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]

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."