Wouldn't you? Look at it, Nathan, I mean... [ she gestures over to the bar where Matt is gathering the drinks and leaning over cooler, acting like he's a piece of meat. ]
Oh smile, you got a free drink out of it and something nice to look at.
[Nate has to try so hard not to roll his eyes at Lucy's comment. He reminds himself that this is his friend. It's okay if she has terrible taste in men.
Oh art. Okay is that what all this is about? This whole moody look? Is that your aesthetic or some shit like that?
[ Matt looks up and down him, as if trying to get the measure of him. And really, it's not anything he wears that makes him question it, just his apparent attitude. ]
[ The thin veil of amusement seems to fade away a little now, and his back straightens slightly. ]
Guys like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don't know anything about me. Go on, what am I like? Seeing as you apparently know me so much.
[ That next comment earns a scoff. ] Oh I am not your fucking sweetheart. [ There are words in his head, things to call him, but he's not about to use any of those slurs. ]
How about you drink your drink and stop trying to be one of the big boys.
[ Lucy no longer finds this amusing. She shifts a bit and grabs at her bag. ] Yeah we should probably. I'll call you okay? [ She looks to Matt, but she's still grabbing her stuff and making to move, her and Nate leaving as quick af tbh ]
~~~
[ It's some unspecified amount of time later (idk), on a Saturday morning and Matt is in the communal kitchen. He's short on cash, nobody at home helps and his wages seem to go nowhere. But he managed enough for a loaf of bread, so he's standing in jogger bottoms and a battered old top, making himself a bit of toast and 'borrowing' the butter and jam of whoever it is that left some in the fridge.
[Somehow, they didn't realize this before. Nate goes to bed fairly early and Matt is a night owl because of his job. They've never crossed paths in the halls until this very moment.
Which is bad enough, but also Nate recognizes that jam label.]
[ He looks down and feels sort of guilty. He'd have asked if he knew, and it's fucking typical that it had to be him. But he's not about to g et all apologetic when the guy is being a knob. He's far too hot headed for that. ]
Oh phone the police, someone took some jam. I don't see your name on it.
[ Matt makes an obvious shove of the jam across the counter, and proceeds to eat his toast without it (though with the butter he's already stolen, obv). He gives him a look. ]
Probably because I live here then isn't it, genuis? Room 6E. [ Aka the room you probably heard sex coming from that time. Or more times. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Oh smile, you got a free drink out of it and something nice to look at.
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[ She shoots a grin at him, as lo' Matt returns with drinks in tow, the beer for Nate and a fancy smanchy looking cocktail for Lucy. ]
Here you go Luce, my own recipe. You're gonna love it.
[ And that would be Matt pulling up a stool and inviting himself to the table, sorry Nathan. ]
So you two share classes then?
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Speaking of, now he's joining them? Ugh.]
Just one. Art history.
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[ Matt looks up and down him, as if trying to get the measure of him. And really, it's not anything he wears that makes him question it, just his apparent attitude. ]
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[ She's keeping well out of it. ]
Go on, smile, what's the worst that could happen? You got a thing against the Irish?
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[so much sarcasm]
Done my best to stay away from guys like you. You're trouble.
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Guys like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don't know anything about me. Go on, what am I like? Seeing as you apparently know me so much.
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Cocky little shit who thinks he can charm his way through anything, mostly.
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Yeah well better charm that than a stuck up wanker that thinks he's better than everyone else.
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I can be plenty charming when I want to. But you're not my type, sweetheart.
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[ That next comment earns a scoff. ] Oh I am not your fucking sweetheart. [ There are words in his head, things to call him, but he's not about to use any of those slurs. ]
How about you drink your drink and stop trying to be one of the big boys.
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~~~
[ It's some unspecified amount of time later (idk), on a Saturday morning and Matt is in the communal kitchen. He's short on cash, nobody at home helps and his wages seem to go nowhere. But he managed enough for a loaf of bread, so he's standing in jogger bottoms and a battered old top, making himself a bit of toast and 'borrowing' the butter and jam of whoever it is that left some in the fridge.
Big mistake ]
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Which is bad enough, but also Nate recognizes that jam label.]
The fuck do you think you're doing?
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The fuck does it look like?
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Oh phone the police, someone took some jam. I don't see your name on it.
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You want your fucking jam then take it. Prick.
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The hell are you doing in here anyway. This kitchen is for residents.
[He's too mad to put it together right now.]
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Probably because I live here then isn't it, genuis? Room 6E. [ Aka the room you probably heard sex coming from that time. Or more times. ]
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Of course you do.
[Why is this his life??]
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