gooseberryhigh | KISSING DAY

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KISSING DAY

KISSING DAY

RULES

Kissing Day is the day before the summer solstice! It's considered good luck to get kissed today, and bad luck and a year of loneliness if you don't get a kiss, or if the object of your affection refuses a kiss from you.

The melodrama of what it means if you don't get the right kiss can vary, so feel free to have your characters be incredibly melodramatic or extremely exasperated over this superstition.

Simply comment with your character's name and form below, and then respond to others who have posted their characters!

Some students may be under the impression that more kissing = more luck. Will anything special happen if you collect the most kisses? (... probably not, but you'll sure feel loved.)

Name:
Receptiveness: Is your character soliciting kisses? Actively avoiding them? Only accepting them from select people? Do they need to be harangued into participating? Are they losing it because if their crush doesn't kiss them they're going to die alone???

» KISSES: Post your character's willingness to get some kisses!

» OTHER: If you have any scenes you'd like to do that don't fit in above, put them here!

» OOC: QUESTIONS, COMMENTS & CONCERNS

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By lunchtime, Bash has completely given up on looking like he hasn't been having progressively smaller heart-attacks between his examinations - so it's with some borderline Einsteinian hair-vibes that he flops himself into the chair next to Lucas'.

"So have you been saved from bad luck and a full year of loneliness yet?"

The question is totally both casual and cool - because Sebastien Lacroix is a goddamn smooth operator.

"Almost sufficiently," Lucas says as he shuts his Nintendo DS and pivots to face Bash, elbow on the table, cheek resting heavily on the heel of his hand. "I'm not convinced this isn't some new disease." His brain is a little fried from all these tests. There's a smile spreading across his face as he looks Bash up and down. And the back of his neck is already feeling too warm. Okay, he honestly wasn't sure after that Hermeticism final, but there's definitely enough unreserved brain power left to feel embarrassed at himself.

He clears his throat and gestures at Bash's hair. "Did you get assaulted by Charlie, too?"

Bash, legs all twisted up like a pretzel, takes a moment to look very thoughtful. (It probably doesn't warrant a whole moment, but he's working on a bit of a delay here. Brain's feeling a bit strung out.) "We are really good at diseases." Which is honestly troubling. Somebody should probably look into that.

"You, um -" Assaulted? How does that - "No?" He reaches a hand up, eyes widening when his fingers skim the edges of his hair before they flatten it. Harshly. "Oh, wow. No. That's all me?"

Lucas' eyes widen, and then he flinches. "Um, oh." Real smooth, Lucas. Scratching the back of his head, he adds, "It's...cute?"

Still in conversation recovery mode, he hunches forward a bit, letting his arms drop off the table and clasping his fingers in his lap. It's like he's simultaneously leaning in and slightly uncomfortable. This is pretty standard for Lucas Kowalski. "What about you? Maximize your luck for the next three hundred sixty-five days? Or contract a zombie virus?"

His hand hovers, attempting some sort of blind survey of the general area his hair is currently occupying before carding through the whole lot of it with a sigh. It honestly doesn't help much, but no one was expecting miracles at this point. "It's a poor man's fro, is what it is."

He smiles, crooked, and ticks up a finger in inquiry. "Is Gabi allowed to single-handedly save me from languishing in loneliness?" The finger lowers, tapping lightly against the side of his nose. "Cause, otherwise, I've generously saved Micah's life. But I'm probably going to die a hermit."

"I think that counts?" Lucas, a novice of the school of flirting with someone you think is super neat, would have much rather said something cool and charming, but he hasn't taken that course, yet. Although, on second thought, when has Lucas ever not skipped ahead in class?

"Um," he presses his lips together as he formulates his thoughts. A teasing grin spreading across his face when he ventures, "What if it's not, though? You better find someone else to kiss so you don't have to go house hunting in remote mountain locations."

Words. Right. This is one of the times when his ability to overuse them would be better served in just using just a few of them but super well. This would probably go well if he had time for revisions, but - He swallows, a bit convulsively, dropping his hands into his lap and knotting his hands together. One chance. No white-out. Okay, here goes.

"You -" A cough. Okay, just a bit of white-out. "You think so? You know where I should look?" His lips twitch. "I mean, I'm obviously not meant for mountain living."

Teetering on the edge of failure for delivery, but a respectable B+ on the phrasing.

