[ evan doesn't laugh this time, but he does smirk. ]
As if you wouldn't get shot thirty seconds in.
[ he downs half his drink in one go. a light buzz is settling in, probably from all the injuries and blood loss; he's not enough of a lightweight for two beers to get him even slightly drunk under normal circumstances. maybe this should be the last one?
but then he owes david for another. that'll be it, then. he can still get back home on that, he's sure. ]
[ david says it with an exaggerated scoff, mirroring evan in the way he downs half hia drink. barely noticing his own buzz settling in, warming him up, making the pain a little less insistent. normally he can drink just about anyone under the table and barely get drunk himself, but there's how fucked up he is. hasn't really been eating much either, too busy feeling sorry for himself. ]
[ he certainly doesn't look so sorry right now though, not with the smirk still clinging to his expression as he gestures broadly to evan. ]
Save your arse by makin' myself an enticing target. You're welcome.
[ he's laughed more in this conversation than he has in probably years, and that's saying something given how short and abrupt all of it is. it's a bad sign, but he's not focused enough to realize it. ]
Even with a vest, they'll take you out. Leave me to haul ass outta there with my half of the cash.
[ he doesn't finish his drink off quite yet, but opts to test his weight and stand. ]
[ david laughs, easy and genuine. it's surprisingly easy to imagine; evan running for his life while david manages to get his ass taken out by the cops. evan wouldn't even look back, what a prick. ]
Yeah, thanks.
[ call that another win for david's irresistible charm and wit. that's what he'd assume anyway, and not that they're both tipsy and miserable and desperate enough for any kind of genuine connection that even someone they hate is easier to get along with than most people. ]
[ evan heads to the bar and gets two more. the bartender eyes him, but because his attitude is less of a problem than before, because drinking has put him in a better mood, he gets the drinks without a problem. leaves the bill without taking the change, either, which he's long since learned gets him leeway at any bar, although in this case it's mostly because he doesn't remember to stick around.
he slides one drink in front of david and finishes off his own second before starting on the third. ]
[ amazingly that's not even close to the worst review he's given a beer, though the bad ones are often some variety of piss-flavoured. not that that ever slows david down in the slightest, and it's not going to now either. ]
[ if evan was ever honest with anyone, or even himself, he'd admit he doesn't like most beer at all. liquor is more the usual choice at home, the harder the better, but he doesn't like that either. he's not sure what he does like, other than being just drunk enough to take the doubt and anxiety off his brain.
not that he'd ever admit that's the reason he drinks. ]
Got better stuff back home, but like hell I can get you there.
[ even the idea of it makes a part of him go cold and sober. he shakes it off. it's just a joke. ]
[ david opens his mouth to say something — he has a place, a few bottles of decent stuff — but he's not quite had enough to drink that his brain can't stop him before he shares that fact. telling evan macmillan about his one little refuge? he's taken a lot of hits to the head recently, but he's not quite that stupid yet. ]
[ he looks down at his drink, shakes his head as another mental image floats to the surface before he can get caught up wondering what the fuck is going through his mind. ]
Imagine you tryin' to smuggle me in like a box of, I dunno. Guns or some shit.
[ it's funny enough to make david shake his head, lightly amused at the mental image. ]
[ drink #3 goes down as easily as the first two. it makes it easier to listen to david jokingly suggest they figure out how to get him back to the macmillan estate. ]
I'd be dead before you.
[ he pauses, stares into his drink with a frown. ]
Or I'd just be dead and your ass'd be in a closet somewhere, waiting for a ransom payment. You'd come out better'n me, probably.
[ david says it with a snort, shaking his head. he's pissed off way too many people to imagine he'd survive long enough for them to ransom him, plus he'd keep pissing them off while he was there too. ]
[ whatever. he waves a hand dismissively, downs a significant amount of beer, and sighs. that's too real, too close to something that could actually happen, too close to the actual sources of their misery. ]
Could always buy a bottle. Go hang out under a bridge like a pair of bums.
