A little quickie that's been sitting in my archives for a while. :)

"I'm not doing it Kirstie," Mitch says, shaking his head fast once he sees the package his friend is holding in her hands. "No."

Kirstie just tosses it to him and smirks, "I'll be your tinkerbell."

"So old. This joke is literally so old."

"Yeah, well, I'm not creative," Kirstie sighs, "besides, you'd make a great Peter Pan."  She flops down next to Mitch on their couch, staring blankly at the t.v. screen like she always does after coming home from bar-tending, and then scrunches up her face. "Or superheroes," she thinks out loud.

"Whose party is this again? Adam?"

"Avi, who works at the bar with me. He said he'd have lots of his friends there too."

"Friends? What, did you tell him I'm some lonely gay boy so he's bringing an army?""

"Yes." Mitch knows Kirstie well enough to know the difference between her telling the truth and her heavy sarcasm, and unfortunately, she's serious. "There's a boy he wants you to meet."

"I'm not hopeless," Mitch mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, yeah, you kinda are," Kirstie deadpans, before changing the channel to find something other than cartoons to watch. "But it's okay, I love you anyway. So are you coming or what?"

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow."

"I'm not Peter Pan."

Kirstie just puts on a sly smirk, "You'll always be, inside."

"And I don't want to be set up."

"Yeah yeah." Kirstie already knows she's won and has therefore lost all interest in the conversation, as per usual. "Oh, and his name is Scott."

"Kirstie."

"I'm just saying." She raises her hands up defensively.

Mitch takes the Peter Pan costume and throws it in the trash on the way to his room. If he's going, he's dressing as whoever he wants.

-------

"Mitch?" Hi, I'm Avi, Kirstie's friend." A large hand reaches over the bar, rented out for the night, and grasps Mitch's hand with a kind shake. "Nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you from-"

"From Kirstie, yeah. Sorry about that, she never shuts up sometimes." Mitch smiles, filing away in his brain for later that Avi is actually gorgeous and no wonder Kirstie went all out for the party tonight. He has to use that against her in the near future for sure.

"You want something to drink?" Avi asks, putting his hands on the counter and glancing briefly toward the bathroom where Kirstie has just disappeared. Mitch can't help but feel like being a little more kind toward Avi.

"Just a martini, thanks."

Avi reaches under the counter and pulls out a glass. Grabbing what he needs to quickly serve Mitch his drink.

"Thanks." Just as he takes a sip, he feels a presence beside him, and watches Avi stiffen a little and adjust his shirt, causing Mitch to nearly laugh. "Hi Kirstie," he says,  not even looking.

Kirstie just clamps a hand on his shoulder and shakes it. "Peter Pan, where's your costume? I'm not as fond of this goth girl business you've got going on."

It's a pretty lame ass costume really, Mitch has to be honest. It's just clothes that he would normally wear on any given day, just with some added black makeup around the eyes, so, not really a costume

Kirstie, however, really wasn't lying about the whole Tinkerbell thing. She had a blonde, pixie cut wig on, a small, tight, green strapless dress with heels, and enough glitter on her body to be a disco ball.

There's a boy who's just appeared to her left, Mitch notices, who's hanging back in what might be a prison get up, waiting for a seat at the bar. But then he's got suspenders and white gloves and Mitch just notices the pale white paint on his face, some of which looks to be stuck in his blonde hair.

"Mime," Mitch says out loud once he figures the costume out. The boy looks at him when he hears that and does the 'a-ok' hand thing, and Mitch laughs. He half noticies Avi do an almighty eye roll. "And my costume is not that shitty, Kirstie." Then he goes back to staring at mime boy, who is still determinedly keeping his mouth shut. Mitch almost wants to laugh because if anything, the boy looks like he's proud of that fact.

Except, he's looking pretty ridiculous actually, Mitch thinks. His lips are painted with a small splotch of red that shouldn't remind him of Queen Amidala but totally does, and there are a couple dots of black paint down his cheeks. If he were to blush under Mitch's inquiring gaze, the paint would be too thick to tell. "Hi," Mitch says, raising a hand in a wave.

The boy just looks at him and then starts doing the stuck in a box move. Mitch has to take another sip of his drink and shake his head.

"Anyway," Mitch can hear Kirstie saying to Avi, leaning over the bar, "You need help? The place is starting to fill up."

Mitch watches with a smirk as Avi nods like it's whatever, even though it totally isn't. "Yeah, yeah, cool. Thanks Kirst." And then Kirstie winks at him and he scrunches up his face in a squinty, pretty smile, and damn, Mitch needs to learn how to do that. He feels mime boy sit down next to him, so he turns to look.

He's got a very strong jawline, the first thing Mitch notices from just his profile. His lips are a lot nicer without seeing the messily drawn lipstick, though Mitch could tell it had taken him quite a while to do it.

Okay, so maybe coming wasn't such a bad idea.

He kind of hopes Kirstie forgets about setting him up with that Scott guy because he'd much rather stay here with the awkwardly cute mime boy instead. He clears his throat.