"You know," Lucas' brain detours, for the briefest of moments, to how Bash is probably a dark wizard with mind control powers. Because that is literally the only way Lucas can explain how he keeps winding up in these situations, as though compelled; always completely unprepared. Well, okay, that's a lie. There are other explanations, too. The jokes, that laugh, the ridiculous conversations, that face...

Wow, okay, you are really pushing the limits of what can be considered a brief moment, Lucas. Rein it in.

"If you really wanted to be saved from fresh air, snow-capped peaks and sweeping vistas," Lucas can feel his cheeks burning. His feet start to bounce. Can't turn back now, though. "I might be able to help."

Holy shit.

Bash blinks, eyes going wide and smile going a bit incredulous. That wasn't actually supposed to work? Well, it was, but - theoretically? Like it was going to work in the hypothetical scenario he'd immediately concocted in his head. But reality? It was reality? Not that - well, reality had been sort of nice lately.

"Please. Have you seen me? I definitely need to be saved." He slides his hand onto the tabletop - a move for a move, that's fair? - and his head is full of nothing but steam and jitters. "Got some recommendations?"

"I know for a fact there's someone nearby who is interested in helping you out of your predicament." Lucas says, words rushing out of him. His brows go up and he clamps down on his grin, as though he's afraid of opening his mouth, again. There's another long pause as Lucas tries to steady his bouncing legs.

He gives up, pulling his hands apart and resting one palm flat on the table, fingers brushing Bash's hand. The other hand he uses to stroke his chin thoughtfully. He has no clue what he's doing. God help him. "They're a bit shy, though. And there's an awful lot of people around."

The reply zaps its way across his skin in a way that's sort of cold and then sort of tingly and Bash grips tight onto Lucas' hand just for something solid. And because it's nice. Maybe not strictly familiar just yet, but it's getting there? Or it could? And that's nice. And, as a course of action, it's a lot better than pressing his fingers over the length of the grin on Lucas' face like his brain seems to think is a good idea.

(It's not. It's a weird idea and it really doesn't matter how nice you think something is. That doesn't mean you should go and touch it.)

"We could - Um." How did people do this kind of thing often enough that it was no big deal? Because his head kind of felt a bit like radio static sounded and there was no way that was normal or doctor recommended. He takes a breath and starts again, "There are. A lot of people. We could maybe go and meet 'em outside? Probably less people there."

Head full of bubbles - that's what it feels like when Bash takes his hand. Or maybe one too many goes on the tilt-a-whirl. Gleeful, but completely disoriented.

"Outside. Great idea," Lucas agrees, breathless, standing without thinking. Without thinking seems to have become de rigeur when it comes to Lucas interacting with Bash. And there's a tiny, terrified part of Lucas' head yelling at him to stop or at least slow down. But, for real, that tiny voice can go to hell.

"Follow me?" He asks, nodding his head toward the door.

"Yeah." He nods, grinning upward for a few seconds - cause, hi, wow, that's a really nice angle - before he gets with the program and realizes that he's probably supposed to be standing up too. Then it's a few more seconds of negotiating with the tangle he's made out of his legs, but he gets there. Upright and flushed and grinning like an absolute idiot. "Yeah, okay."

He bounces on his toes, like a balloon on a tether, and nods. "Lead on, MacDuff."

"Famous last words," Lucas snickers, looking more at ease than he feels. Oh boy, does he hope this doesn't end like Macbeth. That'd be sub-optimal.

He keeps hold of Bash's hand as they leave the cafeteria, skin warm and tingling, and spares a few glances at him as they walk. Mostly because he wants to, but also as a highly practical way of making sure Bash is still there. And that this isn't some particularly vivid daydream. So far, so good. Now to just conquer the fact that he has no clue what the hell he's going to do once they get outside.

No dice. The stroll from cafeteria to out of doors is less than a minute. "Okay," Lucas says, more to himself than anything, exhaling a puff of air. He turns facing Bash and trying to shrug the tension out of his shoulders. Then he babbles for a bit: "I, um...would you...how about--" Lucas stops himself, takes a breath, and says, "Can I kiss you?"

"Really?" Bash asks, in a clear display of the intelligence that got him into this school in the first place. As though he hadn't trailed along after Lucas the whole way out here. And like he hadn't been the one to drop himself into this conversation in the (kind of stupidly optimistic, in retrospect) hope of this exact outcome.

Not that he knows what to do with this outcome. Other than sort of gaping a bit and running his thumb over the back of Lucas' knuckles - slowly enough that he can trace out each one individually.