[ that's a joke. like either of them could haul their sorry asses to a liquor store right now anyway. ]
[ evan almost argues. his father might hate david, but he'd see the value in a ransom, or a trade, or just a general hostage situation. why start a war so quickly over his own idiot son's actions? but there's other people there who don't have that foresight or self-control. they'd kill david first, even if it got them killed.
stupid idea anyway. evan looks down at the last inch or two of beer in his glass. ]
Get us both killed that way. Someone'll rob us. Don't think we're in great condition to fight that off.
[ or they'll end up at the police station. drunk and disorderly and beat to all hell. no, he's not interested in that right now, either. ]
Got a place about three blocks from here. Not much in it, but.
[ he doesn't think about the same thing david does - that he's letting david in on a secret, a place he hides out in, a place to take back home to raid later. partly because he's lightheaded enough not to realize it, but also because he hasn't used it in three years. it's got nothing valuable in it. just a bed, a kitchen - it was supposed to be an outpost, but they changed tactics. he just never stopped paying the rent. ]
[ david looks like he wants to argue about them getting robbed like his body isn't being held together by spite and he's not halfway to drunk right now, but that moves to surprise when evan mentions his place. ]
[ but the idea appeals more than going home does, which would be real fucking upsetting to consider if he had the mental capacity for it right now. thankfully he doesn't. ]
Yeah, fuck it. Go on then.
[ a joke about how this better not be some ruse to kill him flits through his mind, but after he more or less made evan promise they're gonna beat eachother to death one day, it seems a bit much. he occupies his mouth with finishing the last bit of his beer instead. ]
[ evan follows suit, then stands, tests his balance again, and heads out.
it occurs to him about one block out that this might be a mistake, but he brushes it off. about two blocks in he wonders if he's being followed. surely someone saw them both. and is now seeing them both again, leaving. but when he checks his phone there's still nothing there. he doesn't get a lot of messages because he rarely responds to them, but now it strikes him as suspicious.
but ... whatever. better than fighting in the streets, he'll argue. keeping up appearances. maybe the remnants of the encroaching group will think the alliance was real and long-term, and back off.
the building is old, but it doesn't look like it's about to collapse. at this time of night, there's nobody outside their rooms. he takes the stairs in an attempt to clear his head. it doesn't work.
fortunately his place is still unoccupied. it's stuffy, smells like dust and mildew, but nobody else has been there. he fights a window open as david follows him inside. ]
Think there's something in the kitchen.
[ the fridge is empty, but there's an unopened bottle of gin in an upper cabinet. housewarming gift, someone told him sarcastically. ]
[ david follows him, quiet and almost thoughtful. the night air hitting his face is briefly sobering, makes him wonder what the fuck he's doing, but he looks at evan's back and remembers the promise of liquor and decides to forge ahead. glances back a couple of times because no way did nobody see them leave together, but maybe they just didn't care. ]
[ david follows him up the stairs to the apartment, wrinkles his nose a litte at the smell, but it's brief and david's already moving on. through to the kitchen when evan mentions it, starts looking through the cupboards. ]
[ when he finds the gin, david sets it down on a counter with a quiet noise of triumph like he's just solved a huge mystery and keeps rooting around for any cups or whatever they can use. or they can just pass the bottle back and forth, whatever. ]
[ evan stares out the window into the darkness. was he followed? does it matter? he's on recuperation, waiting for his ribs to heal; would anyone care if he left for a night? his father's not the waiting type. if he was really pissed, he'd have already blown up evan's phone, demanding he get back. maybe he doesn't care. it seems impossible that he doesn't know.
there's no odd shadows nearby. evan lets out a breath, then shuts the window and yanks down the blinds. nobody's going to care about one more lit-up apartment in this place.
