♡ 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎 ♡

Dale shook his head, trying not to let all the laughter get to him. At the end of the day Fiore would just be another guy who he’d flirt with for five minutes, then go out of his way to never speak to again. Nothing would come of this, and that was probably for the better, because he was ready to pull all of his own hair out. “You know it ain’t a compliment, right? Please tell me you know that.” Dale told him, though keeping his tone light and playful for a moment… teasing.  As they exited the car, Dale found himself looking up at the building and whistling. Yeah, this was a house he could never dream of being able to afford. It was nice. “So rich parents, or are you some kind of foreign movie star?” Dale questioned while the guy got the door to beep at them. This was some sci-fi shit. There was even an elevator inside the house. Dale kept his thoughts to himself before Fiore could call him trailer trash again. “I think you like to think that, because you can’t imagine actually being disliked.” Dale sneered back at him. Though when the other grabbed him and began guiding him to his room, Dale found himself smiling. Damn it. This was worse with internally quarreling with his own sexuality, there was nothing wrong with that. No, this was actually liking a complete jackass. “This room is literally bigger than my apartment.” Dale stated as they walked inside, knowing that was almost definitely the truth. However when the other man started undressing himself Dale swallowed. “Oh wow you are literally taking your clothes off.” He shook his head, trying not to stare.  “I ain’t singing you shit. Can’t you just get in your bed so I can leave.” He sighed before the man mentioned his night time routine. “Good lord!” Dale threw his hands in the air. “You’re home, you’re undressed, your bed is right here! What else could you possibly fucking need to do!” He exclaimed. However as the boy walked off to his bathroom that was IN HIS BEDROOM Dale found himself obediently taking a seat. He took a few minutes to play on his phone, and wait, and try to order a cab, and wait, and realize he didn’t have enough money to get a cab so he texted his brother, and waited… and waited. It wasn’t before long he started dozing off, and was jolted awake when the other man came out of the bathroom. “What?” He yawned. “Dale, it’s Dale.” He blinked his eyes again. “And I’m only here cuz I need an Uber to get back to my car.” 

perhaps fiore has driven the other to the edge, but he’s not done. not yet, at least. when he gets out of the bathroom, he’s close to passing out, but that’s when he realizes  –  so is he. slowly but surely, he comes to lay down beside him, turning on his side so they’re facing each other. a part of him, the drunk, unhinged part, wants to touch his face with his fingertips, wondering how his stubble might feel like, but the much more sane part of fiore settles for a roll of his eyes. “of course your name is dale. the only thing that would make this worse is if it was bob, or fucking billy.” he replies, covering his mouth as he yawns once again. “to answer your question from before though, i’m actually a really famous pornstar, i’ve made millions through the several porn videos i have posted online. maybe you’ve stumbled upon my work when you were jerking off and scrolling through the web. my persona is flower boy xxx.” a brief pause is taken, his expression beyond serious, before he bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “i’m kidding. i’m a model, an influencer, and i’ve been on a few commercials. i make a lot of money through sponsorships. my cousin is an entrepreneur who specializes in promoting new and upcoming brands, he’s also into stocks... so, i hope that answers your question.” he informs the other, which is the truth. he makes a ton of money through sponsorships with brands like colgate, adidas, gucci, you name it. fiore finds himself chuckling at the mention of an uber, shaking his head as his hand reaches to caress his arm, touching his bicep, soft fingertips going up and down as yet another smirk makes its way onto his rosy pink lips. “don’t lie. you’re totally staying because i’m the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen and you’re infatuated with everything about me and totally wanna kiss me. it’s okay. i don’t blame you. if i was you, i’d wanna kiss me so bad. in fact, it saddens me that i can never run across the beach into my own arms... a shame, really.” he needs to go to sleep so he can stop talking so much shit really, but he feels it right around the corner, so it shouldn’t be long before he passes out.

Dale let his eyes wander over to the other man’s smile again, nearly losing sight of the road when he did so, and quickly looked back. God, this really was going to kill him, wasn’t it? “How much fancy shit has to be in a basic shampoo for it to be good and cost that much money. I promise you, I spent most my life washing my hair with a bar of soap and it looks fine to me. I know you had your eye on it.” That was a hell of a gamble, but he couldn’t imagine he was all that wrong.  He let a laugh escape him as Fiore once again denied that there were people out there who probably didn’t think he was beautiful. “Boy, have you never been humbled in your life? Ever? Please, tell me what it’s like to walk through the world that up your own ass.” Dale grunted, unsure why he was bothering to get frustrated anymore, and sure this guy was going to make some remark about how excellent his ass was as well. “I don’t have heart eyes for you, I just don’t wanna see anybody get hurt.” Dale told him, shaking his head. “And now I get to drive a Bentley and it would be fun if there weren’t some uppity pretty boy in the passenger seat.” He decided to ignore the last remark, only watching the driveway as he pulled up and parked. He was waiting to hear an apartment number before the guy’s response turned straight to laugher. Dale raised an eyebrow as he looked over, shaking his head. “This whole thing is your house? Jesus Christ, alright Mr. Gatsby, let’s get you inside.” Dale huffed, not even wanting to think about the gross amount of wealth this guy probably had, while he was going to return home to sharing his brother’s couch with a fully grown doberman. He got out, walking around to the other side of the car and pausing to shut Fiore’s door a second time, simply because he didn’t look like he did it right. He put an arm around the brunette, sighing as he asked him to tuck him into bed. “I will walk you to your bed because I am afraid you’re going to wipe out. Then I am going home, because you make me mad, and I am tired.” Dale told him. “Unlock your damn door and lets go.” 

