Mr. highway's thinking about the end

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy cleared his throat lightly feeling the way Simon happily folded their hands together. He glanced around with some anxiety, like he was afraid someone might see them being... well. Friendly. With Simon walked directly beside him, so close that he could feel their shoulders brushing with every step, it was almost downright intimate.

He huffed lightly, still pink in the face, the nervous trembling have subsided from his hands now that they'd been on the ground for a few moments. "You're awfully friendly when you're high," he admitted begrudgingly, seeming unsure whether he liked that or not (or perhaps just whether he would admit it).

He listened to the warped reasoning Simon gave and considered it for a few moments in silence, walking with his eyes set upon the sidewalk. Finally, he said, "I guess I understand that. Certainly about alcohol. Still." He looked up chastisingly. "You can't go jumping off buildings, Simon. People get hurt doing things like that, whether you can really fly or not. Is this one your dorm building?" He indicated the one they were passing. "Or is it the next one? I can never keep them straight."

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

Simon eyed Percy with heightened interest, watching the pink as it danced around the other boy's cheeks. His own face felt warm as well, but he didn't pay any mind to it, much more concerned with what Percy was saying. He couldn't really remember himself sober at this moment, but from the way Percy described it, he wasn't this friendly.

"Am I?" Came his far-off inquiry in reply. "Well, maybe I'll have to change that." He mused, not realizing how silly of a statement this really was. Of course, sober, Simon would never be considered the friendly one of the bunch, much less the friendly one. His pride got to him far too much when he wasn't chasing it away with acid.

"Whether I really can or not?" He huffed offendedly, certain of his abilities to float off of the ground. He decided Percy was just being a worry-wart, though, and let the indignant expression slip off his face.

Stopping in front of the dorm that Percy pointed out, he studied it closely and carefully. Finally deciding that it was his dorm, he nodded, "This is it.." He replied slowly, almost unsurely and pulled Percy on towards them. His acid trip was proving to make much more difficult. The pull door became a pull for him and took him a moment to figure out. And when the reached the elevator, he was at a loss. "What the fuck is this..?" He said, staring at the two large doors enclosing the elevator behind them.

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy felt Simon's eyes staring at him, wide and curious and absolutely delusional, of course, but the attention unnerved him all the same, and he straightened a little defiantly, averting his gaze and letting a little bit of space appear between their shoulders.

He nearly laughed out loud in surprise at Simon's thoughtful murmur, eyebrow quirking a little at the ridiculousness of it. "Simon," he said wearily but somehow still managing to keep his good humor. "There's no way you're going to change that, you probably won't even remember tonight..." His voice tapered off as he said this, the realization that it was about to go back to the way it always was suddenly weighing exhaustively heavy on his shoulders. He thumbed his hair away from his eyes, not even bothering to respond to Simon's indignant squawking about his ability to fly.

He did let Simon tug him into the dorm building though, and proceeded to usher the tripping boy into the elevator. "What?" he asked, and then said, "It's just an elevator, calm down. Which floor do you live on, again?" His fingers hovered over the '5' button, which he thought might be correct, eyes settled quizzically on Simon's distracted expression. "Well?"

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

Simon frowned a bit to himself when Percy allowed space to find its way between them, but he ignored it for the time-being, allowing his brow to raise as he was being told how impossible 'friendly' was for sober Simon. "I don't see why I wouldn't remember tonight, I remember a lot of acid trips." He reasoned, not realizing he'd pretty much screwed himself over for later. It was going to be awfully hard to pretend like this didn't happen, when his own mouth was being used against him.

Leaning back against the wall in the elevator in a suddenly tired fashion, he looked over all the buttons on the panel, trying to figure out which one was the most familiar. Reaching forward and around Percy he pressed the fourth floor and stumbled back to steady himself against the wall again.

The elevator doors finally opened up and he let out a relieved breath, having worried the whole time about crashing to his demise in this state. Taking Percy by the hand again, he lead the way to where he was now sure his room was. He took a round-about route to get there, but they made it to the right place, and he fumbled around in his pockets for where he kept 'that damn room-key'.

When they were both inside, Simon was already lying face-down on his mattress, turning over to look up and at Percy. "C'mere." He mumbled, making grabby hands at the boy.

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy's eyebrows hitched up an inch or so up his forehead and he muttered something like, "I see." He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about the prospect that Simon might actually remember any of this once the drug had worn off, but he was fairly certain that Simon would be the more embarrassed of the two of them anyway, so he just shrugged. He glanced to the side, watching the other boy's arm wind around him to push the correct floor button on the elevator panel, a little miffed to discover he was incorrect in his assumption (not that he had any good reason to know Simon's floor anyway...).

He followed the other boy silently, hanging back in the doorway a little uneasily as Simon tumbled into his bed.

