birdwithoutasong | College AU meme [open]

College AU meme [open]

Pick one of my characters and I'll toss a college au scenario at you! I've got some rough descriptions below.

Alec: prickly as can be, likes to pick verbal fights with people stronger than him to show he's smarter, not really concerned with his own safety. Double major in mathematics and astronomy.
Annabel: cheery but socially awkward, prone to babbling. Kind of the mad scientist type. Major in biomedical engineering.
I-No: the bitchiest mean girl, she's loyal when she considers her loyalty earned but she's capricious and enjoys causing others pain. Major in business.
Ky: incredibly earnest, religious, repressed. Army ROTC participation and major in political science
Nyxnissa: practical and prone to arguing with people in a way to try to get them upset, although she doesn't really enjoy that, just can't help herself. Major in mechanical engineering.
Sol: grouchy, not very talkative, lazy but really smart. Major in physics.
Valentine: much more interested in drinking and partying than college classes, in fact pretends to be less smart than he is. Audacious and outrageous. Major in LGBT studies, as much to piss off his conservative father as anything else. Minor in business, because otherwise his father won't pay for college.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sol does exactly what he’d been planning to do before Legault had spoken, which was to drape across the couch and pretend that he doesn’t hear anything. He doesn’t really need to have this man get on his case about fun, not when his concept of the same is so different from Sol’s.

Sol would take a nap in this position if he could, or would like to pretend he’s doing that. Which is why his eyes open again and he gives an irritated grunt by way of answer to Legault’s question. What is he supposed to say to that anyway? Agree? Not much point in that, when Legault has all the evidence he needs in front of him.

There are days when you wake up and you know instinctively that there isn’t going to be anything different about it. That’s what Legault thinks, anyway. For once, he doesn’t have big plans. He’s surprised to get up in the morning and find Sol has already left, so he decides to be a functioning college student for a change. He does his homework, he makes lunch for himself, he studies and works on a paper. He can’t remember the last time he had the common room for so long, but he enjoys it while it lasts.

And when Sol comes back, there’s a laptop and some books on the table (surprisingly, they offer no hint as to what Legault’s major might be. One is a law book, but another is about art history?). Legault himself is standing in the kitchen with some water on the stove, looking through his cellphone as he waits for the water to boil so he can have tea. Being the polite and friendly roommate that he is, he lifts his head and gives a polite wave to Sol, ready for him to ignore it entirely.

“Hello again,” he says with a smile. “I was starting to think I’d scared away.”

Sol had left in the very early hours of the morning to stand guard over his experiment for the last couple of hours until the machines had finished with the material, and then there were many long hours of testing it, seeing if it matched the analysis. It did, better than he could have hoped, and Sol has to remember to breathe at regular intervals as he tests weight, electrical properties, thermal conductivity, radiographic density, and then he’s willing to break it, testing tensile strength and recording his results fastidiously.

He should be tired, by the time he makes his way back to his apartment, but he’s riding high on the satisfaction of success and the celebratory cigarette has created a certain heat that’s still coiled inside of him.

And so when Legault greets him, Sol doesn’t grunt, just lets his lips stay quirked up into a smirk. “Yer too pretty for that.”

Well, those are five words he never expected to hear from Sol. It shows in the rare flicker of surprise in his face, eyes wide and eyebrows lifted before he shakes his head and smirks back. Clearly, something has happened. Sol is smoking, Sol is flirting, and he’s never seen one of those two things before.

Legault doesn’t move from where he’s standing, but he does cross his arms, looking every bit intrigued at whatever Sol is selling. He thinks it’s just innocent teasing, right now, but it’s no lie that living with Sol has afforded Legault many pleasing visuals of the man across from him.

“Too pretty? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Either way, hearing those words from such a stoic man does feel good, as much as he’s convinced Sol is up to something. “Well, if we’re being completely honest, I’m sure I can think of a compliment or two for you if you want them.”

Most people really aren’t sure if Sol swings one way or the other or no ways at all, and to tell the truth it isn’t something that Sol usually concerns himself about. Usually he’s got better things to worry about, his research and people are way too much work that probably won’t turn into anything. He’s had sex before, and it’s usually like this, the overflow of everything else that is going on in his life making a temporary connection that much stronger. Not that he’s assuming Legault is interested, not that he thinks he would be.

