fotd : concupiscible → "let's get personal"
fotd : "concupiscible"
story: second chances ; college era. wordcount: 994. rating: pg13.
"Maybe you should skip down to the easy part where you can say you're an atheist and you don't eat ham." Mike and Roy try to make a personal ad happen.
notes: soo this is actually post-Nathan, not that it particularly matters. College-era Mike stories have been eating my brain for some reason. This is pretty silly, and I have no excuse for it. And I don't care that your cell phone has a camera in it.
There's a web page full of blank fields staring back from the screen.
Instead of typing anything, Mike's picking at a hangnail and watching the cursor blink, blink, blink.
"I don't think I can do this," he says finally. "I don't know what to say."
"You're overthinking it," Roy says. He yawns and stretches, settling back into the love seat. "It's a personal ad, not the next Great American Novel."
At least the Great American Novel would give him more leeway. Mike props his chin on his hand. "I need a good tagline that's under 50 characters. And then, like, a blurb that's under 200."
Roy pretends to count it out on his fingers. "How many words is that?"
Mike gives him a look.
"Seriously though, can I see?" Roy sits up again. "Maybe I can help."
"I guess." Reluctantly, Mike passes the computer to Roy who takes it and sets it up on the arm of the love seat. There's not much to see yet.
Roy twists his mouth around as he looks at the screen. "Maybe you should skip down to the easy part where you can say you're an atheist and you don't eat ham," he says after a second.
"Oh yeah, that'll endear me to the masses." Mike leans over far enough to also see the screen. "No one's going to see that part anyway if I can't write a convincing blurb."
"Okay, but please stop saying 'blurb.' That word sounds fat."
"You sound fat."
Roy seems to ignore that. "Oh heyyy," he says suddenly. "You didn't upload a picture yet. That's, like, the important part! What photo are you going to use?"
"I don't know. I don't really have any recent ones."
"Well!" Roy whips his phone out of his pocket. "I'll take one right now. That work for you?"
"Um..." Mike reaches up to run a hand through his hair, before he really realizes what he's doing. "Isn't the light in here kind of awful?"
"Aw, she's self-conscious now! Come on, it's mood lighting."
"You're mixing your pronouns again. Just so you know."
Roy clucks his tongue. "Hey, haters gonna hate." He holds the phone up between them. "Okay, here we go. Why don't you do that lopsided smile thing again?"
"What lopsided smile thing?"
"The one you just did! You know, you're the 'that was funny but I'm going to pretend it was stupid so I can feel superior' smile."
Mike raises his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware I had one of those."
"You so do. It's like your 'I'm happy but I'm holding back to appear more serious' smile. But with more teeth. So, a little hotter."
"Sorry, I don't think I can do that on cue."
Roy sighs, "All right, then. Let's just do this. Here-turn your head this way a little. And put your elbow on the chair. Okay, now say 'cheese'."
"Cheese."
Roy squints at the cell's display. "Not quite right. Say 'half of cheese.'"
"Half of cheese."
"Not it either. Say 'dicks.'"
Mike smiles without meaning to and Roy pumps his fist in triumph.
"I got it!" he says, thrusting the phone in Mike's face. "See? That smile."
Mike tilts his head. "I guess I do look a little...condescending."
Roy grins. "Condescending...ly hot?"
"'Dicks' really wasn't funny though. In my defense."
"Hey," Roy says, holding a hand to his heart, "I do what I have to do to make you shine."
Well, it is a surprisingly good picture.
Mike hands back the phone. "Okay, send it to me. Maybe I'll use it."
"You have to use it! Plus, I got part of the bookshelf in the frame, so you'll appear all scholarly."
"Right. Thanks."
There's a beat of silence. Roy crosses his arms. "Okay, something's bothering you now. What did I say?"
Mike ducks his chin, scratching a spot on his arm. "Nothing, it's just... You really think I try to act like I'm superior?"
Roy looks startled for a second before he laughs. "Oh, honey, no! No more than anyone else. I was just giving you grief." He snaps his fingers then holds out the phone to Mike again. "Hey, take my picture. You can be the bitchy photographer this time."
"Um...okay."
"Hold on a sec." Roy takes his sunglasses off his head and puts them on. Then he fluffs his hair with his fingers. "Okay, I'm ready. What's my direction?"
Mike holds up the phone. "Okay, try to look...serious?"
"Okay. This is my Hugo Boss catalog look."
"That's less serious and more...vacant. And that's intently staring off into space while still looking vacant."
"I can do happy better."
"Okay, do happy then."
"Okay," Roy says. "This is my 'look how fun and loveable I am' look!"
Mike squints at the cell display. "It is?"
"Well what does it look like to you?"
"Like...'if I open my mouth wide enough, maybe someone will put a dick in it'?"
Mike snaps the picture after they've both dissolved into laughter and shows Roy the blurry result.
"Hey," Roy says, taking back the phone, "where's Rayn anyway?"
"Rayn? He's at some school function tonight. Why?"
"Oh." Roy actually looks disappointed. "He just always seem to walk by when you're saying something really awkward. Like how you want someone to put a dick in your mouth."
"I was being you."
"Sure you were."
Mike grabs the laptop again. "Okay, back to working on this now. And ignoring you."
"Hey, I still want to help! What if I promise to be very, very good?"
Mike looks at the nearly blank form, no closer to completion than it was when he started. With a sigh, he gets up and moves to sit down beside Roy, who gladly scoots over.
"So," Mike says, hands hovering over the keyboard. "I still need a tagline."
"Yes," Roy says, like he's trying to sound very business-like. "A tagline."
Together, they watch the cursor blink.
