𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙜.

he crumples his own sheet of paper in his thick palm, suddenly embarrassed by his lack of ideas. it isn’t that there’s nothing he desires, but hat he wouldn’t dare ask for more than he deserves. so for the new year, he holds no hopes. he’ll walk into it blindly, shouldering every obstacle. do what he can for those he’s pledged allegiance to, and take whatever table scraps might be tossed his way gratefully. he’s salivating already, ready to hike up on his hind legs and shake for them if necessary. his mouth pulls into a flat line, nonchalant shake given to his head. “just lots of pie,” he settles on, downplaying it. “looking forward to lots of that.” that line tugs up at the end, all hopeful smirk and playful glint of the eye, trying his luck. “could leave now and welcome the new year with a slice, if you wanted.” he’s asking a lot of her, not just to leave the party, but to break into her job after-hours and serve him. he quirks an expectant brow, goading her.

he spins around to meet her voice, gaze lagging a few seconds behind the movement. grinning when she floats into his vision, he’s drunk and its no secret, given his nature or the wet ring around the neck of his button-up; spilled beer dribbled down his chin during a chugging contest or maybe the messy remnants of grey goose poured right down the hatch. he’s a slobbery baby without a bib standing there before her, but that’s how she likes him. small and laughable. he’s too drunk (and too dense) to feel real shame. “and why wouldn’t i? cover charge?” he asks, a tilt to his chin. “my cover’s covered. always is, baby.” he cracks a cocky smile. it makes him feel valuable to admit, like he really matters in the grand scheme of the function. like he’s worth something. “you know mav’s gonna be where his alliances-- allegiance-- allies-- his boys are. you know i’m here for the boys.” his arms flourish, shoulders rising and falling in a matter-of-fact shrug. she should know it. it’s common knowledge that maverick rides for the reapers, and wherever they end up, there he’ll be. he hooks an arm around minnie’s shoulders, daring to pull her into himself. he’s not conscious of the fact that its probably all off-brand cologne and body heat. “big sale. five-finger discount. free ninety-nine, as long as everything ends up back on the hangers next business day. you liking the look?” with a twist of his middle, he gives a curt flash of his backside. “get a glimpse of this ass in designer, for the first and probably last time.”