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xp_logsMiles and Bobby get ready for the holidays and talk a bit about the future. Bobby has plans (!).
With only three semesters left of undergrad, things were getting tight for Miles and Ganke. The living room of their shared Harlem apartment (found and mostly paid for courtesy of an absent Warren Worthington III) was littered with textbooks, notebooks, and dozens of brochures and pamphlets about post-college pursuits.
Having the mess out there did at least leave Miles's own bedroom relatively tidy. All that was out of place were a dirty plate on his desk from dinner last night, a couple condom wrappers on the floor than didn't make it to the trash bin with the condoms themselves, and his Spider-Man mask airing out by the window.
Miles was sticking to the wall reading through one of his many internship brochures when Bobby texted him, and he immediately dropped what he was doing to gracefully hop off and press the buzzer to let Bobby into the complex.
Bobby made his way to Miles' apartment, a route he navigated by way of muscle memory these days. He made a perfunctory knock on the door before swinging it open and walking right on in. He headed to Miles' room and repeated the same actions.
"What's up, homeslice?" he said, heading for his boyfriend's bed and bouncing onto it, hands behind his head as he lay back on the pillows. As an afterthought, he pushed his old sneakers off, one shoe at a time with the help of the other foot.
Miles grinned and lay down next to him, giving Bobby a quick kiss before settling back. "Just trying to get some stuff in order for school. Got these internship applications due in a couple months so first I gotta figure out what I'm gonna apply for."
"Internship, dang," he replied with a low whistle. "Sounds kinda fancy, Milesy." Bobby tried to think about whether he'd have to done for his program, but then again he hadn't started that. Yet.
"Whatcha' thinkin' of doing so far?" He turned on one side to face Miles, resting his head on a bent elbow with one arm while reaching out to playfully poke at Miles' hand with the other.
"I dunno. Like, what do you even do with statistics?" Miles asked rhetorically, as if he hadn't chosen the major himself after his first semester. "I took it 'cuz I like math and want to do something practical with it. I'm thinking maybe a drug company, they do stats for clinical trials and stuff. I have a friend who used to work at OsCorp, so maybe she could get me a spot. I dunno. Work is dumb. Why can't I just be like Warren or Tony Stark and do nothing?"
"Because then you'd be, like, Warren or Tony Stark, and not Milesy," Bobby replied. "I mean, they're awesome too, in their own way, but they're not you." He shrugged. It was true. "Although I'd totally let you be a sugar daddy if you did somehow make a shit ton of money, so please keep that in mind." He smirked and poked Miles in the side, teasing him, although he was 100% honest about that sugar daddy thing.
That was an arrangement Miles could work with, and if he'd ever had an incentive to somehow monetize Spider-Man, that was it. Food for thought.
"I promise you're my one and only sugar baby, for sure," Miles teased back, grinning. "So what's up with you? Anything fun at the mansion I missed?"
"And I promise to hold you to that," Bobby added. "Eh, not a whole lot." Truth was between work and playing video games - his two main pastimes aside from spending time with his boyfriend - Bobby wasn't the best at keeping up with what was going on around him. "Oh, but hey, they have a date for our work Christmas party now. If you want to go, that is."
"Sure. If you want to. I'm always down for free food and watching you and your coworkers get wasted." And if Miles were lucky enough not to get carded, he could join in, too, and not be stuck as the DD again. "Oh, and speaking of Christmas, did you want to come for Christmas Eve dinner with my family? Unless you have plans with your parents . . ." Always a prickly subject, but it was an important holiday and Miles would hate to miss it. He took one of Bobby's hands in his own and batted his eyes, hoping to be adorable enough to convince Bobby.
"Nah, no plans with my folks. I'm definitely down for spending it with you guys." It was often a prickly subject, and one he hadn't thought about this year, but there was no hesitation in taking Miles up on his offer. If anything, Bobby figured, it'd make his eventual call with his parents a lot easier; he already had plans. Sorry. Maybe next year.
