Brunch Gone Wild(e) [closed]

[eliotwaugh]

Well, his magic is still a little iffy sometimes, and he still doesn't know how/if he'll get home, and he really only has two friends so far, but god damn it, his apartment is an overdone neo-victorian salon set up, and he can have a fucking party again. This is so important.

Eliot's on his second Bellini when Sunshine arrives, early as agreed, with muffins as promised. He gives her a kiss on each cheek with a flamboyance usually reserved for Janet (Sunshine is sort of his replacement Janet, he guesses, and so far she doesn't want to sleep with him, which is kind of a step up), takes the bag and trades her a cocktail. She has catching up to do.

Sunshine is great in the kitchen, no surprises there, and she gets tipsy really quick, and she is adorable tipsy. This is gonna be great. Eliot feels good. For the first time in... kind of a while.

He's just checking the time on his phone when the buzzer goes, so he gives Sunshine reign of the omelettes for a moment while he goes to buzz Johnny in, then waits at the door, feeling maybe a little nervous. But only a little.

Comments

[erratic_hematic]

"How are you real, arsehole." How is he even supposed to answer that? It's a stupid question. The show of solidarity from the other guy only earns him a glare. Spike doesn't need help here, and he definitely isn't looking for it from someone called rabbit man.

The corner of his mouth ticks up when Sunshine leans into him. This whole thing is ridiculous, but she's trying so hard to help. "I don't know. Alternate dimensions? Maybe there's one where you're a show."

He takes a sip of his drink, then a thought occurs to him quite suddenly. "What's it rated? The show." Last time he checked, he life wasn't exactly PG. Eliot could have seen all sorts of things.

[eliotwaugh]

"You're so famous," Eliot insists, trying with all his drunken earnestness to impart the full value of how awesome this is. "You're William the Bloody!"

He spares a glance at Johnny, who just doesn't get it, poor thing. His adolescence must have been so bereft.

Spike's question throws him a bit. "I don't know, Buffy was forever ago, I don't remember 90s TV ratings, gosh. It was like..." He makes a vague stabby motion to try and illustrate his thought process. "Like vampires were all dusty, not gory. Or, shit, is that not what you meant? Are you worried I've seen you naked?" He grins at Spike and raises the sauciest of eyebrows. "No, I'm pretty sure I would remember that."

and in that moment I swear we were all Johnny Truant

[johnny_truant]

Johnny gives Eliot a look the equivalent of a defensive what?, and then proceeds to drink down his Bellini with slow, ponderous determination. Oh god, what is he doing. What is he saying. Eliot. Eliot stop. Stop that at once.

He's in no position to make any of this stop. It is an extremely watchable trainwreck.

[rae_of_sun]

Awww, such a grump. Sunshine tsks her disapproval of calling Eliot an asshole, then commences rubbing Spike's stomach in a soothing sort of way. He's so tense, gods. She's having trouble remembering why he would be. It's pretty sheer to be famous, right? And it's not like he has to actually deal with the trappings of fame except for right now, amongst friends, with booze, which is basically the best way to deal with anything.

But Eliot's talk of seeing Spike naked tugs her right out of her reverie, and she lifts her head with a delighted little hiccup of a laugh. "You would!" she agrees, with feeling. "Gods, he's beautiful, like a frigging--like a Greek sculpture or something. But better endowed!" See, Spike, she's got your back, no need to be embarrassed. She gives his stomach an encouraging pat, then brightens as another thought occurs to her. "Have you seen him shirtless?" she asks Eliot with poorly repressed giddiness. "Have you seen his abs??"

[erratic_hematic]

Sunshine seems to have forgotten that these aren't Spike's friends as well as hers, and they're instead two random people, one of which knows intimate details about Spike's life that he hasn't even shared with her. So, yes. He's tense. He definitely didn't need his cock described to two poofs.

He throws back the rest of the drink, sets it aside, then slips his arm around Sunshine's back and hefts her to her feet. "C'mon, pet. Time to go."

[eliotwaugh]

He leans forward, because he does recall said abs being fantastic. Fortunately for Spike's virtue, Eliot is struck by a thought that keeps him from reaching his goal. "Oh shit, is he all cold though? How does that work?" He definitely doesn't want to go around touching people's bellies if his hand is gonna stick to them like an ice cube. Yick.

