I wanted to have the whole story finished because I didn't want to upload it in pieces, but...that would take forever. So here.
I'm tracking a tag for this on Tumblr ("fast times at the hive erisol") and I have anonymous reviews enabled (as always) so you don't have to be a site member to leave me a review!
He's exhausted, he has work in the morning, and he doesn't usually drink, so why the Hell did he let Aradia talk him into going to a bar?
She's a regular at The Hive, but Sollux has never been there before. Normally, she goes with her boyfriend, but apparently he's visiting his family this weekend, so she called Sollux and asked him to go with her instead, and because he is a loving, supportive best friend, he agrees to accompany her and be the designated driver of her dark-red beat-up Camry. That doesn't mean he's happy about it.
"And it's karaoke night!" Aradia gushes, oblivious to his silent fuming. "The DJ will play just about anything you want, and—oh!—one of the bartenders there has a phenomenal voice and dances on the bar top! It's so cool!"
Sollux can't carry a tune in a bucket, and he gets nervous talking in public, let alone singing, and when he gets nervous, he lisps. He can pretty much guarantee that he will be sitting out karaoke night in its entirety. Then again, Aradia is a pretty horrible singer, too, but what she lacks in skill, she more than makes up for in enthusiasm and also just being generally pretty. He doesn't know how she's so confident, but he wishes it was contagious because he prefers to spend his Friday nights in, debugging code. He has a serious problem with socializing.
"Ooh, parking space!" Aradia calls out, pointing dramatically. Sollux pulls in easily and takes the keys out of the ignition, and she reaches around in the back seat before pulling out a brown fedora and pulling it low over one eye, smushing down her long, dark waves. The hat clashes oddly with her tight red dress and black heels, but Aradia can somehow pull it off.
"You look good," he says, and she smiles brightly and kisses his cheek. He's probably got her favored dark-red lipstick smeared on his cheek, but he leaves it. Maybe it will imbue him with some of her confidence.
"Here!" She produces another fedora from the back, black this time, and drops it on his head. "You look adorable!"
"Uh, no." He takes it off and tosses it into the backseat. "I don't do hats. My head is shaped weird."
"Oh, you're no fun!" she says, but she lets it slide. Besides, she might be able to pull off fashion disasters, but he can't. He's wearing a yellow T-shirt, a black hoodie, and gray Dickies, and he doesn't really think a fedora will go with it.
She hops out of her side of the car, runs to his side, and grabs him by the hand, tugging him toward the entrance of the brick building on their left where a glowing green neon sign above the door reads The Hive. It looks like a seedy little joint, and it probably is, so he braces himself for a night huddled in the corner and allows Aradia to drag him inside.
To his surprise, though, the inside is far better-furnished than the outside would hint. The walls look like black marble and the ceiling is covered with mirrored tiles. Some of them have writing on them, as though someone climbed on a ladder with dry-erase markers and went nuts. There are tables and booths as well as seats along the bar, and all the cushions look rather plush, although a few are obviously stained from spilled drinks. There's a strobe light going by the DJ booth, and the DJ's headphones are about the same size as his head. All of the bartenders are young, too, and instead of being dressed in some sort of uniform, they all seem to be wearing whatever they want. The music is even something he recognizes, some pop love song from the early nineties.
All in all, it's not bad. He's seen worse.
The best part is that there's no cover charge. Aradia sails in past the bouncer with spiky red-and-black hair checking IDs (both of them are twenty-two, so they get in without a problem) and heads right for the DJ booth. The DJ has a half-finished drink in front of him and he looks up as they approach.
"Karaoke starts at ten-thirty!" he says, shouting to be heard over the music.
"I know! I wanted to make a request for the first song now, though!"
"You're too late! The fishbowl twins already called it!"
Aradia sweeps her fedora off her head and dramatically smacks her forehead with the heel of her hand. The crack resonates, although not very far, and she puts the hat back on. "Alright, well, then I'll get in line with everyone else!"
"What do you want?"
"'Iris' by The Goo Goo Dolls!"
"Done and done!" The DJ looks at Sollux. "What about you?"
"I don't sing!" Sollux answers, his lisp mercifully absent.
"Noted, Sharkbait! Alright, Aradia, you're second after the chum buckets!"
"Thanks, Karkat!" she says, waving at the DJ, and then she grabs Sollux again and resumes dragging him around—this time, they head to a table so Aradia can finish doing her makeup. All she's wearing is lipstick, and though Sollux thinks she's naturally pretty without it, she's nothing short of drop-dead gorgeous when she's all made up.