the only thing fiore did was laugh in return. he has a tendency to think he’s right about everything, so even though he doesn’t voice it, his smile says it all  –  i’m right, you’re wrong. “love, love, love being called a pretty boy.” he told the other, again, not listening to the rest of his sentence minus the bit where he complimented him. he’s a lot to deal with, but he likes to tell himself that being hot makes up for his over the top attitude. he watches as the other closes his door once more, probably a good idea, but he doesn’t say anything in regards to that. “mr. gatsby wishes.” he replies, playfully poking his side and giggling. he sloppily enters the code that unlocks his house, to which the door beeps then opens up. once they’re both inside, he shuts the door behind them and walks past the pristine decorations an interior designer had picked out for him and his cousin. fiore genuinely doesn’t think he has it in him to climb the stairs, so he settles for the elevator, surprisingly quiet on the way up, before he has to break the peace and open his big, fat mouth. “i think you like when i make you mad.” he tells the other, shooting him his usual charming smirk. that is, until the doors slide open and he grabs a hold of the other’s wrist, using it for support, but also to guide him towards his room. “this is my room,” though really, it’s big enough to be someone’s whole ass house, “now,” he slides off his shoes, before he removes his shirt, then undoes his belt and takes off his jeans, placing his clothes on top of a plush chair, so now he’s really only in his briefs, “are you gonna sing me to sleep and tell me how cute i am?” he’s so, so tired, but then it hits him. “oh my god... i need to do my night care routine. stay here.” he tells him, making his way towards his bathroom to not only remove his eye make up, but to do the rest of his routine. the skincare, brushing his teeth, the whole ordeal. truthfully, fiore doesn’t care how tired or drunk he is  –  he can never skip his night care routine. after about an hour ( and that’s rushing it ), he finally comes out of the bathroom, somehow, looking even better than how he looked when he walked into it. he tiredly smirks at him. “i knew you would still be here... whatever your name is.”

If it were possible to die from putting one’s foot in their own mouth, Dale was surely about to meet his end. How was it possible to keep accidentally flirting with a guy who made him so angry? How was it possible to be so agitated with somebody and yet want to keep engaging so badly. He was cute, and something about all the banter was proving to be kind of fun. “You’re just flirtin cuz you’re drunk.” Dale told him, keeping his eyes fixed as he could on the road. Dale let out a dissatisfied grunt, knowing he should have realized by now he couldnt say a word about this man’s appearance without hearing a series of vanity laced comments. “Guarantee you that you could accomplish the same nice hair just as easy with products from the drug store.” Dale shook his head, sure that this guy probably just woke up beautiful every day and didn’t even have to do anything for it. One could almost mistake the moment between them, the few seconds where not an insult was slung, was something sweet. If a moment could have spanned for an evening, it would have even been nice. However as soon as it had come up, it was lost to more teasing and taunting. “I don’t, I know that must be shocking for you to hear but some people out there just don’t want to fuck you.” None of those people were him, but that was besides the point. “Oh my God, then find one of them to drive you home next time. Cuz it looks to me, like you’re a sloppy drunk, you’re probably no fun to party with, and I was the one guy willing to give you a ride.” Dale explained to him, figuring it’d be a bitch to go pick up his own car later. “I’m difficult? Me? I’m the difficult one here?” He questioned, looking the other man over. When he was told to turn he found himself facing the gate of a lovely building. Dale yawned as he pulled up, shaking his head as he wondered if moving away would be enough to promise he’d never see Fiore again. “Wow, big building.” Dale muttered. “Trust me.” He stated as he began to exit the vehicle. “You can’t drive me much crazier.” He stated. “Alright, what’s your apartment number? I’m puttin you in bed so I can go home.” 

maybe he was right. maybe he was just flirting because he’s under the influence, but either way, he’s having too much of a good time to stop. however, fiore doesn’t reply to that. instead, he just finds himself laughing for longer than necessary, actually showing his teeth, which isn’t something he does too often as he’s more of a ‘smile or laugh without teeth’ kind of guy. “impossible. you get what you pay for.” he bites back, something he fully believes is a real thing. you can’t expect top quality product from something cheap, at least in fiore’s eyes. “i find that really hard to believe.” truthfully, he deserves to get mugged just like the other said, but the smile on his lips is too adorable for words, that it would be hard to do just that. “well of course you were willing to give me a ride. you’re so heart eyes for me, it was the least you could do. don’t act like driving a bentley isn’t a fun time either. i mean, aside from having me as your company, of course.” more teasing, as if he isn’t relying on this guy for basically everything right now? obviously. he finds himself shaking his head at his following words, positive he could drive him relatively insane if he pushed hard enough. “we’ll see.” is all he says, watching as the other parked the car. however, at the mention of an apartment number, fiore finds himself furrowing his eyebrows in clear confusion, turning around for a second to see if maybe he was talking to someone else ( he really is this level of drunk ). “apartment number? what are you talking about?” he asks the blonde, before his words finally hit him, and he bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “did you think i lived in an apartment? you’re funny.” he tells him, bringing his seat back up and removing his seat belt. “this entire building is my house.” he clarifies, in case the other hadn’t caught on. he opens the door to the passengers side, weakly slamming it shut because he was beat. now that he’s standing up, it hits him just how drunk he is, how the entire atmosphere around him seems to spin. without warning, he comes beside the other and wraps an arm around his, mostly for support, but also because he kind of wanted to feel his biceps  –  they were nice. “will you tuck me into bed and tell me how pretty i am?” more teasing? most definitely.

