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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Isn't that sad?" He sighs and pushes back the shot glasses. "I'm done for now."

"Well there's also meeting new people. Not being dead." The small things. He finishes his shot, tops off his pyramid, and props is chin on his hand, face tilted to North. "S'a good idea."

"Yeah." He sighs and orders a glass of water. Just to be responsible and all that.

York, being less responsible and having less shame, does no such thing. In fact he's got so little shame that he lets himself slump more into North's space, tipping until he's pretty much leaning on the taller man.

You know, normal for an average night drinking out. If anything the fact he hasn't been leaning on North before this is abnormal.

He has no idea why but that's getting all over North's nerves tonight. He's been dealing with the fact that their legs are locked together but this is getting to be a little much.

"Sit up, York," he says firmly.

"Mm?" Sit up? Sit up. Okay. He pushes himself back upright, elbow knocking against Norths' ribs on accident with a mumbled 'my bad' as he leans back against the bar instead. There.

He's up!

Mostly.

North's feeling a little loosey-goosey himself but he's not draping himself all over the bar and his friend. "Get a glass of water, York. You're going to end up getting sick."

"I like to earn my hangovers." Seriously. He's had more in less time and been alright. Casbah, for one. Ukraine for two. Maybe those aren't the BEST examples but those are the first to come to mind. "I'll be fine."

"You know, you're getting old enough, maybe it's better to avoid a hangover in the first place."

"I thought the point of tonight was to drink and hang out and not worry about little things. I distinctly remember that being the point of coming out tonight." Just putting that out there. It'd been North's idea in the first place. "Giving me shit about how I choose to do that's kind of a dick move, dude."

"Not worrying was a bullshit premise, because it didn't happen. And I only said something because you're trying to use me as a mattress. Cool it until we get home."

"..." The fuck? York pulls himself upright, brows drawing down, jaw locking up. "The hell crawled up your ass and died?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't put it on me, York, I'm just trying to look out for you." That's what he gets for caring, huh.

"Which I do appreciate. Not the implication that I'm a child, though. That I can do without." He's a grown ass man. He knows how to drink. Jesus.

"That's not what I was implying, but so be it." Maybe it was time for both of them to show a little decorum when it came to going out on the town.

"The hell was 'you're getting old enough' about then, if not some kinda implication of juvenile behavior?" Heh. He can still say multisyllabic words. He is so far from trashed. Tipsy yes, Drunk, no.

"I'm talking about time and place, here." He rubbed his forehead with his thumb. "I don't know. It just seems like we're beyond that kind of crap."

"Age is relative. Not that I'll ever really get a feel for that." Perpetually thirty something, not even in a hole in the ground. Blown to hell.

Fun times.

"We're in a bar on New Year's eve. When or where should we be?"

"All I'm asking is for you not to drape yourself all over me in a bar. Simple as that."

"Alright then.I will stop doing that." He even unhooks his leg from North's bar stool and plants it on the rung of his own. There. No touching. Jesus.

Oh, what was that he was saying about moderation? It doesn't seem to matter because now with his irritation with York he decides to order a rum and coke. Yeah. That should help soothe his crabbiness. He takes a drink of his water before starting in on it.

What happened to being done? It's not straight shots so it must be alright- so. Rum and coke for North, York taps the bar for a bit of his favorite. LIquid sunshine. That'll save the night.

"What's that?" he asks after hearing the name of the drink York orders. The tone is sort of begrudging, as though he had to decide whether satisfying his curiosity was worth speaking.

Grumpy North is in full force already. Damn. usually he has to fuck up hardcore to get that. He shrugs and tips, tipping his head back to blow a citrusy smoke ring. "Liquid sunshine. I don't know what's in it or how they make it but it tastes a little like honey, a lot like citrus, and a whole lot like love. It fizzes and smokes, see? Like a hookah."

"Yeah, I see." He sips thoughtfully at his drink and once it's through he orders a liquid sunshine for himself.

And he's starting to outpace what that glass of water can do to help him avoid becoming entirely inebriated. He frowns over at York. "We just walking home when we're done?"

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)

Action | Day 139 (New Year's Eve)