he drops himself onto a dusty sofa in the main room connected to the kitchen and grunts as the injuries make themselves known again. ]
[ david grabs the bottle and brings it through, starts to open it but he decides it's evan's place and evan's drink, he can get it started. ]
[ he follows suit, dropping himself in one of the corners of the couch with a sharp hiss and a curse under his breath before he offers the bottle over. ]
[ evan takes the bottle without comment and opens it. the smell isn't as strong as he expected. been here too long, maybe. or not long enough. he doesn't know how aging gin works.
the first swig doesn't burn like it might if he wasn't partly drunk and beat to all hell and back. he offers it over to david after a second, grimacing. ]
[ he has no idea, but david says it confidently, a hint of amusement to his tone as he takes the bottle. david doesn't mind it so much in a cocktail or with a mixer, but on its own? not his favourite. ]
[ as is evidenced by the way he wrinkles his nose when it hits his tongue. he doesn't get much of the burn he'd expect from liquor, but he sure gets the taste he knows is uniquely gin's. ]
Shit tastes like some old bird sprayed perfume in your mouth.
[ that doesn't stop him taking a second sip before he passes the bottle back though. ]
[ david's about right, so why are they both still drinking it, he wonders? ]
Bet whatever asshole gave it to me is real pissed I never complained about it.
[ it just burns. even the beer wasn't as bad. he shoves the bottle back, feeling more drunk than he knows he should be right now, especially given how little he's actually had. ]
[ he sinks into the corner of the couch a little, warm and comfortable thanks to the alcohol in his system, which is probably why he doesn't take any real issue with what evan says. just scoffs and waves a hand dismissively before he hands it back. ]
[ evan takes the bottle begrudgingly and scowls at david. he looks too comfortable, here in evan's own fucking apartment. the anger bubbles up, but doesn't quite break the surface of alcohol, pain, and exhaustion. ]
Yeah, right. Whatever'll get you into the next club or party or ... wherever the fuck else you go.
[ he tries to sneer, but it doesn't quite work out. he takes another drink instead. ]
[ he snorts, can't argue with that, and shrugs a shoulder. ]
And if it works, I'd say they're good gifts.
[ he grins around the lip of the bottle, knowing he's being just a bit of a shit, but what's he gonna do? give evan a list of all the times he was actually deeply thoughtful or whatever? fuck that. he passes the bottle back. ]
[ david's grin makes bubbles of anger form and pop on the surface of the alcohol haze. ]
All you do is throw money at whatever's in your way. Get whatever the fuck you want. Whoever the fuck you want. Gotta wonder how many real friends you got.
[ spoken by a man who has zero real friends, but evan justifies it as he doesn't want real friends. ]
[ it works for what he needs it for; company when he's bored or lonely, a distraction, insulation against peoples' expectations. nobody expects him to be as smart or capable as he is when all they see is the man who's always either partying or fighting. ]
[ not that that means a thing where it matters, evidently. ]
Yeah? How's being a miserable bastard workin' out for you?
Better than dealin' with fake fucks all day every day.
[ evan glares at david, the alcohol making him just reckless enough to keep talking, no matter how much he might regret it later. ]
Just as fake as you. All that shit ain't real. It ain't you. The only time I think I ever saw who the hell you were was when you were trying to kill me.
[ the gin is disgusting. why does he keep drinking it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
no subject
As if you wouldn't get shot thirty seconds in.
[ he downs half his drink in one go. a light buzz is settling in, probably from all the injuries and blood loss; he's not enough of a lightweight for two beers to get him even slightly drunk under normal circumstances. maybe this should be the last one?
but then he owes david for another. that'll be it, then. he can still get back home on that, he's sure. ]
Cops aim for the flashiest target.
no subject
[ david says it with an exaggerated scoff, mirroring evan in the way he downs half hia drink. barely noticing his own buzz settling in, warming him up, making the pain a little less insistent. normally he can drink just about anyone under the table and barely get drunk himself, but there's how fucked up he is. hasn't really been eating much either, too busy feeling sorry for himself. ]
[ he certainly doesn't look so sorry right now though, not with the smirk still clinging to his expression as he gestures broadly to evan. ]
Save your arse by makin' myself an enticing target. You're welcome.
no subject
Even with a vest, they'll take you out. Leave me to haul ass outta there with my half of the cash.
