Gilbert
wants
to talk to...to...whoever the hell is on the other end of this drunk-dial he's doing right now.
can talk on the phone and eat at the same time. "Yo!"
can drink and talk on the phone at the same time. Perfect! "H-Hey! Who's uh...who...how *you* doin'?"
pulls his phone away from his ear for a moment, because he totally answered without checking the caller ID. "I'm good-" Hold on, he's taking
another bite of his burger. "'m jus' wa'shing-" Swallow. "TV. Dude, this burger I'm eating is *amazing*."
Gilbert
thinks
for a minute whoever this is must be drunk too, since he's talking weird. He isn't even sure who he called. "Yeah? Wha'fuck you watchin'?-
I got...I got uh...that one show on with the fat guy and the angry kid with the Brit accent. ...burger. Haaah."
isn't drunk, but a beer probably would go well with this. Sam Adams, of course. "Whassa name of it? I'm watchin' Sou's Park." TH-sounds -
are impossible while trying to chew at the same time.
props his feet up on the coffee table, knocking bottles over and probably leaving spills that West will flip over tomorrow. "Uh...Family-
Dude somethin'. ...shit, there's a horse. South Park's good. Pretty funny shit. Hey. *Hey* man. D'you like Call of Duty?"
actually replies on a clear voice this time, since he just finished chugging half his bottle of coke just now. "Yeah! Dude, I kick ass on-
that game *every night*!"
in*]
sits up straight, sloshing booze out of his glass. "We gotta play on Live sometime then! *Shit*, I love that game! I mean I guess I-
shouldn't. But fuck! ...haha, that almost sounded like buttfuck. Wait. Oh. Yeah! We gotta play!"
snickers, but he also forgot he was eating again and ends up with a coughing fit. Brill. "Yeah, dude, anytime! If you're prepared to lose."
usually can't take anything serious when drunk, but this is gaming they're talking about. The very definition of serious business. "Psht-
yeah, right. I'll give ya hell, you watch. ...'ay, who th'fuck did I call?"
finishes the burger in hand and digs into the back beside them for another. "You mean you've been talking to me this whole time and you-
didn't know? Fuck you, dude. S'Alfred."
drains the last of his beer and tosses it into the pile of its friends, snickering. "Naw, fuck *you*. ...but if yer for real Alfred, you're
kinda too far away for that. I'm wasted, man. Lucky I know who *I* am right now."
doesn't respond for immediately; the television is an amazing thing...that is currently distracting him. "...What. No. No, *you*. I said it-
first. Anyway. You should get undrunk and come over here sometime then. There ain't any Wal*Marts there and everyone talks funny, so my-
place is better."
blinks, frowning, and hiccups. "Shit. Need 'nother beer. No, you! Why th'fuck would I need a wall mart? I don't need no fuckin' walls.-
You come out here an' I'll show ya what real beer tastes like. Ain't that watery Miller Coors Bud Lite shit pissbrew, baby."
straightens from his slouched position on his couch. "Whatever. My beer is great. They win those contest things." The tv just said so. -
"You're too far, anyway. And gas is really expensive right now!"
scoffs. "Your beer wins competitions in *your* country. So get on a fuckin' plane!"
"Nah, the commercial said somewhere else too! Like over there somewhere else. I think I have those flier mile things...so maybe."
flings his arms up, spilling the last inch or so of booze in his glass all over the place. "Fuck maybe! Squeeze your ass into those tiny-
seats and get over here."
And if that isn't convincing enough: "Or. Orrr...I'm gonna spread rumors about ya on the internet."
clutches his phone tightly to his ear. You're talking serious shit now. "Like what. You better not. I'll...I'll kick your ass or somethin',-
man." But hey, that threat got him to shove wrappers off of his coffee table so he has a place to set his laptop to look up flight stuff.
Gilbert
is
practically laying stretched between the coffee table and couch now. He just keeps sliding for some reason. "You gonna get your-
fuckin' ass on up here or I'll go on fuckin' *4chan* and it'll be *on*, dude. I'll put naked pictures of ya on /y/. Fuckin' hurry up-
before my buzz wears off, drag-ass."
's voice rises an octave. "You wouldn't! Y-you don't have any, anyhow. Are you planning on drinking during my flight, then?"
paws around the sea of bottles around the couch til he unearths a full bottle of something clear. He's too drunk to read the label-
though. "Mn, bet I know where to get some. Or I'll get ya smashed and take some while you're here. Th'fuck you waitin' on? Look'it, I'll-
buy your motherfuckin' plane ticket if it'll speed this shit up. I got 'bout a bottle left. You better be here before it's gone."
isn't going to turn down a free ticket. "Hurry up and pay for it then. I can tots get to the airport in half an hour. " He turns the-
television off and heads to his room to messily throw together an overnight bag.
