ax_main | Caleb and Cal, and later Clint

Caleb and Cal are their usual antisocial selves at the party. Complete with the utter cuteness of Caleb and Clint being drunk.

Cal had mostly been walking around as a wolf, since parting ways with Caleb and Clint a little while back. He hadn't really talked to anyone yet, and it was a testament to how used to weirdness Xavier's students were that nobody seemed to question the presence of a large blue-eyed black wolf among them.

Which was just fine by him.

He spotted Caleb leaning back against a wall, on his own, and headed that way, nosing at his hand when he reached him.

Caleb looked down at the nudge and smiled. “Hello.” He buried his hand in Cal’s thick fur, giving it a good scratch. “I hope you are here because you are bored, because I don’t have any treats.”

Cal scoffed at the thought, which worked fairly well in wolf form. He could get behind a lot of things to do with being a dog (or a wolf), but the food was not one of them. The scratching, however? Totally. Not from everyone, though, and he didn't want anyone to get ideas, seeing them, so he stepped away and shifted back into himself, in a Bigby-style suit and tie. (With his hair, he probably looked more like a Constantine, but whatever. He wasn't making himself a brunette for this.)

Then he came closer again, leaning back on the patch of wall right beside Caleb, and gave him a small smile, hands in his pockets. "Treats still seem disgusting, thanks.”

“Well, there goes the bag of Beggin’ Strips I got you for your birthday,” Caleb joked.

"Damn," Cal deadpanned. He wondered, idly, whether Caleb knew when his birthday was. He hoped he didn't; the thought of people making it a thing, even Caleb and Clint, sat ill with him. He wasn't sure why, and now wasn't the time for introspection. He had sessions with Xavier for that. "How's it going? Enjoying the party?"

Caleb wasn’t not enjoying the party, which he supposed was something. “It is fine. I had a drink,” he said, though it would be more accurate to say he had drinks plural as he held up his half-empty cup. “You?”

"I'm still here after thirty minutes," Cal replied easily. "That's, you know, progress?" He couldn't say he was exactly enjoying it, but still. Progress. Last time he'd lasted twenty minutes, and he wasn't feeling overwhelmed yet.

“It is,” Caleb agreed and, giving Cal a smile, he bumped their shoulders against one another. “Good progress."

Cal looked over at Caleb, surprised by the gesture, but not unpleasantly so. And when he saw Caleb smiling at him, he could only smirk back. "Yeah, sure. I kinda wish I could take the edge off, though." It seemed to be working out for Caleb, but with Pam here... No fucking way.

A small frown wrinkled Caleb’s brow, and he looked over at Cal, thinly veiled concern in his eyes. He wanted to tell Cal that he could if he wanted to, that it was alright unwind because his friends were here and they would have his back, but he knew it wasn’t that easy for Cal. They all had things they couldn’t get past—Couldn’t ignore or turn off even if they tried.

“I will make a deal with you?” Caleb asked. “As soon as you are done with this party, you come find me and we will steal a bottle of tequila and drink it back in my room while we watch scary movies. I will do the same.”

In his room also meant with the alarm up, and Cal nodded. "We can have drinking games. But shit, don't let me go to sleep without mimicking Clint again." One time had been enough. There was no point being hungover when you could avoid it.

Caleb started to extend a hand for Cal to shake on it, realized that it was the one Frumpkin was perched on, and then offered him the other.

Cal liked how much more at ease they were with touch - with each other, anyway. He liked to think that Loki's mutation had been a boon to more than just him, and time spent as a panther, curled up with Caleb (and the kids), had helped the two of them get there. He smirked at his friend, and reached out to shake his hand.

“It’s a deal,” Caleb said, smiling at Cal as they shook hands.

Giving Frumpkin’s feathered breast a scritch, Caleb settled back against the wall. Feathers were far smoother and softer than he’d realized, but he still preferred Frumpkin’s bright orange fur to them even if it was a bit scratchier. “See anyone you recognize?”

"Are we talking people, or costumes?" Cal asked with a half smile, leaning back beside Caleb and holding a hand up to Frumpkin, before sliding the back of his fingers over his feathers. So weird - and awesome - to know that this was still him. ...thought the shapeshifter.

