Drunk with a stranger (Jolt)

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"Fuck you!"

What a wide range of vocabulary he has... Nikk wasn't one to talk about vocabulary though, he could barely through together simple slurs in English. But really, fuck this, fuck that, fuck you, and just any and every variation of fuck was a very selective vocabulary. Though, Nikk didn't have a problem with it. Nikk stood quickly, getting some rum, his bottle of vodka, and a bag of chips, along with the money that Will laid down. This was his simple little mind trick gone wild. He'd never really stole this much in one night from the bar, but oh well, it wasn't like they were gonna catch him tonight anyways.

He saw the lights dim, flicker, and pop back to normal, and on a more serious plane of thought, he guessed that Will had something to do with electrical fields. That would explain the burning feeling when Will decked him in the face. But anyways, he followed hot behind Will, on his trail. There was something that he liked about him, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Hey, come on! I vas just playing, no?"

He didn't want to get punched again, so he stayed about 4 feet behind Will, not too close to him. "Come on, just drink vith me, please." Nikk was playing the kindness card, hoping that that may lead him to a less bad side, of Will's bad side.

[Jolt]

Hey, come on! I vas just playing, no? Will does not turn back to acknowledge that he's being followed, knowing by the sound of footsteps that Nikk isn't going to just let him walk away. Jesus. What does it take to get rid of this guy? Will's running out of ideas, the primal gears in his mind working furiously, so fiercely to the point that they are grating each other apart. Fighting him didn't work, ignoring him.. then what the hell else is there? He grinds his teeth and stops, the muscles in his shoulders clenched tightly.

Will knows good and well that there is no welcome place for him to go as it is.. except for perhaps the streets, and even that is an unwelcoming prospect in some ways. He has his freedom, but not much else to his name. He's burnt, tired, and on his last nerve, but goddamnit if getting plastered didn't just sound like the fucking grandest idea. And so again, Nikk pleads from behind him, though at a distance. Come on, just drink vith me, please? Hesitant, he considers this offer, though perhaps it is not so much considering as it is brooding.

Fuck it.

Wary of keeping his back turned so long, Will turns partially, as though checking to make sure that Nikk is still following him. "....fine," he hisses through clenched teeth, more to himself, perhaps for only the second time that evening using a word that began with the letter 'f' that didn't finish as fuck.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"...fine."

Will just kept walking, and walking, and walking...need I say more. Just when Niik was about to give up on him, feeling like Will was just plain out uninterested in a drinking buddy, he was surprised. "Huh?" was what first came out of his mouth. He wasn't 100% sure on what just happened. Did he really just say an f word that didn't involve fuck or wasn't fuck itself? Nikk shook his head and kept walking toward Will.

He finally reached him, still with alcohol, chips and all in his hands. They were still fairly exposed to the outside world, and not to mention under aged according to American drinking regulations. Will didn't look all that happy with Nikk-but that's why they had alcohol right? Nikk walked around a corner into an alley where they could sit in seclusion from the rest of the world. Nikk waved his hand at Will, kind of silently telling him to come into the alley where they could sit and drink in peace. As Nikk expected, Will rolled his eyes and stalked to the alley. Nikk was even sure that he said a few f bombs on the short 2 second journey over. "Lets drink here." He set down his bottles and chips. He sat on the curve, wondering if Will would do the same. "Rum or vodka comrade?" He held up both bottles to the approaching Will.

[Jolt]

Naturally, Will mutters and growls as he follows after Nikk, unhappy about being waved over like some dog house pet. Suspicious of the alleyway that Nikk chooses he lingers near the entrance, scrutinizing it beneath his harsh gaze. Apparently from his stance, he still does not trust the Russian, as if subtly expecting a band of foreigners of some variety to fall from the sky and to jump him. He edges in eventually, but turns and keeps his back to the wall, choosing not to sit, once again making a valiant attempt of asserting his dominance as Nikk sits down. Let's drink here. A 'hn' noise rises in the back of Will's throat, indifferent to where they would drink, or more importantly where he would drink.

He'd drink on the goddamn moon for chrissake.

Rum or vodka comrade? The tongue-in-cheek reference obviously does not register in Will's mind, flying clear of his head and landing somewhere in the clouds. History had just been another class that he had never bothered to pay attention to, and undoubtedly Will perhaps could not even locate Russia on a map. Drinks however, are a subject that he knows something about, or the effects thereof at least on a firsthand basis.

"Just give me the vodka...," he growls, reaching for the bottle, not one to ask for something that is already being offered to him.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

Will was asserting his dominance over Nikk. Nikk could feel it and accepted it, he even kinda felt a little turned on by it. Maybe it was just the alcohol, who knew? Will had a rough, sturdy, but somehow comforting feeling about him, at least to Nikk anyways.

