savetheearth | Ding dong the wicked cops are gone

Who: YOU.
When: April 30th, 5 pm EST onward
Where: Kotetsu's house
What: Party, and party again!
Warnings: I cannot imagine there being any but I will update if necessary.

[All told, it's a pretty respectable-looking shindig for one whipped up at the last minute. There are like ten boxes of extra-large pizza of various types from veggie to hawaiian to meat lover's supreme stacked up on the table along with a cake (it's very basic with nothing specific to the occasion decorating it, but it's the thought that counts, right?), and various junk foods. Basically this is a terrible party to go to if you're a very health-conscious person because pretty much nothing he's serving is objectively good for you. Except for maybe the fruit punch, as the non-alcoholic alternative to the alcohol for the number of minors that are on the network.

The house itself is in pretty decent shape, too. Every so often there may be a telltale sign of his bachelor lifestyle (an empty can he forgot to throw away, a shirt on the floor instead of the laundry), but overall the air is reasonably festive. Kotetsu's arm is still in the sling, but that doesn't seem to dampen his spirits any as he greets his guests.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nick would've asked Lyall to come to the party even before their talk, but now - now he'd asked him to come with him. It's a big distinction in Nick's mind, all right, it makes this officially a date.

Not that he's really acting all that different than he would have before, except for having even less personal space than he used to and not bothering to try to keep his smiles from occasionally slipping into flirtatious.

He's about to suggest they go snag some victory cake, but reconsiders when he remembers the thing about processed sugar. "Hey, if you can't have cake now, what are we going to do for your birthday?" This is a legitimate question, okay. "Maybe I can do a meat cake, with mashed potato frosting."

"That sounds disgusting, please don't do it," Lyall answers, making a face. He's been hanging back some, at least trying to influence Nick to stay out of the center of the room with him in tow. The busy house and all the people in it are a little jarring, but he does understand the celebratory mood, and generally agree with it. He'd just rather be celebrating it quietly. And with fewer people who smell like he should be eating them.

"Though I appreciate the thought," he adds. "I'll just have a nice dinner or something. Cake isn't all that necessary." Even if it's a little disappointing. "What brought that question on?"

"I think it sounds like you're doubting my cooking skills," he says, grinning widely at that face. Nick's more than okay with staying towards the edges of the room as long as he's with Lyall - this is technically a date, after all, and he's happy to have Lyall mostly to himself.

"They're having victory cake. I was going to try to be a good date and offer to get you some, but then I remembered." He shrugs, but isn't quite ready to give up the birthday cake thing yet. "And cake is very necessary, even if it's meatloaf cake. When is your birthday, anyway?"

"Not until August, so there's plenty of time for you to come up with something." Or plenty of time for him to forget about it. Or for them to not last-- or things to get difficult again, and one or both of them to lose their echoes, or something more permanent. Lyall is trying not to think too far in the future, to be honest, and just enjoy things as they are now. It's already lasted longer than he'd expected.

"What about yours?" he asks, half curious and half deflecting. "Please don't tell me it's next week, I'll never be able to come up with something appropriate in time."

"I'll start planning ahead." He's only partially teasing. Now that it's in his head, it's not something he's going to let go. Not that he's not thinking about all of that, too. He is, more than he'd like, but, well. He's always been the kind of guy who plans big.

Nick raises an eyebrow - he's noticed that deflection, man - but goes along with it, chuckling. "Nah, it's not until late June. You're safe, even if I'm curious now."

"You'll have to give me an actual date, next time I'm near enough a calendar to put it down," Lyall says. He supposes he could put it into his phone, but he doesn't have much there in the way of details on his contacts, like birthdays and such. He'd probably forget to check it.

"Maybe we'll be lucky and it'll be near next month's full moon, so I won't have to take any extra time off work," he adds with a chuckle.

Nick's smile widens. "A calendar? Like an actual page one, not the one on your phone and computer?" He should probably not find that endearing, but he really does. It's... he refuses to think the word 'cute,' but something along those lines.

"Well hey, even if it isn't, we can always celebrate it a little early."

"Hmm, there is that," he agrees thoughtfully, already trying to think of something they could do. Their birthdays are actually fairly close together, it seems-- just a month and a half apart.

He offers a wry smile. "Yes, I do have an actual calendar on my wall, but I will be keeping it in my computer, as well. The computer comes with me to work, after all, and the calendar doesn't."

Whatever they do, it's absolutely going to involve a meatloaf cake. He's already planning on looking up recipes. "Apparently it's not just the past life you who's old fashioned," Nick teases, but the look on his face is very obviously affectionate.

"I could have told you that," Lyall replies with a smile that's admittedly a little shy. That look is still kind of new to him, and he's enjoying it. "I grew up in rural Iowa and my degree is in sheep biology. If that isn't old-fashioned, I don't know what is."

He's exaggerating a little. But only a little.

Nick laughs, absently shifting just a little bit closer, to rest one hand on Lyall's hip. "I like old fashioned. Well, on you, anyway." But he likes just about everything on Lyall at the moment. "You got a degree in sheep biology and ended up teaching high school?"

"A long and rather boring story involving being unable to find and afford a decent grad school that cared a whit about my research ideas," Lyall shrugs, glancing down at that hand, but then taking the chance to settle closer, himself, and rest his head for a moment on Nick's shoulder. "I did some substituting, in the meantime, and found I rather liked it, so got my credential, instead."

Ding dong the wicked cops are gone

closed to Lyall

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