"Look at you," he muttered, huffing slightly and putting his hands on his hips in a classic pose of disapproval. "Totally helpless." But he still came when Simon gestured for him, stopping at the edge of the bed and looking down at the boy. "You owe me, you know," he grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets when he felt the sudden inexplicable desire to run his fingers through the other boy's hair.

Stupid.

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

"You're the one who didn't let me flyy-yy" He reminded the boy as he stood at the edge of his bed. Simon reached up with a hand after Percy had been standing there for longer than he felt necessary and tugged demandingly on the boys shirt. "Come keep me warrrm." He grumbled even though he was still in a suit jacket.

When Percy didn't immediately cuddle up next to him, he huffed out a little, tugging more at the boy's shirt, nuzzling his face into his waist.

So, this is what Simon was reduced to. The need to fly or cuddle. Two things he'd deny ever thinking about while in his right mind. Lord knew what Percy was thinking of the boy. Hell, Simon had no clue how very strange this behavior was. His mind was just stuck on the icky emotional thoughts that he never let passed that wall he built when sober. It was such a backwards way of thinking, to actually say and do what you wanted when high or drunk out of your mind, and hold it all in when you were sober.

He'd regret this tomorrow- but then again, he sort of wouldn't.

[PERCY YEATS]

"That's because you would've hurt yourself, maybe even gotten yourself killed," Percy said grumpily, mouth pinching into a tight line when Simon tugged beckoningly on his shirt. Oh no, he would not be swayed! He just had to keep reminding himself who it was he was dealing with here. Regardless of how he seemed now, Simon was not a cuddly, innocent, adorable young man. He was a level-one douchebag with a superiority complex that actually rivaled Percy's, and he was not to be taken lightly.

His determination wavered just the slightest, however, when Simon went so far as to nuzzled into his waist, and Percy sputtered indignantly for a few moments, face hot, hands flying out of their pockets and hovering uncertainly in the air.

"It's not cold in here," he protested, his hands settling slowly on Simon's shoulders for lack of anywhere else to put them. "Oh, come off it." He huffed like a harping mother hen and took a step back, saying, "You can't even take your jacket off yourself." He busied about attempting to get Simon out of his jacket and then his shoes, his face still a bright, give-away pink. "Here, lift up your chin so I can get your bowtie undone," he commanded in an attempt at his usual imperial, demanding nature.

He just needed something to do, a good excuse for not cuddling (because a dangerously large part of his brain kept asking, why not?)).

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

"I would've done just fine." He grumbled into the fabric of Percy's shirt, hand balling around it when Percy stepped back. Letting his hands fall back to his sides on the bed, he began to pout like the child he was being. Mumbling incoherently under his breath as Percy was pulling his jacket and shoes off.

"You never do anything I wanna dooo." He groaned even as he was lifting his chin to let Percy get that infernal bow-tie from around his neck.

Pulling at the boys hands when they went searching for something else to busy themselves with, he attempted again to get Percy down next to him. "C'mon, c'mon." He persisted, looking up with needy eyes that didn't belong there, but insisted on staring up at Percy.

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy rolled his eyes, scoffing quietly. "I doubt that," he mumbled under his breath, tsking impatiently when Simon wiggled restlessly. "Quit it, you should be thankful I'm doing this for you. I really am a saint," he added, never one to miss an opportunity to praise himself. He folded Simon's jacket over the back of his desk chair, unable to keep from grinning just a little bit at the childish whine he heard back on the bed.

"Stop whining," he said lightly, removing the bowtie with a few practiced flicks of his deft fingers. He popped the first few buttons of Simon's shirt for the boy's comfort before Simon caught his hands, and Percy swallowed the lump in his throat at how nice it felt having them held like that. He looked, startled, down into Simon's bright, needy eyes, and the last bit of his willpower crumbled.

"Oh, fine," he breathed out huffily, lowering himself with care down onto the bed so he was sitting on the edge next to Simon. He was still quite pink in the face, and his blue eyes flicked nervously around the room before inevitably sliding back to Simon. "Are you going to sleep?" he asked, his fingers still curled inside of Simon's. "Or do you expect me to just keep you entertained all night?"

Oh, Percy. No amount of huffing can cover up that blush.

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

Although his pouting continued, he was glad Percy'd shed some of those layers of his. He hadn't noticed it before, but that jacket had seemed to been weighing in on him, radiating heat. Cuddling probably wasn't what he needed, but it was most definitely what he wanted.

When Percy finally sat down on the bed huffily Simon's lips curled up immediately, and with a satisfied, 'uhmm-humm' he curled up to Percy, sliding his arms around the boys waist, settling his head comfortably into his lap.

"I'unno." He murmured, eyes finding their way up to Percy's again, not at all aware of how absolutely unusual this was for them. "I'm kinda tired, but not enough to sleep yet." He mused, rubbing at eyes eyes before tangling their hands again and sighing in lazy contentment.

