ax_main | Scott and Warren, Backdated to Aug 8

After narrowly surviving his Tamara encounter, Warren comes to Scott for some love life discussion. Scott... tries.

After the movie, Warren came back to his room feeling introspective and frazzled. He knew Tamara was annoyed with how cool he'd been toward her, but politeness was his only shield at that point. He had no idea how to feel, and wasn't sure how to figure it out. He came through the door and tore off his tank top, which had been bugging his wings all day--it was a little too tight--revealing more than just the two suckerbites Tamara had taken issue with, along with the faint pink scratches still evident between his shoulderblades. Only then did he greet his roommate with a quiet, "Hey. Sup?"

"Hey." Scott was lying on his bed, a book in hand, but he glanced over at his roommate as he entered. Well. It looked like Warren was having....a day. He'd have guessed a bad one, but he was also bedecked with hickies. "What's up?"

"Ugh," Warren said. He flopped face-down onto his neatly made bed, bouncing a few times. Then he turned his head sideways, arms curling under the pillow, and inspected his inscrutable roommate.

Scott was a dick. And that might be exactly what he needed right now. So he asked, "Are you any good with girls?"

"Worthington, I am not good at people. You know this." Scott sat up. "But I'm guessing this isn't about your thing with Beaubier."

"No." Warren sighed, wings fluttering before settling against his back again. "I mean, sort of, but not. You know Tamara, the girl with the, like, cool dragon wings?"

Unsurprisingly, Warren's social life was far more complex than Scott's own. How did Worthington have the time to wear 80 outfits in 20 minutes, go on a date with Beaubier, and somehow simultaneously manage to get into some kind of issue with Tamara that resulted in him asking how good with girls Scott was? There were only so many hours in each day.

"Yeah?"

"So, we've bonded over winged stuff, and before she could fly with her own I took he up with me. And she's a big flirt, and so am I, so we did a lot of that. And, I mean, she's cute as hell, right? So I totally thought maybe someday we'd go out or something, test the waters beyond friendship, whatever..." Warren huffed and buried his face in the pillow again for a second, wings ruffling in annoyance. He was clearly not done with the story, but needed a minute.

Because basically he felt like a major dick.

Flirting. Yeah, they were definitely beyond the realm of Scott's extremely limited romantic expertise. "Okay."

Warren turned his face to the side again, taking a deep breath to prepare. "So, I mean, first off, am I an asshole for not checking on her last night, after they got back from the museum thing? I just kinda figured--that was intense right? She probably needed a minute. I'd want a minute."

But now, Warren was second guessing himself, wondering if that was weird. That was just... how things worked in his family. Shit hit the fan, everyone ignored it for 12 hours at minimum, and next morning over Bloody Marys and eggs you asked how things were--and/or responded that everything was fucking peachy.

Was that not... how people did things? Was it another Worthington weird thing? Or was it really just respecting people's space, like he'd thought?

Scott was silent for a long moment. Not because he wasn't gong to answer Warren's question, but because he wanted to answer it thoughtfully. Emotion-based discussions weren't necessarily his best skill, but Warren seemed to be hurting and he really was a good guy. Even if he had been raised by the real-life versions of the Monopoly Man.

"I mean...it depends, right? If you actually knew what she would want, and didn't do it? Then you'd be an asshole. But if you didn't know, and you were just doing your best based on everything you knew, and were doing it for what you thought was her benefit," since she was one of the traumatized parties, "even if you're wrong, I don't know that you'd be an asshole.

"I'd want the space. Personally."

"Okay," Warren said. He didn't feel a whole lot better, but at least he knew he wasn't asking her to forgive something god-awful or whatever. He pushed himself up onto his knees, then off the bed. He grabbed his desk stool and rolled it over next to Scott's bed, then plopped on it. "So here's where it gets kind of weird. Or--really weird. Maybe I'm overreacting."

And he told Scott the entire story of Tamara reacting to the hickeys, sans any emotional commentary from himself. Scott was smart, logical, and kind of a dick. Warren, on the other hand... was thinking with his dick. He needed clarity.

"Okay, so.....let me see if I understood this right," Scott said slowly. "You went there to check on her. She was mad at you because you didn't check on her last night. I mean, I guess that's one of those to each-their-own things, right? And then she....got really bent out of shape over you having Jean-Paul's suckerbites."

He paused, and figured out how he wanted to phrase what came next, because Scott was very much aware that he had not heard Tamara's side of the story, and was not likely to. (Fuck, please no.) "And you have never gone on a date with her, never kissed her, never had an exclusive thing whatever. And then she seemed more okay when she found out the vampire marks were from a guy?

