avatar_Logan Go

Hit the dance floor running

Started by Logan Go, Aug 02, 2017, 12:49 PM

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"Awww... Does baby get cwanky widdout his widdle dinner?"

That was probably grounds for assault, using baby-talk on Logan. But c'mon. It was just... a Sean thing to do. He did it all the time, to all the guys he knew hated being spoken to like that. Sean even put a fist in front of his mouth and shrugged his shoulders, trying to pull off some kind of cutesy look, before grinning and nudging Logan under the table again, this time not as gently as before. "Weirdo."

At least he was over that weirdness now! Relieved--and willing to buy into the excuse--Sean poked at some more chicken, noting that Logan's appetite seemed to have returned, too. Probably because the tension between them was gone and now the air was clear. Sean's smile softened, just briefly, and he hid it with a spring roll. There was nobody who could ever replace Logan, that was for damn sure. Sean didn't want anybody to try, either.

"Hey, you got anything harder than... this?" Sean wiggled the can of beer in his hand. It wasn't really doing it for him. Sometimes beer was okay but this wasn't even enough to get him buzzed, and he wanted something to help him relax after a tiring night of shedding clothes and humping the stage.

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Logan sent a flat look Sean's way, then gave him a harder nudge against the shin. Gross! Baby talk was the biggest turn off in the world--for which he should be eternally grateful. They seemed to be playing some rough form of footsy under the table. Logan shot a brow upward and then shook his head before making a face at the attempt at being cute that Sean tried to pull off.

"Which of us is the baby now?"

At least he wasn't making the baby faces! He continued to eat sporadically, despite having filled up. Now that he was full and in goo company and away from the weirdness, it was like none of it had ever existed. It was a relief to just sit back in his kitchen and have a meal together, just like the good old days. Finishing off the beer he'd been nursing, he let out a manly belch and got off his ass to go check the cupboards. Anything hard wouldn't be in the fridge.

"Pretty sure I got something."

He had grown something of a collection at this point. Between his place of work and his desire to try his hand at mixing drinks at home, he'd invested in a number of different liquors. It probably made him look like a damn alcoholic but at least he had his pick whenever he wanted something more than beer.

"What do you feel like? Mixed drinks or straight from the bottle?"

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Sean only laughed hilariously at Logan's Look, completely unrepentant. He'd do it again--and they both knew it. But man, it was good to fool around with Logan. This was what they used to do most nights after work: pick up some food, grab some drinks, laze around, crack jokes. Talk about chicks. 

He eased back in his chair and let out a low sigh, patting his stomach. Full... but not so full that he couldn't attempt to eat a fortune cookie. Sean read the little slip of paper that came inside and raised his brows at the generic 'fortune.' Did these things really come true? He half-smiled as he tossed the slip of paper onto the table and glanced up at Logan, who was hovering by the cupboards.

"No mixed drinks dude!" Sean leaned forward, grinning. "Straight from the bottle. We're men!" Men who didn't value their liver particularly, but who needed a liver anyway?

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"Straight from the bottle it is," he said. Then he had to choose which one. Eh, to hell with it. He grabbed a couple of different bottles and hugged them to his chest, bringing them over to Sean and dumping them next to the empty food containers.

Oh jeez, the fortune cookies. Logan eyed them and then reluctantly leaned forward to grab one, too. Cracking it open, he ignored the cookie itself in favor of the fortune. They were normally pretty vague, so they could apply to as many people as possible. Stuff about coming into money or whatever they thought people wanted to hear. The worst were the ones that weren't even fortunes--just stupid sayings and axioms and shit. He laughed aloud when he saw his.

"It's ok to talk to strangers?" he scoffed, tossing his onto the table with Sean's. "These things get dumber every time I check them."


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"My mom always told me not to talk to strangers," Sean laughed, picking up a second fortune cookie and breaking it open. He nibbled in a fragment of it with raised brows, then turned the slip of paper around so that Logan could see it too.

You will find love in an unexpected place.

