Nor // AU

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[everyone's pretty thrilled that the two odd-men-out have finally been sent up to the surface for an extended mission. the underground world gets a little peace and quiet, and the boys get to stretch their legs. the sniper is much easier to assuage when there's a sun in the sky and more than cell walls to keep him occupied.

they've found a little bar in which to bide their time; shoved between a smoke shop and a greasy restaurant, it's a prime spot for anyone who wants to kick back after their shitty day job. it's dark, it's noisy. smells kind of like sweat and the cigarettes everyone's smoking just out back. someone is almost always blocking the hallway to the restrooms with their oblivious mass. but the neon signs reflect back through the lines of glasses and bottles pretty nice, and the booze is cheap if you order the right things, and there are enough chatty pricks around to keep Robin from getting bored. Irahl, for the most part, has had the luxury of getting plastered in peace.]

Comments

[indigochild]

[oh, and there is an answer as to whether he's actually drunk or not. he's focusing on his own feet, carefully monitoring the ground in front of him, and then Robin goes and suddenly throws it all off. he knocks him off course mid-step, stumbling up those long legs of his and sending him staggering a hilarious few steps off to the side.

he rolls with it, luckily, and continues on until he finds his feet again so that he doesn't actually fall. which means he doesn't wander back to the same straight path he'd been following before until long, drunken moments later.]

...I never said that. [--once he's straightened out and carrying on like Robin never tripped him up.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Wow.

[he's... a little impressed. Irahl didn't drop his bottles or anything. he was a little concerned that he might have to dive in for an assist--but there he goes, wobbling back and heading in a straight line like nothing even happened.

so Robin catches up and takes the lead again, tucking his own bottles more securely, cutting them around a corner.]

...You like boys?

[this must be the pesky, irritating stage of Robin's night.]

[indigochild]

[pesky. definitely irritating. but Irahl isn't anything if he's not patient, long-suffering, and a monumental challenge to ruffle.

he takes the turn--both figuratively and literally--without a misstep.]

You like boys.

[he's heard the rumors.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[the well-timed comeback gets a low and somewhat-appreciative whistle from him, breaking into a tipsy little giggle.]

Don't be gross. [said despite a wide grin.] I mean guys. Fine adult men like yourself.

[indigochild]

Like you?

[they can continue to just bat the ball back and forth into each other's courts, sure.

and he's still looking at the ground in front of his feet as he goes. it's maybe so he can concentrate. walking like he's sober while also smoothly navigating this conversation is a feat of drunken willpower right now.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Like me?

[he shoots the question right back at him, with a flirty tone. it'll backfire in seconds, but it's funny for the second or two it sits there.]

[indigochild]

Just guessing that's where this was going.

[he smirks then. quietly, down at the ground without looking over. he's finding it funny too.]

And was going to argue that you don't fall into that group anyway.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Don't be rude, either. [he says this with another laugh.] I bought you alcohol, the least you can do is flatter me.

[indigochild]

'S that what you're looking for?

[and he finally surfaces from his straight march forward to look up and... around a little. like he's just noticing now that they're outside and heading somewhere.

he squints a little at the nearest road sign. ...he's maybe not been paying as much attention to what's going on around him as he should have been.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Mostly I just wanna know if you'd fuck a guy or not. This way.

[he turns around another corner. maybe to keep himself from laughing at his own sudden, blunt statement. lucky for Irahl, they don't have too much longer to go until they get to the hotel.]

[indigochild]

[this isn't the first time this has come up, and it won't be the last... but it's still a quiet shock every time. and it's worse when there's implied potential behind it, and not just simple antagonism.

again, he rolls with it--after buying a short moment for whatever internal reaction he's having by taking time to scrutinize another road sign.]

Depends on how much I'm being dared for.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[the most important part here is that, even when joking, it's not completely out of the question.]

Aaaah, all right. Fair enough, Stretch.

[as if prompted by the word, he shifts the bottles into his hands and stretches them up--the liquid slugs around uselessly in the glass, sounding almost musical.]

Yeah, I'm ready to call it a night. I feel burned out.

[indigochild]

Maybe you're getting old.

