Tuxedos clash with bruisings.

[x-wildchild.livejournal.com]

While Forge and Kyle are getting their tuxes fitted for Prom, Forge notices some of the side effects of Kyle's last fight. And gets an explanation. And asks -way- too many embarassing questions for Kyle's taste.



Kyle paced around the tuxedo rental shop restlessly. "This is laaaaame." he complained. "And boring. Can we get this over with?" He didn't mind the idea of the tux, though he was convinced he was going to look stupid in it. It was the waiting and waiting and waiting for the dozen other people who were also getting fitted to get done.

Why did proms have to all be in the spring? And why did everyone and their brother decide to get their tux fitted today? He leaned against a wall, ignoring the glare from the woman at the register and crossed his arms.

Forge stuck his head out of the booth where he was being measured by a rather irate tailor, whose mutterings he was cheerfully ignoring. "Lame and boring, but tradition," he offered to his impatient roommate. "Besides, I got told I had to make sure you get something decent to wear. And you can't go with Jay because there's some rule about not being able to pick out a dress or tux when your date's there. Marie-Ange said so. She's French, they know these rules and stuff."

"And Jay's getting his made by Clarice anyway, or altered, or.. whatever. Something.." Kyle said, right before being hustled into a booth of his very own. Darn ninja tailors. He hadn't even -seen- the guy. "Dude, hands -off-." Darn ninja tailors with no sense of personal space too.

The booth was entirely too small, at least, for Kyle's comfort. And of -course- they had to get 'accurate' measurements, and that meant losing his jeans. At least he'd worn boxers today, he thought. Boxer briefs would've just been embarassing. He kicked his jeans off, and out from under his feet and stood with his arms folded as the tailor measured. "First person who tells me shoes are traditional too gets a close look at my feet." he complained.

Stepping out, Forge turned around in front of the mirror, calling over his shoulder to Kyle, who was completely hidden behind the curtain. "Damn I look good. And yeah, Enrique knows that your suit's tailored for no shoes, isn't that right, Enrique?"

A muffled, "Si, si!" came from one of the booths, prompting a laugh from Forge. "The Progessor recommended Enrique. Said Enrique'd made suits for Dr. McCoy since he was our age. And I don't think I've ever seen Dr. McCoy wear shoes."

"He has 'em, just only for conferences and stuff." It'd been one of the things that Dr. McCoy had talked to Kyle about a few times. "But yeah. No shoes for the big blue guy." With the unending measurements over, at least the ones -below- the waist, Kyle went to pick up his jeans.. which weren't in the booth.

He looked over the top of the curtain, and grumbled. He'd kicked them out further than he thought in his haste to get them off and this done and over with quickly. And they were just far enough away that he wouldn't be able to grab them with a foot and drag them back in without opening the curtain.

Handing his trousers back to the tailor, Forge sat down on one of the many ottomans in the small shop and began tugging his cargo shorts back over his legs. As long as he kept thinking of the entire affair as just another process to go through, he could keep his mind off the self-consciousness of having strange little people with creative grasps of the English language taking measurements of his prosthetic leg and other parts.

Glancing over at Kyle, Forge started to speak, but paused as he noticed the large bruise stretching from his roommate's left hip all the way up to his ribs, over his kidneys. "Dude," he finally commented, pointing at the yellowish bruise. "looks like you might want to tell Jay to ease up a bit when you're doing the whole Brokeback Mutants thing."

To his credit, Kyle managed to finish pulling his jeans up, not get his foot caught in the giant hole in the left knee, and pull up the zipper before flipping Forge one clawed middle finger. "Dude, you're sick.." He commented. "Jay's not ... you know, into that."

"Just messing with you, I'm allowed," Forge said with a defensive laugh. "But man, that looks like you got the crap beat out of you. Trust me, I know from beating-induced bruises. And since I've never seen you get in a fight with anyone but Jay, what gives?"

