psychoshenanigans | Nebulous // AU

This is awful simple, isn't it?

[He understands the point, of course, and he fully knows where this could go, but with the four of them in this very room, of course he's going to try to prod for more. Slipping away from Robin's side, he extends his arms in something of a wide shrug, eyes on the mat already set up on the floor.]

Why not add a few rules?

[Mattias plucks the box from Robin's hand, frowning at the instructions and then the mat sprawled in front of them. Sticking close to Robin's side, he gestures with the box in hand.]

For what? A few more inanities? [Tossing the box back onto the table, he glides away from it, crouching down at the corner of the mat. The mere feeling of the material makes him wrinkle his nose.] Really, I fail to see the appeal in twisting ourselves in knots.

[Nel's a little guy, but he's a bit stronger than he looks, and he takes given instructions very seriously. so, when that assignment is to procure refreshments for a small get-together, he... brought all he could carry.

who knows how he managed get the door open without dropping anything. with beers, larger bottles, and a halfhearted assortment of things to mix with, he can be heard clattering through the doorway before he even says a thing.]

--Hey! Uh... I'm here!

[no, by all means, take the box. Robin remains in the exact same spot with his hand still up as if holding it--entirely for dry comedic effect--as he watches Mattias complain about his proposed past-time.]

Well, it was suggested to me as a drinking game, which isn't quite covered by the basic, toddler-friendly... rules...

[the clinking distracts him. he drops all of his thoughts in an instant, abandoning his two guests in favor of cheerily greeting the third.]

Speak of their names, the party's arrived! [he starts taking things out of Nel's precariously-balanced arms. he hasn't looked back to see the others' reactions, yet.] Say hi to Nel, everyone.

[God, Mattias is such a drag when it comes to fun like this. The word of it being a drinking game is promising, in a way, as he hopes that it can be provided enough to get Mattias to loosen up. He thinks he'd even take his obnoxiousness while drunk over this cockblocking.

Nel enters the room before he can proceed with any other comments about how they should make it strip twister, and the attention of each of them seems to shift. Robin, first, and as Oren notes him taking those drinks, he swoops in quickly to place a hand to Nel's back as an affectionate gesture.

The smirk he gives is certainly friendly.]

The party, indeed. [Letting that pause stretch out just a moment too long, he smiles, pulling his own hand back as he straightens.] Look at all this! Hello again, Nel.

[Mattias nearly faceplants at Nel's voice. Instead, he gracefully wavers, catching himself with one hand before clambering to his feet. Careful to keep his face away from Nel, he plucks a beer from Robin's hands in passing.]

Ah—Hello. It's nice to meet you.

[More mumbled than anything. The excuse of looking for a bottle opener gives him both reason to keep his back to Nel and provide him with the drink he desperately needs to cope with the "party".

Ah, success. He pops the top off and downs half the bottle in one go.]

[wow. this is already the best party he's been to in a long time. he'd been excited to spend time with Robin, happy to meet some of Robin's friends... but all at once, this is like a whole little surprise party thrown just for him.

he's caught off guard at the touch on his back, glancing up from handing things off to Robin to see that face. and a stupid giggle immediately leaves him.]

Oh... hey.

[and then he glances past to see who else is here... and his surprised, stupid giggle gets a little worse.]

--Hey.

[Robin turns around to put things down on his table, missing the whole tone of Oren's greeting and the way that Mattias quickly overreacts. it isn't until he turns around, arms empty again, and sees Mattias halfway through a beer bottle that he realizes something is wrong.]

Oy, wait-- [a little detail catches up to him, and he suddenly swings his attention on Oren.] --'Again?'

Edited (cough edits for clarity cough) 2015-07-19 04:57 (UTC)

Of course!

[He mentally waves off Mattias' drinking in the background. Really, it's just a step in the right direction for all of this. It's already become a lot more interesting. Smiling in the most pointed way he can, he lets his eyes linger on Nel just long enough before flicking them over to Robin.]

Yes, again! We met and went dancing, of course. He's quite skilled in his own variety, but I do like to think I showed him a few moves myself. [He laughs, pulling back and standing straight as he looks to Nel.] Or am I wrong?

[Nel grins as if Oren's gaze on him is tangible. and he pretty much returns the favor as he answers.

really, there's entirely too much eye-contact going on.]

Yeah. He's a really good dancer...

