“You’d do that for me?” Declan seemed to get oddly sentimental while high– something that was different for him while drunk. The curly haired boy tended to gravitate towards those who he’d like to take to bed while under the influence of alcohol, and yet, these sugar cookies were making him want to curl into Hunter’s side and stay there for a while. Their friendship had always had an odd dynamic; something Jude had no problem telling them. The other male seemed to get uncomfortable, but Declan couldn’t care less. He and Hunter were just close. As soon as he joined their duo it was as if the pieces finally all fit perfectly. Declan loved the blond haired boy, fully and truly. “You’re great, man.” Declan then gave his buddy a slight nudge to the shoulder before shutting his eyes and taking a moment to let out a long sigh. He was relaxed now, like he could stay like this forever. “Hmmmmmmmmm,” he let his voice drag on for what seemed to be hours. “I have some stuff in the kitchen, I think,” his pause was very lengthy, trying to decipher what he actually did have in the kitchen. “We could even chill in my room, bro!” the idea was so extraordinary to him that he jumped from the couch immediately. “C’mon,” the brunette offered his hand quickly, ready to pull Hunter up from the incredibly cushioned couch to enjoy their next adventure.
Hunter laughed, although it came out closer to a giggle than anything else. “Nah man, you’re great,” he responded, in a manner that seemed intelligent and necessary at the time. He perked up even more when Declan promised food, already starting to feel the effects of the munchies. "Alright, snacks!” Hunter cheered enthusiastically, letting Declan drag him up from the couch. There was a part of him that wanted to sink into the infinitely comfortable cushions for the rest of the night. It was warm, he was already reaching the comfortable warm and half floating sensation, and he felt good. But the prospect of junk food, as well as more time with one of his best friends, was too good to ignore. Once they were both standing he dragged Declan towards the snacks, turning into a man on a mission who only belatedly remembered to let go of Declan’s hand once they were both inside the kitchen. This was Declan’s place, so he felt comfortable enough opening up the cupboards and refrigerator on his own, and rifling through both until he found things that looked good. Namely, two bags of chips and a bag of Sour Patch Kids. Thank God for Declan’s junk food habit, honestly. “Am I missing anything good?” he asked, turning back to get Declan’s expert opinion on the food in his kitchen. “’Cause if we’re good here, let’s head back to your room. I am way too hungry to share with anyone other than you.”
Declan eyed the treat before him, realizing it looked slightly more green than the average sugar cookie. Once Hunter took a bite of his the brown haired by did the same, chewing and swallowing quickly so that he could take another piece off. “Of course!” the boy replied, his excitement slightly mock as he nudged his companion. “It’s alright,” he answered, now serious in his opinion. “Kinda boring though. I mean, we don’t even have a fucking keg stand.” Declan was somehow baffled by this, always remembering seeing one somewhere around at any party he attended. One of his favorite parts of a party was seeing people turn themselves upside down to drink as much alcohol as they could. Declan still seemed to hold the record in their group of friends, but suddenly realized he hadn’t tried in a while. He was getting sidetracked; probably a side effect of the weed. “What about you, bro?” his words were much more drawn out after having some time to himself. “You enjoyed yo’self?”
“Shit man, I’m sure there’s a keg around here somewhere. Be the keg stand you want to see in the world,” Hunter joked. “I’ll hold your legs.” It did seem relatively chill for a party... which of course meant that it still wasn’t chill at all, but people hadn’t necessarily started puking yet. Hunter was perfectly content to stay on the couch though, amusing himself with people watching while Declan seemed to get lost in his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how much time passed while Hunter analyzed the girls on the dance floor, trying to figure out as much as he could just based on their outfits and facial expressions (and, of course, if he happened to check them out while looking, it was still purely scientific), but by the time Declan spoke up again, Hunter could feel the edible starting to affect him. It was the same familiar feeling of relaxation mixed with all around good vibes, and it was Hunter’s favorite kind of high. He was sleepy exactly, but he was calmer than normal, and he could feel that throughout his body. Hunter stirred at Declan’s question though, looking over at his friend as Declan picked up their conversation once more. “Hell yeah,” Hunter affirmed, giving his friend a slow smile. It was true. Tonight seemed like it would be a good one already. While he didn’t necessarily want to move from this couch, there was one immediate problem — “I totally forgot to bring normal food though, so sooner or later, we are definitely going to have to make a snack run.”