Dale found his cheeks turning red as he rushed his eyes back to the road. He could not possibly be flirting with this guy, not this guy. He was agitating, and he’d probably just think that he was dirty and sloppy and grossly inexperienced anyway. He needed to just focus on the road, just get this asshole home. “You aren’t as good looking as you like to think you are. Like honestly, you’re hot, then you start talkin’.” Dale shook his head. “If you pay more than five dollars for shampoo, you’re gettin’ scammed.” He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, figuring it felt just fine to him, nothing was wrong with his hair. He took another long breath as Fiore continued to just play away from anything he said. He was getting tired, and this seemed to be endless. “You know, there’s something to be said for people who like talkin’ just to hear themselves talk.” Dale told him, looking back to the road again. However as Fiore began to describe his favorite colors, the young man couldn’t help but smile a bit, watching the streetlights passing by. “I like yellow too.” He stated honestly. “Just makes me think of light, it’s nice.” He shrugged, figuring he didn’t have some big fancy story about Italy, and he’d barely ever been to the ocean, but he could share some. “I do not- I don’t. I don’t want to fuck you.” Dale stammered, though his tone was far from convincing, just shocked at best. “God, you really are that full of yourself, is that it? You just wanna fuck yourself that badly?” He accused, wanting now just to get out of the car. Maybe he could simply just… leave. No, no the guy was too drunk. However when he stated playing music, Dale wanted to protest until he realized it might shut the man up a few minutes. That was until he began singing… in Italian. Dale kept quiet a few long minutes, trying to navigate just through the last few moments of the trip, despite the way his eyes kept drifting over to the other man, long moments that he’d lose focus, wondering how someone so beautiful could be just so horrible. Then again… he couldn’t be that horrible right now. That was until he began speaking again. “No, no I will not carry you. I’m makin sure you get in your bed alive, and then I’m leaving.” He stated frustratedly. “No more nonsense. You driven me crazy enough tonight.” 

even though he was drunk, and completely out of it, he noticed the blush on the other’s cheeks, and fiore would be lying if he said it didn’t boost his already clearly inflated ego by a ton. he might be ‘white trash’ or whatever the hell it is that american’s call it, but fiore isn’t blind. he knows an attractive guy when he see’s one, even though he does want to give him a wardrobe tutorial or something. “if you want me to stop talking, there’s a lot of ways that you can shut me up, hillbilly.” he informs the other, the smirk becoming more present on his rosy colored lips. he was teasing, which is unsurprising for fiore, considering what a little shit he is. “i don’t think i am getting scammed though. my hair is great.” complimenting himself once again? what else is new? though truthfully, he does have really nice, full hair ( apart from an extensive skin care routine, he also had a hair care routine ). for a moment, they’re both smiling at each other over the talking of colors, but of course, it’s short lived. fiore cackles, shaking his head. “yeah, keep telling yourself that... you might just believe it.” he presses again, the shit eating smirk never leaving his lips. fiore finds himself shaking his head at his following words. “i don’t need to fuck myself. i mean, apart from that being like, physically impossible, i already have guys wanting to do the job for me, you included, i’m sure.” and he would just continue teasing and teasing until the alcohol knocked him out. fiore was the type of person to tease endlessly, and shamelessly. he knew he was hot, and he knew what he could get away with ( lots of things really ). “ugh, fine. you’re so difficult.” he informed the other, as if fiore isn’t the one who has been giving him shit all night. “make this left right here. my house will be on the right side once you do.” he tells him, covering his mouth once again as he let out another yawn. “you can just pull up close to the gate, it’ll open with the sensor on my car.” fiore felt the need to explain, in case he wanted to park outside the gates or something. “i don’t think i’ve driven you crazy enough. in fact, i’m sure i can drive you even crazier.” whether his words had double meaning or not was entirely up to interpretation. 

Dale let out a playful groan as Fiore continued to poke at him, shaking his head and looking at him for a brief moment. He was a good looking guy, that was an objective fact, but the man was so beyond insufferable. The kind of person who seemed like he’d complain about too much spit in a kiss. “You know, you’d be good lookin’ if you didn’t have the personality of one of them twenty-dollar shampoo bottles.” Dale sneered, looking back to the road, not wanting to stare for too long. “You know what, maybe you do. In one of them fancy display cases. I can see it now. World’s Biggest Douchebag.” He spoke in a near mesmerized tone, waving a hand for dramatic effect. “You got a fucking car to match your eyes, do you hear yourself? Tell me, do you even like the color? What is your favorite color?” Dale asked him, genuinely wanting to know if this guy was genuinely that obsessed with his own looks. “Oh you had such a long day.” He repeated in the same tone he would when his dog would sigh heavily. “What’d you do? Wake up and spend twelve hours on your hair? Go to a party and get smashed? How hard.” He teased.  “Oh six pillows, how ridiculous of me.” Dale exclaimed. “How do you sleep with six pillows? How? How are you not afraid to have that many around, because if I saw you with an extra pillow laying around, I’d just have to smother you. How are you not afraid someone’s gonna kill you?” Dale asked him. “Are you for serious? You have actual fucking butlers.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “What could possibly be so hard to do around your house that you have to shell out hundreds of dollars a week to pay a staff?” Dale asked him. “No, we ain’t. Don’t start that or I will have to mug you.” 