Frumpkin made a happy, chirp kind of sound and leaned into the pet.

“Either? Both?” Caleb offered, watching his friend and his former-cat-turned-bird with a smile. He’d meant the first, but he’d take the second.

Was a hawk supposed to be cute? Because fuck it, Frumpkin totally was. Cal gave him a couple more strokes, then had a look around the crowd. "A bunch. From classes, mostly. And Loki's over there," he added, with a nod in the direction of the Asgardian's take on Little Red Riding Hood.

Caleb’s brow furrowed at Loki. Was he supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood? “Did you plan your costumes together?”

"I mentioned I'd wolf it out," Cal answered, with a bit of a smirk. "I didn't know what he was gonna show up as.”

Caleb didn’t know Loki very well, but he still somehow knew that sounded exactly like something he’d do. “You both look good.”

"Add Clint to the mix and we're a set," Cal added. His gaze landed on Betsy dancing with Warren, and stayed there for a moment. Should he keep listing people he recognized? Somehow it would feel weird to point her out.

Fuck, Cal hated being so awkward about everything.

“I turn into a wolf at night,” Caleb felt the sudden urge to share. “Navarre, I mean. My costume.”

"Does he?" Cal asked with a chuckle. "We match too, then.”

Caleb had no idea why that made him so happy. “We do.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was 9:12pm. Caleb knew what time it was because he always knew what time it was. The party was better than he’d expected, and now he was warm and loose and felt a little bit like he was floating. Alcohol was possibly one of the greatest inventions ever. It quieted his brain.

Caleb moved Frumpkin to his shoulder who flapped his feathers at the less-than-graceful movement. “Alright, Frumpkin? I think maybe we should go find a seat somewhere.”

Before they could go and do any such thing, a massive black wolf walked up to them and nosed at Caleb's hand in a manner that was, somehow, needy. I think I'm done here, Cal projected to Caleb, trying to sound calm and collected, but some of his unease projected along with the thought.

Blinking in surprise, Caleb looked down to see what cold nose was nudging at his hand. “Oh. Okay, puppy.” He gave the huge wolf a pat on the head with a fond, definitely inebriated smile. “I will get the drinks, and meet you by the door. Go with him, Frumpkin.” The hawk down flapped down to the floor.

Caleb went over to the snacks table and quickly grabbed an unopened bottle of tequila, sticking it under his arm beneath his cloak. He considered the table a moment, then stole an unopened bag of assorted candy too. It was Halloween, and Halloween called for candy. Both safely hidden beneath his cloak, he went to meet Cal.

Cal bent his front paws to hint to Frumpkin that he should hop on, then trotted over to the door in question with the hawk safely on his back. He shifted back into his human form as Caleb came to find them in the hallway just out of the gym. "Thanks," he told Caleb quietly, as they turned towards the stairs. He wasn't sure where Clint was. But since Illyana was here, he assumed that Wanda would show up at some point, and he didn't want to intrude on that. No telepathic messaging; he'd text him, instead.

“You don’t have to thank me. We had a deal,” Caleb said simply, and he passed the bag of candy to Cal, but left the tequila bottle concealed under his arm for now. “It is not candy without Halloween.”

Cal shot his friend a small amused smile as he grabbed the candy. "I'm so behind on my buzz.”

“I have the solution for that right here,” Caleb said, patting the hidden tequila bottle.

Instead of replying anything to that, Cal just created a bright pink portal ahead of them, through which Caleb and Clint's room could be seen. He murmured, "Okay," under his breath before stepping through, and only seemed to really start to relax once he could close the portal behind them.

Of course, he immediately created another one, to his room, banking on Abs's inability to leave a portal alone. In fact, Cal had barely called for her that she was through the thing, and greeting them both excitedly. "Oh yeah, girl, you missed us, didn't you?" Cal fussed with her for a few moments, parking his ass on the end of Clint's bed and honestly just basking in the fact that the pressure was slowly easing up on his lungs.

Caleb, who had been giving pets to a wriggling Lucky, gave Ab’s hand a good rub behind the ears, as Frumpkin, still perched on Cal’s shoulder, let out a shrill sort of call. He flapped down to the ground, and butt his head against Ab’s leg.