Sol’s smirk turns into a proper grin, not ashamed and not showing his surprise that Legault might think highly of his own appearance. “Would ya rather I say y’glow like a block’a rhenium under x-ray?” Sol doesn’t usually play the science nerd, but he also doesn’t usually play at all.

“I’d say I have no idea what that means,” he counters quickly and without the slightest bit of shame for not knowing. He’s not the kind of person who can be shamed for not knowing a fact about something here or there, and it rolls off his shoulders. “But I don’t think “glow” is the word I’d use to describe you.”

But what word would he use? He taps his chin thoughtfully, knowing Sol is waiting for some sort of response. “I’d start by saying you have nice arms, but then I’d be worried you’d use that against me.” Of course, it’s a ridiculously cheesy, cliched line. But they’re just teasing. There isn’t anything serious going on.

Sol schools his face back into something more approaching neutral while he waits for Legault’s assessment. This shouldn’t matter, they’ve never even bee friends, and right now it feels like nothing could shatter his natural high.

“Use th’arms or th’words?” he asks with a smirk. “Because I promise I can be gentle, if that’d be what y’want.” Still teasing, sure, but his gaze on Legault is speculative as much as anything else.

“I know that because of my gentlemanly demeanor,” he starts by mocking himself, “you think that I’m very proper, but no, I’m not really a “gentle” sort of person.” There’s an approximately zero percent chance that Sol has ever thought of Legault as gentlemanly, not with how often he wanders in during the night or early hours of the morning. He hides his walks of “shame” well, but they’re still what they are.

He taps his chin again, as if appraising Sol, and adds a second later: “I don’t think you’re really the gentle type, either. I meant the arms, of course. And am I wrong?”

Sol’s observant enough, even if he doesn’t act very much on what he does see or notice. Then again, he’d have to be pretty much oblivious in order to miss Legault’s night escapades entirely.

Sol doesn’t really know if Legault is flirting right now because he enjoys flirting, or because he’s actually interested. There is, it seems to be, one way of finding out, and Sol steps in towards Legault, his hands going to the other man’s wrists in order to shove him toward the closest wall and follow him.

Is he expecting him to flinch? Legault wonders about that. He doesn’t even cower when hands are raised, nor does he seem surprised at all when he’s been pushed up against the wall. He doesn’t even look away; he just shrugs, like he’s helpless, and continues to smirk like he’s amused about something. And he is. Very amused.

“My,” he starts, his voice lower, more hushed than usual. “You look an awful lot bigger this close.” And just like that, he’s pressing his knee between Sol’s legs. It’s not exactly gentle, but it’s not meant to be an attack, either. “I wonder just how big you really are.”

Sol doesn’t comment on that, but he does press his lips against Legault. If he wants to find out how big he is, then he can keep moving his knee because Sol can feel himself starting to stir. The words aren’t exactly subtle, but neither are the actions, and Sol minds neither one.

Instead he’s going to press a little harder, back against the wall, because Legault is making it pretty clear that he’s not objecting and Sol wants this, and sees no reason they shouldn’t both have it.

For once, Sol and Legault are in perfect agreement—imagine that. He does keep moving his knee, encouraged by Sol’s insistence to get closer. He presses just a bit harder, not enough to hurt, but hopefully enough to tell Sol that he’s not as subdued as he might be expecting. He’s satisfied once he finds a bulge; it’d be a lie to say he hasn’t thought about how big Sol is.

And though his lips part easily for Sol, letting him control the kiss, his hands do anything but. He may let Sol keep one of his hands pinned, but he pulls the other free so he can slide it under Sol’s shirt without a care in the world, like he’s wanted to do this before. To say Sol is someone he fantasizes about would be a lie, too, but he can’t deny that he’s thought about how he would feel.

Sol hadn’t ever actually figured on Legault being subdued, but it’s part of the fun that he isn’t. Even more fun that he’s actually down for this, that it looks like they’re going to relieve some extra energy into this particular action and reaction. Sol’s tongue licks into Legault’s mouth while the hand that’s on his hand presses against the wrist.

They’re half-tangled together at this point, limbs kind of difficult to separate from one another, and why would they want to? Sol can honestly say that he’s never really thought about doing this before, but he is now, and from thought to action is only a small step. He presses his hips in, trying to get Legault’s knee out of the way, but only so he can rub himself against the other man.