He squeezed back on Miles' hand, pushing those thoughts away into the darker corner of his mind where they usually resided. "Hey, that can be my gift to you for the year, even. And you can just get me a Switch or the new Pokemon game or something, I dunno. We'll figure it out."
Miles snorted in response, but scooted closer so their faces were just a couple inches apart. "Sure, I have three hundred bucks lying around. You're trippin'." He leaned forward to kiss Bobby again, this time letting his lips linger for a couple seconds. His hand also abandoned Bobby's to find his hip instead. "You got any New Years resolutions?"
"Only to stop trippin', apparently," he said with a smirk. Bobby had been kidding, of course, thinking of sugar daddy type gifts. He didn't really want anything, other than a break from work and to spend time with Miles. "I don't usually do them though, mainly because they never seem to work when I do. How 'bout you?"
"I dunno. I think for once, like, things are pretty okay. No major crises recently, I'm surviving college, I got you." Miles's smile widened at that. "Maybe my resolution should be to somehow make you my sugar daddy. Flip the script a bit."
"Dude if I would, I could. I guess you'll just have to settle for a trans fat daddy, heh." He didn't have any left over Five Guys stuff today but Bobby often brought his boyfriend back food from work. His stomach rumbled a little at the thought of food. "Whoops. Hey, have you eaten yet?"
It took Miles a second to realize Bobby was referring to nutrition and was not stealthily (and surprisingly) coming out to him again. "Uh, yeah, I could eat. What're you in the mood for?"
"Anything but Five Guys please." He loved his job and the food there, but you could only eat so much of it. And Bobby ate a lot of it. "Let's see, we can check out our options..."
He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, and a pamphlet fell out along with it. It was for a local community college that offered a program in accounting, and he'd circled both the phone number and web site address on it.
"Oh yeah, I've, uh." Bobby scratched the back of his head. "Been lookin' at options too, I guess."
Reading through the pamphlet had Miles raising his eyebrows. "Accounting?" he asked, his eyes jumping from the pamphlet to Bobby and back, making sure he read that right. "I didn't know that was something you wanted to do," he followed, choosing his words carefully. "I mean, you know I'm a million percent behind you for going to school, right?"
"Yeah, it's weird, I guess I just... kinda get it?" It was hard for him to explain, but Bobby found that numbers and accounting in general just clicked for him. He shrugged and put the pamphlet away again. "Meh, I guess there's no accounting for bad taste, am I right? I'm still lookin' around." There were probably other programs he could do, after all. Maybe.
The bad pun earned Bobby a light elbow jab and then another kiss. "You gotta do it, if it's what you like. Don't keep second-guessing yourself or it's not gonna happen and you'll just regret not doing it. Besides, accountants make the big money, and then you will be able to be my sugar daddy."
"I do like it, I think. I've thought about it for a while, so yeah. Stuff I think about and figure out I like, well. It usually work out." He kissed Miles back, a smirk on his face. "Usually. And yeah, I really will need to build up a nice reserve of cashola for that, huh?"
"Better start saving now, cariño, 'cuz like my Ma says, you have to keep me in the manner to which I've become accustomed. Whatever that means. Hey, so . . ." Miles shifted even closer to Bobby, and his hand found its way underneath the waistband of Bobby's jeans. "You need to get food now or think maybe it can wait a little bit?"
"Five Guys and free Pepsi refills? Done and done, my man." He started to laugh but stopped as Miles' hand sought out its target. "Um, I mean, I'm not super hungry, so it could wait a little bit." Other needs were bubbling to the surface at the moment, and Bobby shifted to allow his boyfriend better access while tugging on his shirt at the same time.
"So many bad jokes about fresh buns and eating other things," Miles murmured into Bobby's ear, "But I've probably made them all before, so let's just skip 'em. Work for you?"
He had a joke about sausage on the tip of his tongue, but as Miles' hand reached its destination he decided to just let it drop. "Mmmhmm," was all Bobby could manage, and instead of speaking he kissed Miles back. It was a much better use of his time than making bad jokes, for the time being at least.
