tuckercurshaw said: «That looked easier on the telly,»
The hostel was small and dimly lit, thick with the stale smell of cigarette smoke and leaky pipes and a patchwork of that indescribable, individual musk from years of travelers come and gone. Maeko was sitting on the hardwood floor with her legs askew, hair and clothing mussed from the day, with Tucker’s head settled in her lap as he took a hard pull on a freshly rolled spliff.
"Amsterdam has the best spliff, but the accommodation is shite," Tucker said through a cloud of smoke as he absently traced what felt like infinity signs on Maeko’s bare calf, his tone suggesting he’d just solved the mystery of life.
"Agreed," Maeko replied, though her tone was inattentive and her eyes were wide and focused on the flickering screen of the ancient television a few feet away, "But at least it has one of these…uh…what is it?"
"Telly," Tucker replied without hesitation, as if he had known the question before she asked.
"Right, yeah, that…" Maeko said dreamily, running her fingers absently through Tucker’s hair, staring so pointedly at the screen that she hardly paused to blink.
Tucker made a noise that was a cross between a scoff and a snort, causing another puff of smoke to billow out around him. “Yeah, with about ten channels,” he sneered, grabbing the remote and flicking through them idly. Maeko watched carefully, trying to process the rapidly moving images on each channel before they were replaced, when suddenly she saw one that caught her attention—
"Wait, are they—?" she said, shifting forward slightly.
Tucker gave a loud laugh and shot up into a sitting position, regarding the screen with sudden interest and amusement. “I take it back,” he chuckled, tossing the remote to the side in contentment, “If they have a free porn channel, this hostel can’t be that bad.”
Maeko grinned, scooting forward on the wood floor until she was sitting at an unhealthy distance from the television screen, her glassy eyes reflecting the flashing images of a tanned, brawny man and a woman with impossibly large tits fucking in a theatrically steamy shower. Maeko and Tucker watched the scene in absorbed silence for a few minutes before Maeko tilted her head in Tucker’s direction, a suggestive smirk curled onto her lips. “You’re dirty,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Huh?" Tucker replied, peeling his eyes away from the screen and blinking at her several times, uncomprehending.
"Yep. Filthy," she continued with facetious indifference, as if about to deliver the punch line of a joke, "I think we should wash up."
Pax rolled his head on his shoulders absently; his neck felt stiff, and his brain was heavy, and how had he never noticed before how much space his ears took up on the sides of his head? They were on the rooftop of the Astronomy tower, a heavy blanket thrown loosely over Maeko’s shoulders. She sat with her feet braced, knees spread, Tucker snugly fit between them. The glow of Maeko’s cigarette had Tucker mesmerized (or maybe it was Maeko herself, looking darkly glamorous in the last dying rays of sunlight), and all Pax could see was Tucker’s chin as he tipped his head back to watch her. The conversation stalled, and during the lull while Tucker turned his face into Maeko’s hand, Pax’s brain caught up a bit.
“… What?” Pax murmured belatedly, almost a full minute later. And to his credit, Tucker did the same thing. Or Pax thought it was a full minute, but he wasn’t perceiving time very well at the moment. He stalled out, paused there with his thumb and forefinger wrapped around the joint, just shy of his mouth and staring ahead into the netherspace between the stars and the Black Forest.
“Kiss,” Maeko said again, simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world. But her smile was absolutely lascivious. Pax wondered how they’d gotten here (it probably had something to do with Maeko’s gratuitous hair-playing), until his brain supplied something like an explanation that he promptly forgot another minute later, but he figured that if it was good enough for him at the moment, it would probably be good enough for Tucker, too. Tucker, as it were, was draped between Maeko’s knees rather comfortably, her hand moving absentmindedly through his long hair, and he was blushing goofily. Pax immediately melted into that sudden vulnerability—it might have had something to do with the way Tucker’s hair was mussed and the way neither of them quite noticed that they’d been transparently gazing at one another since Maeko had first suggested that Pax and Tucker try making out.