thewildone | Log; Open; Ongoing;

Log; Open; Ongoing;

When; October 16th, evening
Rating; PG-13, possibly R in certain threads
Characters; Time Bomb, friends, guests of friends, random people Curt ran into on the street, and party crashers
Summary; Rain or shine--or total lack of shine--the album release party is going forward.
Log;Curt probably could have managed to throw a larger party, but he didn't really want one, and the half of the bar they've rented out is filling up fast enough as it is. He's gone for his shiny silver pants tonight, because it is a celebration, and a romantically flowing white shirt because that covers up the bandages on his arms. Tonight is a night for many people to get very drunk and listen to the album many times. If there's some use and abuse of newly acquired superpowers along the way, so be it. (It is secretly Curt's birthday too.)

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[Curt places peanut on the bar and holds his fingers to his temples in a needlessly dramatic fashion. A moment later the peanut bursts with a small flash and a popping noise, the remains burning for a moment longer.]

Ta da!

[Dramatic slow-motion clapping. You has it now.]

I am Curt, destroyer of legumes.

[Curt casually pulls out a pocket knife--from his shoe, there's not exactly room for pockets in these pants--and turns away a little to make a small slice across his palm.]

[Stephen practically chokes again. His hand whips out without even meaning it to and grabs a firm hold on Curt's wrist.]

Dude, what are you doing?

[Curt attempts to twist away.]

Hold on, there has to be blood. Not a lot, I mean, it wasn't a very large peanut.

[So not letting go right now.]

It's making you i>cut yourself? Jesus Christ, Curt.

[He grabs a wad of napkins and presses them into his palm.]

It's not a big deal. Keeps me from blowing up too much stuff.

[Curt sounds annoyed, but does keep still.]

Will you let me go so I can put a band-aid on?

But you managed enough yesterday to get this.

[His hand moves from Curt's wrist to wrap gently around his arm, where he remembers the bandage being from yesterday.]

Well, blowing shit up is kinda hard to resist. But I am resisting, mostly, now.

[He is trying to be reassuring.]

[Stephen rubs a hands slowly over his face.]

And here I was thinking this curse wasn't that bad. You brought a band-aid didn't you? And please tell your arm is the worst of it.

Other shoe. And yeah, it's only my arms.

[Ooops, plural.]

Don't worry about me, it doesn't do any good.

And we both know what good it does when people tell me to stop worrying.

[The worrying comes with the package, Curt. He lifts the napkin off Curt's palm and takes a closer look. The cut wasn't deep, and only a few spots of red are visible on the napkin. Stephen's face relaxes a little and he leans his forehead in against the other man's.]

I don't like the idea of you getting hurt.

I know.

[Curt kisses him briefly.]

Last exploding peanut, I promise.

Thank you.

Hopefully it's just a weekend thing.

I can't imagine it would stick for long, but it's a little weird that it wasn't just yesterday.

Anytime we have curses starting on a Saturday, I always worry about them going on all weekend. It seems to be a theme. Band-aid?

[Curt fishes in his other shoe and pulls out a band-aid. He makes a point of putting on himself even though it's awkward when your hand is where the cut is.]

Yeah, but usually it's the random stuff or the visitors. But I guess there's been plenty of weird stuff that's happened that wasn't really a curse. Like diseases and the harpies.

[Oh yeah, he guesses he can let go now. He drops Curt's hand, and goes for jamming his hands in his back pockets instead.]

Or that 18th century France one. I still have no idea what that was about.

I don't remember that one very well. I think Campbell and I howled at each other and I may have licked some lady?

Sounds likely. I pretty much spent the whole time standing around with trays of champagne.

You should go dance again. I think you're being missed.

Come with me.

[Not that he thinks there's much chance of getting Stephen to dance, and he would like to go soak up more attention, but he also doesn't really want to just leave Stephen here.]

[Yes, it normally takes a drunk Lucy armed with stilettos to get him on the dancefloor. But this is their party, and it's Curt's birthday after all. And well... He holds up a finger.]

For one minute. And I can't promise that I won't injure someone.

[Curt smiles a little smugly.]

You can step on my feet, I don't mind.

You can re-evaluate that opinion when we're finished.

[He laughs anyway as he follows Curt onto the dance floor, hands still jammed in his pockets.]

[Where dancing is concerned, Curt makes up for talent with enthusiasm. He doesn't move to touch Stephen because that would involve not flailing his arms, which is a key part of the process, along with hip-wriggling and bouncing.]

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totallyinaband - 2011-10-19 02:38 (UTC) - Expand

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