Gilbert
has
to get to his wallet first. This requires much rolling and fidgeting, so that when he finally gets the thing out, he's gone from the-
couch to the floor. "You gotta punch th'numbers in ya'self. Imma read 'em off to ya."
goes back to the living room and sits back on the couch so he can lean forward and type on his laptop. "'Kay, dude, I'm ready. Go for it."
rattles off the credit card number and that weird secret number on the back too, interrupting himself once or twice with hiccups. "How long
Gilbert
is
it gonna take ya?"
types everything in, and kind of hoping no one minds if he gets himself a first-class seat. He's too tall to sit in coach! It cramps his -
legs. "It takes *hours*. You're probably better off sleeping this one off and getting drunk again. Or getting more booze."
Gilbert
will
probably end up doing just that. The position he's in on the floor is very conducive to sleeping. But he has had so much that it's just-
as likely that he'll still be drunk when he wakes up, at least mildly so. He mumbles incoherently for a moment, then yawns. "Mn, you gonna
be a pussy and act all tired when you get here, or are you gonna man up and drink with me?
"
grabs anything else he thinks he needs and shoves it all into that bag and starts to make sure lights are turned off and whatnot. Inevitably
a few are missed, which he'll only realise when he returns home. "I'm always manly. So manly you won't be able to keep up with me."
rolls onto his stomach and pulls a half-empty bottle out from under the table. It's difficult to lay flat and drink, but you bet your ass-
he manages it. "Whatever, pussy. Hurry the fuck up."
Alfred
has
made it to his car now and thrown his bag in the front seat. "I *am*. Heading to airport now. Jeeezus."
Gilbert
is
just about to pass out anyway. Good luck understanding him slurring about calling when his plane lands, and the various other things he-
rattles off in a mix of languages.
doesn't attempt to understand him. He just answers everything with 'yeah' and hangs up a moment later. Everything involving the airport is-
routine and boring, as is the flight. Which takes a fucking *eternity*. But he manages to sleep some, and once he arrives and gets to-
customs, he remembers he doesn't speak the language. It's like retard English. With all those dots. Ughhhh. But he has sense enough to -
call Gilbert back now.
wouldn't hear his phone had he not fallen asleep with it cradled between his shoulder and ear. The Culcha Candela song nearly deafens him,-
but it also ensures that he's almost wide awake when he manages to answer it. "...ja."
Alfred
is
standing still in the middle of the lobby like a complete idiot. "So...dude, I'm here. How am I getting to your place?"
Gilbert
needs
a lot longer than a few seconds to figure out who he's talking to and what the hell he's talking *about*. Yeah, it takes awahile, but-
eventually he groans and rolls over, not surprised that the room still spins a bit around him. "Fuckin' cab. " Here, have his address.
doesn't have something to write down the address so he panics but he a moment later he thinks of typing it on the phone after saying a quick
goodbye. And after hailing a cab, he soon gets to the house and bangs on front door. Loudly.
doesn't know if Ludwig's home or not. He must not be - which is weird; he seems to be spending a lot of time out of the house here lately.-
since he doesn't come storming down the stairs shouting about idiots at the door. It's Gilbert that answers, amazingly fully dressed but-
still looking a bit rough, fresh bottle dangling from his fingers. "Took you long enough, fucker."
grins at him, then peeks inside, though he's still going to wait until Gilbert moves to actually step in. "Whatever, man. I'm always right -
on time."
rolls his eyes and turns back for the living room. Probably. He starts walking a direction, and the living room just happens to be-
the direction he slants towards. He has to catch himself once or twice on the wall before making it back to the couch too, via the-
path cut through all the empties. "Dunno what's left out here. There's more in the freezer. I think. Or we might hafta take a booze run.
"
follows after him and just sets his bag wherever. The living room's clearly trashed enough that it doesn't matter in his opinion. He plops-
down on the couch too and leans back. This is comfortable after the long flight. "That's cool. The store far from here?"
takes a drink and hangs onto the bottle, mouthing the top thoughtfully. "Mn, no. Walkin' distance. Had to find one close."
watches him for a moment, then looks around at the walls. "You don't drive? I thought all you guys were for driving. Fucking...Autobahn -
or whatever." Of course, that was completely butchered. He only knows the word from the VW commercials back home anyway.
Gilbert
needs
a moment to respond to that, since he's gotten his tongue stuck in the top of the bottle. It pulls loose with a pop, leaving him with-
a slight lisp when he slurs out a response. "Naw. West won't lemme drive his car."
can't help but snicker when he sees that. "That sucks, dude. The only thing better than driving is flying a plane."
waves the bottle Alfred's direction. Booze is a great way to change subjects, right? Definitely. Of course he flew. His fuckin'-
Reichsmarschall controlled the Luftwaffe. They were goddamn...oh wait. Yeah, he mumbled that right out loud. Those are inside thoughts.-
Nevermind, here's alcohol.
stares at him like he's speaking some alien language. Well, aside from the words that were obviously German. But he's distracted when the-
bottle comes his way. Hey, awesome. He goes to drink some without looking at the label at all. After the coughing fit, he kinda wishes he-
had. What's the proof of that shit?
doesn't know, but he's pretty sure he could use it to create some wicked explosives if he really wanted to. He's gotta get his buzz back-
fast, and you've gotta catch up real fast.
can do that! He'll just hold into this bottle for as long as Gilbert allows him and keep doing shot-sized sips until he can't feel the -
burn down his throat anymore.