fiore could feel his eyes on him, and like the little shit he is, he turns towards him and shoots him a flirty, playful smirk. the type of suggestive smirk he’s given guys he’s blown before. “i’d be good looking? i already am good looking, shut up. and what, you mean those shampoo bottles you buy at the local supermarket? twenty dollar shampoo bottles are probably awful for your hair.” he doesn’t think he has to further elaborate for the other to catch onto the fact that the shampoo he bought for his hair was way more expensive than that. he chuckles at his comeback, pearly whites in view. “the fact that you think i’m the world’s biggest anything is such an honor.” fiore replies, completely missing the other’s point, on purpose, of course. “i do. i mean, the sound of my voice is too good not to pay attention to, you know? and to answer your question, i do like the color blue, and yellow. blue reminds me of the ocean and i love the ocean, because it’s beautiful and lively but it’s also dangerous and deep. yellow reminds me of summers on the amalfi coast and like... that’s always a good time.” at his following words, he resists the urge to roll his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, simply scoffing in response. however, the mention of the other smothering him causes him to burst out laughing, shaking his head. “god, you wanna fuck me so bad, it’s adorable.” again, he genuinely deserves to get bitch slapped and ditched in the middle of nowhere. he lets out a sigh at the other’s words, unlocking his phone and going through his youtube music app. “my place is big, okay? what do you want me to say? my cousin and i are not cleaning all that shit up by ourselves.” is all he can think to respond, before he starts looking for one of his favorite songs, testa tra le nuvole pt.2 by alfa. “we’re gonna listen to some music on the way. it’s okay though, you can still hate flirt with me all you want.” he tells the other, playfully poking his arm as the song starts to play, and honestly? he doesn’t sing at first, but when his favorite part comes around, he’s singing like a drunken fool. “è meglio se ti calmi, il cuore si misura in battiti, credo che l'amore invece si misuri in attimi, lei speciale senza effetti speciali, io vivo da re dentro i miei castelli mentali, e per me vali tanto, ma tanto vale, come possiamo odiarci fa tanto male, siamo due terre distanti tra tanto mare, meglio restare a riva e non annegare... mai!” he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this song. fiore let’s out a yawn, covering his mouth in the process. “i’m tired. will you carry me to my bed when we get there like the king i am?” literally, shut up.

“What was that?” Dale asked him, raising an eyebrow. God it was almost like he wanted to get dropped. He should do it, it would be so easy, it would be so funny, but he holds on. “Hooked? I don’t think you get what’s goin’ on here, you are the one stuck on me. You are the one who’s been all over me.” Dale told him, a bit more playful in his tone. However, the jokes were done when his car was insulted again. “You look like you belong in a junkyard.” Dale told him in a mocking tone, shaking his head. “I think you can afford a better car than I can, that don’t mean you know anything better.” Dale told him, shaking his head. Still he couldn’t help but whistle as he looked over Fiore’s car, sure he wouldn’t get to drive something like this again for a long, long, time. “Relax, moneybags, I’m not about to smoke in your Bentley.” He stated, rolling his eyes. As much as he’d love to fuck up a rich boy’s car, he wasn’t about to be a part of a rich boy’s lawsuit. “Isadora, well damn, she’s something else.” He stated. “You seriously got a car to match your eyes?” He questioned. “Seems silly to me.” He added, shaking his head, nearly jumping as the car started straight up speaking italian. “Holy shit.” Dale muttered quietly, starting to hit the road, very shocked by just how smooth she drove. “Aw, you had a long day?” Dale asked mockingly. “I ought to strangle you with your silk sheets. I bet you got a goose feather pillow too? Three butlers to take off your shoes?” 

fiore should have expected teasing from the other. after all, deep down, he knew he was a major pain in the ass and he really had no reason to help him, yet, here he was, driving his car to his house to make sure he got there safely. “don’t lie, you totally have the hots for me.” he continued to tease him, smirking as he was turned towards him on the car seat, gazing, but not realizing he was to begin with. “i belong on a pedestal.” he replied simply, which, is unsurprising for him considering what a damn conceited shit he is more than half of the time. “of course i got a car to match my eyes.” however, at the mention of that being silly, he rolls his eyes. “you’re silly.” he finally claps back, which isn’t the best comeback, but he was drunk. it wasn’t his finest moment therefor, he wasn’t coming up with his finest comebacks. “i did. i totally deserve a massage.” as if several people don’t have it worse than him, but that was just fiore for you, dramatic as ever, as if he did any actual labor today. “don’t threaten me with a good time now,” he smirks, running a hand past his darker hair, “i have six goose feather pillows. what am i, a neanderthal to just own one?” he questions, shaking his head as if what the other was saying was absolutely ridiculous. “well we do, but all the workers have their days off. i mean, we’re not slave owners... it’s the weekend!” god, he deserved to get slapped. “are we almost there?” was he about to start bugging the other on how close they were? yes, he definitely was.

location: at a club starter: open

ruby shopped for the cutest outfit and believed it was a crime to not even wear it out and show if off. how could she not? obviously feeling herself, she remained in the center of the dance floor as she danced the night away. hair flipping and body twirling around to the beat. after awhile, she found herself moving towards the bar and ordering herself a drink before looking over at the other, “you look bored. or is that just your resting face?”

fiore had spent most of the night dancing with random guys, getting compliments the way he liked. eventually, he gets tired of dancing and makes his way towards the bar, ordering a drink and telling them to add it to some other sucker’s tab ( that sucker being an unfortunate soul he had danced with earlier ). after a piña colada is placed in front of him, he takes a sip, turning towards ruby and chuckling softly. “i think it’s just my face. i’ve been told i have a resting bitch face more times than i can count.”

