when we drink we do it right getting slizzard

[perfectus]

Who| Sergius and Calendius, open to crashing from other Capitolites of a certain ilk.
What| Clubbing.
Where| The Capitol's hottest club: ¿ǩevin?
When| The night of Leonidas' arrival.
Warnings/Notes| This club has everything, trance, stilts, throw-up music, ferbies, furkles. Also Sergius is a ratchet bitch so there will probably be swearing. Heads up.



Leo wasn't under his skin, at least that's what he told himself. Really, it was just that he and Sergius were overdue for this. They'd gone out together often enough prior to the asshole dropping him to move off to the middle of nowhere chasing some guy, and this was just picking things up again, business as usual. Cal's interest in forcibly sublimating his frustrations into dance and the uhn tiss of what could barely be defined as music.

"Let's go," was all he'd said by way of greeting to his friend before they'd sped of the luxury car Calendius had borrowed several weeks ago from his family's home. The valet had seemed overly pleased to take the keys away from him. Cal's only hope was that Adrastea had decided to take a night off from the party scene.

Comments

[sergius]

It had been far too long since Sergius had been out to one of the sizzling Capitol night spots. In his early twenties, he was a frequent fixture, schmoozing his way in when he couldn't afford the cover fee (or bumming off Cal) but it had been a good three years or so since he truly got his fix of partying. They just didn't have shit like ¿ǩevin? back in District One, that was for damn sure. Sure there were occasion excuses to get together and dance and stuff, but there was nothing excessive like what could be found in the Capitol. Nothing so flashy and over the top, and certainly no furkles.

"Fuck yeah." Sergius grinned, sliding out of the passenger door of Cal's expensive car. He was ready to party, flirt, and get hella drunk without the watchful eye of Valerius judging his every move. Not that he didn't appreciate it or whatever. Sometimes a guy just had to cut loose and live a little. "I'm so ready for this shit."

[perfectus]

"Good." Calendius nodded once, the terseness typical of him even in better spirits. He smiled at the bouncer as they passed through the entrance, perfect teeth matching his oversized diamond stud earrings. He wasn't a fixture of the club scene, per se, but Calendius had had enough involvement to gain a certain notariey. It breezing by entries easy enough. It also probably didn't help that he and Sergius were among the more attractive people pushing their way in and were both either well or fashionably dressed.

Once inside, Cal grabbed Sergius' forearm, pushing and dragging them both through the throngs of people shuffling vaguely to the beat. He couldn't call it dancing, not exactly. It was more like a a controlled, rhythmic convulsion. At any rate, it wasn't what Cal was going for. Not yet, anyway.

"Drinks?" He inquired loudly over the rush of the music. He turned around when he spoke, making sure that Sergius could catch both his voice and the shape of the word on his lips. With all the noise in the club, lipreading suddenly seemed like a completely logical and necessary form of communication.

[sergius]

Sergius nodded, unable to precisely hear anything over the loud and pressing strains of DJ Baby Bok Choy's droning beats. It was almost deafening at times, but it was worth it for a night out on the town, especially now that he'd secured his spot as the most important escort of the all. He was basically famous now, so he should probably act like it a little.

"Order a fucking... uh... a screaming orgasm. I had one of those once. Shit was for real." He said, giving Cal a thumbs up.

[perfectus]

"That sounds fake," Cal replied, leveling Sergius with a flat look. He didn't much care to be trifled with at the moment and wouldn't suffer one of Sergius' ridiculous practical jokes without at least putting up a fight about it. If he were destined to be made a fool of, it would come with no small amount of effort on his friend's part.

They reached the bar quickly enough, all things considered, making good time through the sea of bodies in glitter, mesh, and lace around them. By contrast, Cal realised abruptly, he was dressed conservatively. At some point, without noticing it, he'd gone respectable. It was weird. Unfortunately, he still had no idea what to order. "What's a normal cocktail? Nothing stupid sounding."

[sergius]

He very nearly countered that Cal sounds fake, but thought better of it at the last moment. A screaming orgasm was too good for Calendius Rey. Too fruity, to be honest. Or maybe not fruity enough. His bro needed something to get him shitfaced, and quickly. He elbowed past Cal and made himself at home at the bar.

"I'll have a screaming orgasm," he said to the bartender, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. The flashing lights of the club gave him a vaguely sinister aura. Sergius looked awesome. "And he'll have sex with an alligator."

[perfectus]

Sex with an alligator. It wasn't like Calendius' jaw fell open or anything. No, he was mostly completely cool with what he'd heard over the music. Mostly.