“I’ll fix you, Frumpkin.” Caleb put the alcohol on the desk and plopped down, somewhat ungainly, onto the floor to put himself closer to eye-level the with bird. He started to move his hands, fumbled, stopped with a frown, then started all over again, more slowly this time. When he finished, there was a shimmer around Frumpkin and, instead of a hawk, he was a tabby cat again.

"Hey, buddy," Cal greeted the cat, holding his hand out to him invitingly. "How was being able to fly?”

Frumpkin rubbed his cheek against Cal’s hand.

“He prefers being a cat,” Caleb answered, tilting his head to look up at Cal.

"Cat's pretty fucking awesome," Cal confirmed, scratching Frumpkin's jaw dutifully. "But flying is sweet, too, right?”

Purring, Frumpkin leaned into the scratches.

“I think I would like to fly someday.” Caleb pushed himself to his feet just as clumsily as he’d sat down, then searched the room for cups. He did not have to go far, their were empty coffee mugs all over the place, and he returned with two of them—One a bright purple, the other with a grumpy-looking cat on it.

"That's it, buddy," Cal murmured to the cat, happily giving him all the scratches he wanted.

Until a jealous Abs butted in for her share of petting, anyway, and Cal chuckled, and obliged her, sliding down to the floor to be level with her. "Yeah? It really is awesome," Cal said, looking over at Caleb. "It'd be even more awesome with you along.”

Caleb beamed at the compliment. “I think it would be even more awesome with you along too.”

Grabbing the tequila, Caleb sat down on the floor beside Cal, their thighs brushing, a sure sign that he was comfortably buzzed if everything else thus far hadn’t been a glaring indicator. He uncapped the bottle and poured them both a drink. “Here,” he said, offering out the kitty mug.

"Thanks," Cal answered, but didn't drink just yet. "You set the alarm?" It was stupid, really; unless they passed out, the alarm wouldn't be much use, but it felt a little less vulnerable, dropping the healing with the alarm up.

“It’s always up. I recast the spell every day.” It was almost like a ritual for Caleb. He felt safer knowing that if anyone other than the people the spell allowed went into the room he’d sense it immediately.

"You are fucking perfect," Cal said, with feeling. He took a deep, steady breath, then let go of Clint's healing, and took a first drink of the tequila. Then he reached for his phone to text their absent friend with where they were, and what they were getting up to.

That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to Caleb. It wasn’t anywhere close to true at all, but hearing it still made him feel all warm inside. Smiling, he leaned back against the bed frame and took a nice, big gulp of his tequila. His face scrunched up at the taste, but it didn’t stop him from taking another drink.

“Did you have fun at the party?” Caleb asked.

"Sure," Cal answered, more because it was the expected answer than anything else. But it was Caleb, and so he added, more truthfully, "Some of it was okay." And he wasn't going to think about the stuff that had made his skin feel like it fit wrong. "How was the Clue game thing?" He'd watched him and Clint play it from afar.

“Easy, but it was fun,” Caleb said, patting Frumpkin’s head as he curled up on his lap. He smiled, a bit of laugh escaping. “Clint spent the whole time in character. That was funny.”

"Clue character, or was he out to kill some wolves?" Cal asked with raised eyebrows, and an amused expression.

Caleb swallowed a mouthful of tequila and answered, “Clue character. Ms. Hemmingway, the baker. Her loaves are thick and plump and smell lovely and fresh.”

"What?" Cal managed, incredulous and clearly tickled, lips curving up into a smile. He started laughing. "Seriously?"

Right about then, Cal's phone buzzed with a text from 'Ms. Hemmingway', bugging him for a portal back to the room.

Cal was still laughing as he typed back, Right away, Ms. Hemmingway. "I guess Wanda isn't around? Clint wants a portal, give me a sec," he added, for Caleb's benefit, and went quiet as he looked for Clint's psi signature. Once he'd located him, Cal grabbed a hold of Abs's collar so she wouldn't go through, and opened a portal to Clint in the middle of the room.

Caleb waved at Clint through the portal. “Hello, Clint!” he called. “We have candy!”