And now they're going? Ugh, vampires are so much grumpier than Eliot expected, this is not how he wanted this to shake out. He frowns. "Aw, but drinking!"

[johnny_truant]

Johnny, meanwhile, has accomplished a minor spit-take within the confines of his cocktail glass, and is now drinking the rest of the Bellini down in an effort to avoid EVERYTHING THAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. He does not want to think about the angry vampire's abs, or vampire coldness, or anything. This brunch has gone about as far as it can, in his limited experience, and he's more than happy to let Spike just escort Sunshine home. They have a lot to talk about. And so do he and Eliot. Fuck. He just drank all his cocktail. He looks around, bereft, wanting another, but all the things are so far awaaaay.

[rae_of_sun]

And suddenly, Sunshine is on her feet. She looks down at Eliot's couch, her expression not unlike that of a dog being abandoned at the pound: she thought they were friends, what happened? Come back, couch, she'll be good. But she's really no match for Spike's vampiric strength and comparative sobriety, and her only form of protest is a pout and an, "Awww."

Eliot's question earns him a baffled look - how 'cold' does he think room temperature is? "He's not cold," she says, mildly disparaging. Then, because Spike seems awfully eager to leave for some reason, "Waaaaait, I need my bag. It's..." she peers around the room, and it's good that Spike's holding her up because she'd definitely be keeling over without the extra support, "hiding. No! It's there," she concludes, pointing triumphantly to the coat rack by the door, then pouting again as she realizes it's on their way out.

[erratic_hematic]

Spike is perfectly willing to leave without Sunshine's bag if it will get him out of here before people besides Sunshine start touching him. It's only it's placement by the door that saves it from being left behind.

He moves Sunshine along as quickly as possible. "Say goodbye." He grabs the bag and waves in a vague approximation of a goodbye. Once Sunshine says her drunken goodbyes, they're out the door.

Now there's only the daunting prospect of getting back home.

[eliotwaugh]

The post-party depression comes on almost as soon as the door shuts, and Eliot slumps back over the the couch, staring at the empty glasses and plates of food. He doesn't want to lose the good feelings he had, and he doesn't want Johnny to leave, but he distantly remembers a promise to have an actual talk, and Eliot is in no shape to do any such thing.

"So," he says, taking a deep breath as he looks at Johnny. "That was fucking weird." He tilts his head in the direction of the liquor, silently asking, more drinking?

[johnny_truant]

"No shit," says Johnny with a little nod that means Yes, please.

"I mean, once you get past the, the Rift period, and the casual fucking proof of the multiverse, and the angels and Satan and vampires and magical magic people... and aliens... and the fucking dreams. I mean, you'd think there'd be nothing left that could be that fucking weird. But hey, you found it. You found that exact thing."

He flops back, staring up at the ceiling. "Actually you know what I'm not sure i should drink anymore," he says. "I think... I think I might die." He sits up again, as if with sudden inspiration. "Do you wanna make out?"

[eliotwaugh]

"I am pretty good at making people feel as awkward as possible," he agrees. "I don't think that counts as like, a power though."

As Eliot slouches on the couch he manages to tilt enough that his head ends up in Johnny's lap. Drinking is overrated anyway. Sometimes (shh it's okay alcohol, he didn't mean it). This is a much better idea, and one that is less likely to result in him being sick. And Johnny won't die! He doesn't want Johnny to die. So it's a good plan all round.

"Yes," he says with emphasis and conviction, right into Johnny's leg. "Let us do that thing."

and drunk brunch crashes gently to a halt

[johnny_truant]

Johnny snorts when Eliot faceplants onto him. He sits up and reaches down to pet his hair (which isn't particularly pettable but that is well beside the point), and realizes he's suddenly very dizzy.

"C'mere," he says, nudging Eliot up. "Let's... ooh. Fuuuck. I don't think I can be upright. Where's th' bed."

Eliot leads the way, sort of, with Johnny awkwardly helping him walk down the hall. Now that there's no more adrenaline of conversation they're both falling apart in a hurry. They've barely gotten any clothes off at all when they both end up collapsing bedward.

"Hey," he mumbles, touching Eliot's face awkwardly. "Heyyyy. Y're hot."

That's the last remotely coherent thing he manages to get out before they're both unconscious.