What if in first year au they were play fighting and tickling each other but then they broke something (I NEED THEM TO BE CHAOTIC FIRST YEARS PLS)
“Jamil, hey- stop it! Hey- it’s not funny-!” Azul wheezed out, laughs making his words far less effective at trying to actually get Jamil to stop tickling him, “please!- come onnnn- have mercy!”
He did decide to have mercy on him, ceasing his movements for a moment, which was a poor decision on Jamil’s part, because Azul took the opportunity to push him onto his side instead.
Both of them continued to play-fight, abusing Azul’s brand new housewarden room privileges for all it was worth.
Which includes the many, many sleepovers. Really, Azul would love to stay over at Scarabia, but as he had learned, Jamil’s roommates did not like him that much. Jamil had said it was because they seemed jealous of the fact that Jamil had gotten a boyfriend faster than anyone had ever expected, but Azul couldn’t believe that was the only reason. He’d seen how they’d watched him in class… he had his theories. (So did the twins, but they’d always been more wild with their ideas)
”I cant believe you- betrayal of the highest order.” Jamil deadpanned at him, not making much of an effort to sit back up, but gladly pulling Azul down on top of him.
“you’re the one who pulled out the tickling card. I can’t believe you. I didn’t even know that was a thing!”
“What, you don’t have tickling underwater?” Jamil questioned, turning his head towards the Oceanside window.
“No! You land-dwellers are so weird.” Azul finished, sitting up on the side of his bed, “I can’t believe half of the things you guys say.”
Jamil shoved him, playful and noncommittal. “Really? Like what?”
“Like gym! One of your whole class periods is taken up by torture??” He laughed out, exasperated.
“Gym is not ‘torture’, Azul.”
“Yes it is! You’re telling me it’s a requirement to go run around in sweaty clothes for an hour then go back inside, change, and just… go around school like that for the rest of the day?!” Azul’s hands came up to lightly slap him back.
”it’s only torture to you,” Jamil retorted, shoving him onto his back for effect, “not my fault you’re weak.”
Azul stays on his back for a moment, turning his head to look at Jamil for a moment. He’d always thought Jamil’s face was so pretty, full of sharp angles and ‘mean’ features that made his heart swirl. Too bad he had a fight to win.
He swung his other arm behind him, grabbing a pillow before smacking it right across Jamil’s face. Jamil’s face split into a wide grin as he lunged for the pillow in Azul’s hand. They stumbled around for a moment, fighting for control over a pillow as if their weren’t three others on his bed.
The kept fighting, with no real malice behind it, until a pouch crash echoed through the room. Azul’s bottle of ink was spilled across the floor, knocked over from Azul’s legs.
They both scrambled up, Azul blurting out a quick “I’ll get a towel-“ before running off to his bathroom.
“why was your ink pot on your nightstand??” Jamil let out, exasperated as he caught the towel Azul threw at him.
“I was working on a contract last night-“
“in bed?!?”
“Don’t question my methods!”
“This was bound to happen!” He shoved the towel onto the spill.
Azul kneeled down next to him, pulling in Jamil for a quick kiss before sweeping up the glass, “there, do you forgive me now?”
“I’m not mad, ‘Zul, I just don’t think you need to be working so late you’re still writing in bed.”
“…okay,” Azul sighed. He had been working late lately, maybe he should relax a bit more.
He glanced up at the boy next to him. Yeah, maybe he should.
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