"I mean, yes. Definitely." Then, cause his momma raised him right: "Please." And, for good measure (and because he's really bad at keeping his mouth shut): "You're gonna have to lean down a lot. Sorry. I mean, I can kiss you back, yeah?"

Edited (greetings from washington square dog park!) 2017-06-20 22:48 (UTC)

Alright. Okay. Cool. Great. Awesome. Fantastic. But, now what? If he could describe the whole of his non-familial kissing experiences in one word, Lucas would call it 'raucous,' which is, in practice, way less exciting than it sounds. Trust him. Thanks, Gooseberry, that's really going to help him here.

"So demanding," Lucas deadpans, even though there's a big dumb smile on his face and the notion of being kissed back is now hitting him like a mac truck. A great mac truck. An eagerly anticipated mac truck.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and back, bouncing. Lucas leans down (a lot, as instructed) with perhaps more enthusiasm than he's probably ready for, and promptly knocks his nose against Bash's. For a split second, he wishes the ground would open up and eat him, but, shit he's already here and he really would like to kiss this boy. So he does, lips parted from sheepish laughter.

There's no shame in admitting that he's so occupied with details that there isn't nearly enough time to panic. Which is sort of nice in and of itself. (There are a full five inches to traverse here and the curve of Lucas' grin is just a tiny bit higher on one side and, man, is he clever - like he even looks clever - and it sort of makes no sense at all that this is happening.) Bash does some of his best work in split seconds.

The first attempt makes him laugh, just barely a soft exhale, and it takes some genuine effort not to stick his fingers into the mess of things - to smooth them down the bridge of Lucas' nose just to check that it's fine. So they hover for a moment instead, fluttering a bit like winged things freshly pinned.

But the second one works out just fine, even if it catches a bit on the edge of a grin. But that's easily realigned. Easily. Bash presses upward helpfully and his fingers finally figure out what they want to do with themselves, carefully skimming the ends of dark curls. They're soft and everything just kind of goes all still and hushed and fuzzy in his head. No clamoring of bells or shuffling of run-on sentences, just - quiet. It's pretty much the best thing he's heard all day.

Lucas' skin prickles, hot and cold shooting through him like cracks in thin ice. He wriggles from the light touch of Bash's fingers in his hair, free hand drifting up and then back down, because he doesn't know what to do with it, but he'd really like to put it somewhere - preferably on Bash. He settles on the back of Bash's neck, thumb pressed just beneath his ear, to coax him gently upward. Lucas tilts his head, having a go at deepening the kiss.

It makes him feel drunk, head muddy, everything but the two of them gone blurry. And when he breaks the kiss, it takes him a few seconds to find his breath. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that hermit thing, now." Lucas mumbles, gaze fixed on Bash, pupils dilated.

Bash nods readily, all solemn agreement, not breaking eye contact even though he kind of wants to look everywhere. Catalogue everything. His fingers twitch with it from where they've slid to hover even with Lucas' collarbones now that he's flat-footed once more. "Thanks for the save."

He lets it rest there for a good second - which is about a good second longer than he'd like to - before impulse wins out and he steals a kiss for himself. Quick, in the manner of all good thievery, and firm. He maybe has to go way up on his toes for it, so the end result's a bit wobbly, but there's a smile pressed very securely into the middle of it.

"I, uh -" He grins, shooting for self-assured and landing somewhere around sheepishly pleased, scrubbing the heel of one hand across his cheek in some futile attempt to wipe off the brightness that's settled in under his skin. "Just in case?"

"No problem," Lucas responds, both to the thanks and the stolen kiss, which set his whole body to buzzing again. His knees knock a little, bouncing with excess energy, and the subsequent blurted invitation of "anytime," leaps out of him like an excited frog, trailed by a stumbling laugh. If his face could redden anymore, it would have, but he still doesn't tear his attention away.

He lets his hand slip down the length of Bash's arm. "Do you, um," he's grinning so much he has to stop a moment and collect himself. "Have time before your next exam? Want to take a walk?"

"Yes." It's vehement and tumbles out quickly enough that he needs a second afterward to take stock of what time it is. (Like, really, what time zone are they in right now? Does he still have tests? How important are tests, really?) "I mean, I think?" His nose crinkles up, snagging Lucas' hand when it reaches his and holding on.

Then he nods, free hand ticking down imaginary time slots and reasonably certain of their availability. "I do. Yes." Another nod. He's doing a lot of that. Holy shit, Guppy. Still yourself. It's with very purposeful stillness that he clarifies, "Have time. Want to. Both."

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