He wasn't exactly coming down from the high yet. Everything was still melting and floating and burning around him. But he didn't feel as unstable as he had moments ago. He didn't even have the urge to fly anymore. The snuggling was working wonders on keeping him from running rampant through the dorm, trying to jump out of windows.

The silence allowed him to hear the sound of his own heart, which was pounding harshly, betraying the illusion he was completely relaxed.

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy had decided that the best way to deal with this situation was to just not let it phase him. That seemed to always be the trouble with Simon - no matter what it was he was doing, he always managed to get under Percy's skin one way or another, whether it be by driving him crazy or cuddling happy as a clam into his lap. So he thumbed his hair from his face with determination, trying to get his complexion to return to its usual milky white color, and said, "Making ourselves comfortable are we?" He lifted an eyebrow, looking down into Simon's upturned face, surprised at the rush of... incredibly positive emotions he felt upon really looking at him.

Simon smiled and Percy couldn't really stop his hand went it lifted to gently brush the boy's overly styled hair back off his forehead.

"What am I going to do about you," he mumbled, the words slipping out before he had the sense of mind to censor them. What exactly he was referring to - the intimacy of their current position or the drug-addled state of Simon's psyche - was unclear.

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

"Yes, very comfy." He mumbled with a nod, hand quietly exploring what was under Percy's shirt curiously, like he'd never seen any of it before. Adjusting his other hand with Percy's still clasped tightly in it over his chest, sliding it right over where his heart was still pounding quickly and sporadically.

"I dunno what you mean." Simon shrugged into Percy's lap, not realizing the stress he'd put the boy through tonight, trying to fly off of buildings, making him cuddle when they weren't the cuddling type. Simon'd only ever seen this side of Percy one or two times before. He only ever brought it out for such occasions when Simon was getting himself into trouble.

Shifting once again so he was lying back against the bed, he beckoned Percy over, holding his arms open so he could hug him close like he did his pillow some nights.

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy struggled to remain unphased by Simon's wandering hand; it wasn't really that he was surprised by the sensation of it. After all, Simon had seen and touched just about every inch of him at one point or another in a frenzy of drunken sex drive... but maybe that was it. The usual urgency for immediate gratification wasn't there, it wasn't sexual so much as it was...

Curious. Affectionate.

It was just so different, and it made goosebumps rise on Percy's skin, though he managed not to squirm or shiver.

He looked down at their entwined hands, gaze suddenly hard to read. He didn't look up until Simon spoke, and then he just smiled, mirthlessly. "Of course you don't. We've never understood each other. Hey - " He frowned a little disapprovingly when Simon changed position but ended up just heaving a sigh and toeing off his shoes so that he could lie down in Simon's arms.

This was getting cheesy for god's sake, and his face was pink again, tucked under Simon's chin like he was some goddamn girl or something.

...But it felt... nice.
Sort of.
He guessed.

[SIMON CHAPMAN]

Simon was admittedly relieved when Percy lay into his arms without putting up a fuss. Even high, the sensation of this was completely different from anything he knew the two had done in the past. He'd never been a cuddler, hadn't ever found anyone who he'd ever be interested in participating in such a domestic practice with. But then here he was with Percy, wrapping his arms almost possessively around the boy, as if someone or something would pull him off and away.

This didn't mean that he felt that way for Percy... At least, it didn't mean he was going to say he did. At least, he hoped he'd sobered up enough to keep that from slipping past his rather loose lips.

"Really?" He inquired after a long moment of thinking about what Percy had said, "I thought we understood each other quite well, actually- s'why we're prone to arguing so much." He pointed out, wondering if it was just him who had been thinking that. Either way, it didn't really affect them at the moment.

Unlike usually when he was under the influence of alcohol or ecstasy, he didn't feel that need to go any further with Percy. Sure, the idea was nice. But for now, he just liked this. He was sleepy, and sobering, and much more needy than usual. Percy seemed to be the best remedy. And he was, actually. For once, there was no need to fix the boy with a haughty look, or argue about every little unimportant thing.

"I like this." His mouth betrayed him again, one hand tracing small circles over Percy's stomach.

[PERCY YEATS]

Percy couldn't help but notice the comfortable way their bodies fit in with one another, settling against each other with perfect ease, like two puzzle pieces, and he curled up a little tight, unconsciously nuzzling closer into Simon's embrace. This was all wrong - it felt wrong, on so many levels, but it was also just so stupidly, stupidly perfect.

He looked miserably at the opposite wall, shutting his eyes, brows knit as if he were in pain.

"I think most people who understand each other don't argue all the time," he said dully, shutting his eyes and trying to not think about all the complicated, tangled emotions with which he'd been warring all night long.

He sighed shakily.

"I like it too," he said in a very, very quiet voice. "That's the problem."