With only three semesters left of undergrad, things were getting tight for Miles and Ganke. The living room of their shared Harlem apartment (found and mostly paid for courtesy of an absent Warren Worthington III) was littered with textbooks, notebooks, and dozens of brochures and pamphlets about post-college pursuits.
Having the mess out there did at least leave Miles's own bedroom relatively tidy. All that was out of place were a dirty plate on his desk from dinner last night, a couple condom wrappers on the floor than didn't make it to the trash bin with the condoms themselves, and his Spider-Man mask airing out by the window.
Miles was sticking to the wall reading through one of his many internship brochures when Bobby texted him, and he immediately dropped what he was doing to gracefully hop off and press the buzzer to let Bobby into the complex.
Bobby made his way to Miles' apartment, a route he navigated by way of muscle memory these days. He made a perfunctory knock on the door before swinging it open and walking right on in. He headed to Miles' room and repeated the same actions.
"What's up, homeslice?" he said, heading for his boyfriend's bed and bouncing onto it, hands behind his head as he lay back on the pillows. As an afterthought, he pushed his old sneakers off, one shoe at a time with the help of the other foot.
Miles grinned and lay down next to him, giving Bobby a quick kiss before settling back. "Just trying to get some stuff in order for school. Got these internship applications due in a couple months so first I gotta figure out what I'm gonna apply for."
"Internship, dang," he replied with a low whistle. "Sounds kinda fancy, Milesy." Bobby tried to think about whether he'd have to done for his program, but then again he hadn't started that. Yet.
"Whatcha' thinkin' of doing so far?" He turned on one side to face Miles, resting his head on a bent elbow with one arm while reaching out to playfully poke at Miles' hand with the other.
"I dunno. Like, what do you even do with statistics?" Miles asked rhetorically, as if he hadn't chosen the major himself after his first semester. "I took it 'cuz I like math and want to do something practical with it. I'm thinking maybe a drug company, they do stats for clinical trials and stuff. I have a friend who used to work at OsCorp, so maybe she could get me a spot. I dunno. Work is dumb. Why can't I just be like Warren or Tony Stark and do nothing?"
"Because then you'd be, like, Warren or Tony Stark, and not Milesy," Bobby replied. "I mean, they're awesome too, in their own way, but they're not you." He shrugged. It was true. "Although I'd totally let you be a sugar daddy if you did somehow make a shit ton of money, so please keep that in mind." He smirked and poked Miles in the side, teasing him, although he was 100% honest about that sugar daddy thing.
That was an arrangement Miles could work with, and if he'd ever had an incentive to somehow monetize Spider-Man, that was it. Food for thought.
"I promise you're my one and only sugar baby, for sure," Miles teased back, grinning. "So what's up with you? Anything fun at the mansion I missed?"
"And I promise to hold you to that," Bobby added. "Eh, not a whole lot." Truth was between work and playing video games - his two main pastimes aside from spending time with his boyfriend - Bobby wasn't the best at keeping up with what was going on around him. "Oh, but hey, they have a date for our work Christmas party now. If you want to go, that is."
"Sure. If you want to. I'm always down for free food and watching you and your coworkers get wasted." And if Miles were lucky enough not to get carded, he could join in, too, and not be stuck as the DD again. "Oh, and speaking of Christmas, did you want to come for Christmas Eve dinner with my family? Unless you have plans with your parents . . ." Always a prickly subject, but it was an important holiday and Miles would hate to miss it. He took one of Bobby's hands in his own and batted his eyes, hoping to be adorable enough to convince Bobby.
"Nah, no plans with my folks. I'm definitely down for spending it with you guys." It was often a prickly subject, and one he hadn't thought about this year, but there was no hesitation in taking Miles up on his offer. If anything, Bobby figured, it'd make his eventual call with his parents a lot easier; he already had plans. Sorry. Maybe next year.
