𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙘𝙮𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙄'𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨.... • 21+, AU, multi-fandom • ships w/ chem • 10+ years exp.

Glad you agree. [with a firm nod, he finishes his drink and looks pointedly at Porsche, too used to the male filling up his drinks for him to actually move to make himself a drink now]

[The physical contact, invasion of his private space, was getting a little to much for him, if he was being honest. Shrugging the male off of him, he huffs] I can walk myself. Don’t need you clinging to me. Just lead the way.

[a frown forms now, and he shakes his head. How had he agreed to go out for a meal with a person whose name he didn’t even know?] You did not. Don’t think you offered up your name either.

We could go now to see who is right, if you’d like. If that would get you to quit pouting about it. [He raises his brows at the male, trying his best to keep a straight face and sound like he believed the other when he said he wouldn’t be as bad as Rowan thought he would be.]

[He lets out a chuckle and stands up himself, obviously not needing any help from pouty Porsche, a name he was going to file away for later use.] Okay, fine. Let’s go then.

I think it’s quite a talent I’ve nurtured, don’t you? [He grins, scooping up his glass almost as soon as it’s filled up]

[hops onto 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙧.’s back and koala-clings]

[settling his face against the other’s shoulder, he lets out a grunt in response] How drunk are /you/?

Sober is no fuuuuunnnnnnn. [he huffs, right into Porsche’s ear because that’s just something he does now]

I got you, I don’t need no therapy. [he’s still clinging hard and fast, dragging the other down onto the bed with him]

I’ll make do with just you. You and booze and no therapy needed. [He still has his face buried in the other’s shoulder, a drunken grin settling on his face as he mumbles his words]

[His arms automatically move to grab a hold of Porsche and tug him closer, his tongue sticking out at the other’s comment] This is the best you’re going to get from me. Nicest I’m going to be. And my liver is fiiiiiiiine, thank you.

Pfft. Why’d I bother any partner of mine if I’ve got you to handle me? [He tries to roll his eyes, he really does, but he only manages to pull a funny face.]

[he huffs, his eyes closing just a little at the relaxing massage he was getting] That’s their problem, not mine. Hot bartender friend trumps some partner, any time.

I don’t care, honestly. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. [He still lets out a huff, almost pouting at Porsche because that’s just how shamelessly drunk he is at this point.]

For now? [he quirks his brows, his face scrunching up as he tries to reach up and prod the other’s nose. His body was not cooperating.] You’re not going anywhere. You got me drunk, you deal with the hangover.

[Flops on top of 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙧.]

[Flops on top of 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙧., determined to be seated here for the rest of his miserable, endless existence.]