Rayn really does do that. Often. Wow, it's almost like I'm making fun of myself here ;)
story: second chances ; college era. wordcount: 994. rating: pg13.
"Maybe you should skip down to the easy part where you can say you're an atheist and you don't eat ham." Mike and Roy try to make a personal ad happen.
notes: soo this is actually post-Nathan, not that it particularly matters. College-era Mike stories have been eating my brain for some reason. This is pretty silly, and I have no excuse for it. And I don't care that your cell phone has a camera in it.
There's a web page full of blank fields staring back from the screen.
Instead of typing anything, Mike's picking at a hangnail and watching the cursor blink, blink, blink.
"I don't think I can do this," he says finally. "I don't know what to say."
"You're overthinking it," Roy says. He yawns and stretches, settling back into the love seat. "It's a personal ad, not the next Great American Novel."
At least the Great American Novel would give him more leeway. Mike props his chin on his hand. "I need a good tagline that's under 50 characters. And then, like, a blurb that's under 200."
Roy pretends to count it out on his fingers. "How many words is that?"
Mike gives him a look.
"Seriously though, can I see?" Roy sits up again. "Maybe I can help."
"I guess." Reluctantly, Mike passes the computer to Roy who takes it and sets it up on the arm of the love seat. There's not much to see yet.
Roy twists his mouth around as he looks at the screen. "Maybe you should skip down to the easy part where you can say you're an atheist and you don't eat ham," he says after a second.
"Oh yeah, that'll endear me to the masses." Mike leans over far enough to also see the screen. "No one's going to see that part anyway if I can't write a convincing blurb."
"Okay, but please stop saying 'blurb.' That word sounds fat."
"You sound fat."
Roy seems to ignore that. "Oh heyyy," he says suddenly. "You didn't upload a picture yet. That's, like, the important part! What photo are you going to use?"
"I don't know. I don't really have any recent ones."
"Well!" Roy whips his phone out of his pocket. "I'll take one right now. That work for you?"
"Um..." Mike reaches up to run a hand through his hair, before he really realizes what he's doing. "Isn't the light in here kind of awful?"
"Aw, she's self-conscious now! Come on, it's mood lighting."
"You're mixing your pronouns again. Just so you know."
Roy clucks his tongue. "Hey, haters gonna hate." He holds the phone up between them. "Okay, here we go. Why don't you do that lopsided smile thing again?"
"What lopsided smile thing?"
"The one you just did! You know, you're the 'that was funny but I'm going to pretend it was stupid so I can feel superior' smile."
Mike raises his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware I had one of those."
"You so do. It's like your 'I'm happy but I'm holding back to appear more serious' smile. But with more teeth. So, a little hotter."
"Sorry, I don't think I can do that on cue."
Roy sighs, "All right, then. Let's just do this. Here-turn your head this way a little. And put your elbow on the chair. Okay, now say 'cheese'."
"Cheese."
Roy squints at the cell's display. "Not quite right. Say 'half of cheese.'"
"Half of cheese."
"Not it either. Say 'dicks.'"
Mike smiles without meaning to and Roy pumps his fist in triumph.
"I got it!" he says, thrusting the phone in Mike's face. "See? That smile."
Mike tilts his head. "I guess I do look a little...condescending."
Roy grins. "Condescending...ly hot?"
"'Dicks' really wasn't funny though. In my defense."
"Hey," Roy says, holding a hand to his heart, "I do what I have to do to make you shine."
Well, it is a surprisingly good picture.
Mike hands back the phone. "Okay, send it to me. Maybe I'll use it."
"You have to use it! Plus, I got part of the bookshelf in the frame, so you'll appear all scholarly."
"Right. Thanks."
There's a beat of silence. Roy crosses his arms. "Okay, something's bothering you now. What did I say?"
Mike ducks his chin, scratching a spot on his arm. "Nothing, it's just... You really think I try to act like I'm superior?"
Roy looks startled for a second before he laughs. "Oh, honey, no! No more than anyone else. I was just giving you grief." He snaps his fingers then holds out the phone to Mike again. "Hey, take my picture. You can be the bitchy photographer this time."
"Um...okay."
"Hold on a sec." Roy takes his sunglasses off his head and puts them on. Then he fluffs his hair with his fingers. "Okay, I'm ready. What's my direction?"
Mike holds up the phone. "Okay, try to look...serious?"
"Okay. This is my Hugo Boss catalog look."
"That's less serious and more...vacant. And that's intently staring off into space while still looking vacant."
"I can do happy better."
"Okay, do happy then."
"Okay," Roy says. "This is my 'look how fun and loveable I am' look!"
Mike squints at the cell display. "It is?"
"Well what does it look like to you?"
"Like...'if I open my mouth wide enough, maybe someone will put a dick in it'?"
Mike snaps the picture after they've both dissolved into laughter and shows Roy the blurry result.
"Hey," Roy says, taking back the phone, "where's Rayn anyway?"
"Rayn? He's at some school function tonight. Why?"
"Oh." Roy actually looks disappointed. "He just always seem to walk by when you're saying something really awkward. Like how you want someone to put a dick in your mouth."
"I was being you."
"Sure you were."
Mike grabs the laptop again. "Okay, back to working on this now. And ignoring you."
"Hey, I still want to help! What if I promise to be very, very good?"
Mike looks at the nearly blank form, no closer to completion than it was when he started. With a sigh, he gets up and moves to sit down beside Roy, who gladly scoots over.
"So," Mike says, hands hovering over the keyboard. "I still need a tagline."
"Yes," Roy says, like he's trying to sound very business-like. "A tagline."
Together, they watch the cursor blink.
Rayn really does do that. Often. Wow, it's almost like I'm making fun of myself here ;)