#* foggy.

“i was going to suggest josie’s but - i don’t know,” he gestures widely to their new office space - a considerable step up from the old nelson and murdock, with its central air and the lobby that isn’t entirely furnished via goodwill, “maybe we should find a new place for us, for the new nelson and murdock. what do you think?”

❛ do you not remember the last time i had tito’s, matt? this is dangerous, to the point where you could possibly be committing a felony, if you really think about it. ❜ 

already loose-lipped from the blunt that’s already made its way into the jar of roaches that sits stashed underneath his dorm bed, it’s very clear foggy has already entered the realm of shitfaced. shitfaced enough to totally focus. he abandons the organized chaos of his and matt’s joined desks to open the fridge, digs for the half-consumed and half-frozen bottle of margarita mix that he slams in the space between their work stations. a pair of matching flamingo glasses that candace had gifted him joins them. 

gently, foggy takes the bottle from matt’s hands with a grin that comes through in his voice.