3ofswords | IC Inbox

"So we drop her off then meet the others at the hotel. The only difference between bringing your sister or you is an extra pit stop." Which was a bit generous, considering how much of a clusterfuck traffic was being right now. They were probably still a good twenty minutes away from the rented out hall where prom was being held, and that was if they got all green lights and the chauffeur drove like a mad man.

Which, Ty hoped secretly, he wouldn't. Not only did he want to spill alcohol on himself, but nestled in plush seats of the limo, with Kira so close to him, he felt comfortable. Pleasant and warm, and not just from the whiskey. Even though the deflection was expected, the sting of it was well worn by now, Ty able to laugh it off instead of feeling it fester like a wound, infected and perhaps gangrenous.

Liar he wanted to say, but he let it go for now.

"I still say it makes a better disco ball than an actual outfit. Be honest with me, how many sequined things do you own already?"

"I plead the fifth." Flicking another bottle at Ty, this time to land in his lap, Kira tilts his head back on the seat. His throat splits from the starched collar of his shirt, his bow tie the type with elastic to let him move and breathe. He's less staring at the passing lights than feeling the sleek and subtle hum of the engine, half a limo away, and the deeper hum of the city.

They're not getting green lights, and the chauffeur isn't risking his license for a prom.

"I want a smoke," is the warning Kira gives, rolling up from the seat and using fingertips to suede and ceiling to balance on his way to the door. It's timed perfectly with the red light, the car at rest when he slides it open and steps into the street. "And the train's faster."

"That's basically incriminating yourself- hey!" Ty was a bit surprised that Kira was stepping out into the street, and stunned for a moment. But, the urge to follow him and stay close was stronger than anything, so Ty lurched up to tap on the glass partition to let the driver know they were getting out. He'd still pay of course, and he made sure to pocket the rest of the whiskey before stumbling out.

The air was brisk outside, and grumbling slightly, he shut the door behind him as he trotted to where Kira was.

"Warn a guy next time." He complained, eyeing Kira thoughtfully. "What's the rush? You could have smoked in there."

Could have smoked, could have stayed, with the city calling under their feet and Ty's nervous excitement made slippery with whiskey. "A limo's too big for two people," he says, catching Ty's arm with his own. "And I want to show off my gold sequins."

Well-dressed kids ducking out of limos can't fail to draw attention, but out here, it fades quickly. Too many places to be, and the incomprehensible ire of a cab driver quiets behind them: traffic wasn't moving anyway, when they ducked through his lights to reach the curb.

"If we rode the whole way," he adds, "we'd be too drunk to dance. And Delilah would somehow hold me responsible."

"Should have known your need to showboat can't be contained." Ty teased, but Kira was warm pressed against his arm, and he felt pleasantly pleased by everything, the few mini-bottles of alcohol enough to exacerbate his easy-going manner. He plodded towards the stairs that fed down into the station, laughing at Kira's observation.

"The only way I'm dancing is if I drink enough." He told Kira seriously, because while they may agree and get along about many things, dancing was never going to be one of them. Ty only knew it as being a rigid, formal thing, something he'd been encouraged to do as a kid and now associated with rules and holding his elbows up and stepping on Delilah's feet so much she had nearly murdered him. No real pleasant associations, except when it came to dancing with Kira, he supposed.

"Besides, does it really matter if she does? I can make my own decisions." But Kira was becoming a bigger and bigger factor in those decisions, and they all knew it.

"Nothing of me can be contained, this blazer is as close as we've ever gotten to a proper vessel for my spirit." Kira draws on the cigarette and gestures an offer at the corner, waiting for traffic to shift and let them cross. That outward sense works just as well as watching the lights, holds them the extra second for someone chasing the yellow before he steps onto the asphalt.

At Ty's elbow, his fingers just barely curl, grip the triangular folds of his sleeve. The weight of his arm traps Ty's against his chest, holding him close even as Kira doesn't look at him.

"It's our only fucking Prom, excepting you bombing every final and needing a redo--I am getting a dance, and I am not getting a lecture from your better half."

"Really? I would have thought a bedazzled unicorn costume was the closest." Ty said solemnly, content to let Kira lead and trusting that he would get them there in one piece. Part of him wished that Kira would release his arm, or at least not hold onto it so tightly, because it was making his heart beat crazily in his chest, his whole body warm from something other than alcohol. Most days it was easy enough to tamp down his attraction to his best friend, to be content with what they had instead of thinking of what might happen if they had more, but he was only human. He had moments of weakness, and when Kira pulled him close like this or found excuses to touch him, agreed to go to prom with him, was he a fool for hoping?

He shook his head, drawing himself back into the conversation, putting a hand over his heart as if he'd been wounded. "Even though you don't like her, Delilah's still the better half? That doesn't seem right."

But he wouldn't argue it, at any case. In almost everything, Delilah was better than him. Drive, academics, talents- she really had it all and even being called her worse half was a compliment.

"And if you want a dance," Ty declared, leaning down slightly so he could murmur in Kira's ear, teasingly, "you're going to have to make it worth my while."