[he knows it's funny. and the joke mumbles out of him easily, because he's not trying to keep his back out of a conversational corner anymore. he feels just a little bit lighter.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Ha ha. [he smiles. maybe more genuinely and sweetly than he has in a while.] Shut up.

[he doesn't mind letting it sit in silence, after that. he can lead them back to the hotel without incident. he might take them down a wrong turn, once, and they may circle the block before he finds it--but he'll get them there.]

[indigochild]

[and Irahl hardly notices any wrong turns, or is at least quiet about them. wordless and content. especially with silence settling between them, he falls into a nice traveling trance for those final blocks leading up to their destination.

with Robin claiming to be burned out, and everything going quiet, he's probably assuming that his night is at an end. no more excitement, and maybe no more conversation. he's already winding down and probably even thinking about sleep.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[the doors creak, the lobby is shady, and their actual room is small and dingy--but at least there's a bed for the both of them. even a shared queen is a nice stretch away from their usual hammock affair. there's running water. all the things you don't miss until you're underground for months and months.

Robin gets back, barely has the foresight to lean over and set his bottles on the ground... before he flops forward onto the bed, landing face-down, arms spread out to take up as much of it as he can.

he makes a happy little noise into the sheets.]

[indigochild]

[while Robin revels in the comfort of the bed, Irahl lingers in the doorway. he's either warily scoping out the room before getting settled, judging Robin for taking up the whole bed... or he's just taking a minute to stand there and be drunk.

eventually, he gets over whatever it is and makes his way in to sit on the very edge of the bed, dropping down with a big, heavy-lunged sigh. and a moment or two after that, he slowly and carefully leeeeeans over to set his own bottles on the floor.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[another contented sound escapes him with the added weight on the bed, even if it's far away... and Robin sits himself up, turning just in time to see a long and defenseless back open to all manner of proverbial backstabs. since he's in a mood, he leans over, draping himself all over Irahl's back and dropping his body weight onto him like a huge cat.

which is very helpful in the sniper not falling off the bed, really.]

[indigochild]

[yeah... there's only a little 'oop' of surprise before Irahl's weight is tipped forward and right over the edge of balance. he can't even properly flail to regain himself, with Robin blanketing him like that. so, he has no choice but to lose his place and slide right off the bed, hitting the floor on one knee and knocking the bottles over with a clatter and a thud.]

Hey--!

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Oop--

[and there's Robin, now wrapped around his shoulders a little too tight, late to the game of realizing everything was falling--one of his hands turned into curled fingers in the extra fabric of his scarf. his feet are still on the bed, propped nicely, keeping him horizontal. turns out he's got pretty good core muscle strength.]

This isn't where I expected this would go...

[indigochild]

[he's not going to ask where Robin had expected it to go. instead, he clumsily tries to shrug him back... which absolutely does not work, with how Robin is leveraged against him.]

...Get off.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Is that a request?

[he cackles, letcherously. his weight pitches a little, like he's going to roll off--but Irahl will probably notice pretty fast that he's pressing his lips to the back of his neck instead. unhelpful.]

[indigochild]

[the reaction is an automatic one. it's probably a good thing that he doesn't fully realize what's really happening before he reacts.

there's a shiver, sure... but more than that, there is the violent reflex to having a vulnerable, nervy place preyed upon.

one arm snaps around to grab a fistful of Robin's shirt at the shoulder, and he's suddenly twisting down from underneath him at the same time... using Robin's own weight to flip him over the dragon's shoulder and onto the floor.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[and that's how Robin got drunkenly flipped over someone's shoulder, onto several knocked-over bottles of booze. thankfully, none of them break--though one of them does go rolling a ways across the carpet, and another is still wedged painfully under his ribs.]

Oooow... [writhing, trying to find the carpet with his hands--] Okay... Fine...

[indigochild]

[and another sign of Irahl's current level of intoxication--he doesn't say a damn thing. just makes a low grunt of annoyance as he shoves himself up to his feet.

and then he's right back down again, reclaiming his seat on the edge of the bed.

Robin and the bottles can just lay there. he doesn't care. he's going to work on getting his boots off.]