He tried Dale began to wonder that if he just threw this asshole in front of a moving car, would anyone even notice? He understood the other man was drunk off of his ass, he was still endlessly frustrating. Still, it brought a smirk to his face when he gave a little bit of a scare in threatening to drop him. “Oh, now you need me?” He teased, just wanting to hear the other man admit it. As funny as it would be to just leave the guy in the dirt, he couldn’t. “I think you are very pretty… fucking insufferable.” Dale sneered, shaking his head. “Consider yourself lucky if I don’t dump you on the side of the road somewhere.” Dale threatened, thinking about just finding a few low income neighborhoods to drive this fucker through, just to scare him. “Trixie is not a- you apologize to her!” He stated, shaking his head. “It is a beautiful name, and she is a beautiful car.” He took a breath, realizing he may as well be reasoning with a toddler. “I don’t think you’d know a halfway decent car even if I ran you over with one.” Dale threatened. When his rant once again seemed to fall on deaf ears, instead being met with a comment of thats hot, he could have sworn he was genuinely seeing red. “You’re a real fuckin piece of work.” Dale sighed, letting out a long exhale. “I need a fuckin cigarette.” He added, rubbing at his eyes for a minute. When Fiore handed his keys over Dale rolled his eyes. “I don’t even want to know.” He started, knowing this key ring probably cost more than most things he owned. “The fuckin b- the Bentley?” Dale exclaimed, looking over to the car. “You drive a fucking Bentley?” He shook his head, leading him to the other car. “Alright, get in, trust fund.”

fiore couldn’t help but roll his eyes when the other asked if he needed him. “shut up.” is all he replies, but still, doesn’t let go. the last thing he needed was to fall and hurt himself  –  he considers himself too cute to ever have such a thing happen. “you wouldn’t, you’re already too hooked on me to play me like that.” he teases, knowing he is truly a piece of shit when he wants to be. fiore can’t help but burst out laughing when he defends his car, like it’s some national treasure rather than something that belongs in a junkyard. “she belongs in a junkyard... sorry not sorry.” when they’re in front of his car, he lets go of the other, resting his face against the freshly polished hood of his baby. “i think i know more about decent cars than you do.” he informed him, the smile returning to his lips when he stated he was a piece of work. he brings his hand to his chest, overdramatic as ever. “aww, thank you.” he replies, not even the slightest bit fazed by his very true statement. he makes a face when he states he needs a cigarette, opening the passenger door and sloppily making his way inside, nearly hitting his head against the hood, but managing to somehow duck it. “not in my car.” he replied, not about to smell the disgusting scent cigarettes had to offer in isadora. fiore turns towards him, putting his seat back so he could lay down, a sloppy grin playing on his lips. “yeah, isn’t she beautiful? i named her isadora. she’s blue because it matches my eyes.” the car was already on, automatically, and just like always, it was connected to his phone, the automated system greeting him in his native tongue. “ciao fiore.” he starts giggling profusely, the robotic voice sounding hilarious for some reason. “ciao siri. portami... a casa.” and just like that, the gps was already connected, the route being his house. “she’s gonna guide you to my house now... don’t go anywhere else though because i really just wanna lay down on my silk sheets to relax after what a hard day i’ve had.” as if he wasn’t the one giving other people a hard day, but okay fiore.

There was an unmistakable grimace that crossed Dale’s face when Fiore teased at him. A part of him considered ruffling through his hair to show off the scar he’d earned hitting the side of an old friend’s brick porch. “Might be dumb, but at least I ain’t pretentious.” He rolled his eyes, knowing this pretty little fucker would probably take that shit as a compliment too. “You wanna crack your head on something? I can make it happen.” Dale threatened, smirking as he felt bombarded by the confusion that something about this was kind of fun. “Alright, I’m letting go!” He warned, only slightly loosening his grip on the other man before pulling him close again. “You know what I think? I think there ain’t a damn thing to you beyond fancy hair and some pretty eyes. I think you couldn’t get anywhere near world domination, because I can’t imagine there’s a single person out there who likes you enough to tolerate you for more than a night.” He shook his head, taking a breath. Fuck he should’ve just had that drink. Should’ve just thrown this guy to the wolves. “No, there won’t be. I’m bringing your ass home, that’s it.” He couldn’t imagine never leaving home again just to avoid this particular person, but he seemed to be everywhere. Of course when they got to his car it was not up to Fiore’s standard, of course it wasn’t. “Oh you did not just talk bad on Trixie.” Dale huffed. “I’ll have you know she’s a classic.” He stated, knowing full well that while Trixie was his greatest love, far more beloved to him than some douchebag. “Oh my God would you cut this I’m too good to ever be seen with a poor person crap, for five minutes, please?” He was so tired of playing nice. “I am tryin’ to help you out, keep you from gettin’ hurt, okay? Thank you. Someone keeps you from gettin’ naked in front of a big ass crowd, you say thank you.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, letting out a loud groan. “Which car is yours?” He surrendered. “Just hand me your fucking keys you glammed up demon.” 

to be completely honest, everything the other male was saying was entering one ear and leaving the other. he was too out of it to genuinely grab onto anything that was leaving his lips, which is why he ends up laughing instead, even though nothing that left his mouth was close to comical. however, the laughter soon dies down when he claims he’s going to let go, which, just causes fiore’s grip to tighten on his arm. “rude.” he tells the other, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. suddenly, a smile begins to creep its way onto his rosy pink lips. “you think... i have fancy hair and pretty eyes?” he questions, the smile only intensifying, as he completely missed the rest of what the other was saying. “i love that so, so much.” fiore declares, running a hand through his soft locks. when he mentions the name trixie, fiore finds himself raising a neat, thick brow. “you named your car a stripper’s name?” he’s quick to judge, but what else is new, really? fiore would stop judging people the day pigs fly. “yeah, a classic dinosaur.” he informs the other, fully rolling his eyes this time. when he goes off into a rant, fiore remains completely quiet as he goes off. everything he’s saying is completely understandable, but that doesn’t stop fiore from asking what he asks next. “are you angry?” he tilts his head slightly, drunken gaze looking hazy as he smirks. “that’s hot.” he’s a piece of shit and he knows it, but at least he can admit to it. digging his hand inside the pocket of his designer jeans ( of course ), he fishes for his keys, until his hands land upon it  –  the key to his beloved bentley, which he named isadora. on the key is a little keychain with the letter ‘f’, in pure gold, extra like he is. besides that, he doesn’t have any house keys considering his house is opened with a passcode. “here,” he places the key into his hand, sloppily pointing to a car not too far from where they were. “it’s that sky blue one over there, the bentley. you don’t need the key to turn it on, by the way. it senses the key when you’re inside and turns on by itself.”