Kyle looked down at the bruise and scratched his head. It didn't hurt anymore. He'd forgotten he'd had it. Left hip. Left ribs too, he didn't remember getting hit in the hip. "Oh! I got body slammed into a ring post!" He said, finally remembering. "Some ex-army guy. Totally outta nowhere, just -wham- and one second I was trying to kick him in the ear, and the next one I was kissing the post."

Forge froze hand in the air and jaw agape in mid-word. "Okay, you must be switching brains with Enrique here because I swear that was not coherent English coming out of your mouth. You were in some kind of fight? Ex-army... did Mr. Dayspring chuck you around in the gym or something?"

"Aw, shit." Kyle covered his eyes with his hand. "I kinda, um, picked up a .. you know martial arts thing, without the arts or funny outfits or excessive bowing and crap." It sounded good. Sort of. "One of the guys there's kind of a ground fighter. And, I'm, you know... not."

"Oh, okay," That made sense to Forge. Most of the folks who were teaching the fighting stuff at the school seemed to be into the whole honor-and-discipline stuff, and that really didn't seem like Kyle. "They don't have a problem with mutants there? That's awesome. You ought to let folks know about it, maybe some of the other guys might be interested."

"Not so far. Couple of the guys, you know, had some stuff to say, and I get shit for the ears.." he ran a hand through the still ragged but short haircut and grinned. "But mostly for the hair. Not so much with the mutation. But, I mean, dude, would you give shit to a guy who can kick you in the ear?" Kyle bounced on the balls of his feet, obviously in a better mood then he'd been in a few moments before. "I dunno. I might later, I guess. It's... kinda my thing right now, you know?"

Forge nodded to Kyle, then frowned and shook his head at Enrique, who was holding up two different ties, both in shades of green not normally found outside of a toxic waste spill. "No, no, Enrique. I told you I don't have any idea what color she's wearing but I can guarantee you it's not going to glow in the dark." He glanced over at Kyle quickly, a panicked look on his face. "Jennie wouldn't wear anything that's going to glow in the dark, would she?"

"Dude, why don't you just -ask-?" Kyle said, entirely exasperated. "And no, she's not gonna wear day-glo. You're not going with Clarice or Jubes." He smirked, and added. "She might count all the times your tie pattern repeats or something, but no colors that make people blind."

"Because if I ask," Forge explained with a roll of his eyes, "then it ruins her big moment of surprise. So, you tell Jay about your little kung-fu class thing?"

"But aren't you supposed to coordinate or something?" Kyle asked. "Like, get the color from her without the idea of the dress. Or something." He shrugged, and let a breath out of the corner of his mouth. "And totally not. He'd freak. Or go and want to ogle people and I have a hard enough time getting him to shut up about getting a dance troupe."

Forge smiled, nodding at the suit Enrique was holding up. He pointed with both hands, a proud look on his face. "This is why Enrique is a master. You can't go wrong with a classic. Trust me, we'll look awesome. And you and Jay will too. Um, which brings to mind... how's he not noticed the..." Forge pointed to Kyle's side. "You think he'd kinda, well, uh..."

Kyle shook his head, trying to hide the red creeping up his neck and ears. "We, uh, don't usually do stuff with the lights on most of the time anyway, and it'll be gone by tonight.. " He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stared at the suit, so as not to look at Forge. "Can we totally not be talking about this?"

Inwardly, Forge smiled. At least he wouldn't be the ONLY one whose awkward embarassment quota was filled this week. "No problem. Hey, speaking of dancing, new DDR machine over at the arcade. Spot me a few frames?"


~Thank God~ "Dude? New. Totally." Kyle held in his sigh of relief. He was worried for a bit that Forge wouldn't let up on the subject. "But if you get us kicked out for looking like a spaz, you only have yourself to blame, man."

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[x-icarus.livejournal.com]

AHAHAHAHAHAHA.

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