[ he doesn't finish his drink off quite yet, but opts to test his weight and stand. ]
Same thing again?
no subject
Yeah, thanks.
[ call that another win for david's irresistible charm and wit. that's what he'd assume anyway, and not that they're both tipsy and miserable and desperate enough for any kind of genuine connection that even someone they hate is easier to get along with than most people. ]
no subject
he slides one drink in front of david and finishes off his own second before starting on the third. ]
This shit ain't very good.
[ he says, as he continues to drink it. ]
no subject
[ david agrees, also continuing to drink it. ]
Tastes like old piss.
[ amazingly that's not even close to the worst review he's given a beer, though the bad ones are often some variety of piss-flavoured. not that that ever slows david down in the slightest, and it's not going to now either. ]
no subject
not that he'd ever admit that's the reason he drinks. ]
Got better stuff back home, but like hell I can get you there.
[ even the idea of it makes a part of him go cold and sober. he shakes it off. it's just a joke. ]
no subject
[ he looks down at his drink, shakes his head as another mental image floats to the surface before he can get caught up wondering what the fuck is going through his mind. ]
Imagine you tryin' to smuggle me in like a box of, I dunno. Guns or some shit.
[ it's funny enough to make david shake his head, lightly amused at the mental image. ]
It'd be a shitshow.
no subject
I'd be dead before you.
[ he pauses, stares into his drink with a frown. ]
Or I'd just be dead and your ass'd be in a closet somewhere, waiting for a ransom payment. You'd come out better'n me, probably.
no subject
[ david says it with a snort, shaking his head. he's pissed off way too many people to imagine he'd survive long enough for them to ransom him, plus he'd keep pissing them off while he was there too. ]
[ whatever. he waves a hand dismissively, downs a significant amount of beer, and sighs. that's too real, too close to something that could actually happen, too close to the actual sources of their misery. ]
Could always buy a bottle. Go hang out under a bridge like a pair of bums.
[ that's a joke. like either of them could haul their sorry asses to a liquor store right now anyway. ]
no subject
stupid idea anyway. evan looks down at the last inch or two of beer in his glass. ]
Get us both killed that way. Someone'll rob us. Don't think we're in great condition to fight that off.
[ or they'll end up at the police station. drunk and disorderly and beat to all hell. no, he's not interested in that right now, either. ]
Got a place about three blocks from here. Not much in it, but.
[ he doesn't think about the same thing david does - that he's letting david in on a secret, a place he hides out in, a place to take back home to raid later. partly because he's lightheaded enough not to realize it, but also because he hasn't used it in three years. it's got nothing valuable in it. just a bed, a kitchen - it was supposed to be an outpost, but they changed tactics. he just never stopped paying the rent. ]
no subject
[ but the idea appeals more than going home does, which would be real fucking upsetting to consider if he had the mental capacity for it right now. thankfully he doesn't.
]
Yeah, fuck it. Go on then.
[ a joke about how this better not be some ruse to kill him flits through his mind, but after he more or less made evan promise they're gonna beat eachother to death one day, it seems a bit much. he occupies his mouth with finishing the last bit of his beer instead. ]
no subject
it occurs to him about one block out that this might be a mistake, but he brushes it off. about two blocks in he wonders if he's being followed. surely someone saw them both. and is now seeing them both again, leaving. but when he checks his phone there's still nothing there. he doesn't get a lot of messages because he rarely responds to them, but now it strikes him as suspicious.
but ... whatever. better than fighting in the streets, he'll argue. keeping up appearances. maybe the remnants of the encroaching group will think the alliance was real and long-term, and back off.
the building is old, but it doesn't look like it's about to collapse. at this time of night, there's nobody outside their rooms. he takes the stairs in an attempt to clear his head. it doesn't work.
fortunately his place is still unoccupied. it's stuffy, smells like dust and mildew, but nobody else has been there. he fights a window open as david follows him inside. ]
Think there's something in the kitchen.
