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Great... dim your headlights when you get here?
I'm trying this new espionage vibe when I get picked up by guys.

[Even Kevin thought that sounded kind of ridiculous but he was more than happy to be getting picked up and taken somewhere. Especially when it came to being taken somewhere by someone who wasn't a guy on the football team too afraid to take him to an actual public location. Or better yet, Joaquin who just ended up rendering the two of them the talk of the town when the Sheriff's son stepped out with a known gang member.

He sat on his porch, waiting for a car to arrive, fucking about on his phone in a way that didn't draw too much attention while he waited for Felix to arrive.]

So no blasting hollaback girl either im guessing.
you're screwing up my vibe, dude.

[In spite of the text, Felix did have his radio turned down and his lights off as his sleek black 1978 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am gently pulled up in front of Kevin's house, windows open to account for the heat that had yet to bleed off from the earlier day even as everything had gone dark.

He even put out his cigarette as he leaned over and unlocked the passenger door for Kevin, giving it a shove to open it for him. It was about as gentlemanly as Felix got.]

Beep beep, c'mon, my hangover demands a burger.

[Kevin was grinning as the car pulled towards his house. It was such a bad boy's car that he was for once glad he didn't live on the same street as the Cooper's. Betty's mom would be having a field day telling his dad all about the particular make and model of vehicle that'd pulled up outside the Keller house that night.

He moves quickly over to the vehicle and dives in, pulling the door closed behind him as he turns to Felix with a smile.] Sorry for killing your vibe, I promise you can go right back to being whoever you want the moment the house is out of the rear view mirror.

You say the sweetest things, Sugarbee.

[Felix has a way of saying that where it doesn't even sound the least bit sarcastic. He's also moving as soon as Kevin's ass hits the seat, trusting him to get the door closed and his seat belt on in a reasonable amount of time.

Look, he's not even gunning it at 80 through a residential area. Positively gentlemanly.]

How about you, got worries about being yourself before dear old dad's place is in the rearview mirror?

[Felix will never ever get on Kevin's case about any annoyance with anything related to his father, considering as far as Felix is concerned his own is Satan incarnate for vague non-specific reasons given.]

Maybe that's why you call me Sugarbee, sweet things. [He rolls his eyes because the term of endearment was something cute, at least. He settles back in the chair, watching Felix rather than the road.]

[Kevin eyes him at the question.] Hey... I'm still myself around my dad. I just don't want him thinking I'm some kind of delinquent. [He felt bad though because realistically speaking, he hid a lot from his dad. If it wasn't his sexuality it was the activities he got up to most nights with Betty and the gang. His involvement in things these days was a lot heavier than he let on.]

[Everyone gets a nickname from Felix. He seems determined to never refer to people by their real names, like some weird reverse demon that would lose his power if he acknowledged someone else's true name rather than gave away his own.

He turns the lights on as soon as their out of view of Kevin's house, turns the radio back on. The playlist has played on, volume coming back up to the beginning of Queen's 'Brighton Rock'.]

You are positively Pleasantville, Sugarbee. Any parent should be fucking delighted to have you.

Pleasantville? You make me sound like a Stepford Wife... [Really the use of Pleasantville as an adjective had him thinking of Betty's mom and that idea was particularly scary.]

I'll make sure I tell my dad about your recommendation though. [He probably wouldn't. Because his dad was obsessed with the idea of him finding a nice boy and based on Felix's car alone his dad would probably disagree. Muscle cars held too much potential in t hat regard.]

Please tell me you're getting out of here for college. You're too good for suburbia or you will end up some impotent bland milk toast of a man's Stepford wife.

[Felix eyed the little houses behind his mirror shades.

He didn't trust suburbia.]

Of course I'm getting out of here for college. [He was half tempted to smack Felix at the suggestion he might do otherwise.] And stop insulting suburbia... Riverdale is a perfectly nice place. [Said in such a way that indicates even Kevin isn't sure if that's true anymore.]

[His eyes are still masked by the mirror shades, but the tip of one eyebrow can just barely be seen giving Kevin an impressive rise over the edge before his attention turns back to the road.]

Okay, ignoring the whole body in the river thing for a minute here, because I'm generous - Suburbia is fucked, man.

[Buckle in for a rant, Kevin.]

At least in the city, sure, cousin Martin got arrested for possession but everyone knows he did. You send him a Christmas card and put money in his commissary account while you wait for him to get released and probably get picked up again. There's no hiding it - you can't, not crammed so close together, so people mostly stop trying.

Now, suburbia, everyone fucking touts the little boxes on the hillside as the perfect Peyton Place but you get just as many drug addicts, criminals, you name it, they're just all behind the scenes and you never know who it's gonna be until Mama comes to get you from school because Daddy just got busted for having fifteen bodies in the basement of kids that went missing who look just like you and you don't want to know what he did to them.

[That's when he thankfully pulls into the diner parking lot, throwing the car into park and pulling up the emergency break. He tosses his shades onto the dashboard and gives Kevin a very serious look.]