[his expression flattens very quickly at the mention of "dancing". he's not sure what hurts more, the obvious euphemism, or Oren's really cheesy follow-up.

he looks at Oren, and then at Nel, and then at Oren, before finally glancing back behind himself to grab a beer bottle, knock the cap off against the edge of the table, and start drinking.

a couple of gulps later, he feels ready to come back to the situation.]

So great, that saves me the trouble of boasting to one about the other. Let's get drunk and figure out how this game works.

Will you lag behind us in fun from your own tolerance?

[He teases Robin with a small smile, grabbing his own choice of drink as he steps past him. He'll use the bottle opener, himself, setting it back on the counter with a glance over to Mattias.]

From what I understand, we spin and go in order, following the instructions? Mattias, you go first.

[Robin, please take the cap off in the right way, you're damaging the furniture. Oren's method is much more acceptable and Mattias rewards him with a cleared throat and a complete denial.]

Actually, I thought I would resign myself to the spinner. It's best to have an impartial party for these things.

[Also, he doesn't want to have his body tangled with Nel again. Talk about uncomfortable. Casting the briefest, nervous glance at him, he settles down cross-legged and takes the spinner into his lap. Taking a sip, he does a "practice spin" and watches the pointer blur.]

First turn is vacant. Someone else go.

[Nel scoots over toward Robin and all the booze, and gives him one of those grins that either means he hasn't noticed any awkwardness at all, or is totally immune to it. he also sneaks a sly little glance in Mattias' direction while he starts busying around with the bottles.

is there a game going on on? rattling, clinking, opening one of the large bottles, he's busy setting something up on the counter.]

Hey, Robin, do you have any shot glasses here? We can probably use little cups if we need to, but...

[(this is his furniture and he can damage it however he wants, thank you.) he takes another long drink while Mattias continues to be No Fun, and Nel rattles around next to him.]

Proposal: every time we fuck up, we take a shot. Impartial judge has to take two. [mean? maybe. but he smirks over the rim of his bottle.] Maybe impartial judge calls punishable fouls, as well. Shotglasses are in the cabinet on the left, there.

[hopping from one topic to the other, as he does--he gestures for Nel where they're located.]

Who goes next, Oren?

Good rules!

[He smiles, sweeping his gaze across from Robin, to Nel, all the way over to Mattias, who he approaches. Taking one last drink from his bottle, he sets it down by Mattias before leaning forward to flick the spinner in his lap.

He waits until it's stopped completely, smiling as he points out where it's landed to Mattias.]

Left hand on blue. Unless the impartial judge has any arguments? [He smirks at Mattias as he pulls back, practically dancing over to the mat where he ducks down and places his left palm flat on a blue circle.]

Who shall go next? Nel?

[Honestly, he doesn't know who to be more annoyed with, Robin or Oren. He scowls at the addendum to the proposal, glaring at Robin as he goes along with it anyway. Bringing the shot glasses over to the side, he resettles only for Oren to pick up where Robin left off. The flick, the teasing, the leaning all get a glare but, again, he does nothing more. Well, nothing more than finish his first bottle, grumbling:]

The impartial judge is considering becoming partial.

[Nel perks his ears when he hears his name, but it's in the middle of him pouring a line of shots, so he only glances up a little. the liquid in the little glasses is completely and menacingly clear.]

Huh? What?

--Hey, let's do shots.

[he snickers over all of this... he's pretty sure this will end in a wreck, but at least it's finally getting funny.]

Okay, Nel. Give the boys their shots and then hurry up and take a turn.

[he helps himself to one of the already-poured shots, downing it like it was water and not cheap poison. puts it right back into the line like a pro.

to Nel:] You do know that you're playing too, right? Did you catch the gist of how it works?

Edited 2015-07-19 19:25 (UTC)

Ah, yes, could you bring me mine? We each spin and place a body part on a colored circle depending on how it lands. I'm not allowed to move from here, now, you see.

[That's the use of an impartial (or partial) judge, he guesses. But if that's not incentive enough:] Think of it as another dance.

[He lets that set in just for a moment before looking over to Mattias.] Right?

Wrong.

[He hears that jab and rejects it, Oren, speaking so dry he could leave a man parched.] Such a dance would be slow-moving, tedious and unpleasant to look at so long as you're involved.

