![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-cypher.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsDoug decides to avoid everyone at Xavier's by using the computer study lounge at Westchester U. Of course, he runs into the -other- genius who has a total mad-on for him and no social skills.
And then Angie shows up.
Shifting his backpack farther up on his shoulder, Doug entered the computer study lounge at Westchester University. The fact that he was here had only a little bit to do with the argument about available processor power at the mansion. The study lounge really -was- convenient, too, as TAs tended to make themselves available to students in classes that required heavy computer use at scheduled hours.
But mostly Doug was doing his best to get away from the mansion. The past few days he'd only been at the mansion long enough to sleep. And even then, he was tending to get in at 3AM or later, trying his hardest to avoid everyone. He'd run into a few people, but mostly he'd kept to himself, hiding in his room and licking his wounds. He knew the lack of sleep was starting to show, but he'd kept going on coffee and not much else.
Settling himself into one of the chairs, he withdrew his laptop out of the backpack, plugging it into the available power and internet ports. He'd do some work on his computer, and then if he needed more power, he could always grab one of the workstations along the walls. Bending over the keyboard, he began to work, trying to lose himself in his assignments.
Quentin whistled a merry tune - at least, a tune he thought was merry, but really was rather off-key as he strolled down the hall towards the study lounge. An entire summer ahead of him, a new instance coming up in Warcraft, a whole host of books to read, and best of all, a remarkably Ramsey-free campus. Even if the jerk was in his class, it was -one- class, and Ramsey went to a private school where he had all the overclocked super computer power he needed. So despite the three hours Quentin had to endure being in the same room as him, he was content in knowing that Doug was never...
In the computer labs. He was in the lab, the good cushy one, with his pricey rich-boy laptop and his designer glasses and designer haircut and...a cup of coffee that Quentin was fairly sure could have fit some of a swim team and messy hair and three days of stubble. ~Double-You. Tee. Eff.~ He thought. "Mumsy and Dadsy cut off our trust fund, Ramsey? Having to work for a living like the rest of us?" he said dryly.
Doug looked up and scowled at the voice. He'd come to the lab to get away from snarky nerds with no social graces, dammit. And because all of his social graces had been scraped away by the past several days, he let his mouth run away with its first instinct. "Quentin. Fuck off and die in a fire, thanks," he growled, taking a deep swallow of his coffee, turning his attention back to the laptop.
"Ooh, aren't we just pissy today." Quentin said, smirking as he sat down at a desk, close enough to still be heard, if he wanted to keep taunting Doug, and far enough way that no one could possibly imagine they were friends. Or working together. Or speaking. Or alike in any way whatsoever. "Denial's not just a river in Egypt, you know."
"Quentin, I'd say I mean this in the nicest possible way," Doug said in a dangerously calm tone, "but I'd be lying through my teeth." He speared the other young man with eyes that said they had stopped caring all that much, because everything hurt so badly. "Shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you."
"Aww, whatcha gonna do, Ramsey? Use your mutant -powers- on me?" Quentin jeered, voice pitched low enough that the lab monitor couldn't make out what he was saying, he hoped. "Remember? I know what you -are-." He smiled, showing all his teeth, without a single ounce of sincerity. "Lemee see if I can guess what you can do. Oh, I know. You'll wave your -wallet- at me and your car and your pretty little girlfriend..."
Doug was up and out of his chair faster than Quentin could follow, and just like that Doug had grabbed a hold of his long-sleeved shirt (it tended to be a bit chilly in the air-conditioned lab) and had it twisted to a painful point. Doug kept an eye on where the monitor was busy standing with his back to the pair, helping another student with a problem. "I don't need a mutant power to break your fucking arm," he hissed in Quentin's ear.
Quentin had reared back when Doug grabbed him, and made as if he were going to grab Doug's hand and pull it off his shirt and then abruptly...stopped. "Get off me, asshole..." He protested. ~ShitshitshitshitSHIT~ He yanked his arm back hard, and heard a seam rip, somewhere. "Get off, get off, get OFF!"