It was an odd image, Clint dressed as a lumberjack/hunter sashaying through one of Cal's portals like a busty old woman, his hips swinging from side to side. "Well, I say, I certainly deserve some of those spoils!"

And then he was promptly tackled by a one-eyed golden retriever, tumbling to the ground with his face licked clean. He might not have been entirely sober.

Shit, Cal was even more behind than he had realized. He knocked back the rest of his tequila, and reached for the bottle to pour himself some more, a smile playing on his lips at the display of unruly affection between Clint and Lucky. Abs was looking at him hopefully, and he told her, "Go," at which point she darted over to join the fun.

Caleb smiled at the rough-housing while Frumpkin glanced back at him as if to say so immature in the most cat-like look of disdain possible.

Clint was quickly buried beneath two rambunctious dogs, laughing and wrestling and rolling around like a moron. He managed to kick one of the bedside tables over, a lamp crashing to the ground, but he continued to hiccup laughter. Maybe even more than he had been before.

Cal winced a little as the lamp crashed, but he made no move to put a stop to anything, happy to watch and smile, leaning his shoulder against Caleb's as he relaxed further.

Caleb didn’t get a chance to enjoy the rarely given affection. Worried about little paws and broken glass, he was already shooing Frumpkin off his lap and ungracefully lurching to his feet. He went over to the broken lamp and, with a frown of concentration, waved his hand over it.

Shards of glass big and small rolled across the floor toward one another, gathering back together into the shape of a lightbulb. Light glowed along the cracks, then dissipated, leaving behind a whole, unbroken bulb. He made his way back over to where he'd been sitting and plopped back down.

Clint, where he was laying on the floor, just watched the spectacle in awe, nudging both pups off of him in the process. When he finally sat up, it was almost as though he had hearts in his eyes. "That. Was so. Cool."

Cal, while he was not drunkenly enamored with the spectacle, was still genuinely admiring, and wholeheartedly agreed with Clint's assessment. "Totally. You are so cool," he added, smiling over at Caleb. He wasn't moving from his spot on the floor, his back to the bed, as he looked over at Clint. "Wanda not around?" He took a sip of tequila, gaze dragged down to Abs and Lucky as they kept on greeting each other very enthusiastically.

Caleb bowed where he sat. “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week. For my next trick, I will make this tequila disappear!” He downed the contents of his mug, then held his arms over his head in victory as if he’d just scored a touchdown.

Clint was almost as impressed with that trick, and glanced at Cal curiously. "Are you both this wasted?"

"I just got started," Cal answered with a shake of his head. He wasn't sure if Clint had deliberately not answered his question or just forgotten about it, and it didn't much matter, in the end. Cal figured she wasn't around, or Clint wouldn't have been so quick to join them.

Cal turned to Caleb beside him. "I don't know if I should give you more," he told him with a half smile. "You'll just make it disappear again, and I'll never catch up."

“I am not wasted. I am—” Caleb made an a-okay sign with his hand. He held out his mug for a refill.

"Well you'd better give me some even if you don't give him any," Clint grinned, moving to sit with his back against his bed as he ruffled Lucky's ears.

Cal grabbed Caleb's mug to fill it, asking him, "Do you have a third one of those?" He handed the mug over to Clint beside him, with a smirk that dared Caleb to protest that, then topped up his own drink. He was on a mission to catch up, okay?

Caleb gave Cal a look of betrayal. He had stolen that tequila fair and square! “That has my germs on it,” he informed Clint, then staggered onto his feet yet again to find another mug. It wouldn’t be a difficult search. He and Clint were far from neat, and more than a few mugs, some still half-full with cold coffee, littered their desks and shelves.

"Yeah. Germs," Clint grinned up at his roommate, taking a deep swallow. Oh yeah. That was a good burn. "Like those are real."

"Fuck science," Cal agreed, after taking a drink. Look at him, resolutely not thinking about his father. "You've got magic."

Disturbed, Caleb stared at his friends. “I am very concerned about both of you.” He picked a mug up off his desk and returned to his spot, immediately holding it out to Cal to be filled. “Please.”

Cal grinned, and poured some tequila into Caleb's mug. "We're totally not deserving of concern. We're awesome."