He moves his knee aside now that it’s served his purpose; if his hand were free, he’d have pulled Sol closer by now, anyways, but he’s reveling in the feeling of touching. There’s a thought in the back of his mind that things might be awkward if things go too far, but that just amuses him even more. Since when has either of them ever been easy to put up with?

He’s content to let Sol do the kissing, though he meets him every time. It’s clear to him which of the two really has energy they need to get rid of, and feeling Sol like this is almost electric. While Sol pushes against him, he moves his hand behind Sol without ever taking it out of his shirt, his palm moving along his flesh until it’s pressed against his back, holding him there and encouraging more.

Sol presses himself forward against Legault, and it makes the desire swell in him that much stronger. There’s still time to turn back — although it’s going to be awkward at this point no matter what — but that doesn’t mean that’s what he wants, doesn’t mean that he’s making any moves in that direction. Instead he’s going to use his hands to start to work at Legault’s clothing, as much as he can without interfering with anything else. This is just as private as going into one of their rooms.

He rolls his body to remove contact and then reinstate it, wanting this now almost with the same flame that he’d wanted his discovery in the lab to work the way it should.

No, there’s no turning back. He’s had no real plans for the day or the evening, but having a warm body rolling against his hips and pushing against him is a lot more enticing than a trip to a bar or a night alone. Already he’s moving a hand to work on Sol’s belt, eager to see just how well he fills out whatever he’s wearing underneath. Everything is warm and smooth movements, two bodies working together for the same selfish goal...until Sol gets to Legault’s clothes.

He’s wearing a buttoned up shirt, but there’s a cotton shirt beneath it. His belt is tight and a little difficult to get off. While his nimble fingers are more than capable of getting Sol’s clothes off, getting Legault undressed will take more focus than either of them might have at the moment.

Sol’s content to let Legault focus on getting his clothes off for the moment, to let Sol focus on the feeling of skin bared to the air and the touch of bare fingers against it. Still, he wants Legault to join him in this, and after a moment he’s going to work on the belt. It’s certainly frustrating to tug it out, and while it’s not impossible it is too much to make him want to put up with much more of that.

They always say that where there’s a will, there’s a way, and while Sol considers it for a moment, even considers that this might be just the thing to dump cold water on Legault’s ardour, he’s also not sure this is going to work any other way. So he goes for the simplest path forward, one hand on either side of that row of buttons as he pulls, letting the buttons fall off and onto the ground.

Well, that’s entirely unexpected. Here he is, always dressed to look good, and Sol’s response is to rip his dress shirt off. He blinks slowly as he tries to process what he’s seeing. He can hear the fabric tear, feel it give way and free his undershirt to the air...he gives Sol a look as he does it, one that’s hard to decipher. It’s not exactly warm or cold, it’s like he’s thinking about something.

“Impressive.” It’s just one word first as he presses his body back to Sol’s, hands getting back to work on everything he still needs to get out of the way. With Sol’s belt off, his pants could come down with a forceful push, but he wants to save that for a moment. He grips Sol’s shirt, feigning like he’s going to rip it off, but starts pulling it up instead. With some cooperation from Sol, he’ll have the shirt off easily.

But now Legault has seen how rough Sol can be, and he feels a strong need to interrupt again. “If you like it rough, there’s no reason to hold back. It’s not like we’re strangers.” And now his mind is turning; he needs to repay the favor for Sol somehow.

Edited 2015-05-02 21:39 (UTC)

Sol is plenty willing to wait and see on that look, because what he’s done is already done with. If Legault wants to get pissy about it then he would probably do so either right away or after they’re finished having sex, and getting angry after is fine with Sol. Or at least vastly preferable to getting angry about things and calling off sex altogether.

Still, there’s enough in Legault’s reaction, when he gives it, to make Sol confident that there wouldn’t be yelling or anger later. Regret, sure, but that could happen without a torn shirt.

“As y’wish,” he says, but he doesn’t push immediately into further roughness. There’s a time and place for these things, after all, and for now he’s going to focus on getting the rest of Legault’s clothing off.