"Worthington . . . something here is not right. Maybe I don't know enough about what was going on, but if that's how it all happened...this sounds wrong."

"Yeah, when you say it like that..." Warren ruffled his wings and ran both hands through his hair. "It felt off to me, but I wasn't sure why. She's like insisting she isn't jealous but what else is that? And what happens next time I go out with someone? And what if it's a girl? And why does it matter?"

"It shouldn't." At least, to Scott's mind. "And if it does matter, that's...weird, to me. I mean, it might not be jealousy, it might just be disappointment or even, I don't know....maybe she had expectations and she feels betrayed or some shit."

He didn't know Tamara well, or barely at all, really. "But yeah. This is weird."

"I mean, she's right about cutting her a break," Warren conceded. "That protest shit was a dumpster fire.

"But yeah. Even taking that into consideration I feel like... it's pure thinking with my dick if I keep up with the flirting." He frowned. "Or is that chicken shit?"

"If you aren't going to want to be more? Yeah, you shouldn't lead her on." Scott agreed.

"Well if you'd asked me yesterday I'd have said I'd be open to more," Warren admitted. "But I'm... not sure now. I mean, if I'm already disappointing her before we're even a thing..." That was a blow to the pride, actually. Not jealousy, but disappointment? Way more his fault than he'd thought even. Shit.

Scott looked at Warren like he might be just a little bit stupid. Or a lot stupid. It could sometimes be hard to tell because of the glasses. "Disappointed that you're not going on dates with her, Worthington, not disappointed in you as a human being or a guy or whatever."

"Well, yeah..." Warren still frowned though, looking thoughtful. "But if she thinks that's a thing I should've known--that we should be dating or whatever--and I obviously didn't, that's not a great sign?" And yet, he didn't sound convinced.

"You can't actually think dating is something I have significant experience with," Scott said dryly.

"It's not about that," Warren insisted. "I mean, I'm asking you because you're smart and you cut through bullshit. Like, if this was you, what would you do?

"Not that I will, but just, like, as an example."

Scott looked skeptical. "If it was me," he pointed out, "I wouldn't have been flirting with multiple classmates. Since that plane has left the runway, though....

"Look. If it was me, I'd let it go, about her, and move on. Something here just doesn't smell right." Logic was Scott's savior, but there was a time and place for gut instincts, too. That's what had kept their ancestors alive ,and sometimes it was worth falling back on. "But if you're not going to go that way, then maybe be really upfront about what it is you do want? Whatever the hell that is."

Warren looked at Scott like he was crazy about not flirting with more than one person--how even was that a thing? Except... Scott. Right.

He nodded, ruffling his feathers thoughtfully. "I think you're right. It would be smart to walk away. Except I do like her--and want to keep her as a friend. Which... I don't know how she'll take that. Ugh. Yeah I just have to be honest with her. Not normal honest, but totally."

"I'd lead with that." Scott said, voice dry.

Warren made a face, but in truth he knew Scott was right and he appreciated it. "But basically, I shouldn't date her. So I should stop flirting. That's... what I'm saying?"

Scott shrugged. "Or at least be upfront that it's not meant to lead to anything." Since apparently 'don't hit on everyone' wasn't a primary play in Warren's book.

"Right, but what if I decide I want it to lead to something with... someone else?" Warren sighed. "I mean, I'm not saying I wanna marry Jean-Paul after one date, but what if... we, or me and someone else, become a thing? Like, is she like this all the time, or was it just because she had such a fucked up day yesterday, or what?

"No, I mean, I know you can't know that. I'm just thinking aloud."

"That's good. I think I used up my allotment of words for today." Scott spun back around to lean against his pillow.

Warren chuckled, flushing slightly but not moving away from Scott's bed. "You spent them on me? I'm flattered."

Scott reached up and over to lace his fingers together and rest them behind his head. "Don't get used to it. I might have to use them up in class or something one day."

"Fair." Warren stood. The most annoying thing, as it turned out, wasn't that Scott was a dick. It was that sometimes when he was being a dick, it was weirdly hot.

Been down that roommate crush road. Have the scars to prove it. Nope.

"Thanks though, seriously. My head feels less tangled up."

Scott shrugged, looking so uncomfortable that one might almost think he'd never been thanked before. "I don't know how much I really helped, but no problem. Hope it works out okay."

Warren made a mental note to thank Scott more often. "You and me both, my friend."