It's when the boy finally looks at him, up close enough for  Mitch to not only notice that his big pretty eyes are blue, but also the brightest blue he'd ever seen. Mitch feels a flutter of actual nervousness.

"You..you a friend of Avi's then?" He asks, barely managing to not trip over his words. His grip is a bit tight on his glas as the boy nods quickly, keeping up with his charade, his bright blue eyes never leaving Mitch's. There's a hint of a grin there too. Mitch will not accept this.

"I know Kirstie, obviously. You know her?"

The boy hesitates, then shrugs his shoulders and does some movement with his gloved hand that Mitch takes it to mean 'more or less.'

"Is my costume really that bad?" Mitch asks quickly. He watches as a smile grows on the boys face and okay, he has the most perfect teeth and smile. He's definitely hoping he doesn't meet this Scott guy now.

The mime boy refrains himself from laughing, however, and instead brings his  hands down to his lap to twiddle his thumbs, cocking his head to look Mitch up and down. Then he shakes his head. His blonde hair kind of goes everywhere, falling down from the messy quiff, and for a moment, his eyes are covered, and Mitch can hear the exhale of breath that is the boy trying to blow his hair out of his face.

Mitch has to physically stop himself from reaching over to fix it, instead taking a large sip of his martini which, somehow, is already more than half gone. He asks the mime boy if he's going to get something to drink too and he thinks for a minute, his knee accidentally brushing against Mitch's as he swivels his stool a bit, nodding his head.

And then he fucking takes Mitch's drink from his hands, takes an eager gulp and then hands it right back.

Mitch stops. His mouth hangs open. No one can drink his drink. But then he looks down at the rim of the glass and there's a smudged stain of his lipstick around the edge, and the boy is still next to him with squinty happy eyes and his knee is still against Mitch's and, okay, maybe it's not that bad.

He looks up from his glass to see the boy gazing at him from beneath his eyelashes, his laughter fading into actual concern because Mitch has still not changed his face from the gaping open mouth expression. The concern then fades into a small puppy pout, which is inexplicably cute and Mitch thinks maybe is he keeps this offended look on his face, the boy's lips will start pouting enough that he can accidentally fall forward and reach them.

Instead, he shakes his head and keeps up the charade of being offended. If the boy can mime being in a damn box, then Mitch can fake being angry.

"I can't believe you would do that," he says, frowning. He places his glass on the table and crosses his arms. "You're actually a horrible person."

He sees from the corner of his eye the boy is shaking his head back and forth, looking more and more worried and more and more frantic.

"You'll have to make it up to me," Mitch says, swiveling his stool just a bit so they're facing each other again, their knees knocking enough for Mitch to be momentarily distracted by the butterflies flying in his stomach. "You want to make it up to me?" Slowly, Mitch leans forward until his mouth is quite close to the boy's lips, and he's looking straight at him, and mime boy is now nodding his head unashamedly.

Mitch glances up at him and moves past his mouth, accidentally grazing his nose against the boy's cheek. He's sure he'll have paint on his face for that, but he finds he quite likes that thought actually. He can feel the boy's breath quicken as he whispers in his ear. "Tell me your name," Mitch breathes, before pulling back to he can look at him.

The mime boy's eyes are blown wide, and Mitch's mouth is so close to his own that he can see the boy's lips actually purse slightly, as if preparing for Mitch to just get on with it and kiss him.

Well.

Mitch puts a gentle hand on the boy's neck before flicking his eyes down to his lips and plunging, licking the boy's bottom lip and opening his mouth enough to completely stutter the boy's breathing, before the blonde is kissing back. There's a quiet groan in the back of mime boy's throat, and that sound reminds Mitch of why he's just flicked his tongue in his mouth in the first place. He nibbles the boy's lip softly and then pulls back again, smiling as the boy tries to follow him, his hand still gently holding the back of his neck. "What's your name?" He breathes again, slightly out of breath.

The boy looks so overwhelmed that he can't stop himself as the word stumbles off his tongue. "Scott," he gasps, breathing heavily before leaning forward to catch his lips on Mitch's again. But as much as he wants to, Mitch can't. He pulls back and starts laughing.

"Scott," is all he says.

The mime boy, who now he supposes he should call by his real name, frowns and looks at him. "Something funny?" But Mitch just shakes his head and places a hand on the boy's thigh as he leans forward to kiss him again, lingering enough so that it looks like Scott's forgotten they were even talking, when Mitch starts again.

"Of course you're Scott, why wouldn't you be."

There's a beat before Scott seems to get it, his now smudged lips dropping into a small 'oh.' "Mitch?"

"Kirstie-"

"Avi Probably-"

"Yeah," Mitch laughs hard, scrunching his eyes up until he can't see, and then shakes his head. "Can we start this again? Hi, I'm Mitch. I'm your blind date apparently."

"Scott. I get way too excited about costume parties."

"Nice to meet you Scott."

"Nice to meet you too, Mitch."