"Just give me the vodka...,"

Secretly, Nikk was sad that Will chose the tasty, wonderful, delightfully intoxicating, vodka. As Will reached down and snatched the vodka, Nikk sniffled to himself. Rum, better then nothing I guess... He took the rum bottle, opening it slowly. When he had the cap off he tossed it behind him taking a large swig right out of the bottle. His face puckered up from the taste of the rum; he didn't drink it regularly and it had a different sting to it than vocka did. But hey, if it got him drunk, it made him happy.

"So Vill is it?" He looked up to him, taking another swig of the rum. "Vodka is growing on you isn't it?" He smiled, hoping he'd just lighten up a little. He had trust issues, which were evident, but come on. Nikk would do a quick tele-meld with him soon if he didn't lighten up some how. He wanted so much to show Will that he was an ok guy; he just wanted a friend more then that.

[Jolt]

So Vill is it? A muscle at Will's eye actually twitches as he brings the bottle down after a long swig, trying furiously to remember if he told the motherfucker his name, but the buzz of the alcohol is making it hard to remember much else than the fact that he's standing and drinking, the feeling having gone at last out of his sore body. Some part of him convinces his forebrain that he'd told--whoever the fuck this is--his name out of some lapse of focus, and he does not fight it for now. Vodka is growing on you isn't it? The redhead grunts, taking another swig that this time almost ends spilling down his front, starting to get sloppy.

" 'S a drink in'it?" he mutters, seeming to get somewhat lazy with his words, not bothering to finish them out completely. The taut tension holding his muscles tight has only relinquished a slight hold, and he still manages the same moody scowl, though not as extreme to the point of considering the idea of looks killing someone.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

The world was starting to get a whole lot more 'swirly' then what it already was. The vodka from earlier was starting to come crashing down on him. Nikk was a very happy drunk, but also very lovey and touchy. He took another swig of the rum before setting the bottle down, ending up in it tipping over and spilling out. "Ut-oh!" He says smiling, fumbling to his feet, leaning against a wall closer to Will.

"You know, all alcohol is good. All alcohol." He smiled at Will, he got more and more attractive, Nikk wanted to jump all over him. He eyed Will up and down; he was some serious eye candy. Nikk still had enough common sense though not to do anything of the sort, not yet at least. Nikk was really just looking for companionship, sort of like what Warren and Josh had going on; he was soo jealous of them.

" 'S a drink in'it?"

Nikk shook his head heavily, leaning heavily against the wall. "Da, it is." He started to sweat and get heat flashes. He quickly pulled off his shirt, revealing his upper body. Nikk was nicely toned, he had a six pack, good upper chest, and clean cut look about him. His torso on up was lightly glazed in sweat, he was getting really warm. "Are you getting hot, I'm fucking hot." He started to use 'Willenese'.

[Jolt]

You know, all alcohol is good. All alcohol. Another grunt is all that is elicited from Will, eyeing Nikk warily as he lurches to his feet and leans against the wall, although it is clear he agrees at which the rate he's consuming his drink. He lifts up a corner of his mouth in a sneer as Nikk smiles at him, apparently unimpressed or mocking the gesture. The drink starts to kick in, and the redhead welcomes the tipsy-turvy shake of the earth beneath him, more than eager to forget the events of the day. Fuck Pyro. Fuck the Brotherhood. He doesn't give a damn. Will swallows another mouthful of his drink, shoving the unpleasant memories from his mind. At least his head doesn't hurt anymore.

He growls at Nikk as the taller of the two relieves himself of his shirt, glistening in a sheen of sweat. Will stirs but doesn't move, scoffing into his drink. Are you getting hot, I'm fucking hot. "No," is his grumble of a response, avoiding the sight of his now shirtless and drunken companion. Slowly, tension releases its hold on Will's limbs until he's leaning slack against the walll, a line of sweat starting at his brow. His shirt is sticking to him now, outlining the shape of his compact body.

Will's played this game before--getting drunk and getting lucky all in the same night. Kevin had been damn good at that game, the best perhaps when it came to the somber redhead, knowing him better than the back of his own hand. Sometimes he'd told himself he'd never become the opposite player of that match, or that he'd win, when in reality it happened over and over and Kevin moved first.

He at last finishes off all that's left in the bottle with one final gulp, letting it slip from his hand and 'clunk' on the alleyway floor. Will growls again, low in his chest and rubs at the collar of his shirt, using it to mop the line of sweat that's gone cold over him on his face. Unabashed, he glowers, eyeing Nikk in an unreadable fashion of what he has intended.