Room 303, Thursday Morning After Classes

[bitchprince]

Arthur had had to put on spandex for class. It had taken work. It had taken effort. And it had become completely impossible to get rid of, which explained why he stomped into 303 still in his suit.

Red and gold spandex looked nice on him, yes, like many things, but Up With It he would not put. He sat down on the bed and got to unlacing his boots as soon as possible while he waited for Merlin to show up and help him out.

Once the boy was gone, he'd be far more comfortable.

[[ for the ears, at first, and then open to anyone after now that he's back to being dressed properly ]]

Comments

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

And lo, there was a Merlin.

"You're still in it..."

[bitchprince]

"Stop sniggering and help me get out of it," Arthur ordered, shooting him a foul look.

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

"I wasn't!" So was.

Merlin stepped forward, already working on the more familiar armor to remove.

[bitchprince]

"Of course you weren't," Arthur said, pointedly, and kept his arm still so Merlin could get to it.

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

"How on earth did you get into this without help?" Merlin asked, running his fingers over the edge of the spandex on Arthur's neck.

[bitchprince]

"By being competent," he shot back, "But the material is like a vice. I'm not entirely sure Edna isn't related to Yzma - they both share a sense of cruelty."

Not. Supposed to cling to. His arse. Like that.

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

"I could leave you alone to do this," Merlin informed him, even though he was working on the rest of the armor.

And not noticing any arses.

At all.

[bitchprince]

"No, you wouldn't," Arthur muttered, shooting him another look. Not a capital-L look. Just a look.

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

"No, I wouldn't," Merlin admitted. The armor actually didn't take that long to remove, it was more procrastinating before... the rest.

But even that didn't last long enough for his taste.

"How--how does it connect?"

[bitchprince]

"There's... some kind of hole, somewhere. And a zipper." Which he couldn't reach.

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

A zipper...?

Merlin ran his hand across Arthur's shoulders, feeling for the--"Ah-ha!"

[bitchprince]

"I take that to mean you actually managed to find it," Arthur said, dryly. "Get on with it." He wondered, once again, how in hell's name this fabric could withstand projectiles being shot at it.

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

Moving behind him, Merlin made a frustrated noise. "It's very tight."

[withoutverona]

Romeo didn't want to mock Arthur's fashion show performance ... and, oddly enough, that line of narrative was even true. Given how absurd the whole thing was, he hadn't acquitted himself too badly.

He was, however, acutely aware that he was down to his last few days in Fandom. And the packing he had to do was just going to make him think about that, so he went to see if anyone worth talking to was around.

Hence, tapping on Arthur's door.

[bitchprince]

Considering that he considered himself well worth talking to, Arthur was more than happy to respond with an "Enter."

It might have even sounded cheerful, on account of the fact that he no longer felt like he was covered by a particularly tenacious coat of mud.

[withoutverona]

"I'm glad you're around," Romeo said, slipping through the door with a slight smile. "And no, I've not been drinking again. If I look at one more box of my things while I pack I'll go mad."

Packing should have been Balthasar's job, anyhow. Stupid lack of a manservant.

[bitchprince]

Packing really was a bother without your manservant, wasn't it? Not that Arthur had any intention of winding up in that particular situation. He had a sword ready if there was ever any danger of it, and all.

"That would be quite a feat," Arthur replied, "Considering you've survived how many years of Fandom...?"

He gestured magnanimously at Leto's bed. Hey, if he wasn't there, there was no reason someone couldn't be seated there.

[withoutverona]

Romeo plopped down, leaning back on his hands without too much regard for mussing Leto's bedclothes. Poor Leto. "Eighteen months -- I came in in the middle of my third year, as you did. But that would be tragic, wouldn't it? To make it past everything else, and then get driven round the bend by cutting myself on packing materials."

That had only happened once! (The cutting. Not the going crazy.)

[bitchprince]

"I do hear cuts gained from parchment can slay any man of weakened constitution," Arthur said, sounding more amused than anything else. "You'd best keep a look out for that. I'm sure your Dojima won't take kindly to dealing with you if you wind up foaming at the mouth and spouting gibberish."

[withoutverona]

Really, there was only one possible answer to that. Romeo laughed and tossed one of Leto's pillows in Arthur's direction. "Don't make assumptions about the lady's tastes."

[bitchprince]

Arthur was by now far too acquainted by the speed, shape and trajectory of a pillow thrown from Leto's bed, so he ducked, leaving it to bounce helplessly off his... shoulder.

Okay, perhaps still not acquainted enough. "Watch it," he called, "I really don't need an excuse to trounce you again."

[withoutverona]

"I wasn't aware I'd ever given you any excuse," Romeo said with exaggerated innocence. "I'll have to work harder."

[bitchprince]

"You do that," Arthur told him, nodding along, "I'll see you when you've mastered it. In about... ten years? Twenty? How long does awareness take in your family?"

[withoutverona]

"Montagues," Romeo told him mock-haughtily and with a smirk. "are aware from the cradle. We just don't concentrate it on people trying to kill us, like you Pendragons."

[bitchprince]

Romeo had no idea how close to home that assessment of Arthur's family came, but Arthur wasn't one to flinch at a joke like that. "There's your problem, then."

And why, look, Leto's pillow was being hurtled back at Romeo with deadly accuracy.