Doug was back in his seat, looking studious, just as the monitor turned back around. The monitor looked over at the both of them, then headed back to his own workstation to do whatever it was he was doing. Doug leaned over to where Quentin was still staring at him. "Get the picture, Quire?" he asked in that same dangerously cold tone.
Quentin winced, and visible shuddered.. and then set his jaw. "I don't need to deal with your testosterone issues, Ramsey." He said quietly, and closed his laptop with a soft click. "Go get a blowjob or something from that prom queen girlfriend of yours and get back to being...well, as close to human as you get, I guess." He stood, and turned on a heel to leave the lab.
Just in time to see the door being opened by the 'prom queen girlfriend' herself, Marie-Ange Colbert.
And Quentin's heart picked up its already rapid pace to a thud in his chest. And that was half the problem. He -wanted- to hate her, but he couldn't. Ramsey's girlfriend was gorgeous, and better dressed then most. And unlike Ramsey, who was a smug son of a bitch, Marie-Ange had never been anything less than polite to Quentin.
He'd known her before he'd known who she was dating. TA'ing Calculus helped pay his tuition, and he'd found himself watching her intently from the first day she'd been in his class. She was pretty, and tall and had the most amazing legs, and she was -smart-. An architecture student, and Quentin had a fair idea of how difficult that program was.
And then all the little daydreams he'd had of getting up the nerve to ask her out after the semester was over were destroyed by one sentence. "Oh, yes. My boyfriend is taking those classes. Do you know him?"
He thought for a second that she'd heard him call her the prom queen in that sarcastic tone. She looked...upset, and surprised, and then gave a little toss of her head, and with a tight frown, walked over to the sheet printer, tapping her fingers impatiently until a set of drawings finished printing. Once it was done, she left - without a word. Not to Quentin - and not to Ramsey either.
"Huh..." he said. "Trouble in paradise, Ramsey?" He quipped nastily, and then backed towards the door, keeping the lab monitor in sight the whole time.
Doug managed to wait long enough for Quentin to leave the lab before he crumpled, buried his face in arms crossed over his laptop's keyboard, and cried.
And then Angie shows up.
Shifting his backpack farther up on his shoulder, Doug entered the computer study lounge at Westchester University. The fact that he was here had only a little bit to do with the argument about available processor power at the mansion. The study lounge really -was- convenient, too, as TAs tended to make themselves available to students in classes that required heavy computer use at scheduled hours.
But mostly Doug was doing his best to get away from the mansion. The past few days he'd only been at the mansion long enough to sleep. And even then, he was tending to get in at 3AM or later, trying his hardest to avoid everyone. He'd run into a few people, but mostly he'd kept to himself, hiding in his room and licking his wounds. He knew the lack of sleep was starting to show, but he'd kept going on coffee and not much else.
Settling himself into one of the chairs, he withdrew his laptop out of the backpack, plugging it into the available power and internet ports. He'd do some work on his computer, and then if he needed more power, he could always grab one of the workstations along the walls. Bending over the keyboard, he began to work, trying to lose himself in his assignments.
Quentin whistled a merry tune - at least, a tune he thought was merry, but really was rather off-key as he strolled down the hall towards the study lounge. An entire summer ahead of him, a new instance coming up in Warcraft, a whole host of books to read, and best of all, a remarkably Ramsey-free campus. Even if the jerk was in his class, it was -one- class, and Ramsey went to a private school where he had all the overclocked super computer power he needed. So despite the three hours Quentin had to endure being in the same room as him, he was content in knowing that Doug was never...
In the computer labs. He was in the lab, the good cushy one, with his pricey rich-boy laptop and his designer glasses and designer haircut and...a cup of coffee that Quentin was fairly sure could have fit some of a swim team and messy hair and three days of stubble. ~Double-You. Tee. Eff.~ He thought. "Mumsy and Dadsy cut off our trust fund, Ramsey? Having to work for a living like the rest of us?" he said dryly.