doesn't mind sharing that one, since Alfred's so damn sober. He stretches, grasping for the remote, wherever it went. "Oh. You smoke?"
continues working it down, not even getting the alcohol a chance to work through him. "Depends on what kinda smokin'."
watches him drink, half grinning with approval. And here he thought Alfred would puss out on him. "Ain't legal where you're from."
can handle his drinks decently back home, but American stuff tends to not be as potent. "Technically ain't legal for me to drink there too."
takes a larger drink from the bottle and passes it back.
blinks as he takes the bottle. "...was?"
waves his hand. "Based on my appearance and shit. 'Cause the drinkin' age is twenty-one. *I* didn't make that law..."
sort of follows this, but he's never had trouble getting alcohol, so it's sort of hard for him to grasp while he's drunk. "Oh. You don't-
have some kinda ID? ...I meant I got shit if you want it."
"I got an id, but if I can't get anything if I forget it somewhere." He shrugs. That was just his roundabout way of saying there are certain
laws he doesn't abide by, himself. "S'cool wit' me if you wanna."
thought about it a minute, but the longer he sits there, the less appetizing it sounds. "Maybe later."
simply nods and slouches back more. "Whacha been doin lately?"
holds up the bottle and snorts.
grins and looks up at the ceiling. "Lucky."
considers himself extremely lucky to not have responsibilities anymore. Yeah, he doesn't have a nation anymore and technically shouldn't
exist, but that means less paperwork! Hah! Hahaha...ha...yeah. Hello bottle. "It's fuckin' great, 'cept when West gets on my shit."
assumes that's some celebratory drinking right there. He holds his hand out, wanting a turn with it. "That's gotta be a drag. I ain't -
really got no one bossin' me 'cept well...my boss. He's pretty chill sometimes so whatever."
tilts his head back against the couch and watches the television for a moment, eyes half-lidded. Going straight from a long nap to-
drinking again tends to make him sleepy. He'll get over it in a few minutes, just give him time. "Your boss, huh? I keep hearin' about-
your boss. Supposed to be some hotshot smoothtalker, but he isn't gettin' hot reviews here lately."
glances to the television, but since he doesn't understand what's being said, it holds no real interest. "It's all really complicated. But
not worth really talking about in detail. It'd totally kill your buzz."
nods. "Your fuckin' right it would. Shit, thanks for bein' so fuckin' thoughtful. You wanna go through my porn stash?"
's face reddens a little and he directs his gaze to the television. "What, um, kinda porn you got?"
doesn't notice and shrugs. He's too desensitized in general to really notice if his terrible behavior and manners bother people these days.-
"Damn near every kind you can think of, between me an' West."
finds this easier to talk about if he keeps looking at the television. "Oh. I have...Playboy and Penthouse." At least, that's what he-
keeps in somewhat obvious places in his bedroom. Just in case someone he would prefer not to see certain things ends up snooping.
's head rolls to the side, chin resting on his shoulder as he blinks at Alread. "Thas' it? Well fuck, I got that shit. Plain ol'-
skinrags, yeah. got 'em if you're into pussy like that."
fidgets a bit. This conversation is killing whatever buzz he was starting to get. "Well, that's kinda what 'm supposed to like...yanno? I-
do got other stuff, it's just..." Not widely accepted enough for him to be really open.
doesn't realize it or particularly care what Alfred's tastes are. He figures he'll find out of the guy gets really drunk anyway. Who fucking
cares anyway. "S'cool. Whatever." Even better. He doesn't have to give his porn away.
Alfred
is
quiet for a moment before he's distracted himself. "I want more of...that." He grabs at the bottle.
shoves the bottle at him. He's gone right on back into that near-delirious drunk state by this point anyway. It's probably better that-
Alfred keep the fucking thing so he doesn't finish the rest of it and black out.
Alfred
will
hold the bottle close and drink at it until he can't feel anything. The way he keeps at it, that won't take long.
puts his feet back up on the coffee table and burps. "...I should clean up." And then snickers.
leans against the armrest. "Don't your brother do that?"
nods. "But if he comes home 'an all this shit is fuckin'...fuckin'...beer 'splosion all over the living room, he'll have a bitchfit an'-
I won't be able to walk for a couple days. *Again*. Fuckin' 'nnoyin'."
Alfred
is
assuming he only means fighting. "But like, if he comes when you're sober, you could hold your own." He remembers how strong you were...are.
squints at him oddly. "I hold my own just fine no matter what. There just ain't much I can do tied up."
doesn't get it. "You cain't put up a fair fight when you're tied up. Why would he do that?"
smirks. "Punishment. His way."