[He's not sure if he could say a more obvious lie than that but... Who's judging? Accepting the shot, he downs it in one go and hands it back, accidentally meeting Nel's gaze. His throat tightens and he pales and blushes simultaneously, reminded of their last encounter. Quickly, he looks away, fingers curling into his palm. His job as impartial judge suddenly feels like a treat, the spinner a faithful friend. At least this way, he won't have to get involved. Won't get reminded of their uncomfortable history and bear the prospect of repeating it.

He flicks the spinner and yearns for another beer.]

Left foot yellow. For whoever's going next.

I know how to play.

[--to either Robin or Oren, as he deftly takes his shot and serves up the other ones... which means that he isn't actually listening to the instructions at all. he's too busy leering cutely at Mattias as he leans down to hand out his drink, and slinking a little in the way that he ambles up to Oren to bring him his.

and as he comes in close so that Oren can get to the glass... he takes his turn.

which, turns out to be completely wrong. he gets the foot part right, but it's only to daintily put his bare little toes on Oren instead of a particular circle of the mat--right on the back of Oren's hand, near his wrist, without putting any pressure down. with his leg so delicately poised and angled, and his opponent's face now so close to his upper thigh, there isn't anything about this that is not suggestive.

this is how you play, right?]

[maybe he shouldn't bother playing. maybe he should just sit back here, with his table and his booze, and watch everyone else make completely fools out of themselves.]

...Aaand Nel wasn't listening at all.

[but the comment's followed by a snerk, as he picks up his bottle to come get closer to the game.]

You wound me, Mattias, truly.

[The sarcasm there is evident. Please, like those words erase all of the ways he eyeballed him in the past. Waving that off for now, he accepts the shot glass with his free hand, downing it before he realizes that Nel is "taking his turn."

He watches him completely disregard the rules for the game, eyes trailing up from his toes to his face. A grin slowly forms, and he jokingly nips at the small bit of air between them. Come now, stop teasing.]

Does my hand look yellow to you? You cheat! [He's teasing, but as he rolls the shot glass to the side of the mat (who cares), he reaches to pinch lightly at Nel's foot with the now-free hand. How about they just play like this??]

Spin for Robin, Mattias. [Meanwhile, he tosses that order without even a glance.]

[Oren confirms that he is the living embodiment of embarrassment with that nip. Mattias bites back a groan, rolling his eyes and ignoring the small knot in his stomach. Grabbing the discarded shot glass, he leaves it on the table, glancing at Robin.]

Is it truly a fuck-up if he purposefully decides to ignore the rules?

[He refills the glass as he waits for an answer, flicking the spinner with his free hand.] Right foot blue.

I was listening! ...Was it wrong? This is how someone taught me to play.

[and he squeals, ineffectually squirming to try to get away from Oren's pinching without actually going anywhere.

...it's obnoxious.]

Robin, you're blue? Can I be green?

No, Nel... [maybe the only problem with dragging all of these boys together into one room is that there's not enough booze in the world to deal with it.]

People aren't colors, that means the color that's on the ground.

[he finishes his bottle. he may be racing, at this point.]

You give him way too much credit.

[he leans down, gives Mattias a pat on the shoulder, and then good-naturedly puts his right foot on a blue spot.]

[Luckily for Nel, the disgusting taste of whatever drink he just gave him is distracting Oren from continuing his nipping. He laughs, letting it fade as he blinks off the taste, eyes drifting back to Mattias.]

Let someone show you your next move. [That was to Nel, offhanded before he's calling to Mattias.]

Now spin for me! Let's keep this going, shall we? It's a shame you're so far, Mattias.

A foul it is.

[He mutters, downing his two-shot punishment. They go down easier than before and he's not sure that's a good thing. Shaking his head clear, he gets to filling the rest.]

What is this stuff any—Shit.

[Small panic! His hand lingered too long on two of the glasses. A small puddle forms beneath either one. With no towels within six inches of his hands, Mattias scrambles for the next best thing. Slapping his palms in the liquid, he attempts to dry it before realizing that no, that's not working either. Uh. Fuck. Mouth?? He slurps at the puddle but barely anything comes up. Scowling, he leaves it, sipping the liquid past the rim of either shot glass before turning around.]

Time for another round—dammit.

[In an attempt to step around something he had... sworn had been there, the shot sloshes again, practically emptying itself onto the spinner. He looks down at it, then at the cup. To Oren, he shrugs, downing the rest of the spilled shot.]

The, uh. [He furrows his brow at the empty glass. How to make this into a joke... ] Holy... alcohol commands you move your "right foot yellow".