Declan couldn’t think of a better way to spend his Friday evening: at a party with his friends, scoping out new ladies to bring upstairs and have some fun with. Declan wasn’t particularly wasted just yet, but he was on his second beer, and the punch looked oddly inviting. He thought he might as well sit and relax before his liquor kicked in, yet as soon as he downed the last of his drink a blond haired male appeared, and automatically Declan knew it was Hunter. “Bro,” he affectionately started. “You’re actually the fucking best!” Hunter was always finding new and creative ways to achieve a high, and Declan followed along just as eager to see how things went. Plus, who could say no to sugar cookies? “Of course I fucking want one, shit…” he let his voice trail off as he reached forward to take the bag from Hunter’s limp hands. The brunette easily snaked his hand inside, grabbing a particularly large cookie and handing the baggie back to his companion. “I’m so stoked.”
“Oh, I know I am,” Hunter said flippantly, letting Declan take the bag from him. Once his friend was done choosing, Hunter pulled out a cookie for himself too, before folding the bag back up and placing it into his pocket. There was more if they wanted them, but somehow he doubted they’d need him. Edibles were always particularly strong, especially when he had a hand in cooking them — which might be why he preferred them. That, and he liked the actual process of making them too. Cooking was like alchemy, except in this case, it involved drugs. “So how goes the party? Better now that I’m here?” he asked, settling into the couch and taking a bite of his cookie once he was done speaking. For something that was full of weed it did a remarkable job of tasting sweet, and Hunter silently congratulated himself, and made a mental note to use this recipe again later.
Hunter spent most of his Friday nights at some party, and tonight was no exception. Thankfully, tonight was also a real party, as opposed to the shitty excuse for a good time his parents had thrown last week. Akira was really the only interesting thing about those, but he’d still rather be here with his friends. Speaking of friends — where the hell were his favorite ones? It seemed too early in the night for either of them to be someone else’s bed already, but then again, sometimes Declan and Jude surprised him. Hunter did another lap around the party, fending off the attention of other friends and flirtations as he did so. He could always hang out with them later. This time around he finally spotted Declan on the couch, and Hunter immediately collapsed down beside his friend, throwing an arm around his shoulder with the easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship. “Guess what I have,” he announced, fishing the baggie out of his pocket and showing it to Declan. “Cannabis sugar cookies,” he explained. “The recipe is supposed to be hella good. Want one?”
nothing lasts forever, but this is getting good now.
Tagged → Akira Mori and Hunter Tam
Location → A party at the Tam residence, thrown by his parents for various other elite adults in their friend group.
Time Frame → Late Friday Night
The party glittered around them, characterized by the usual fancy suits and unnecessarily expensive champagne. The latter was meant for the adults to drink while they discussed business and gossip, but no one ever monitored it, not even before Hunter was twenty-one. Now that he was older, it was even easier to snag a few glasses and bring them over to where Akira waited.
Hunter approached slowly, unable to resist taking a moment to observe her in her natural environment. Despite the fact that she would smile and talk to anyone who came over, there was something intimidating about her, and people tended to steer clear. It was probably the way her smile never reached her eyes, or the way she could switch from pseudo-beaming to blank and dead eyed in an instant, usually the second someone with important social or political ties turned their back on her. His parents always made sure these parties were full of the richest and most well connected people in San Francisco, and Akira knew how to play the game, he'd give her that. But she had always been much better at navigating these events than he was. Hunter was far more prone to showing up high and stealing the booze, inevitably making a scene halfway through. He just didn't have the patience for these things, not like she apparently did.
They were an odd combination clearly, and their lurking in corners hadn't gone unnoticed by the group around them. His parents thought hanging out with Akira would be good for him; Akira's parents shot him murderous looks in the streets. Hunter had a feeling that that was part of the reason why she deigned to spend time with him in the first place, but all he knew for sure was that she'd probably murder him if anyone outside this room ever heard about any of it. It was an easy secret to keep though — their bourgeoisie parents never interacted with any of their friends.
Hunter slid up alongside Akira, offering her one of the glasses in his hand. "Come on, live a little," he said before she had a chance to protest, knowing that Akira tended to look down on anything that affected her mental faculties.
Akira pursed her lips and took the glass, but he knew she wouldn't drink it. She never did, just like she never smiled at him, not the kind that reached her eyes. Not yet, at least. But in the past few months her expression had softened somewhat, something that would only be apparent to someone who paid attention.