He squeezed back on Miles' hand, pushing those thoughts away into the darker corner of his mind where they usually resided. "Hey, that can be my gift to you for the year, even. And you can just get me a Switch or the new Pokemon game or something, I dunno. We'll figure it out."
Miles snorted in response, but scooted closer so their faces were just a couple inches apart. "Sure, I have three hundred bucks lying around. You're trippin'." He leaned forward to kiss Bobby again, this time letting his lips linger for a couple seconds. His hand also abandoned Bobby's to find his hip instead. "You got any New Years resolutions?"
"Only to stop trippin', apparently," he said with a smirk. Bobby had been kidding, of course, thinking of sugar daddy type gifts. He didn't really want anything, other than a break from work and to spend time with Miles. "I don't usually do them though, mainly because they never seem to work when I do. How 'bout you?"
"I dunno. I think for once, like, things are pretty okay. No major crises recently, I'm surviving college, I got you." Miles's smile widened at that. "Maybe my resolution should be to somehow make you my sugar daddy. Flip the script a bit."
"Dude if I would, I could. I guess you'll just have to settle for a trans fat daddy, heh." He didn't have any left over Five Guys stuff today but Bobby often brought his boyfriend back food from work. His stomach rumbled a little at the thought of food. "Whoops. Hey, have you eaten yet?"
It took Miles a second to realize Bobby was referring to nutrition and was not stealthily (and surprisingly) coming out to him again. "Uh, yeah, I could eat. What're you in the mood for?"
"Anything but Five Guys please." He loved his job and the food there, but you could only eat so much of it. And Bobby ate a lot of it. "Let's see, we can check out our options..."
He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, and a pamphlet fell out along with it. It was for a local community college that offered a program in accounting, and he'd circled both the phone number and web site address on it.
"Oh yeah, I've, uh." Bobby scratched the back of his head. "Been lookin' at options too, I guess."
Reading through the pamphlet had Miles raising his eyebrows. "Accounting?" he asked, his eyes jumping from the pamphlet to Bobby and back, making sure he read that right. "I didn't know that was something you wanted to do," he followed, choosing his words carefully. "I mean, you know I'm a million percent behind you for going to school, right?"
"Yeah, it's weird, I guess I just... kinda get it?" It was hard for him to explain, but Bobby found that numbers and accounting in general just clicked for him. He shrugged and put the pamphlet away again. "Meh, I guess there's no accounting for bad taste, am I right? I'm still lookin' around." There were probably other programs he could do, after all. Maybe.
The bad pun earned Bobby a light elbow jab and then another kiss. "You gotta do it, if it's what you like. Don't keep second-guessing yourself or it's not gonna happen and you'll just regret not doing it. Besides, accountants make the big money, and then you will be able to be my sugar daddy."
"I do like it, I think. I've thought about it for a while, so yeah. Stuff I think about and figure out I like, well. It usually work out." He kissed Miles back, a smirk on his face. "Usually. And yeah, I really will need to build up a nice reserve of cashola for that, huh?"
"Better start saving now, cariño, 'cuz like my Ma says, you have to keep me in the manner to which I've become accustomed. Whatever that means. Hey, so . . ." Miles shifted even closer to Bobby, and his hand found its way underneath the waistband of Bobby's jeans. "You need to get food now or think maybe it can wait a little bit?"
"Five Guys and free Pepsi refills? Done and done, my man." He started to laugh but stopped as Miles' hand sought out its target. "Um, I mean, I'm not super hungry, so it could wait a little bit." Other needs were bubbling to the surface at the moment, and Bobby shifted to allow his boyfriend better access while tugging on his shirt at the same time.
"So many bad jokes about fresh buns and eating other things," Miles murmured into Bobby's ear, "But I've probably made them all before, so let's just skip 'em. Work for you?"
He had a joke about sausage on the tip of his tongue, but as Miles' hand reached its destination he decided to just let it drop. "Mmmhmm," was all Bobby could manage, and instead of speaking he kissed Miles back. It was a much better use of his time than making bad jokes, for the time being at least.