[Two shots still intact, he holds one out to Oren before realizing the conundrum. If he just told him to move a hand and he's already got one placed down in a game where hands can't move... how is he going to drink it? Frowning, he kneels down beside Oren, smacking his arm before tipping up his chin.] Wait, wait. Hold on. Open your mouth.

[Even if he doesn't, Mattias is doing it for him, sticking in a finger to hold it open and bringing his own face far too close just to ensure that he actually pours it in. It ends up there, for the most part, and he grins at Oren's tongue in satisfaction.] There. Who's next?

[and Nel watches Mattias shuffle around in all of his clumsy, alcohol-covered glory with a giddy grin. wow, this was going to be fun much faster than he'd even guessed. until Mattias keels over or throws up, of course. he's guessing he's got to capitalize on this quickly.]

Me next!

[purely because Nel is still balanced there (now with two of the boys leaned down in front of him) and whatever they're doing looks fun.

is he volunteering for a turn? or a drink? or just... to have Mattias leer over him like that? he'll take whatever.]

Lightweight...

[it's one of the nicer things he could have said. and it's with another laugh, too--maybe the rules aren't so important. they're going to melt holes through this shitty plastic sheet if they keep spilling the booze everywhere.

while Oren (and Nel?) are taking their turns, he tries to gesture for Mattias to bring him one of the bigger bottles. like, the whole bottle. just fuck him up, man, he's got a huge magical-blood-fueled tolerance to overcome before he can even feel anything.]

[Right foot yellow... Oren is just now looking away from Nel to find the yellows as Mattias grabs at him like that. Startled at first, he opens his mouth to protest only to find a finger holding it there for the next shot. Ah, these are strong shots. Usually he'd have to wait a fair amount of time to see Mattias end up like this.

His free hand, which is still free since Mattias had commanded him to move his foot to yellow, reaches to grab Mattias'. Holding it in place, he swallows the alcohol and closes his mouth around his finger, pulling it out with a purposeful slowness that's meant as a show to all three men in the room. Mattias in particular, of course.

He looks up at him as he pulls out the last of his finger with a pop.]

Go on, then. [Nel's next, and then whatever Robin wants. Smiling in that charming way of his, he lets Mattias' hand drop and shifts so that his right foot touches to a yellow spot.

He's going to try playing for as long as they can manage, okay.]

[Really, he should have expected that. Oren takes his finger in and he watches, hypnotized and breathless. Warmth itches at him and he wonders if it's just the alcohol. From the heavy look he gives Oren, the answer is pretty clear. He's hovering near his lips, trying to figure out if kissing him would count as a foul and how comfortable the mat would be if he lay on his back when Nel interrupts. He blinks, pulled away from the beginnings of a fantasy and looks up at him, dazed.]

You next?

[Oh. Right. The game. Or was it the shot? Maybe both. Probably both. He wavers as he stands, the world swaying beneath him, but he manages. Catches Robin's gesture as he raises his head and gestures for him to wait, one minute only vaguely knowing what he requested. His mind is still on Oren's mouth.

Picking up the next shot, he flicks the spinner with his toe.]

Left hand blue. [He murmurs as he sidles closer. Even now he's hesitant to approach, a skittish animal to Nel's overeager child, but the buzz of the alcohol dulls it. He bends over him, bringing their faces close, and tilts his head back with a gentle, controlling hand to the back of his neck. Something is muttered—either "open up" or "here you go"—before the shot is poured into his mouth. Again, he lingers, making sure it went down smoothly before retreating. The class is set off to the side and the spinner is flicked again.]

Robin, left hand yellow. [He draws back, frowning at the spinner as he turns and stands.] A lot of hands, isn't it? It seems I'll have to pour for all of you. You're lucky I chose to be impartial.

[What had Robin wanted again? Oh. Right. He grabs the largest, fullest bottle he can, pauses, and then picks up another one to accompany it. Absinthe and everclear. Such odd names. He frowns at the labels as he delivers them to Robin. Even respecting his distance, he stands too close though he tries not to look at him. The memory of Oren's lips has left nothing but temptation behind. He has to stop himself from wondering what Robin's might taste like.

He presents both bottles with some flair, gripping the neck and holding them out so Robin can read the labels.] I think I knew someone named Absinthe. Take your pick. [And then, because he might be kind of hopeful:] Do you need me to pour it for you?

Nebulous // AU

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