#uwubeus

If he had a drink, he would have spat it out. "Your buttons?!" This man had audacity in spades! Every little thing he did got on at least one nerve of his, and yet he said not to push his buttons!

"You have some nerve! Acting like you are doing absolutely nothing wrong and insinuating that my actions are affecting you!"

Demando is so focused on stealing glances over the book he held in his hands for the past 30 minutes without turning a single page he barely register Rubeus’ presence next to him. He’s not really subtle or hard to miss - neither of them are, but Demando fancies himself discreet the same way he likes to think his height is average.

        “Oh, do you, now?”

        Drinking at Reiji’s had become a lot more common. Doing so at the bar was expensive. It was crowded. Everyone around was a bummer. At the apartment, they could laugh and cheer at the television while drunk off of their asses. There was no closing time. No risk of being drunk-in-public.

        And when little phrases like this were uttered, Rio’s liquor-addled brain was allowed to act as recklessly as possible.

        He set the half-full glass of whiskey down on the small table and shifted his body towards the tall redhead. His shoulder slipped under the strong arm that was draped over the back of the couch, fitting nicely in the space made there. His chest pressed against Reiji’s side, and green eyes looked up into smirking browns. Lithe fingers traced from knee to thigh, up his friend’s chest and neck, then along that impossibly strong jawline...

        Oh, he always did like men who could get him in trouble.

"They seem happy. Nice to see at least some of us getting along, huh?"

        “Sure you do.”

        Reiji had street-smarts, but this was a strange and nearly infernal piece of technology. It had a mind of it’s own. It was delicate, yet would run headlong into danger.

        Roombas were not meant to be tried with.

        “Shh... shh...” The motorcycle could wait. The onlookers barely phased him. Nor did the pain in his own hip. His elbow. The shorn-off skin and blood that soaked leather and denim. Thank the Gods he had his helmet on. Scrapes, bruises, and 

        What really mattered to him was Reiji. Equally clad, but he was at the front of the crash. He did not have the luxury of rolling away from the wrecked bike after the driver sped from the side-road, giving Reiji no time to break. And yet, the other was trying to stand on a leg very obviously bent in a direction it should not. Not to mention any other wounds yet unseen or unacknowledged.

        “It’s... Just don’t move, okay?” Off to the side, he could hear the frantic calling of paramedics. Help should be there soon. Soon... oh, hopefully soon would be just in time.

Was looking, and sticks his tongue back out at Rubeus.

        “Mmhmmm...”

        Another round. The glass was put down in front of Iarios, and he picked it up. It was so much stronger than the sickly-sweet wine he used to drown in when sad. These drinks had body. They burned a little going down. It made him feel warm and comfortable. Or was that just because he was with Reiji? How was he to know that the failed interviewee he got caught in an elevator with would become so close?

        “Drink up~.” And half the glass was gone in a single drink. He smiled, still settled against Reiji’s chest.