And he did pay attention. Hunter couldn't help it. He understood people usually — knew what held them together, and what it would take to pull them apart. Jude, for example, wanted attention and a purpose, but only if it didn’t take any effort on his part. His parents wanted money, and Akira’s parents wanted status. People like that were easy to figure out. Hunter didn't often use his knowledge against them of course. He wasn't malicious, he just...liked to know. About things, about people. Especially people. Humans were far more complicated than any textbook, and it was much more rewarding to understand them than anything else.
Akira though...she was something new, something he had a much harder time understanding. He knew his IQ was higher than hers, so why was she always one step ahead of him? She kept him on his toes, and it was fascinating. Not that he'd ever tell her that. It didn't fit into their script — she insulted him, he protested, they bantered, they snuck off, they fucked, they never spoke of it again. That was the routine, and as Akira opened her mouth to speak, he settled in for it.
"I'm only spending time with you because there's no one better around," she told him, champagne glass dangling forgotten from her slender fingers. Hunter wondered what it'd be like to have her run her fingers through his hair again, in front of everyone this time instead of in some abandoned room or broom closet. He'd figured out enough about Akira to know that PDA wasn't an option though, especially not with him.
"I know that," Hunter said easily, taking a long drink from his champagne. It wouldn’t do much for him, but at least it tasted alright, and he wasn’t too manly to admit that he liked the bubbles. "There's not ever going to be anyone better around though, duh. I am the best. You can be second best though."
Akira rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth quirked up somewhat. Not a full smile, not yet. But Hunter was getting closer.
"Arrogance is disgusting if it isn't earned," Akira told him, her facial expression smoothing out to its default blank again. Every now and then he saw glimpses of her though — the person who was beyond the bitchy facade at circle meetings, and someone who was more than the fake personality she showed here. There was a real Akira somewhere. He knew it. He just had to find her.
"How do you know I haven't earned it?" Hunter protested. It was met with a look from Akira that could only be described as "withering". "'Early in my career I had to choose between an honest arrogance and a hypocritical humility. I deliberately chose an honest arrogance, and I've never been sorry,'" he quoted, taking a different track. "Frank Lloyd Wright," he added, raising his glass in tribute.
"It must be so useful to quote others, saving yourself from the trouble of thinking for yourself," Akira said, apparently unphased by his ability to quote famous authors at the drop of a hat. It had been worth a shot.
"Well, thankfully I'm good at other things, as you may have noticed." The innuendo was obvious, and when he met Akira's eyes again her expression was more intense than before. Hunter had a feeling the banter phase of their night was almost over. He was almost sorry — she could keep up with him verbally, and that was nice. Only almost sorry though, since the sex was even better.
"I'm not convinced," Akira said with a deep sigh, as if she was about to fall asleep due to boredom. He'd like to think he knew her better than that though, and Hunter snorted, not believing her act. It was an extremely undignified sound, and it earned another reproachful look from Akira. "I'm not going to have sex with you if you sound like a pig," she told him, blunt almost to a fault when she wanted to be.
It was more real than anything else she'd shown him tonight though, and Hunter beamed. "I'll make better sounds later, Scouts Honor."
He knew who he sounded like before Akira even pointed it out, rolling her eyes again in a way that screamed 'rebellious teenager', and didn't quite suit the pearls around her neck or the elegant black dress clinging to her body. "You've been spending too much time with Declan."
"Hey, Declan's my man!" Hunter protested, equal parts due to loyalty and because he wanted to get a reaction out of Akira. That reaction came in the form of her rolling her eyes again, even more intensely this time. "My mom says that if you make that face too many times it'll be stuck that way," Hunter said, grinning jovially at her.
"Good. Maybe people will finally leave me alone,"Akira said, dryly. He'd half expected her to say 'I guess that's what happened to your face Hunter', but then again, it was probably too easy of an insult for Akira. Did she do anything the easy way?
"Nice misanthrope act, but you have to like some people. I mean, you clearly like me, right?"
And there it was again — the almost smile at her lips, even as she quickly clamped down on it. "I tolerate certain parts of you. What little is bearable."
"Oh, it's not little," Hunter said, unable to resist.
Akira sighed deeply, and put her champagne glass down on the table behind them. Tonight was clearly not going to be the night he managed to convince her to drink. "You remember that I've already seen your penis, right? You don't have to bluster."