"....Like what?"
turns around so he's leaning against the couch arm, legs pulled up onto the couch. It's easier to animate this with his hands like that.-
"Like first he gets pissed and smacks me around. Then when I don't go all puss, he ties me up and sometimes he uses stuff on me. Other-
times he just does shit to drive me crazy. Fuckin' torture, man."
still doesn't get it. Mostly because he's not taking it the right way at all. But the expression he's making should make it obvious how-
confused he is. "Oh. That's...not cool?"
should nod and agree, but he's shaking his head instead. This is just such a commonplace thing in their house that it seems totally normal-
"No, it's cool. It's *really* cool. It hurts like a sonofabitch, but that's the fuckin' point. That and gettin' fucked afterward. Ain't-
much of a punishment, 'f'ya ask me."
goes a little scarlet hearing that, because he definitely gets it when it's explained this way. "O-oh. That's...nice, dude." He's going to -
watch the television now.
agrees! It's more than nice, actually, ignoring the chafed-ass feeling.
wouldn't know to ask. But at least he can be distracted enough that he'll forget about this...enlightenment for a while. "Wha's'is show?"
decides that now is a fantastic time to light up a cigarette. This might lead to something else later, but it's just something to do with-
his hands for the moment. "Uh...Bad Girls Club."
watches this for a moment, either not noticing or caring that Gilbert's smoking. "You watch girlie shit like this?"
really likes these cigarettes; they're a spearmint menthol sort of thing. "
Shit, you see that bitch pop the other one? These bitches fight like men."
does find the fighting rather entertaining. "That one right there is like. Fucking crazy."
exhales toward the ceiling. "I know! A bunch of 'em have tattoos too. Fuckin' hot."
"I saw them on that one chick a sec ago, but not the others yet." He'll be watching more closely now.
"They walk around naked a lot. You'll see 'em."
doesn't have to wait that long to see that. And he's just a bit distracted *staring*, even if so much is blurred out.
concentrates on his cigarette for now, only glancing over at Alfred after some other sort of fight. "Like it, huh?"
nods a fraction later. "Yeah. Ain't bad."
"I like 'at Lea bitch."
"She's pretty chill. That blond don't seem that bad."
ashes his cigarette into one of the empty beer bottles. "Not yet. These bitches self-destruct by the end of the fuckin' season."
"Kinda like Big Brother but different?"
shrugs. "Never watched Big Brother."
"Oh. I kinda got bored with it. There's like fourteen million seasons now."
grunts as he snuffs the cigarette out. "You people have too many fuckin' shows."
"Nauh. Never such a thing as too many!"
"Then keep drinkin', pussy."
forgot he had the bottle still, so he'll get to doing that. "'m not a pussy."
"Are too. Fuckin' pussy."
"Am not. Nutin' like one."
goes for another cigarette, but there's a joint in his pack too, so naturally that's where his fingers land. It takes longer to light up-
than a cigarette though. "Fuckin' vagpussy, can't hold your booze."
isn't paying attention to what's being lit up. Getting more of whatever this is into his mouth is. "Fuck you. I can' handre it."
holds his first hit in as long as he can, ghosting it so that when he finally answers, there isn't even a wisp of smoke. "You can't even-
pronounce handle, dick."
"You got a weird accent when you talk."
"Didn't stop ya from understandin' the word pussy, pussy."
finishes off whatever's left in the bottle. "I told you I ain't a pussy."
grins, smoke leaking through the expression. "Whatever you say, badass."
"Damn right whatever I say. This is empty now." He holds the bottle up in a loose grip.
glances at the bottle and lifts a shoulder, shrugging. "Make yourself at home and go check the fuckin' freezer."
manages to get to his feet after a moment and grips the back of the couch. "Where's the kitchen?"
throws his arm up and points off somewhere behind the couch. That general direction, boy, channel Columbus.
eventually makes it to the kitchen by following the walls and grabs the first bottle he sees in the freezer before returning.
locates the remote in the meantime to change channels. He isn't interested in that crazy fucking hair-scapade.
plops down on the couch and focuses on trying to get the bottle open. He doesn't care about the tv just yet.
isn't sure what they're watching anyway. He's just flipping channels, attention primarily on the weed.
drinks from the bottle once he gets the lid off. That took a lot of effort, really, so he's not distracted from that just yet.
really thinks everyone's fair game, especially when he's drunk. And he uses certain things as bait now and then. And yes, he does-
primarily only think about sex sometimes. Can't tell that just by looking at his grin though. Hopefully. "You want a shotgun?"
actually didn't hear him well enough to know what Gilbert said. Too busy drinking and squinting at the television. But rather than asking-
what he said, he acts like he understood all along and shrugs. "I guess."
promptly leans over to give him one. He leans over Alfred's lap, one hand on the couch beside his thigh for support. Obviously he has to-
get near to touching lips with him for this to work.
would have known what was going on had he heard, so he doesn't react quickly at all. Actually, the moment he opens his mouth to ask what-
he's doing, it's far too late to do anything to stop it.
Gilbert
hopes
he handles this better than other people who've done it. The last few people cough it right back in his face. For Chrisssake's, it's not-
like it's cigarette smoke. Yeah, maybe he sits there like that a little too long too. "Good?"
hasn't done this before but he at least sucks the smoke in and holds it for a long moment, then leans back to slowly let it out. He hasn't-
realised that constitutes as a kiss in a way, otherwise he's be acting very awkwardly right now.
"Yeah."
pats his cheek and goes back over to his side. "Glad you didn't puss out."
looks around for that bottle that he seemed to have disappeared for a moment. "Told ya I ain't a pussy."
shrugs. "Okay. You're not a pussy. You're a bitch."