"When has better ever been what I'm after," Kira asks, narrowing a look up from their pressed shoulders. Too late does he remember: when has Ty? Just tonight, he thinks, staring down the barrel of eight more years.

Just--Prom, like any other person his age.

Until Ty gives it back, leaning up close and personal. His breath touches Kira's ear, heat disturbing the chill of a Manhattan night settled to Kira's hair--and he breaks away. Gently shoves Ty off in mock offense, skulking ahead with his cigarette.

"My presence is a present," he quips, pulling ahead on the sidewalk. "And if you invited me so you could stand on the sideline drinking punch, discussing how to best save the seals with your friends whose parents inject baby seal blubber into their faces to stay young, I will absolutely leave you in a corner."

Even though Ty was honor bound to hit Kira lightly in the shoulder for the insult, he was still laughing at the barb. "I'm both comforted and insulted. I really didn't want to have to arm wrestle Delilah for your favor. She would have won easily and it would have been embarrassing for all of us."

But mostly him.

He watched fondly as Kira shrugged him off, allowing him to sulk ahead of him for a few steps before falling into step with him. There must really be something wrong with him where Kira's pouting face only endeared him to his best friend more.

"The well being of baby seals is important, Kira." Ty said with a solemnity that was hard to take seriously, tucking his hands into his pockets as they went from the sidewalk to the stairs to take them to the subway. "And you wouldn't. You might get stuck talking to even snobbier rich kids. Then where would you be?"

"On the dancefloor, at least." Another block fades behind them, parts of the city Kira isn't likely to see. However amenable Ty is, however many friends they pretend to share--Kira's a guest here. He'll never be able to quite pay the price of admission.

When he goes out, without Ty, it's not with these people.

But he's not going to stand next to him all night, like he's afraid to leave his anchor. "Is there going to be a real DJ at this thing, I need to ponder my song requests."

"You know just how to wound me." Ty said with a theatrical sigh, before heading up to one of the ticket machines to buy a few train passes. He had only learned how to use the train system because Delilah insisted he be somewhat self-sufficient, and for the few times he felt like taking it to Kira's house instead of taking a car. After he got a few tickets, he headed back to Kira, holding one out in case he wanted one.

"Of course there's going to be a DJ. Don't know what qualifies as 'real' to you though. Last year we had Paris Hilton." Not that Ty was planning on staying long enough to form an opinion on the DJ.

"I suppose you wouldn't really use a card," he says, happy not to have to swipe the one in his back pocket. He never has to really explain I was restless to his mother, when it comes to reviews of his fledgling finances, but her knowing judgment is its own cross to bear.

He waits for Ty to feed the reader at the turnstile and presses in at his back as he pushes through, both of them wedged into the metal arms and passing on a single ticket.

As it cranks them out toward the steps, he shoves Ty ahead, separating them. "There, now we're covered on the return trip."

"Are you kidding? Half the people at school would probably try to hose me down if they knew I'd ever taken the subway." Ty said, going to push through the turnstile blissfully unaware of Kira's plan before suddenly they were squished together. He let out an undignified squawking sound, stumbling out the other side and turning to look at his friend, torn between laughter and scolding.

"Seriously? That's what you're worried about? If I'm paying anyway, is it really that big of a deal?" Still, they had a train to catch, so the scolding could wait once they got a seat. He grabbed at Kira's hand once he saw the doors start to close, all but sprinting so they could make it.

“Nice,” he replies, flat tone and flat gaze, under lifted brows. “I’ll make sure to take a bath in the restroom sink when we get there, really fulfill the concept for them.” The next shove Ty gets is a little more earnest, a bit of a bite that forces him to find his footing as they get on the train.

“Oh no, you touched the rail. Let me check the cards to make sure you’re not going to get leprosy.”

Rolling his eyes, he resists the urge to pull out the spare ticket and tear it up. “Remind me why I’m spending my Friday night on a bunch of assholes?”

"C'mon don't be like that." Ty groaned, hanging onto the railing instead of taking a seat, feeling exhausted or like he was sobering up, neither of which was a particularly wanted feeling. Sometimes the disparities between them seemed enormous, things that wouldn't bother or even register with his other friends seemed like a huge fight with Kira. Not only that, but sometimes Ty wasn't just fighting for what was happening here and now, but stupid things he hadn't even done yet.

"And you're spending Friday night with me." He nudged their shoulders together, giving him a grin. "And we're going to drink, dance, and enjoy ourselves. The assholes are secondary."

He paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "And place bets on who's going to be Prom King and Queen. You think it's too late to try to rig that?"

"I thought you said the assholes were secondary." He mutters it as he flops into several seats, an asshole in his own right and earning the flick of a gaze. Nobody engages on the train if they can help it, and he's not going to announce that they're here for all of two stops.

One arm slung on a corner of several rails, he watches the tunnel recede through the window. "If I'm not getting a tiara, I honestly don't care who does."

He'd cut out early for bigger reasons besides, but being over it had been a general mood. "King and queen of the assholes. Who's most deserving."