Yeah, right. Sean wasn't sure he was looking for love anyway and even if he was, he wouldn't find it in an 'unexpected place.' Shaking his head, he tossed it back onto the table and reached for one of the bottles that Logan had lugged over. "Got a pretty nice collection now huh?" He unscrewed the cap and took a manly gulp. Didn't even cough, though the tequila burned a little on the way down. It was the good kind of burn, though; the warming kind.

While not exactly a collector, Sean was something of a connoisseur. He knew the good stuff from the dirt-cheap stuff, at least, although like any normal guy, he started off on beer and moved on to more potent stuff. He wasn't an alcoholic, though; Sean didn't drink to forget or to escape his life or anything. Life was just a little better through the lens of inebriation some nights. Being sober was over-rated, anyway.

The beer didn't do much for him earlier but the harder alcohol sure did. It wasn't long before Sean was smiling and laughing more freely, making the kinds of ribald jokes that came so naturally to him when he was tipsy. At some point, he got off his chair and went around to the other side and flung an arm around Logan, shoving bottles at him and daring him to drink more. Sean didn't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time, to just keep drinking.

"Bet you can't finish this off!" he taunted, leaning heavily into Logan while wiggling an almost-empty bottle around.

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"Mine too."

Any parent worth their salt probably did. Maybe the stupid fortune cookie wanted to get him killed. Or maybe he needed to talk to a stranger like Sean did so he could get her digits. At the sight of Sean's second slip of paper, Logan let out a laugh and picked it up after it had been tossed onto the table. Love in an unexpected place, huh? Logan grinned a lopsided grin and leaned back.

"Maybe it's that girl."

Not that she was from an unexpected place. He dropped the paper back on the table and reached for a bottle of amber liquid. Rum. It was better with a little coke but he choked it down as it was, not wanting to look like a big girl in front of Sean. After the first couple of swigs, it went down a hell of a lot smoother. He didn't even know how much he'd drunk before the jokes were flying and the dares were coming fast and hard. Who was Logan to say no? He grabbed the offered bottle and eyed its contents. A sober Logan would have known it was a stupid and foolish thing to do, to try and down the rest of that bottle. But a drunken one? A drunken one grinned knowingly, making eye contact with Sean before he went for it.

It was almost empty anyhow, but damn, did he feel it after he basically chugged it. He couldn't help coughing afterward, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth as he brandished the now empty bottle before Sean.

"That all you got?" he asked, not even aware of the way his words were now slurring together.

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"AHAHAHAHA!"

Sean roared with laughter at the top of his voice, all because Logan coughed.

Because that shit was HILARIOUS. Everything was HILARIOUS in the moment, from the way Logan brandished the bottle to the way his words ran into each other. Sean wasn't much better with his words, though, muttering something about "Challenge accepted!" before reaching for a bottle. A mostly full bottle.

He tried.

Lord, did he ever try to chug that thing down in one go, but ended up spilling a good portion of it onto himself as some of it went down the wrong way. Coughing violently, he slammed the bottle down onto the table and smacked his own chest hard enough to hurt. "Fuck!" Sean hacked and wheezed as his lungs burned. He used Logan as a prop to keep himself from falling on his ass, except he was falling before he realized he was falling... and taking his poor friend with him.

Somehow he ended up on his back, the back of his head a mass of throbbing pain. "Owww..." Sean groaned, then laughed again--still HILARIOUS, drunkenly pulling Logan up against him for a bro hug to celebrate his spectacular failure. Except in his current position it was kinda just him latching onto Logan, but... whatever.

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"Sssh-shut up! S'not funny!"

He tried to whack Sean somewhere in the vicinity of his chest but his hand just sort of... glanced off an arm somewhere and landed floppily on the table before he let out a laugh of his own at how ridiculous that must have looked. He leaned forward to watch Sean drink greedily from a new bottle. Noticing the amount of liquor in the bottle, Logan smacked his own knee. Then he tapped Sean's knee too, just for good measure.

