xp_logs | Miles & Bobby, Friday night

Miles comes back from a successful date and imparts his newly found wisdom to his lovelorn roommate.

Date night number two was officially a success. The Good Dinosaur wasn't quite a date movie, but that's why Miles and Becky abandoned it halfway through and snuck into The Night Before instead. She had seemed amused by such a minor and typical act of teenage rebellion, so that scored enough points to guarantee a third date.

Miles was softly singing the new Missy track when he returned to the mansion and headed back to his dorm, but broke out into full volume when he stepped inside. "That dance you doin' is dummmmmmmmb, how they do where you from? Sticking out your tonnnnnnngue, girl, but you know you too young!"

"Dude is that from The Good Dinosaur soundtrack?" Bobby asked over his shoulder from where he sat at his desk, having talked about Miles's plans before he left for his date. "I did not see that coming. Huh." He shook his head, then spun around in his chair to better face his roomie. "So the date went well then, I take it?"

"Ay, Bobby, come on, man." Miles sighed dramatically, shedding his coat and untying his shoes (that he would normally just kick off but Warren would kill him for scuffing this pair). "At least turn on the radio for once. It's Missy Elliott. Not for kids. And we didn't actually see The Good Dinosaur. At least, not all of it."

"Oh, because of all the kissing, yeah? Haha, nice dude." Not that The Good Dinosaur seemed like that kind of a movie but whatever floats your boat, Bobby figured. "Because you have to close your eyes when you kiss. Everyone knows that." At least that's what he thought. Right?

Miles fell back onto his bed and chuckled. "We left because it was boring and snuck into the new Seth Rogen movie. The Christmas one. It was alright. Heh, but you make it sound like you've never made out with anyone before. Wait." He pushed himself up so he was balancing on his elbows. "Have you?"

"Pfft, come on, please." Bobby replied, not actually answering the question. He sat in silence for a few seconds, waiting for another topic to come up but it didn't. "Man, I'm like... like a human popsicle, 'cause, y'know, girls are always trying to. With their mouths." He pointed to his face, then stuck his tongue out and wiggled it around exaggeratedly for emphasis. "So yeah, right? You know how I do, Milesy." Still having not answered the question, he capped it off with a non-sequitur for good measure: "Dude I'm totally a boobs guy anyway."

It couldn't have been any clearer was not, in fact, as experienced as he wanted Miles to believe. And part of Miles knew that he shouldn't press, that it was an embarrassing subject. He recalled staunchly defending his own masculinity to Jean this past summer. But still, Bobby was his friend, and shouldn't friends tell each other everything? Well, most things, Miles thought with some unease, his eyes briefly flickering to his closet where he kept his costume and web-shooters hidden. But this definitely counted as most things.

"Hmm. I would've thought you for more of an ass man," Miles pondered, hoping to surreptitiously elicit some candor.

Seeing an out, Bobby sat up a little and raised a leg, letting out a loud, tooth-rattling fart. "How's that for ass? Hahaha!" He laughed a little too loudly at his own grossness, waving a hand back and forth to ward off any after effects. "But nah, it's all good. I approve, Milesy. She's... Becky, right?" he stopped to ask.

There were two possible reactions for such a move. As a 16-year-old boy, though, only one of those options was appropriate for Miles. He fell back on his bed, unable to control his wild laughter, which continued long after Bobby sobered. When he finally did regain composure, he untied his shoes, threw one of them at his roommate, and then kicked the other one aside so he could change into his PJs.

"Yeah, Becky Whitehall," he said, still chuckling as he dug through the small pile of clothes next to his bed for shorts and a shirt. "We have AP Physics together."

Dodging the thrown shoe, Bobby chuckled and got up from his desk, throwing himself down onto his bed. "Oh. My. God. Becky," he said in a clipped accent. "Look at his buttttttttt." Thanks to his new position he actually saw his roomie's own derriere as he changed into his PJs, and he quickly averted his eyes to the ceiling once he realized this. "AP Physics huh? Miles and Becky, sittin' in a tree, p-h-y-s-i... no, p-h-i-... goddammit." He muttered the last word under his breath and shook his head. "Anyway, this whole Becky thing, it's going good, huh?"

"You were right the first time." Miles sniffed the shirt he'd chosen, made a face, and dropped it back into the pile so he could find one that didn't reek. "And, I mean, I guess? I don't know. Can you ever even tell with girls? They never say what they're actually thinking." At least that's what Warren and TV would have him believe, and if he couldn't trust Warren or TV, then whom could he trust? "Like, I think she'd say yes to a third date. She didn't tell me to go to hell tonight when I kissed her good night."

"Well there you go, that's a good sign then, totally." Bobby said, adjusting his pillows before laying back down on his bed. "Man, now I'm going to have to find a girl so we can go on double dates and shit, heh." Because that way they could still hang out together, just with their girlfriends, right? "Get my mack, y'know? I try not to take advantage of my natural animal magnetism but I can always make exception I suppose." Not to put a too fine point on it, he farted again, this time quieter as he was laying on his back but still audible.

Miles nearly fell over laughing again, but steadied himself with a hand to the wall. "Who wouldn't want you? You've got all . . . that. I'd date you," Miles teased, smirking. "I mean, it's your last year of high school. Treat yo'self."

"Damn right you would. That's what I like about you, Milesy. You've got great taste." Bobby grinned at his roomie before hopping off of his bed and heading for his own closet, opening it and rifling through its contents. "Let's see, I know I have some awesome outfits in here just waiting to be worn." It was mostly full of funny t-shirts, jeans, and of course his favourite Mike Bossy Islanders jersey, but he might be able to scrape a few things together.

If he wanted some kind of beast monster as a girlfriend, Miles thought maybe a little uncharitably. Which is why he had enlisted the winged Lothario's assistance in date prep. And Miles was nothing if not helpful himself, so he just had to impart his own new wisdom to his roommate. "Nice pants, so stains or holes," he suggested. "Button-down shirt. Nice shoes, no sneakers. You want to look like you tried, but not like you tried, you know?"

"I... have some of those things," he said with a frown, flipping through item after item. "I think." Bobby might need to pick up a new shirt but he did have at least one nice pair of shoes - as worn to the prom - and there were a few pairs of pants without stains or holes. "Yeah, no, I gotcha now. Like, I woke up like this, right?" he asked Miles, turning around and giving him his best attempt at a Blue Steel gaze.

Miles nodded approvingly and clapped Bobby on the shoulder. "Exactly. See? You got this. Now just, you know, gotta actually find someone to go out with. Who you gonna ask?"

"Milesy," he said, turning his head to grin at his roomie. "the question is 'who ain't I gonna ask?'" Which made no sense whatsoever. Plus Bobby had no idea who he was going to ask. This promised to be interesting.