Doug looked up and scowled at the voice. He'd come to the lab to get away from snarky nerds with no social graces, dammit. And because all of his social graces had been scraped away by the past several days, he let his mouth run away with its first instinct. "Quentin. Fuck off and die in a fire, thanks," he growled, taking a deep swallow of his coffee, turning his attention back to the laptop.
"Ooh, aren't we just pissy today." Quentin said, smirking as he sat down at a desk, close enough to still be heard, if he wanted to keep taunting Doug, and far enough way that no one could possibly imagine they were friends. Or working together. Or speaking. Or alike in any way whatsoever. "Denial's not just a river in Egypt, you know."
"Quentin, I'd say I mean this in the nicest possible way," Doug said in a dangerously calm tone, "but I'd be lying through my teeth." He speared the other young man with eyes that said they had stopped caring all that much, because everything hurt so badly. "Shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you."
"Aww, whatcha gonna do, Ramsey? Use your mutant -powers- on me?" Quentin jeered, voice pitched low enough that the lab monitor couldn't make out what he was saying, he hoped. "Remember? I know what you -are-." He smiled, showing all his teeth, without a single ounce of sincerity. "Lemee see if I can guess what you can do. Oh, I know. You'll wave your -wallet- at me and your car and your pretty little girlfriend..."
Doug was up and out of his chair faster than Quentin could follow, and just like that Doug had grabbed a hold of his long-sleeved shirt (it tended to be a bit chilly in the air-conditioned lab) and had it twisted to a painful point. Doug kept an eye on where the monitor was busy standing with his back to the pair, helping another student with a problem. "I don't need a mutant power to break your fucking arm," he hissed in Quentin's ear.
Quentin had reared back when Doug grabbed him, and made as if he were going to grab Doug's hand and pull it off his shirt and then abruptly...stopped. "Get off me, asshole..." He protested. ~ShitshitshitshitSHIT~ He yanked his arm back hard, and heard a seam rip, somewhere. "Get off, get off, get OFF!"
Doug was back in his seat, looking studious, just as the monitor turned back around. The monitor looked over at the both of them, then headed back to his own workstation to do whatever it was he was doing. Doug leaned over to where Quentin was still staring at him. "Get the picture, Quire?" he asked in that same dangerously cold tone.
Quentin winced, and visible shuddered.. and then set his jaw. "I don't need to deal with your testosterone issues, Ramsey." He said quietly, and closed his laptop with a soft click. "Go get a blowjob or something from that prom queen girlfriend of yours and get back to being...well, as close to human as you get, I guess." He stood, and turned on a heel to leave the lab.
Just in time to see the door being opened by the 'prom queen girlfriend' herself, Marie-Ange Colbert.
And Quentin's heart picked up its already rapid pace to a thud in his chest. And that was half the problem. He -wanted- to hate her, but he couldn't. Ramsey's girlfriend was gorgeous, and better dressed then most. And unlike Ramsey, who was a smug son of a bitch, Marie-Ange had never been anything less than polite to Quentin.
He'd known her before he'd known who she was dating. TA'ing Calculus helped pay his tuition, and he'd found himself watching her intently from the first day she'd been in his class. She was pretty, and tall and had the most amazing legs, and she was -smart-. An architecture student, and Quentin had a fair idea of how difficult that program was.
And then all the little daydreams he'd had of getting up the nerve to ask her out after the semester was over were destroyed by one sentence. "Oh, yes. My boyfriend is taking those classes. Do you know him?"
He thought for a second that she'd heard him call her the prom queen in that sarcastic tone. She looked...upset, and surprised, and then gave a little toss of her head, and with a tight frown, walked over to the sheet printer, tapping her fingers impatiently until a set of drawings finished printing. Once it was done, she left - without a word. Not to Quentin - and not to Ramsey either.
"Huh..." he said. "Trouble in paradise, Ramsey?" He quipped nastily, and then backed towards the door, keeping the lab monitor in sight the whole time.
Doug managed to wait long enough for Quentin to leave the lab before he crumpled, buried his face in arms crossed over his laptop's keyboard, and cried.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}