“I cracked my skull falling off a table once, it happens, and you seem like if you as much as bruised a little bit you’d spend the next three days cryin’ about it. It’s loss prevention.” Dale told him, shaking his head. If this guy couldn’t just accept that he’d actually been helped and genuinely thank him, that was on him. He just made sure to keep a good hold on the guy so he didn’t full on hit the ground. “I ought to have left you in there.” He huffed, still feeling somewhat bad for the guy. Nobody deserved to be that messed up and on their own. “I ought to drop your ass on the ground.” He added, thinking about it, thinking about just letting go. “You know a whole lot of pretty doesn’t make up for such a god-awful personality, you know that, right?” Dale told him in a huff. “Seriously, I don’t know how anyone can stand to have a conversation with you.” He added, fumbling for his keys with his free arm once they were actually outdoors. “There most certainly won’t be.” He hoped that wasn’t true, he almost wanted to run into him again, just to rub in his face that he rescued him. “No you are not.” He stated firmly when Fiore tried to say he would drive. “if you could drive there wouldn’t be an us, I’d be dropping your ass at your car, but you can’t drive. So here we are.” He stated, stopping in front of his own car. “Get in.” He stated, needing to use his key to manually unlock the door. The Malibu was old, older than he was, but it was his pride and joy. “You know I don’t know if I should tease you for not even knowing the redneck stereotype right or if I should be honored that you think I’m rich enough to own a horse.”

he can be truly intolerable sometimes. that, he’s well aware of, and his following words are proof. “did you?” he pauses, a smirk coming onto his lips. “that explains a lot.” fiore knew he should be nicer. after all, he was helping him, but it was just in his nature to be a narcissistic prick  –  this guy simply made it too easy. “don’t leave me, blondie.” he slurs out, further clinging onto him. his following words make him laugh, pearly whites in view. “don’t threaten me with a good time, now.” he states, shooting him a smirk, a sloppy wink thrown his way, before he’s laughing all over again. “i think it does. i think pretty people can get away with world domination.” he honestly needed to shut the fuck up, but at least he was being honest. deep down inside, fiore isn’t all that bad, but would he ever show that hidden, humane side of him? probably not. he pokes his stomach playfully. “yes there will be. don’t lie.” the other might as well smack the smirk off his lips, but fiore doubts that would happen. when they stop in front of a car, fiore doesn’t bother to hide the disgust written across his features. “not to be dramatic, but i’d rather die than touch the door handle, let alone get inside.” his face scrunches up in clear refusal, instantly shaking his head. “god, what is that thing?” again, he genuinely deserves to get smacked, especially when fiore takes a step back, making it evident he wasn’t about to ride with him. “don’t tell me you drive around in this monstrosity? no. absolutely not. nope, and if i didn’t make it obvious the first time  –  no. come on. let’s just ride in my car. please? i’m scared of this thing breaking down on us and bursting into flames. i am way too cute to go out like that.”

Why did he have to be such a tool? Dale knew he’d found himself really drunk plenty of times and he prayed he never looked quite this embarrassing. Was this some kind of sick karma for all the times he acted a fool in his life? “Would you just get off the table?” Dale grunted as he reached for him, not about to let this other guy do something he’d really regret. “And keep your fuckin’ clothes on.” He added before the other man began topplng. It was fast, nearly instinctive, to grab for him. To get his arms around him and stop him from hurting himself. For a brief second the world seemed to stop until he realized he actually had him. And then he had to open his fucking mouth again. Dale grunted. “You were about to crack open your fucking skull.” He huffed, shaking his head as he seemed to catch his breath, looking at him and still feeling a sense of relief. However when the other declared that Dale may like him. He shook his head. “Don’t flatter yourself, I just didn’t want to deal with cops tonight.” Why was he lying? Why did he like him? “Yes, I am going to take you home now. Come on.” Dale told him, keeping an arm around him. “You can just say thank you next time, you know.” He explained as he began to lead him outside. 

fiore can’t help but chuckle when the other claims he was going to crack his skull open. “you’re so dramatic, has anyone ever told you that?” though realistically speaking, something like that could have definitely happened. it’s not like it hasn’t happened before to other people under the influence, or worse. “it’s really hard not to flatter myself. i mean,” he hiccups, for the millionth time tonight, “it’s impossible, really.” definitely not impossible, but he was too much of a narcissist to admit otherwise. he’s holding onto the blonde for dear life, honestly afraid he might fall. once they’re outside, he starts looking around for his car, somehow managing to spot it parked a bit far away, even with how dark it was. to be fair, the car was hard not to distinguish compared to other vehicles  –  it was fancy, over the top, and a fucking sky blue bentley, for crying out loud. “oh, so you’re saying there’s gonna be a next time?” he teases, turning to him, a smirk making it’s way onto his lips as he nearly trips, his grip on him tightening the tiniest bit. “we should probably go in my car. i’m driving, of course.” anyone who would let him drive in this condition was a damn fool, and he really didn’t think the blonde was that stupid or reckless. “that is, unless you bought your horse with you. that could be a fun time too.” god, does he ever shut up? he’s infuriating, really. 