[ the fridge is empty, but there's an unopened bottle of gin in an upper cabinet. housewarming gift, someone told him sarcastically. ]
no subject
[ david follows him up the stairs to the apartment, wrinkles his nose a litte at the smell, but it's brief and david's already moving on. through to the kitchen when evan mentions it, starts looking through the cupboards. ]
[ when he finds the gin, david sets it down on a counter with a quiet noise of triumph like he's just solved a huge mystery and keeps rooting around for any cups or whatever they can use. or they can just pass the bottle back and forth, whatever. ]
no subject
there's no odd shadows nearby. evan lets out a breath, then shuts the window and yanks down the blinds. nobody's going to care about one more lit-up apartment in this place.
he drops himself onto a dusty sofa in the main room connected to the kitchen and grunts as the injuries make themselves known again. ]
Just bring the bottle. Didn't keep much here.
no subject
[ he follows suit, dropping himself in one of the corners of the couch with a sharp hiss and a curse under his breath before he offers the bottle over. ]
no subject
the first swig doesn't burn like it might if he wasn't partly drunk and beat to all hell and back. he offers it over to david after a second, grimacing. ]
Dogshit.
[ but not necessarily worse than the beer. ]
Wonder if that was intentional.
no subject
[ he has no idea, but david says it confidently, a hint of amusement to his tone as he takes the bottle. david doesn't mind it so much in a cocktail or with a mixer, but on its own? not his favourite. ]
[ as is evidenced by the way he wrinkles his nose when it hits his tongue. he doesn't get much of the burn he'd expect from liquor, but he sure gets the taste he knows is uniquely gin's. ]
Shit tastes like some old bird sprayed perfume in your mouth.
[ that doesn't stop him taking a second sip before he passes the bottle back though. ]
no subject
Bet whatever asshole gave it to me is real pissed I never complained about it.
[ it just burns. even the beer wasn't as bad. he shoves the bottle back, feeling more drunk than he knows he should be right now, especially given how little he's actually had. ]
Same kind of shit you'd do. Giving shitty gifts.
no subject
[ he sinks into the corner of the couch a little, warm and comfortable thanks to the alcohol in his system, which is probably why he doesn't take any real issue with what evan says. just scoffs and waves a hand dismissively before he hands it back. ]
I give great gifts.
no subject
Yeah, right. Whatever'll get you into the next club or party or ... wherever the fuck else you go.
[ he tries to sneer, but it doesn't quite work out. he takes another drink instead. ]
Get whatever girl you want outta her dress.
[ he shoves the bottle back. ]
no subject
And if it works, I'd say they're good gifts.
[ he grins around the lip of the bottle, knowing he's being just a bit of a shit, but what's he gonna do? give evan a list of all the times he was actually deeply thoughtful or whatever? fuck that. he passes the bottle back. ]
I mean, they liked 'em.
no subject
[ david's grin makes bubbles of anger form and pop on the surface of the alcohol haze. ]
All you do is throw money at whatever's in your way. Get whatever the fuck you want. Whoever the fuck you want. Gotta wonder how many real friends you got.
[ spoken by a man who has zero real friends, but evan justifies it as he doesn't want real friends. ]
no subject
[ not that that means a thing where it matters, evidently. ]
Yeah? How's being a miserable bastard workin' out for you?
no subject
[ evan glares at david, the alcohol making him just reckless enough to keep talking, no matter how much he might regret it later. ]
Just as fake as you. All that shit ain't real. It ain't you. The only time I think I ever saw who the hell you were was when you were trying to kill me.
[ the gin is disgusting. why does he keep drinking it. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)