I don't fucking trust suburbia, man. I like my sharks to keep their teeth in a more obvious place.

[Kevin sits by and listens to Felix's rant about the merits of Suburbia and truthfully speaking, the other boy had a lot of really fair points. By the time he's finished Kevin is actually sporting a smile and nodding along with the discussion.] I mean you technically just described half the stuff that happens here... I mean... the thing about fifteen bodies is really creepy and I hope you heard about that in a T.V. show or something and it isn't something you just made up because I'd wanna pass you the number of a therapist.

[Kevin reaches up though, palms out in a peace gesture.] Hey, I'll keep my teeth exactly where you tell me to, you're not gonna have the suburbia problem with me.

[That gets a grin.]

Well, you need anyone to help you hide a body, this ain't my first rodeo.

[Is he joking? Is he serious? Felix has a way of saying these things with a perfectly straight face.]

Come on, Sugarbee. Made some good money, I'll get your dinner along with a milkshake if you want.

[Good money meaning in a street race, his main source of income it seems like. Though he's perfectly happy to race for bragging rights and/or the pure fun of it.]

I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that because there was this whole part earlier where I said I kinda didn't want to be involved in a lot of criminal activities tonight. [He grins though because he wasn't being serious; working under the proviso at least that Felix himself wasn't being serious about hiding bodies.]

Should I even ask? [He meant about how Felix made his money but really, who didn't want to get treated to milkshakes.] Wait, never mind... I didn't bring my wallet anyway.

I could have a job.

[He doesn't.]

You don't know that I don't.

[It's not exactly a secret.]

Bad idea to forget your wallet. Never know when you might need to flee the country in a rush.

[Felix heads on in and grabs a table, sliding into the booth. This place is so goddamn retro. Like no one's touched it since the fifties. Hella aesthetic.]

Saying I could have a job instead of I have a job is a pretty strong indication that you don't have a job. [Kevin rolls his eyes though, taking it all in good humour.]

I'm feeling pretty optimistic when I say I won't need to flee the country tonight. [Except he eyes Felix a little wearily because he didn't want to know what thoughts ran through the other boy's head if he thought that fleeing the country was the kind of thing you did at the drop of a hat.]

[Felix smiles innocently at the weary look. Or he tries for innocent. Theoretically he was innocent at some point in his life.]

Goodluck and godspeed then. Better to always be prepared though.

[Kevin rolls his eyes but he's smiling happily as they cross over to a booth and he slides in.] There's prepared and then there's a guy offered to buy me a milkshake and dinner so I really don't need my wallet.

This is probably the dumbest thing that he's done in a long time, but oh well. As instructed, Leo finds the address and walks right in, pulling the door shut behind him. "Hey," he calls, eyes seeking out the couch, and it's clear that he's a combination of incredibly amused and just slightly wary. "I brought like, the entire convenience store, so." To his credit, the backpack hanging off one shoulder does look like it's holding ten or twelve pounds of drinks, easily.

Drew wasn't really all that surprised when his door opens, his sharp senses had at least picked out the sound of footsteps approaching amidst the general buzz of being too high to live in that moment. He blinks a couple of times as the stranger walks into his home before whistling in appreciation. "Well shit, man... shoulda mentioned y'were cute. I'd have cleaned up a little." Which is a lie, but at least the apartment didn't look like it was about to be featured on next week's Extreme Hoarders. "C'mere so I can drink you... or at least, drink somethin' in that bag of yours."

Leo can't help it: he laughs out loud at Drew's greeting, swinging his bag over to the front to unzip one of the pockets as he approaches. "Thought you were glued to the couch," he says good-naturedly, before he crouches down next to the other boy, offering out a bottle of water. "You need a straw, buddy?"

"I am glued to the couch. That part where I said I'd've cleaned up? Total lie meant to make me feel better about the sorry state of my apartment." His eyes were red but there was an almost permanent grin on his features. "Y'could just pour the whole thing over my face if y'wanted... like... a more helpful kinda waterboarding." Which was a truly ridiculous statement for him to be making that he should</> take right back.

And Leo just cracks up. He can't help it: he cracks the top of the bottle and, wordlessly, begins to slowly pour it onto Drew's face.

Drew lets out a long sigh of happiness as water starts to land on his face, opening his mouth and leaning backwards in what, visibly speaking, looking like an attempt to drown himself. When the water stops flowing though he smacks his lips a couple times and reaches up to wipe water from his face, ignoring the way it soaked his couch. "I'm in heaven... this is heaven... I don't have to die in the dry, fiery pits of hell anymore. You! You are my saviour."

Leo snorts when Drew actually seems to embrace the way the water is pouring onto his face. He wasn't sure what sort of reaction he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that, and he slides the rest of the bottle onto the coffee table. "Dramatic," he mutters, before unzipping another pocket on the backpack. "Brought gatorade and snacks, too. Expecting just a million free drinks the next time I'm in the bar, though."