"..What. I am not. I ain't no girl.
"
finishes more than half the joint and sets it in the ashtray. "No. Still a bitch."
frowns a fraction, but only"Why?" momentarily.
whoa, gj keyboard]
*but only momentarily. "Why?"
really hasn't thought this through. He just enjoys getting people riled up. Evidently it isn't working. "...'cause you aren't a pussy."
tosses a throw pillow at him. "Whatever, dude. I ain't. You are."
bats the pillow away and flips him off. "Part time. You're always a bitch."
"Na-uh. You don't know that."
"Do too. I got a thing for that kinda...thing. Gaydar."
takes a big gulp from the newly acquired bottel. "You're fucking wrong, dude."
"Am not. I'm never wrong about this shit."
would feel inclined to prove him wrong, but he's too comfortable here.
flips to one of the late-night movie stations still showing cheesy porn. He stays for a minute then moves on to another. "Fuck 'at-
romance shit."
looks around to see if there's any snacks. "Ya don' like it?" He doesn't really, either.
doesn't have anything in here, but there's plenty in the kitchen. God help you if you spill anything in there. "Fuck no. Man, you-
fuckin' tell somebody somethin' an'...an'...it don't matter. Or it does. But nothin'...it's the same, y'know? *Y'know*?"
Alfred
will
get the sense to look there soon. But for now he squints at him. "Nah...I dunno. Maybe ya should do something to change it yerself?"
throws his hands up, accidentally sending the remote sailing. "Well fuck man, I *tried*! I made it pretty fuckin' obvsivious...ob...that."
doesn't notice until it collides with whatever. "Maybe ya need to do somethin'...knight in shining armourly." Dunno; he simply-
watched Shrek again yesterday. "An' be heroic and shit. Save 'er from running out of beer." This somehow sounds like a good idea.
kicks bottles off the coffee table and sinks lower on the couch. "Ain't a bitch, man. That shit doesn't work so well on dudes. 'specially if
they've been knights in shiny shit before." This is mostly Prussia talking to himself. Enjoy.
isn't going to ask who. "That sucks dude. I dunno know what to tell ya. Maybe ya needta just talk to 'im again?"
snorts. "I don't need to talk about shit. I'm just gonna keep gettin' laid like he does all the fuckin' time. Yeah. Fuck. I'm hungry."
doesn't know what to say to that. "Uh...have fun with that. I'm hungry too." He tries getting off the couch to get food.
Gilbert
thinks
he's doing a better job trying than what he personally could do just *thinking* about trying. "Get me food."
"I ain't your maid." But he heads to the kitchen anyway. Fucking Pringles and Oreos sound awesome right now. Though whatever he-
comes back with depends upon whatever snack foods he finds in the kitchen. He plops down in the middle of the couch rather than where-
he was sitting on the end, and tosses a bag of whatever in Gilbert's lap.
*wishes* there were fucking Pringles and Oreos in that fucking kitchen. If Alfred found his stash, he probably came back with chips.-
If *Ludwig* got to it first, he'd have found some kind of healthy bullshit in its place. "West never keeps any good shit in the house."
Alfred
needs
unhealthy snacks to survive. He'd've brought his whole pantry if he knew. "Why don't you hide it in your room or something?"
snickers. "Cause I'll forget it's there and West will flip a bitch when he finds it.."
half nods in response and digs into the snacks. He can't really taste them either way if it's gross healthy stuff.
"I'll hafeta send you a twinkie carepackage."
hasn't ever had a Twinkie. Bot
Not the kind Alfred's talking about. "...a carepackage? I got all the twink videos I need man. Ugh. Fuck. Are you fuckin' drunk yet? I
think i'm fuckin' drunk." Get any of that through all the slurring? "We need to go out."
doesn't get half of that. He slouches back again and drinks some more. "Yeah. Where we gonna go?"
flops his arms, shrugging. "Dont fuckin' know, man! But we gotta get out of here. It's all...whatever. Killing my groove here. Oppressing.
...haha, help help, I'm bein' repressed! You ever see that movie?"
shrugs. "Can't remember if I have right now, man." He tries standing again, but he's so offbalance he might accidentally fall on Gilbert.
hasn't made any effort to get off the couch yet. In fact, he's yawning at the moment, so he isn't paying attention to whatever Alfred's-
doing.
Alfred
is
going to try his best to stay on his feet, since he'd completely crush Gilbert, but he ultimately fails and struggles to get back up.
would say something, but he's kind of squishing him. It's pretty fucking funny though.
pushes himself off and rolls onto the floor between the coffee table and couch. "Sorry."
leans over to look at him, still laughing. "Fuckin' graceful. Like a big goddamn swan."
swats at him. "'Course I am. Shaddup."
nudges him in the shoulder with his boot. "Hey, while you're down there, get on your knees and help a guy out." He snorts, only half-
serious, since this guy doesn't give off any bromo-overtones.
smacks at his leg for that. He gets the innuendo, but he'll other than that smack he'll act otherwise. "No need. I could prolly pull ya-
to your feet if ya wanna stand so bad."
shoves at him again. "You're fuckin' thick, man. Any beer down there?"
sits up and leans against the coffee table and pushes at his legs. "Whuteva. 'n I didn't see any."
watches him with amusement. "Wha'fuck you tryin' to do?"
