SAY SO

@msudaisy

truthfully, jet was a little busy. it was the first time in awhile he’d actually bothered to sit down and open a textbook, and not because he was actually trying to study — who does that shit in 2020? — he was being paid to do his classmate’s thermodynamics midterm project. this was the beauty of being naturally gifted with intelligence, despite the general consensus; everyone in jet’s major knew he could do this shit in his sleep. and that’s why, obviously, he never had to lose sleep over his schoolwork, or rather, ever bother putting any effort into it — because he didn’t need to. 

he’d just begun writing the thesis about developing a liquid monopropellant injector for a high power electrodeless plasma thruster. the feasibility of using a chemical monopropellant for electric propulsion would be investigated, he’d only made it a sentence in before his phone chimed and he groans at the impeccable timing of whoever was behind this incoming message. the dude was paying him good money to write this paper, and now is the time everyone decides to hit him up for marijuana?

he smirks down at the culprit’s message on screen — not who he was expecting to be messaging him now — though not unwelcome. jet wets his lips before he unlocks his phone and pauses for a minute to think over his reply to the request he’s been sent.

@msudory

watching dory be — well, dory — had to be one of the most entertaining things at this halloween party. jet wondered how cold the male must be with only fishnets providing any sort of protection from the chilly autumn evening; perhaps the shots he’d been watching him take over the course of his time near the bobbing for apples table was doing something to help. or maybe he didn’t even need alcohol, because jet was almost certain he’d seen dory waltz on and off set with an array of different companions — so to say — to keep him entertained for awhile. 

after some time, though, jet was gradually beginning to feel himself become... slightly bored. all of his own dates for the night had dwindled off to their own doings: not that jet minded, nor did he care much, but people watching grew too old too quickly.

maybe jet and milo had made an arrangement that neither of them would deal at the halloween party and would put business away for the night. had milo been high when he had agreed to that? maybe, but milo was definitely high now. and maybe he had made a deal or two over the course of the night, but it wasn’t like milo was seeking anyone out himself. it was just a friend or desperate freshman coming up to him last minute, and well, of course milo had stuff on him. he always does. 

what kind of dealer would he be to turn them away in their time of crisis? honestly, milo was just too high to come up with a reason to say no and when the rich kids on campus came waving their money in his face? milo was never going to say no. he also never really took his rivalry with jet all that seriously; it was fun for him more than anything else. 

he doesn’t really even remember their agreement until jet of all people spots him at the end of one of his transactions and suddenly he was being pulled off into a corner where it was just the two of them. “listen, you look hot when you’re annoyed,” milo starts before jet gets to say much, “but this is nothing to get pissy over, alright? i gave him your name before you scared him off. you’re welcome, by the way,” he huffs, but there’s still a lightness in his tone and a smirk soon appears on his face. 

he was stoned and flirting — nothing new for milo. “why’d you come looking for me anyway, hmm? i’m starting to think you have a crush on me…”

in business, jet always sticks to his word — you commit and follow through. something is bad quality? you take the hit and move on. for a man who certainly couldn’t disagree that he thought more with his crotch than with his head, jet knew something about proper business (that, and the van laar equation, but no one ever bothered to realize jet was far smarter than he led on). 

he catches his rival in the act — cute, little milo, his eyes so noticeably red that jet was surprised not a single person had yet to point it out. dealing now wasn’t they had agreed on: jet had stuck to his word the whole night. “i wasn’t looking for you,” jet says then, mentally rolling his eyes as milo’s words play on repeat for the millionth time; crush this, crush that, you like me, lets fuck, blah blah blah. 

jet takes it upon himself to unzip milo’s jacket halfway, reaching into his breast pocket to find a rolled joint inside. he knew him too well to not have anything for himself left over. “thanks,” he smiles before pulling a lighter out of his own pocket and lights the end, taking a long hit and blowing the smoke in the other male’s face. he mirrors the same smirk milo had given him before. “that’s what you get for shady business practices when we had a deal.”

@msutaeyeon

the night was young. at least, that’s what the song playing seemed to allude to — it was, though, and jet was convinced he hadn’t had enough to drink. kirby had gotten lost in the thick of the crowd sometime earlier, but he wasn’t too phased by her disappearance — he knew she’d find her way back to him, eventually.

he stands, instead, alone at some makeshift bar that had been thrown together with a cheap plastic table and sign tacked to a punch bowl that read, free booze! drink me!, to which, obviously — jet indulged. a lot, too, because the male was particularly a heavy weight with alcohol in part due to height and most particularly because he was in the mood to drink a lot tonight.

and now, when he sees taeyeon in her own costume that looked quite similar to the one he’d sworn was pulling off kirby not too long ago, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand. 

fuck — he thinks to himself — tonight really is my lucky night.

he adjusts his own stupid ass collar that had been scratching at his neck all night, suddenly feeling like the room was too hot. “taeyeon,” he calls her over, eyeing her ass when her back was turned before snapping his gaze back to meet her own when she turns her head back around. he smiles when she gets closer, an arm extending outward to welcome her to join standing by his side. he pours her a solo cup of punch and wraps an arm around her shoulder, satisfied by their height difference. “you don’t look drunk enough,” jet states, a matter of fact. he knows she’s still got a long night ahead of her. 

@msukirby

he’d lost his sense a long while ago. jet couldn’t for the life of him remember how many shots he’d taken — obviously too many — but that didn’t mean anything. he could at least remember his own name, his house, what he was supposed to be for halloween — before part of the costume had been forced off his shoulders and discarded mindlessly to the linoleum bathroom floor he’d not so precariously found himself in.

everything about the girl he’d had pressed up against the bathroom stall wall was fucking perfect. he really didn’t bet much on that she was actually going to truly show up dressed as they’d planned, but — fuck — there she was, clad in her skin tight green and black bodysuit that kept the male wrapped around her finger for hours. anything she wanted, he did: another drink? done. dancing together? done. making out in the ba—? alright, that was his idea.

“god,” he breathes between kisses, short and breathless; jet reaches a hand to grab for her ass, supporting her by the bottom of her thighs around his waist to keep her pressed against the wall. he grins at the materials of her costume that makes it hard to hold her steady. “you’re the hottest fucking girl at this whole party,” he breathes lowly before he’s back to using one hand to tug at the spandex of her collar and kissing her neck and behind her ear. this — having her alone — was all he’d wanted all night long. hair askew, mascara smudged from the light perspiration between their shared body heat, pressed so close together in such close quarters. 

it’d be a sin to let any other male get her like this, especially tonight.