“You know Dollarita’s, like at Applebees? It’s.. nevermind.” Dale began before he could actually prove Fiore right about something. “Yes I am poor and I live in a trailer park, that is all very funny. At least I don’t think myself better than anyone cuz I get manicures and thousand dollar haircuts.” Dale tugged at his hair, endlessly frustrated at this point. When Fiore began to touch his cheek Dale rolled his eyes, wondering if he could genuinely hold a mirror up to this guy, would he see how ridiculous this all was then. “I’m not here lookin after you.” He stated, though he wasn’t about to leave, not when Fiore seemed to be here alone. Stuck with him now. “Right, well, good for you, but lookin’ cute isn’t everything.” He stated, not wanting to give him the attention he was so desperately demanding. He was half-willing to walk away still, clearly this conversation wasn’t worth it, and yet he didn’t want to leave. That was until Fiore began to climb the table. Good, maybe he’d find someone else to annoy. Dale was about to pour his own drink when Fiore declared he was going to get naked. “Absolutely not!” Dale declared, shoving someone aside to grab onto the young man. “Get down. Get off the table.” He demanded, wondering if he could just pick him up. “You’re done, you’re done, you are going home.” 

everything the other seemed to tell him entered one ear and left out the other the second he stepped foot on that table. his balance wasn’t the best right now, and it was honestly surprising that he didn’t slip and eat shit the moment he got onto the piece of furniture. he was managing to not plummet towards the floor as everyone cheered him on, but somehow, he turned towards him, looking down at the other as the floor seemed to begin to spin quicker than it had been before. “hey, if you wanna see me naked all on your own, all you had to do was ask!” ever the shit starter, he’s about to take off his shirt, when the other grabbed onto his leg. the second fiore felt the touch, he attempted to take a step back to get out of his grip, but that wasn’t proven to be the best decision when he finds himself losing his balance and falling, prepared to eat shit on the ground. he shuts his eyes, bracing himself for impact, but it never comes, and the moment his eyes snap back open, he realizes he’s being held by him  –  that damn hillbilly. fiore finds himself smiling like a true, drunken moron. “you caught me.” he tells the other, which is the first time he finds himself gazing at him in a thoughtful way, unlike the other times he’s stared at him. “you like me.” fiore declares, as he bops his nose with his finger, nails painted a perfect shade of black. “are you gonna take me home now? i’m dizzy.” he had a feeling he was, but he wanted to hear him say it.

Dale could not help but smirk, knowing he may be a lot of things, but he never looked this much of a mess. “Could be, though I can’t say you have much room to talk, runnin around looking like last call on a Dollarita special.” His lip twitched upwards into a smirk. “Look I got no doubt that you spent a lot of time getting ready but that don’t change the fact that you’re messy. That’s too bad, maybe if you had friends they’d tell you that you look sloppy.” Dale shook his head, trying to remind himself that it was wrong to fight drunk people. It is wrong to fight drunk people. He’d just have to get equally as hammered, though that didn’t seem easy. “Yeah, no you won’t. I’d knock your ass clean out.” Dale told him, shaking his head. He couldn’t even justify hitting this guy, knowing he probably didn’t have anywhere near a fair chance to fight back. When he began to brag about older dudes hitting on him Dale sneered. “And I’m sure you’re real proud of that.” He shook his head. “And I ain’t that much older than you!” He added. While he watched the other boy straight up pour liquor on the table Dale reached for the bottle. “No, no it did not.” He stated bluntly. “Oh would you just give that to me, homecoming queen?” He shook his head, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “You good?” 

this time, fiore felt his eyebrows furrow at the mention of a dollarita, because honest to god, he had no clue what that even meant. “what the hell is a dollarita? it sounds like some type of redneck dollar store five minutes away from your trailer park.” just when you think he can’t turn into more of an asshole, he outdoes himself. fiore finds himself smirking at the males words, sloppily caressing his cheek with his rather soft hand. “well i don’t need friends when you’re here looking after me now, do i?” his voice is delicate, but the look on his face is anything but that. he drops his hand from the other’s cheek and rolls his eyes. “whatever.” is all he replies, knowing very well this man could easily beat his ass if he felt like it. he giggles drunkenly, nodding his head enthusiastically. “of course i’m proud of that.” he loved any type of attention he received from guys, especially if they were older than him. fiore watched as the other took the bottle from him, not saying a word at first. however, when he asked if he was good, he didn’t answer right away, until he eventually broke out into a smile. “i’m great! in fact,” he gives no type of warning whatsoever when he holds onto the table and somehow ( miraculously really ), gets on top of it without falling over. “hey everyone!” suddenly, all eyes are on the drunk male standing on top of a table. “great party, right?” it wasn’t, but he had to play along. he can hear a bunch of people agreeing, some whistling in return, and a bunch of others lifting up their cups in reply. “i know what can make it even better,” a pause is taken, before he’s laughing, “who wants to see me naked?!” at this point, people are hollering and whistling even louder, a couple even with their phones out and ready to take a video as fiore reaches for the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off and strip.