Sol really doesn’t know Legault well if he’s expecting regret from this encounter; there are very few things that he’s expecting from this encounter, and all of them are wonderful. Sex is one thing. Finally getting to feel Sol completely is another, and, well, Legault is just the sort of person who might enjoy the awkwardness that follows, so confident in himself and his charisma that he doubts it will be awkward for himself.

Now that he has the overshirt off, Legault roughly pulls at the fabric of his shirt, untucking it from his pants before he lifts his arms. Regardless of whether he pulls the shirt off himself or Sol does it for him, once he’s left with just his pants he’s sticking his hands back on Sol, letting him figure out the rest from there.

Sol can figure out how to get at the button on the other man’s pants, and then to unzip them. It’s an easy enough task, and the rewards are certainly with, Sol’s fingers slipping under boxers to touch the bare flesh of Legault’s ass, to slide around to find his waist. Sol has their fronts pressed together, and he doesn’t want to interfere with that, even as he does shift for a moment to try to peel down, too, Legault’s boxers.

They’re getting closer to skin on skin, and while part of Sol considers moving this to a bed — they do have two of them — he dismisses the idea after a moment. There’s something that feels right about their current location.

Legault is just fine with how they’re proceeding. He hums softly, appreciatively as Sol starts to get a bit more adventurous with his hand, but that isn’t enough to convince Legault to stay where he is. No, as soon as Sol starts to remove Legault’s underwear, he breaks contact just long enough so that they’re easily pushed down. He has every bit of confidence in his nakedness. He might not be as bulky as Sol (and now Sol can see Legault has a fair more scars than the normal person on his body, too), but he knows he’s damned attractive.

And like Sol, he doesn’t peel away to look for a bed. If it’s skin on skin that they’re going for, it’s his turn to finish undressing Sol. His fingers are quick and nimble and he doesn’t waste any time in getting getting those pants pooled around Sol’s ankles. As for Sol’s underwear, well, he quite enjoys that sight, so he leans back in again, but not until after he gives Sol’s groin a firm grope, thumb pressing against the outline of his cock through the fabric.

Sol groans against the contact, letting himself feel the enjoyment of it, and expressing it. His hands shift to pull Legault a little of the way away from the wall so he can squeeze the other man’s ass, to appreciate the contact of flesh and muscle underneath his fingers. It reminds him of a very good reason for why they might move this to a bedroom. Sol dropped his head to press his teeth against the skin over Legault’s collarbone, sucking a bruise against it and giving himself a moment to not think.

This was a great idea, though. “D’you have lube?” Sol asks, because he’s aroused enough now to focus on where this might be going, to want to at least know what his options are. And if there’s lubricant suitable for human use in this apartment it’s almost certainly in Legault’s possession.

There’s a part of Legault that’s amused that Sol has the clarity of mind to even ask about lube now. Here they are, clothes scattered about them while they stand in the kitchen. Their naked bodies are a testament to how ready they really are for a lubricant, but how fun would breaking apart from each other be? His room is so far away.

“I don’t keep lube in the kitchen, no,” he starts, leaning against Sol so that Sol can suck at him and feel him all he wants. Legault’s smaller hands slide over his stomach and chest in the process, and a soft “hm” sound escapes him after a moment. “We could always do something that doesn’t need lube, you know. You’ve had such a big...” And he emphasizes that word by squeezing Sol’s bulge, hand moving lower. “...day. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Coming from some people, “tell me what you want” might sound...whorish, but there’s a confidence to Legault’s voice, a rise in his words that come off as more of a challenge. He dares Sol to try and come up with something he wants and to selfishly ask for it.

Sol’s lips tick up into a smirk. Maintaining any sort of control whatsoever right now is difficult, more difficult than it would have been if he’d just stayed away from Legault in the first place, but it’s also rewarding, giving a thrill of its own when he does manage it. Maintaining control in the face of what Legault is offering is even more difficult.

“I want’t’fuck you,” Sol says, smirk still firmly in place. That much should have been obvious from what he’d asked for, but it seemed as though Legault has other interests, or just doesn’ want to have to pull away. But the other man had asked, and Sol is going to move his head to suck another patch of skin, to make as convincing of an argument as he can. He could be persuaded otherwise, but not by the simple fact that it would be hard, and the fact that he was.

College AU meme [open]

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NEW THREAD!

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oh no is that icon new, it's cute

it's because I have an excuse to have a paid account for him now

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