"'Penis' is like, the least sexy word for it. So clinical." Hunter made a face. "Don't you know how to be sexy?" If there was one thing he knew Akira would definitely react to, it was a challenge.
And she did. Akira blinked, long and slow, and he could almost see her face changing. While Hunter couldn't pinpoint what exactly was different, she suddenly went from bored to bedroom eyes, her smirk changing from scornful to sensual. "Was I supposed to say 'oh, Hunter, please fuck me with your huge cock, just thinking about it has me so wet and ready for you'?"
The line was absurd, but something about the way Akira said it made it work. Probably something to do with her breathiness, the way she pitched her voice closer to a moan than a conversation. Or the way she leaned in close, her dress suddenly more low cut than he'd realized. "That helps, yeah," Hunter said, swallowing dryly.
Her point was clear though — Akira could be sexy when she wanted to be, and she wasn’t above proving that when questioned. It was all carefully controlled though, to be pulled out in an instant when she deemed it necessary.
And truth be told, that was part of what drew him to her. Akira was a chameleon, changing her face from disdainful to lustful in seconds, and he knew she could go back again just as easily. There was no way of knowing what was actually real, no matter how much he boasted inwardly about 'figuring out Akira Mori'. He didn't know how she did it. But he was going to find out someday.
The mood of the conversation had shifted though, and they officially had more important things to attend to at the moment. Hunter followed Akira out of the hall once no one was looking at two of them, escaping into his room together. And in the darkness, in between kisses that were fifty percent teeth, he was almost sure she felt her smiling against his lips.
Similar: Three members of the same sex I find attractive.
"Declan, Jude, and me…what, I can’t find myself attractive?” Hunter rattled off the answer almost immediately, and then shrugged, a smug look on his face. “I mean I’m not gay for my friends or anything, but it’s just an objective fact. We’re the hottest guys in town. Ask anyone.”
▼ - childhood headcanon
"I was kind of a bratty kid," Hunter admitted with a laugh. He’d fought with his teachers and fallen asleep in class often enough that his parents had hired him private tutors, but they’d bored him too. It just seemed natural to him that he’d found his entertainment messing with other people, and it was clear that he wasn't ashamed of that fact at all — possibly because he was a bit of a bratty adult as well. "I used to edit the Wikipedia pages for stuff the day before essays and shit, and laugh when people included my bullshit facts in their presentation," he said, smiling fondly. "Okay, I actually still do that. People shouldn’t use Wikipedia as a source."
It shouldn’t be that hard, right? Besides, Google is my bitch. How do you think I got passing grades on all of my papers? I bet you spent hours on your essays, and I just looked shit up online. Who’s the smart one now?
Okay, alright. King versus Burwell— what’s that about? I’m trusting you here, y’know. You better not be making up some random bullshit to make me look stupid.
What the fuck is philosophy? Look, this smoking hot girl named Lexie is coming, and she’s like, straight A top of the class smart. I need to know this mumbo-jumbo shit to do her, and I don’t have time to research it, ok? Come on bro, help me out!
You know — Nietzsche, Dostoyevsky. The meaning of life, if there even is one, and what it would mean for us. That's philosophy, dumbass.
But alright, fine. Is she a law student? Ask her for her opinion on some controversial shit. Y'know, the big current cases. King versus Burwell might be a good place to start, since it's happening right now. Anyway, the point is, if you can get her talking, she'll say all the smart stuff for you.
Ew, that’s so gross. I’m sorry, man. Sincerely. But hey, these ladies will have no expectation— and then you’ll blow them away! Put a good word in for me though, yeah? Teach me some of your smart shit mumbo-jumbo.
I mean, you're hosting and he's just bringing booze. So this weekend you get the props.
Hm...since you're so obviously lacking when it comes to getting laid, I guess I could help you out. I think more often than not I end up talking about philosophy. Fuck if I know if that's me or them, but it works. You'd have to do some research or get really good at making shit up on the fly though.
'Course, dude. I got your back. Jude's bringing the good beer, and I got a few girls from studying law at GGU to come by. They're hot— like, so fucking hot. Talk some of your smart shit mumbo-jumbo and you’re so fucking in! Am I the fucking best or am I the fucking best?
And internship apps? Are you serious? Thank god my parents don’t expect anything more than straight C’s from me.
You're still throwing a party this weekend, right? 'Cause my parents have been pestering me with internship apps all week, and I'm already slowly going insane. On Tuesday. I need something to look forward to.
