Author's note: This is going to be a series of short oneshots recounting the crazy (usually drunken) misadventures surrounding the me-invented NKA friendship and whatever inspires me on textsfromlastnight . com

The Ridiculous Misadventures of NickKelAus

Austin likes to say the three of them are only friends because they're all so fucking hot. Kelly says she only puts up with them because her being seen with them makes every girl, young and old, gymnast or not, insane with envy, which is, evidentially, her true goal in life. In the words of Kelly Parker herself, "Pshh, who needs an Olympic gold when you have your own hate site of whores that are jealous of you? Shannon Doherty would be proud." Nicky doesn't argue with either, but he knows that they all know there's more to it than that.

They met when they were young, before any of them were ever serious about gymnastics and though they grew up in all different places with Kelly in Denver and Nicky in Boulder and Austin living out of a van, they somehow have this lasting connection. Even more surprising, no one has died or lost an arm yet.

-XX-

Would it be a dick move to report the suite next-door for a noise violation? They're singing Bad Romance off-key and I'm not sure if I can allow that.

-XX-

Surprising as it may be, waking up on the floor of Nicky Russo's Denver apartment, missing a shirt and a shoe, isn't so farfetched when it comes to Austin Tucker. He groans and sits up and he sees Nicky and Kelly still asleep on the bed. Austin finds his shirt…on Nicky and Nicky's shirt on Kelly. Austin rubs the back of his head and laughs to himself. The best thing about training in Boulder isn't just the cute gymnasts to flirt with, but getting to see these two again and convincing them to get shitfaced with him on a weekly basis.

Not because he feels like being a jerk, but because he thinks his friend shouldn't sleep in too long, Austin reaches up, takes Nicky by his muscular calf and yanks him until the dark-haired boy falls off the side of the bed and joins him on the floor with a loud thud. Nicky groans. Austin leans back on his hands and laughs even louder this time.

"Thanks," Nicky murmurs angrily. "Thanks for that."

"Top of the morning to you too, Russo," Austin replies. He's had his fair share of rough nights and now hangovers aren't even a problem anymore. Seeing the way Nicky can't do more than stay there on the floor and stare forward like a zombie, he isn't as fortunate. "Now it's the fun part. Waking Kelly."

Austin bounces to his feet and there he sees Kelly Parker asleep on the bed. She's wearing Nicky's simple, white t-shirt like it's a dress. Her dark brown hair is spewed all across the pillows, hiding all, but her lips and chin. She looks so innocent and peaceful, so un-Kelly Parker. Austin entertains the idea of jumping onto the bed and screaming bloody murder, but the last thing he wants is to have to ice his groin when Kelly gets pissed.

"Kelly," Austin whispers. He rolls onto the bed so he's lying parallel to her and he gently combs her hair away from her eyes. "Kelly…that threesome we had with Nick last night was mind-blowing. Britney Spears should have been playing in the background or some shit… Parker, no joke, you are the best I ever had."

Kelly groans.

Austin smirks. "Ready for round seven?"

"I was drunk last night, not brain-dead. No amount of alcohol could get me to do you without you getting tested first, asshole. Save it for someone who actually takes you seriously…like Kaylie Cruz," Kelly croaks. She keeps her eyes closed and snuggles into the nearest pillow.

Austin chuckles. Kelly Parker is still sharp even hung over and barely awake. It's an admirable quality. That's why Kelly Parker can hang with the boys. Sometimes Austin thinks she's way more of a dude than Nicky. Kelly told him that for the entire first month of being in Denver, Nicky brooded and, as Kelly tells it, literally cried over the National Champ. What a wimp.

"Can we not talk about Kaylie Cruz?" Nicky groans from over the side of the bed.

"You know," Kelly murmurs, shifting a bit and yanking a blanket over her petite body. "I just don't understand how you guys get off from thinking about Kaylie Cruz."

Nicky, who comes up to lie on his stomach at the foot of the bed, shakes his head decisively. "We are not talking about this."

"Easy," Austin says, leaning back against the headboard. "She's hot."

Nicky just keeps shaking his head. "Guys, we are not talking about this."

"But, I mean, you've seen her," Kelly says. Her face wrinkles to show her distaste. "She has virtually no boobs, not like gymnasts do besides Keeler. That's one benefit from breaking your back. She has no personality. She dresses like Pepto-Bismol exploded in her closet. She's skinny, like toothpick skinny, like I could probably pick her up and throw her across the room and look at me. Ha, now Lauren Tanner, that cow is a different story."

"You do get that we zone you out like five words into your long speech things, right?" Austin asks.

Kelly sighs. "I just don't get how that gives you a hard on."

Nicky glowers at them both.

"Do you not know the meaning of we are not talking about this?" he asks exasperatingly.

"Nicky's right," Austin says. "It would be so much easier to understand if you were a lesbian, Parker."

"Fat chance," Kelly snorts. "Speaking of lesbians, it's all really vague and I'd rather not remember, but I swear when we got in last night one of your neighbors or someone was blasting that God-awful Lady Gaga song."

"It's fuzzy, but I remember it to," Nicky adds, happy the topic is no longer Kaylie Cruz.

"Yeah," Austin joins in. "You guys seriously don't remember? Pshh, lightweights. It was Bad Romance. That shit is still stuck in my head right now. We totally called management and made a noise complaint."

"Serves them right," Kelly says. "That song is so overplayed."

"Eh, I'd do Lady Gaga," Austin says with a smirk.

Kelly scowls. "You'd do Kaylie Cruz too."

Nicky groans. "Not again…"

-XX-

Last Night…

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance
Rah rah ah-ah-ah!
Ro mah ro-mah-mah
Gaga Ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

Nicky's Denver penthouse apartment is in shambles.

The floor shakes with each note Lady Gaga belts out. A laptop is connected to the surround sound home entertainment system. Nicky, with an uncharacteristically carefree smile, sits back on the couch with a glass of vodka, wearing a gold, Phantom of the Opera mask, petting the house plant beside him. Kelly is standing on the coffee table, wearing a strainer on her head, in a leotard and white leather boots, drunkenly swaying from side to side, "feeling the music." A shirtless Austin is spinning around in circles, belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs, when he slams violently into the wall. Still, it doesn't stop him from singing his heart out, off-key and all.

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

-XX-

When they finally get cleaned up enough to go to the closest IHOP, Nicky finds all these pieces of paper near the front door.

Noise complaint tickets.

That also explains why the play count for Bad Romance on his iTunes is up to 65.

Author's note: Haha I'm a dork. Anyways, I updated the icons/Pants manips on my Photobucket account. So check that out. The link is on my profile. Please review and tell me how not funny I am. A reality check is in order, I feel. LOL

xoxo