"I dunno." That doesn't stop him from keeping at it until he somehow causes the coffee table to scoot back and yet again offset his balance.
tries to grab at him to keep him from hitting his stupid head. He fails pretty terribly and ends up flopping right off the couch into the-
floor as well.
hits the back of his head on the coffee table anyway and rolls onto his side while rubbing the impact spot. "That kinda hurt."
found a beer bottle with a little left in it and gets to drinking that. "Pussy."
looks around for a moment before forcing himself back to a sitting position to reach for the bottle left on the couch. "Dunno why you-
keep saying that. Ain't got one."
sits up - or at least tries to. Cracking his head on the underside of the table puts a stop to that pretty quick and puts him flat on the-
floor, swearing.
snickers, as if he didn't just hit his head on that thing, and nudges him. "You okay?"
rolls onto his back, rubbing his head. "Shit, I'm fine. Not some sissy bitch like you." ...that kind of stung a little. Probably would-
have hurt a lot more if he were sober enough to feel it.
upturns the bottle to drink some more. "Whatever, man. I'm fucking *tough*. Kicking Commie as since...since...whenever." Thinking too hard -
hurts at the moment.
inches his way out from under the table to sit up and swipe that bottle. "Bullshit. I could take your ass in a fight, no problem."
Alfred
will
let him have the bottle in a mo--now. He can stand going without it, so it's fine for now. "No fucking way. I could beat you blindfolded."
tilts the bottle up for a long drink. He wipes his mouth and laughs. "Ya think so? I got a fuckin' blindfold, 'f'yer feelin' bold."
can't turn down a challenge like that. And he's confident enough that he thinks he can still hold his own like that. "Bring it."
blinks, trying to remember just where there's anything that'll work as a blindfold. He has to resort to crawling halfway across the living-
room before he can get on his feet and to the closet. But there was one of Ludwig's black ties in there, so that's what he comes stumbling-
back with and thrusts at Alfred. "Use that."
watches Gilbert for a moment, then scoots the coffee table all the way over so it's against the tv to avoid further head trauma. After, he -
gets to his feet and snatches for the tie and secures his over his eyes. He even positions it where he can't see out of the edges. See, he-
plays fair.
Gilbert
has
to lean heavily against the arm of the couch, but he does manage to stay upright while he waits. He even takes a step away and faces him-
once it appears Alfred's finished. "C'mon. First shot, big man."
Alfred
has
an even harder time standing up with the blindfold on. But even though he's swaying, he still tries taking a shot at him. He figures if he-
falls over without his fist colliding with anything, he missed.
only occasionally fights fair and would have sidestepped that attempted blow entirely. He actually tries to, but the alcohol and drug has-
slowed his coordination down so much that he doesn't move fast enough and takes the punch, stumbling from the force. Once he gets his feet-
back under him, he'll just try returning the gesture.
nearly falls over after landing that blow, but nearly isn't actually doing it. See, he can handle this. Up until Gilbert's fist collides-
with his face. He couldn't very well block that, and ends up stumbling back and inevitably falling over.
isn't going to give him time to get up on his own. He'll just drag Alfred up by the front of his shirt and set him on his feet again.-
"Thought you said you could take me, pussy?"
grabs at Gilbert's wrist and eventually his upper arm in as firm a grip as he can manage. "I can." And since he knows where he is, he'll try
aiming for a punch to the gut.
doubles forward with an '*oof*', almost smacking his chin against Alfred's shoulder. Winding him successfully shuts up the shittalker in-
him for at least another few minutes, so all he can do is try to jam a fist into his ribs.
Alfred
is
put off by that enough that he'll end up causing them both to fall if Gilbert can't support them both. That doesn't stop him from trying to
land another hit on him.
Gilbert
was
doing well to hold himself upright. He can't manage the both of them, so falling and Alfred's hit are enough to catch him up for a moment.
rolls off of Gilbert and lays flat on his back for a moment. He keeps the blindfold off, even though he knows he's liable to give Gilbert-
a free shot.
just gives him a good solid kick in the hip.
curses and rolls onto his side for a moment before trying to kick. Slightly in the wrong direction.
rolls...somewhere. Something hurts, so maybe it was in the direction of Alfred's foot; maybe it was in the direction of the table. Either-
way, he ends up flat on his stomach, cheek against the cool floor. "You suck at drunk fightin'."
takes the blindfold off now and turns to face Gilbert. "Whatever. I was blindfolded and I still owned you."
flips him off. "Keep that shit on. You look better."
tosses it at his face. "Fuck you, dude. Cain't make me."
doesn't bother trying to toss it back or anything. The floor's pretty nice; the room tends to spin when he gets upright. "Fuck yourself."
Alfred
is
relaxed enough that he's not thinking about what he's saying at all and just laughs. "Not doing that in front of you."
rolls onto his back and spins the tie around his finger. Which...promptly makes him dizzy. "Chicken."
watches the tie for a moment. "Am not."
