kobes | au inbox; crimeboy jakob alvida

I'll make a bet - we'll get you doing more than a doggy paddle by the end of next week.

Spoilers? I got a good look in the shower so I'm inclined to believe you.

If you want to see how these fit, you don't have much time. Or should I come to you? Make a scene of it.

woahhhh, i knew olympians were all "triumph of the human spirit" and stuff but that's a big dream, q. i'll be lucky if i don't sink. there are a lotta hotties here. a LOT. i could be defeated. nooooOOOOOO no no i'm the scene-maker in this roommateship. me. myself. i'm coming, hold on.

I won't let you sink. Again, bad press. Too much paperwork.

But all that aside - are you going to come make a scene or not? I have a few other scene-makers in my inventory. They might even like me in pink, too.

[ what's a little harmless fun among roommates. ]

you must have an incredible lawyer, q. or publicist. or something.

[a huff, then a bellowed:] I said I'm coming! Jesus. [koby tosses his phone onto his bed, ignoring the insistent buzzing (more texts, he's late with an update and she's getting pissy, but christ almighty it's only been a week) and stomping over to the bathroom. he flings open his door, leaves it, clomps over the tile and then yanks open the door to quentin's side.]

Don't say "inventory", you sound like a nerd.

I know a guy.

[ or his dad knows a guy. a guy who has covered up a few things for him, yes, and who has protected q when he didn't know he needed protection. idly he thinks he needs to call his dad - it's been a while. he can't quite remember how long it's been and h̴̺͎̙͑̓͘e̴͇͙͛̚͝ c̵̦͚̈́͛̈́a̴̟͖̝̓̐̈́n̵͇̘̙̿͊͝'̸̢͓̦̐͒̚t̸̼̫̒͛̽͜ r̵̝̺͕̐̿̕e̵̡͓̟͐̓͒m̴̠͍̟̈́̒̐e̸̪͚̦͊͛͑m̸̝̪͆͘b̸͖̟͖͊͋͠e̴̝͎̝͒͌͘r̵̦͓͕͑͆ w̵̼͙͍͑͋͊h̸̢͓̺͑͐̚a̴̘̪͋̔̕t̴̡̻̾͊ h̵͉̟̓͌̈́͜i̵̦͇͒̾͆͜s̴̢͉͔͑̒̿ v̴̞̻͎̀͒̽o̸͉̦̘̓͝i̵͉̠͕͌̐̈́c̸͕̞͐̓̓e̴͉͕̺̾̈́̈́ s̴͕̻͎͋͆̔o̸̺̟͓̔̕͝u̸̼͎̽͑̔͜n̴̺͍͎̓͌̔d̴̞͎̠͛͊͝s̸̫͚͛́̾ l̵͍͎̟̈́̈́̓i̵̺͎̓͒͜k̸̙̞̺̒͌͠e̸̙͉͓̽̓͐ a̵͚͖̟̓̔̔ǹ̸̫̙̻̒̕ý̵̢̦̫͒͠m̵͇̺̻͌͒͒o̵̞̼̟̓̓͝r̸̠̘̈́́͛͜e̵̟͙͓̐̓͝.

but when the clomping of boots begins all the way to the moment those very same boots enter his room, he'll find q standing at his dresser, bent to dig out some kind of tshirt. and sure enough, he's in the pink underwear that fits him too tightly. the bottoms of his ass cheeks peek out, the fabric riding up. who knows what's going on in the front. ]

I've met many, many hot nerds. You say it like it's a bad thing.

Uh-huh. [that’s interesting, and koby should absolutely pursue that a bit more, because knowing about quentin’s dad will inform what he does next, how he approaches this odd little entanglement they’ve found themselves in – yes, the shower had thrown him, the show of something like genuine kindness deeply unnerving, but koby can adjust. he can strategize, he can adapt.

except quentin’s standing there in koby’s underwear, the silk straining over the curve of his ass and koby sort of forgets how to think for a moment. it should be comical, how poorly the pink panties fit, but – it’s not. it’s so, so not.

koby swallows, crossing his arms and resting his hip against the doorframe, like he’s unbothered, like it doesn’t matter what quentin’s wearing.] Now you’re telling on yourself. Where do you hang out where you meet that many nerds?

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