"Hey y'can get two million free drinks!" Which wasn't even Drew's place to be claiming to begin with. It wasn't like he owned the place or anything. "You're like... a little angel. C'mere... sit down, lemme see you." Except he was still now rubbing the water out of his eyes because it did go everywhere. "An' it ain't dramatic, screw you."

He perches himself on the arm of the couch, leaning forward to drop a bag of chips onto Drew's stomach. "I'm gonna get that in writing before I go," he says, trying his hardest to seem Very Serious right now. It's only partially working- his shoulders are trembling a little bit with barely suppressed laughter.

Drew doesn't even immediately reach for the chips, mostly because of the Sahara that'd been occurring in his mouth the idea of actively chewing on things right now sounded pretty difficult. "Hey what makes y'think I can write, you're just gonna have to trust me sugar. Promise, I'm a good man." Except he could write, he just wasn't about to pick up a pen unless it was to doodle on the other boy.

"A good, illiterate man, huh," Leo says, but he's clearly amused beyond words right now. "You good, buddy? You gonna survive now?" He doesn't want to linger too long, especially not if this guy doesn't want him around, but he wants to make sure he's actually going to be alright first.

"Okay yeah that part was a lie, I can totally write... I just try to avoid it a lot of the time." When it sounds like Leo is making his excuses to leave though Drew turns to him with big, puppy dog eyes. "Wait wait, y'tryin'a leave? What if I die or somethin'... y'could totally stick around for a while, keep me company?" Which in Drew's world was probably one hell of a loaded invitation.

"You are stoned off your ass, dude," Leo says, unable to help the bubble of laughter that comes up through his words. "You shouldn't be inviting strangers to hang out with you." But he hesitates, then reaches down to card his fingers through Drew's hair in a way that he hopes is soothing. "But alright. I can chill here for a little while."

Drew just laughs loudly. "I invite strangers into my place all the time... y'should see the amount of guys that've come back here after a hard night's drinkin' at the bar just 'cause I live 'round the block." Which was true and he really shouldn't be so open about it. "Besides, you're too cute to try an' kill someone... an' somethin' tells me you'd have a hard time killin' little ol' me."

"Sounds pretty convenient, if that's the kind of thing you're into." Which isn't him casting shade at all. He's honestly more amused than anything else at this point, and he gives the tip of Drew's nose a gentle little tweak. "And you don't know me, dude. I might be an actual sneak badass. Maybe I'm a judo master."

Drew shrugs slow and deliberate, his mouth widening in a grin. "I don't care if you're a judo master, I'm a stoned werewolf... I'll just bite off your hands and eat them. Its like the creepier version of lil' red ridin' hood." He wouldn't think of doing that, either. "Or we could just snuggle, I mean, why y'gotta worry 'bout the danger?"

That gives Leo's hand pause. Not that he's really bothered or frightened - just a little surprised. He gives a gentle tug on a lock of hair. "Back up, buddy. You seriously a werewolf?"

"Sure am, c'mere an' I'll blow your house down." He grins though and there is something distinctly wolfish in the expression.

"Gotta say you're not really giving me a compelling reason to go anywhere." Leo is half amused, half just completely baffled. "Doesn't politeness dictate that you disclose that kind of thing before you invite someone into your home?"

"Yeah but if I went ahead an' told ya I wasa werewolf y'might not have come an' brought me soda..." And that was the biggest problem here, he wanted his soda after all. "An' stick around then, I'll give you a reason to stay. Complete with huffin', puffin' and blowin'."

"Uh huh. No offense, buddy, but you don't look like you're gonna be huffin' and puffin' anytime soon. Maybe 'snoozin' and snorin'.'" His hand sinks back into Drew's hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp.

"You'd be surprised... I'm like an all seasons kinda huff 'n' puffer." He grins, shifting on the sofa slightly, humming a little at fingers scratching at his scalp. "Y'got nice hands, glad you're stayin'... maybe I won't eat 'em after all."

"So is this the kind of thing you do often?" It's said with an amused sort of murmur, and he settles in on the arm of the sofa, looking down at Drew. "The whole 'getting debilitatingly stoned' thing."

Drew just starts cackling. "I thought y'were askin' 'bout whether or not I let strangers into my house a lot, sounded like one hell of a shitty pick up line... but uh, yeah, the answer's yeah to both of those."

"Jesus, dude," he says, but he's laughing as he does. "I'm gonna call all my friends. Have a party at your place while you're sacked out." Spoilers: he doesn't really have many of those, whatever.

Drew just grins at the idea. "Not like there's anythin' here worth stealin' man... as long as they bring snacks I'll be pretty chill 'bout the whole thing. Sometimes half the pack come here for sleepovers an' crap. Half the laundry ain't even mine."

"So you're part of a pack?" He can't help it - the curiosity that sort of comes with the territory here. "Didn't know we had any of those in town."

gen open;

>hellride

\m/

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>willinglychanged

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i missed this notif, i'm sorry!

don't worry about it i've been awol rp-wise

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