"No way can you... you can do it!" Then Sean was coughing and the stink of liquor was everywhere. Logan pointed at Sean and laughed right back at him. "Payback!" he crowed, as if he somehow had something to do with what just happened.

Stupidly, he was grabbed by that very same arm before he could take it back and the next thing he knew, in the blink of an eye, they were a tangle of limbs on the floor of the kitchen. The hard, cold floor. Logan let his head slide off Sean's chest so that his cheek could press against the floor. Felt kinda good actually, against his warm, warm face.

"You are so drunk," he accused.

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"So are you," Sean retorted in his sassiest drunk voice, prodding... something. Felt like a liver. Maybe kidney. Hard to tell, with Logan sprawled all over him like that, and his own long limbs tangled with Logan's long limbs. They were like a couple of clumsy drunk jellyfish, laying there on the kitchen floor. Or a couple of really stupid drunk dudes. Or both.

He raised a hand and encountered the back of a head, and soft hair. Hmm. Felt nice. His fingers slid through Logan's hair, toying a little with the strands. Why? Drunk. Sean turned his head. Smelled something nice, so he lowered his head and nuzzled it. Why? Drunk.

Sean was a pretty affectionate drunk, though. Like the kind of affectionate drunk who wrapped his arms around everybody--whether they liked it or not--and called everyone his bro (man or woman). He was also quite the spectacle, and did things he regretted. He did that a lot, and usually there was photographic or videographic evidence that people gleefully played back for him when he had sobered up. As per his sense of humor, Sean laughed everything off. He had that gift of being able to not take himself seriously; life was much better that way.

"Hey. Logan." Sean's silly drunk grin was plastered all over his silly drunk face. "You smell good." Kinda like a chick, but more manly and less... er... chick-y.

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"Mmmmnot." But he so was. He was so drunk and he knew it, which resulted in a bubbling laugh that shook his whole body. He closed his eyes and stopped laughing when his hair was played with though. Ah yeah. When girls did that, he was pretty much putty in their hands. He just liked the feel of fingers running through his hair. It sent pleasurable tingles all up and down his body and he made a soft humming sound.

"Yeah..."

He liked that. His eyes remained closed as he asked, "Hmwhat?" in response to his name. He could just lie there on the hard floor atop Sean for all eternity if he kept playing with his hair. And whatever he was doing with his head. Felt pretty nice. His eyes half opened as he lifted his head. Dark eyes stared at Sean and his strange announcement. Then Logan grinned back, silly and sloppy as Sean's.

"What the hell, man?" He laughed, though. Smelled good? That was probably aftershave. Deodorant. Soap. Clean clothes. Hell, he didn't know. Could just be him and his natural man smell, although he didn't think of that as a good one so much as a... well, a natural one. He leaned in to sniff Sean and then wrinkled his nose and laughed again.

"You... you smell like booze, m'friend."

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"Haha!" Sean laughed. It wasn't HILARIOUS but it was Pretty Funny, that he smelled like booze. Why? Drunk.

"Oh yeah? Well you." He shut his eyes tight, squeezed his eyelids, and then opened them again. When the hell did Logan get this close? Like they could've been nose-to-nose, if Logan scooted up a little bit, or if Sean scooted down. Or if he sorta lowered his head and Logan angled his up. Sean didn't remember getting this close to him!

He did remember falling down, though. He smiled, a goofy and not altogether lucid smile, at the recollection of him smacking his head onto the kitchen tiles. It was sorta funny. He laughed, a low sound that mostly rumbled in the back of his throat. For some reason his fingers were still moving, still threading their way through Logan's hair. Man, he had soft hair, like he conditioned the hell out of it or something.

"Well you." There was a thought in there, it was just hard to get it out. Sean closed his eyes again and shook his head as if to say, forget it. "You smell good," he mumbled, mostly to himself and under the impression that he was thinking it instead of voicing his thoughts out loud.

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"Yeah, me."

He said it like it was a given, despite having no clue what Sean meant when he kept saying you. Whatever it was, he didn't care if it was an accusation or a compliment. He'd take it because he didn't care. Admitting to his faults, whatever. He'd do it. He felt another laugh bubbling up. Everything felt pretty amusing in the moment. Everything was spinning and it was all one hilarious blur.