"Are too. Don't worry, I won't laugh if you're small."
frowns at him. "I'm not small." He's inclined to unbuttoning his pants to show him, but his hands lack the coordination right now.
blinks at him. Or somewhere near him; everything's a little blurry right now. "Uh huh, yeah. Can't be. Heroes aren't *small*."
Alfred
feels
his masculinity and heroism is at stake here, so he tries tugging at his jeans once he gives up on the button. "Damn straight."
folds his arms behind his head and just watches, amused. "Quit wastin' time, damn."
"I ain't wasting time. These pants are jus' bein' difficult." And there it goes, down to his thighs so can slide his hand under his shorts.
grins and nods towards the television. "You need some encouragment?"
hasn't ever done this in front of someone, but he's too drunk to care at the moment. "Yeah. Jus' don' put in nasty shit."
gets up on his hands and knees and crawls over to the cabinet under the television. Whatever he picks is pretty docile compared to all the-
other videos they have around. But there ya go, man. Porn happenin'.
Alfred
is
going to pretend that Gilbert isn't there while he watches the porn and strokes himself. But look, see, it's not small.
sees that very well. No, it's definitely not small. It's so not small he might sort of bite his lip and pay more attention to Alfred -
instead of the movie.
doesn't mind this simply because he doesn't notice, just like he doesn't notice that he's being a little vocal too.
lets him continue just because that is one fucking pretty sight. Finally letting go of his abused lower lip, he shifts and clears his-
throat. "Hey, pussy. Why don't you fuckin' come over here and I'll really let you win a round."
turns over on his side to face Gilbert with his hand still on his cock. "Yeah? What's my prize for winning?"
pauses with his pants half unzipped, blearily staring at him. Then he grins. "You can come on my face."
blinks, and opens his mouth to speak but is a bit too shocked to reply at first. "I can what..." The idea of that is actually...really hot.
jerks his pants down, kicks them away and leans back on his hands, legs spread. "I *said* you can fuckin' come on my face. You can fuck-
me, jerk off on me, whatever, as long as it goes right. *here*." Right where he's pointing on his cheek.
sits up and watches him, with his jaw hanging a bit. Not because of him being turned on by this; he's not surprised about that, it's what-
he heard him say that gets him. He scoots over a bit, to Gilbert's side but doesn't do anything yet, other than reaching over to touch-
his cheek for whatever reason. "Right there. Okay."
turns his head immediately, taking two of his fingers into his mouth to suck.
closes his eyes and focuses on the sensation, blatantly reminiscent to something else. "H-hey. I want you to do this to my dick." His face-
Alfred
is
red, partially from saying that in such an awkward way.
lets go of his fingers and slides down. It's pretty ungraceful, but it does get him to Alfred's lap the fastest. He looks up at him as he-
spits on the tip of his cock, fist using this as lube to stroke him. "What d'you want me to do to it?"
watches him and bites this inside of his cheek to prevent himself from making any sounds that at the moment seem embarrassing. "Suck."
snickers and obliges - sort of. He doesn't suck at first but works him with lips and tongue. It's a little sloppy considering how drunk he
Gilbert
is
, but that doesn't make it bad. Just....wetter.
doesn't mind this at all. Especially when he honestly isn't sure the last time this has happened. He sets his hand on Gilbert's head but-
tries to refrain from pushing his head down.
could handle it if he did but he's trying to make sure he does a good job. No teeth, sucking so hard now and then his cheeks cave, yeah-
he's really going out on on Alfred's cock, topping his rises with a light half-spiral of his fist.
could easily get off soon the way this is going, with as drunks and inexperienced as he is. He tugs on Gilbert's hair, without even thinking
to try asking if that's even okay. "F-fuck..."
pulls up and takes over with his hand, looking up at him with a smirk.
swallows thickly and pats his head." ...You're good at this, huh."
would lean up and kiss him, but Al seems kind of iffy on all this in the first place. Just a grin and careful wrist flick then. "Yep. Real
good. Way I see it, if ya don't like suckin' dick, there's no way you're gonna give good head. An' I fuckin' love it. So what, what d'you
wanna do? You want me to bring ya off like this?"
probably wouldn't mind it so much at this point. He's too caught up in this now to really be able to think. "If you did, what would you-
do about yourself?"
almost snorts. He just manages to catch himself only by licking him. No way this guy's a virgin, but he sure as he'll acts like it. Sorta-
cute. He shrugs. "Jerk off, if you don't wanna recip...ress...uh. Give back." Fuck big words this drunk.
sits there for but a moment before pushing Gilbert onto his back and crawling over him, head facing crotch. What he lacks in talent-
he'll make up for with enthusiasm.
*is* laughing now, but out of surprise, not meanness. "Well goddamn, Al."
would mumble a response, but at this point he's already got the head of Gilbert's cock in his mouth.
goes to grab his head but stops because that...that curl thing. And oh god, it is fucking *impossible* to resist that after he sees it. If
it works like the Italies' curls, it *has* to be messed with, even while he's getting some pretty fucking decent head. So he touches it.-
Well. More like grabs it in a handful of Alfred's hair.