Distractedly, he watched the bartender work, pouring strange colored liquids from even more strangely shaped bottles. It wasn't like he hadn't seen this stuff before or anything. God knows Adrastea's liquor cabinet was perpetually stocked. But it was different under the colored lights of the club that pulsed to the beat of whatever definition of music DJ Baby Bok Choy was spinning somewhere behind them. Finally, his drink was shoved out in front of him, slid across the smooth surface of the bar on a tiny paper napkin. The liquid was read and green and red again, and looked somehow thick. Cal would kill Sergius if he'd ordered him something full of unhealthy artificial flavorings and high fructose corn syrup.

"What's in it?" He eyed the glass wearily, handing off his credit card so that they could have a tab going. "It looks apple-y."

[sergius]

Sergius responded with a shrug and a mumbled 'I dunno', preferring instead to get well acquainted with his own fruity drink. "Just try it, you'll like it."

He would, meanwhile, nurse away at the screaming orgasm and at least act like he was having a good time. He was, mostly. The problem was, every so often he'd be hit squarely in the gut with a reminder that Val wasn't there with them having fun too. Not that Val would ever set foot in a place like ¿ǩevin?. Val didn't drink. He didn't like loud noises. He was a homebody. And after a couple of years spending every night at home with him... well, let's just say Sergius was kind of almost regretting not staying home with Val. But only a little.

Unfortunately, his expression seemed to follow his train of thought. Sergius looked bummed, to say the least. And not even a merry band of furkles gyrating on the bar could distract him from the heaviness of his heart. He fucking missed Valerius.

[perfectus]

He sniffed at the drink before deigning to take a sip. Fortunately or unfortunately, the entire exercise prevented Calendius from observing the range of emotions dancing across Sergius' face. He didn't mean to be a bad friend or inattentive, it was just that literally everything about their environment was built to be as distracting as possible. And also he had a very complicated drink shoved into his face and it required a wholehearted investigation. Cal may have told Sergius to order for him, but he did retain a few healthy misgivings about dumping just anything into his body. Tentatively, he took a small sip.

"Raspberry? Yeah-- Raspberry." Raspberry and something he couldn't place yet and, of course, the burn of alcohol. It was almost reminiscent of the nail polish remover smell that sometimes clung to Adrastea's bedroom when he was younger, but not quite. Abruptly, he downed the drink almost in its entirety. It was good enough, fruity, but the smell associated with it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Order me something else next time. Something less girly, you've had your fun."

[sergius]

"Damn, bitch, calm down." Sergius shook his head, unamused. "Hold your slutty little horses. I'll be back in a minute."

With that, he forced the screaming orgasm into Calendius' hand and made his way back to the bar where the lovely Sofia fixed him two more drinks. He returned to his friend's side a few minutes later to offer Cal a tall glass with electric blue liquid mixed with a bunch of other stuff.

"This is a trashcan. This shit's the bomb." Sergius raised his eyebrows, to egg him on. "Go on, try it."

[perfectus]

Cal looked apprehensively from the one glass in his hand to the other, eventually setting the screaming orgasm down on a nearby table. He considered inquiring as to what, exactly, was the freaky looking blue stuff in the glass, but decided against it. With a name like trash can, he probably didn't want to know.

Why did cocktails all have such weird names? He took a sip, glancing furtively at Sergius over the rim of the glass. And why did they all taste awful? Wasn't the point of a mixed drink to actually make alcohol less gross?

"This is disgusting. It tastes like she just dumped half the bar into it with looking." He took another, larger sip. It burned on the way down. "What's the blue stuff? Glass cleaner? You didn't order this for yourself, right?"

[sergius]

"It's liquor," he snorted, swigging his own drink. The stuff tasted rancid, but everyone knows that the point of drinking isn't to enjoy the taste, it's to get hammered. "Now quit bitching and drink up."

With that, Sergius pounded back the remainder of his trash can and left the empty glass on the table beside Cal's abandoned screaming orgasm, which he then helped himself to. Waste was generally the name of the game in the Capitol, but Sergius didn't much care for leaving leftovers, especially in the form of alcoholic beverages. Why waste a perfectly good cocktail.

Being a tall, well proportioned individual, he could more or less handle his liquor. But that didn't mean it wouldn't loosen up his lips. Now three drinks in in a rapid succession, Sergius was willing to speak his mind even more forcefully than usual. "I wish Val was here. Fuck."