Felt good, too. The fingers were still in his hair. He let out another soft hum, eyes starting to close again. He breathed in deeply, trying to find out what Sean thought smelled so good. His hands wandered a moment, just because they could. He felt a leg, a thigh. A nice thigh. He felt something between those thighs, too. And hipbones under jeans. And abs. He felt a lot of things.

"You feel good," he said, as if in argument. Were they arguing compliments at one another now? Was that where they'd ended up?

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"Oh yeah?" A note of belligerence crept into Sean's tone, although it ended on a low groan as a hand grazed a sensitive area. Unconsciously he bucked into the hand. Sean didn't know what they were getting competitive about but he wanted to win the whatever-argument that they were having, about... whatever.

As if not to be outdone, his fingers flexed in Logan's hair, clenching around a handful of the soft strands. His other hand moved too, down a shoulder, along an arm, tracing the outline of firm muscles. Sean uttered an appreciative sound. Felt pretty good, the warmth under his palm, like Logan said--except he wasn't repeating it because that was... losing?

Aside from smelling good and feeling good, though, there wasn't much else to add to the conversation. Or argument, whatever it was that they were drunkenly doing. Sean frowned, perplexed. Logan smelled and felt good. And he was touching Sean in all the wrong places--wrong because it felt so right. Felt good.

His body was heating up a little and he began to shift in a somewhat suggestive and encouraging manner, the way he might have if a chick was on top, touching him with soft hands. His free hand also went to an obvious place, as muscle memory took over.

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Heh. He got Sean to respond to his hand. Why that was some kind of victory was a mystery to his drunkenly hazed mind but he was really feeling it too. The magic of the moment. The way Sean's body felt under his wandering hands. His head turned more toward Sean and he could see the outline of his jaw and his adam's apple. A soft groan escaped his lips as the fingers in his hair took another turn--grasping rather than sifting.

Everything felt heavy but light at the same time. It was strange but it was pleasant. When he tilted his head, he could feel Sean's chin and then his throat. For some inexplicable reason, his tongue darted out, tasting the salt of Sean's skin. Why he expected to taste alcohol, he had no idea. No, he knew. It was because Sean smelled like it. His shirt seemed to be dappled in it but his throat didn't taste like alcohol. Not this side of it, anyway.

It was one thing when his hands wandered. It was another when Sean's did. Not expecting it, he actually let out a gasp and his body seemed to answer the gesture on its own. Whatever victory he'd tasted before was stolen from him when Sean elicited as much of a reaction from him as Logan had from Sean.

"You little..." Little wasn't even the word for it. "...bastard," he said but there was amusement in his tone and possibly something approaching arousal.

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"Big bastard," Sean laughed, flexing his groping fingers in response to the warm, slick glide of a tongue at his throat. He knew what to do down there. Did it a million times with chicks as they climbed on top of him, swaying their hips in a sultry manner, taunting him with their warmth and sweetness and softness. Logan wasn't soft though, no sir. He was firm, muscular. Manly.

It should have turned Sean off but it didn't.

The newness was interesting--exciting. He always had been the kind of man who needed new and fresh stimuli to stay interested; part of the reason he never settled down was because he couldn't keep to one woman for too long. Sean didn't think there was anything wrong with that, though. It was how he was, plain and simple. It was probably how they all were, the ones at the club who weren't in relationships. Part of the thrill was seeing new faces, luring them in, teasing the money out of their hands.

As he let his hand loosen from Logan's hair and slide down to join the other, Sean angled his hips up to meet Logan's. He was operating purely on auto-pilot now. His body seemed to understand that there was the possibility of sex happening, and it was all for it. His mind... With enough alcohol, anything was possible. As the gentle friction sent a spike of delicious heat through him, Sean moaned against the side of Logan's head. He nuzzled him again, breathless and pleased, and thrust up to get another dark taste of pleasure.

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