◉ ☽ ░╰☆╮░ ☾ ◉

“i always hate to be the bearer of bad news but yeah, definitely,” declan shrugged. “shameless, maybe. whore? i wouldn’t jump that far. and even if they do, i personally don’t think that’s really a bad thing if you’re confident about it.” he didn’t want to act like he knew the other but he wasn’t there to judge anyone for the things they got up to. 

he groans, running a hand past his face. “no wonder people were staring at me. and like... not in the way i wanna be stared at.” all the looks were rather judgmental, and now he knew why. “you know what? you’re right. i just have to be a confident whore.” after all, confidence was the one thing no one knew was either fake or real, and he could definitely play the part.

       lydia snorted at his words opening her bottle of colour correcter and using the wand to apply it gently to his neck. “i get told i’m amazing every second of everyday actually but thanks for the reminder,” she sighed as she began bleding the makeup in with her sponge before going in with concealer.

he chuckles at her words, but doesn’t move an inch from the position he’s in. “are you sure i’m the narcissist here?” he teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he resists the urge to giggle when she dabbed his neck with the concealer. he was kind of ticklish and it felt like a wet feather of some sort.

a long sigh escaped from Dale, as the thought crossed his mind that he could just go home. He could just leave, he’d barely seen anyone he knew anyways. It wouldn’t he hard to hang around a bar all night. However, he didn’t want to. Instead he smirked again when the other guy began to call him hillbilly. “We sure do, and it looks like we’re better at holding our liquor than y’all italianos.” Dale shook his head, not about to engage into yet another stupid fight with this kid. “It’s my way of tellin’ you that you look like a mess. This your first party? Wouldn’t shock me since you don’t look like you got many friends.” That was mean, but it was damn true. He could not imagine many people were capable of listening to this all day. “Oh just an hour.” He repeated back mockingly, unable to imagine anyone spending that long looking in the mirror and yet- yet when the other’s arms wrapped around him for a second, his cheeks felt warm. “I’m not infatuated, I just make it a rule to not hit people who can’t hit back.” Dale warned him, not wanting to think any part of this was because he liked him. “How often do lines like this work for you, really?” He asked, unsure if anyone could handle this whole conceited thing. When Fiore let go Dale almost instinctively reached out to hold him up, genuinely afraid this guy would get hurt. “I’m going to have a drink, but only because that’s the only way I can imagine myself tolerating you here.” He huffed, finishing the one he had been holding. “You should hold back, look like a teen on prom night over there.”

to be fair, most italian’s could hold their alcohol really well, fiore was just a light weight, as he barely drank and well, he was real lanky, to be honest. “well, that’s probably the only thing you guys are good at.” when he smiles at him this time, his vision seems to gloss over even more, his contacts not doing much to help him at all. “a mess? impossible. i spend,” another hiccup, “too much time fixing myself up to look like a mess. and no, i don’t have many friends. no one is up to my standard.” he informed him, with an overly dramatic roll of his eyes. the room felt like it was moving and it was becoming harder to stand up right, but somehow, he was managing. “yeah. i mean, i usually spend three.” he admitted, running a hand past his hair sloppily to make a point, then letting out a drunken giggle. “i can hit back! in fact, i’ll,” he momentarily had to pause to stop himself from falling back, “i’ll swerve your ass real good.” that was a fat ass lie and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from opening his big fat mouth. “all the time. i’ve realized older gay guys are kind of obsessed with me.” if he was sober, he wouldn’t have replied to that question in particular, but drunk him was like an open book of some sort. “yay!” he exclaimed, when he agreed to a drink. grabbing a bottle from the table, he hands him an empty solo cup and starts pouring the drink. the problem here is that he’s really fucking drunk, he can’t see well enough now, and his hand eye coordination at the moment is zero. instead of pouring the contents into the cup, he misses by about an inch and all the liquor spills onto the floor, as he doesn’t stop pouring it. “that landed in the cup, right?” it definitely, five hundred percent did not, but he still felt the need to ask. “i think maybe you should just drink it from the bottle like the neanderthal you are.” he hands him the bottle, insulting him as if he didn’t just make a fool out of himself.

when the other man turned around to actually speak to him Dale fought to keep his eyes from immediately rolling at the sound of his voice. He looked beautiful, so perfectly put together even for very clearly being a sloppy drunk. However as soon as he opened his mouth Dale wanted to reel back and hit him. Still he took a breath as the other guy stumbled over, immediately going on with the insults. “It’s real nice you think I’m a farmer, but believe it or not I do come out to parties.” He huffed, feeling agitated with the notion of engaging in this again. “Good to see you, you look, about how I expected you to look at a party. How long’d you spend on your hair?” He asked. However as the other guy handed him an empty cup Dale paused, taking a lengthy breath. “I ought to hit you, you know that?” He stated. “Didn’t realize you could come out to parties, you know, being so twisted up in kissing your own ass.”

his vision was blurry already, and it was evident he was completely fucked up, but he was having a good time, so he didn’t exactly care. it would be too much fun to roast the other for no apparent reason, and honestly? drunk fiore simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity. he chuckles at the mention of him coming out to parties, pearly whites in view. “sorry, i forgot hillbilly’s had social lives too.” he deserves to get slapped, no doubt about it. it could be real easy for the other to knock him out now if he wanted to as well  –  all he really had to do was lightly shove him. “aww, is that your way of telling me i look beautiful? i know i do, but i’d loveeeeee to hear it from you, blondie!” the smile on his lips widens, and he finds himself shrugging. “not that long, just an hour.” which was nothing compared to the usual three he spent fixing his hair and making sure it looked perfect. “you’re not gonna hit me.” fiore declares with a hiccup, even though honestly? he definitely should. his arms come to wrap around his neck, not in a romantic sense, but mostly because he felt he might fall over if he didn’t hang onto something. “you’re too infatuated with me to hit such a pretty face like mine. besides, i don’t need to kiss my own ass. other people like you can do it for meeeee.” another slurring of his words, before he unwraps his arms from his neck, somehow, magically, not falling over when he let go of the other. “you should have a drink with me, ranger hillbilly. can you handle it?” it was more than evident however, that the one who couldn’t handle it was him.