"I guess now is an awkward time to tell you that I rigged it so we got nominated." Ty said with mock solemnity, grinning slightly. "But if you want a tiara, I'm sure it can be arranged. You sure your outfit needs more sparkles though?"

He paused as his phone buzzed again, taking it out absently to see a few more texts from the others, texting them back quickly, expression fond, the train slowing to their stop. He tucked his phone away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he went to stand by the doors.

"So other than the tiara, any other prom wishes I should be aware of?"

Kira lets the train sway and rattle to its stop, lets the door open and Ty wait briefly on the other side of it before he moves. He can't remember the last person in his family to own a car; doesn't need prescience to know how long the doors stand open.

He resolves out of the passengers streaming into the train, standing at Ty's elbow just as he starts to look around for him.

"Horse-drawn carriage ride through Central Park," he says, catching Ty by the sleeve and pulling him toward the stairs. "Three am trip up to the top of the Empire State Building--the works."

"I guess I should have asked you sooner. It'll be hard to swing last minute, but I'll do my best." Ty said with a small grin, allowing himself to be led along by Kira. He waited until they were out of the crush of bodies and out on top of the stairs before he hazarded a glance at his best friend, wanting more than anything to link their hands together properly. Instead he shoved his hands into his pants pockets, trying to look unaffected.

"So is now a bad time to tell you I had a promposal song written up? If I had known you actually wanted one, I would have played it for you instead of that video clip."

"That was not on the list," he points out, trying to adjust to the fact that he knows Ty is not joking. He always knows, that Ty is never joking about things like that. "We are well past that. We are promgaged and heading for the prom aisle."

Which is potentially worse, when they're actually on their way to a prom. When Kira is also always, never joking.

He doesn't have to glance at Ty to know how his posture's shifted. He never has to look at Ty at all, he just constantly is, when they're in the other's orbit. With a gentle roll of his eyes, he nods at the awning of the venue up ahead, and offers: "I will settle for you holding my hand on the way in, you fucking loser."

"It might as well be on the list of every romantic prom cliche ever. I think the only thing you missed is confessing your undying love for me." Ty teased, not letting his gaze linger too long on Kira's face just in case it came off as actually Genuine. While he couldn't deny that he would like for nothing more, admitting it when Kira wasn't interested seemed like opening himself up to more teasing than what he was already enduring.

Not that it would matter anyway if they came in holding hands, and Ty felt his face flush, a small smile spreading across his face before he could stop it.

"Wow, is that any way to talk to your prom husband and best friend? I don't want you to hurt yourself, expending all that effort." But he was going to hold out his hand expectantly, because why wait for when they were entering when they could do it now?

"You're not my prom husband until I get a dance out of you, with witnesses." Shoving his hand the rest of the way into Ty's, he squares his shoulders a bit under the sequins. Squares himself internally for the sharper presence at his side, the warmth of a hand, the rush of reaction.

It's too soon to decide, if the rush is better or worse, when it's so close to what he already feels.

"I hope you didn't leave the tickets in the limo," he says, looking out at the street like it might pull up alongside.

"Why do you have to make it sound so ominous?" Ty complained, but he couldn't stop grinning as Kira slid his hand into his. He wanted to squeeze his hand reassuringly, or just to make sure that this was real, but he settled instead for bumping their shoulders together in a totally platonic way, laughing at Kira's grouchiness.

"Whose fault would that be? You should have just said you wanted to take the train and have me all to yourself." He teased, perking up as they got closer to the swanky hotel that had been rented out just for their school's prom. Already streams of other expensively dressed teens were making their way in, some of them having already pregamed harder than they had. There were a few gruff security guards checking tickets are the door, and Ty glanced over at Kira, eyebrow raised.

"Last chance to bail."

"It's your prom and your tickets: it would be your fault." Not that he's worried: he's never worried. Either realistically dreading oncoming strife, or secure in the knowledge that nothing is going to happen.

Nothing isn't quite what he feels for the rest of the night, but it's not an immediate sense, and it isn't dread. Looking at the line of suits and short dresses, he finds justification for the sequins. It isn't a cheap jacket by his means, but it doesn't suffer from the flair, and it comes off intentional.

"Where the fuck else am I going to wear this," he asks, squeezing the hand in his and yanking Ty toward the line.

It was stupid and unfair how the fact that Kira hadn't thought of wearing that obnoxious sequin jacket anywhere else but to prom with Ty made his heart stutter and stop. Almost as soon as they were inside they found the others, there was more drinking, and like Kira had predicted, the biggest assholes of the school got crowned King and Queen. He allowed Kira to drag him out more often than not on the dance floor, and even though he was sure he looked ridiculous, he couldn't stop laughing and was surprised by how good of a time he was having. But then again, he always had a good time with Kira around, and that was the dangerous part.

He had bugged off to catch a breath and chat a bit with the others when a slow song came on, his stomach twisting. They were probably going to cut out soon, which was fine with him, but before they did he wanted to have one slow dance. Even if it was cliche, he might not get another chance.

So he went to find Kira again, nudging him gently with an elbow. "Hey, wanna dance?"

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