's ahoge really does nothing for him, but he does have a sensitive scalp, so the moment his hair is grabbed, he moans, still with Gilbert's-
cock in his mouth. Cue his cheeks burning when he realises he did that, and a sharp suck as an effort to focus himself on the task at hand.
...Or in mouth, rather. Whatever.
isn't sure what exactly caused that, but he doesn't give a fuck. If pulling hair makes Alfred do *that* with his mouth, he's going to do=
it at least once more and a little harder. "Aw, fuck, man."
tries choking back another moan and sucks harder. He moves down a little farther down. He can manage sucking without using his teeth, but-
he doesn't do this enough to be able to go all the way down without choking.
won't crit him for not being able to deepthroat; this is fucking great as it is. He'll just pull again - not as hard - to get Alfred to-
bob his head faster, stupidly trying to not force him too far down while his hips come up.
bobs his head a little faster; he's not completely oblivious. But after a moment, he pulls back completely to trail his tongue over the -
underside of his cock.
hisses through his teeth when the air hits the spit on his cock; this and Alfred's tongue makes his skin tingle, right on up his belly and-
even down his fucking balls. "*Fuck*, you're good. Goddamn fuckin' bitch, you like suckin' me off, don't you?"
doesn't isn't sure how to react to dirty talk, though he does feel a bit of an ego boost with the compliment. He sucks again, this time on a
spot near the base of his cock. "I...guess so."
whacks him in the side of the head, really without thinking. At least it isn't too hard of a hit. "You fuckin' *guess so*, y-you're..
shit...you're fuckin' right you do." His shit-talking usually has no direction other than to rile his partner up. It's just muttering and-
swearing until he gets extremely turned on and closer to getting off.
groans a little. It didn't hurt really hurt though. He sucks harder at that same spot, so much that he ends up inadvertently nipping him. -
He moves a father down to pay attention to another spot. "Yeah. I like it. Fuckin' *love* it." See, he can somewhat get into this kind of-
talking.
grins at the ceiling. Fast learner. "You suck dick like a fuckin' pro, man. You're gonna fuckin' make me come like that."
looks up at him and sucks at the head again. "You can, uh, come on my face if you want." Since he was offered... (I thought I posted /: )
Gilbert
is
going to here in a minute anyway, with or without invitation. That's pretty hot though, so he slips his hand down to take over, quick
and hard. "Open your fuckin' mouth."
pulls back slightly so his face isn't in the way and so he has a better view of watching. Soundlessly, he opens his mouth.
really gets into it when he jerks off. This shaking and squirming around, this isn't him putting on a show for Alfred. He's thoroughly
enjoying his own hands, pumping his cock and rubbing lower as well. Just...just another second...
's jaw drops as he watches. He's so...not drooling. That's just him forgetting to swallow. Uh. Yeah, he likes watching this *a lot*.
's arm would be cramping by now of he weren't so practiced at this. He opens his eyes just to make sure he isn't going to shoot in Alfred's
eye then, in another few fast strokes,
his hips buck up and he he gives a short, loud groan as he comes. Part in Alfred's mouth, part on his chin, even a bit running down over his
fingers as he strokes and squeezes through the orgasm.
's first instinct may have been to spit, but instead he swallows and keeps his eyes fixated on Gilbert and leans back, wiping his chin with-
the back of his hand.
saw that, and you bet your ass he's going to remember what Alfred looked like swallowing a load next time he jacks off. He needs just-
another second though; he's still shaking a little, still coming down from that.
leans against the back of the couch, breathing heavily. He's still watching Gilbert, though at the moment he has nothing to say.
tugs his pants back up and sits up to reverse their positions and help Alfred get off too, hopefully just as awesomely as he did.
Alfred
is
worked up enough that it doesn't take him long to get off. And really, just look at his face. It should be obvious how much he enjoys this.
*is* looking,you bet your ass he is. Speaking of ass, about the time he's pulling back to make sure Alfred gets his face, Gilbert's sort of-
regretting not fucking him instead. If he looks like this just from a blowjob...holy shit, man. "Fuckin' sexy."
grins a little lopsidedly through his panting. He isn't thinking at all now, so don't judge too harshly when he leans over to lick-
that off of Gilbert's face. And from there it's easier to just lay down rather than try sitting back up.
stares at him, mouth slack. Yeah, that just about made up his mind. He wipes his mouth and faceplants the floor. "Just so y'know man...next
time we get drunk, I wanna fuck you."
goes a little pink and looks up at the ceiling. "'f'ya get me fucked up like this again I'll prolly let ya."
shrugs. What can he say; he's a man of opportunity. "Ain't no *prolly*. I'll get ya so fucked up on the good shit you'll forget how to say
no."
...actually doesn't mind the idea of that. Uh. Awkward. "Whatev' ya say, man."
rubs his nose then lets his arm flop back to the ground. He's just about had it for the night; getting off has him tired on top of drunk.-
"Mn...mhm...ja, y'can take th'...the couch...f'ya want."
blinks up at the ceiling and yawns. "'m too comfy here. S'anks though." He'll fall asleep here soon anyway.