liked seeing it a whole lot. Hell, he just liked seeing zem happy a whole damn lot.
So when he thought about that, it was really easy for him to think that everything would turn out okay. He’d make certain of it.
He shut the drawer again, moving to sit down next to Siyanda on the bed, close to zem, legs touching. His thumb instinctively ran across the lid of the tin clutched in his hand. It had a picture of a tiger on it. Kinda… Kinda a crappy drawing honestly. Kinda fat and dopey looking.
“Of course,” he said, turning to look at Siyanda, smiling at zem. “I promise.”
He put his lighter to one side, resting on the bed next to him, then flipped the lid open, revealing the rolling papers and grinder inside.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Siyanda couldn't help a little pop of nervous laughter when Dean finally revealed the goods. They'd danced around the subject, Dean teasing that ze needed something to "chill zem out". Siyanda had played along, coyly half-agreeing until it turned out they were really doing this.
Well, there were worse things to do on prom night. Having a baby or committing a murder, or staying holed up in zir room upholding the charade that ze had never cared what everyone else was doing. Sitting in a cute boy's room and letting him roll zem a joint was positively uplifting.
"Just... let me know if there's anything I need to do to help, I guess." Siyanda nudged zir knee against Dean's to punctuate the point. Or maybe that was just flirting.
Well, there were worse things to do on prom night. Having a baby or committing a murder, or staying holed up in zir room upholding the charade that ze had never cared what everyone else was doing. Sitting in a cute boy's room and letting him roll zem a joint was positively uplifting.
"Just... let me know if there's anything I need to do to help, I guess." Siyanda nudged zir knee against Dean's to punctuate the point. Or maybe that was just flirting.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."