He's just started to wonder who "the chum buckets" are when Aradia finishes putting away her makeup (where, he can't tell—one minute, the table is spread with eyeliner and mascara and foundation and about a thousand other forms of cosmetics he can't identify, and the next minute, it's gone) and stands up. "I'm getting a drink. Want anything?"
"I'm the designated driver."
"Yeah, but you can have one. We're going to be here for awhile, after all."
He sighs. "Screwdriver," he says, since he's almost positive they don't have mead. Orange juice and vodka is a safe bet, anyway—vodka is essentially flavorless, and he likes orange juice.
"Sure thing! Be right back!"
She heads toward the bar and he watches her go, his gaze drawn to one of the bartenders about ten feet from where Aradia begins placing her order with a different bartender. The one that Sollux is looking at is stupidly hot, smirking at something while he mixes a drink for the customer in front of him. He looks like he's wearing a ring on each of his fingers, which Sollux finds a bit excessive, but they flash interestingly as he shakes the silver shaker and then strains the contents into a glass filled with ice. He's got thick-framed glasses and his dark hair slicked back, and there looks to be a streak of color running through his bangs, but Sollux can't tell what color it is from where he's sitting. The guy looks like a hipster, but a strange sort of one. A fancy hipster, with a bow tie and a white dress shirt and a vest. There's a name tag attached to the vest, but again, Sollux is too far away to read what it says. He's intrigued, though.
Then again, the bartender looks like he might be a massive douchebag. He sort of has that look about him, one that says, "I'll be nice to your face but rude to your back." And besides, a guy that hot probably has a boyfriend anyway. Or a girlfriend, he reminds himself. After all, the guy looks fairly flamboyant, but that doesn't mean he's actually gay or even bisexual. He could be completely straight.
Or maybe not. As if sensing his gaze, the bartender slides his eyes from the customer at the bar to Sollux. The smirk on his face deepens and he winks before looking back at the customer.
For some reason, that one gesture has Sollux's heart racing. He can't decide if he wants to punch or kiss that smirk off his damn face, but both options seem pretty appealing. He doesn't do either, though. Not only would punching the bartender probably get him kicked out and kissing him would be incredibly forward (and maybe also get him kicked out), but Aradia is coming back with a drink in each hand.
"Screwdriver for you," she says cheerily, sliding his drink across the table.
"Thanks." He eyes it, shrugs, and takes a large gulp.
That ends up being a mistake because apparently there's only enough orange juice in it to color the vodka. He nearly gags but manages to swallow it. "Holy shit, AA, this is like nothing but vodka!"
Aradia giggles, taking a sip of her Red-Headed Slut. "Yeah, Feferi makes her drinks really strong. Equius likes them."
"He would," Sollux grumbles. He stirs his drink a little and takes another tentative sip. Yeah, there's orange juice in it, but it's clearly only decoration. "I'm guessing you didn't tell her I'm supposed to be DD tonight."
"Nah, but like I said, we're going to be here for awhile. And I will get you to sing before we leave." The way she grins indicates that there's no room for him to argue. We'll see about that, he thinks.
"Alright, ladies and germs, it's ten-thirty, and you all know what that means," a voice says over the loudspeakers. "I'm Karkat and I'll be your DJ this evening, just like almost every other fucking night in this hellhole—" There's the sound of good-natured jeering coming from the other patrons and a few of the bartenders when he says that "—and first up, we have Feferi and Eridan, so let's give 'em a big hand."
Two of the bartenders come out from behind the bar—the guy who winked at Sollux earlier, and a girl with a black halter top and a dark pink, possibly fuchsia skirt that skims her knees. Her dark hair is pinned behind her head at her bangs, forming a sort of crown, and the rest of her hair cascades down her shoulders in a tumble of waves. They nearly sprint to the DJ booth to take their microphones, and now that they're in better lighting, Sollux can see that the streak of color in the guy's hair—Eridan, he reminds himself, his name is Eridan—is purple, the same color as his vest and bow tie. Actually, the vest is purple with black pinstripes, and his pants are an inversion of that—black with purple pinstripes. His shoes look almost like bowling shoes, purple on the sides with a stripe of blue running through the middle, but Sollux is pretty sure they're designer. He hates himself for being attracted to him.
The few people who had been gathered on the dance floor in front of the DJ booth clear a space as Eridan and Feferi take their places in front of the booth—they're obviously regulars who know how this show's going to go. A few moments later, a rhythmic drum sequence starts playing, followed by a bass riff that Sollux vaguely recognizes but can't place.
Then Eridan opens his mouth and sings the first line, and Sollux melts. "She says she's no good with words, but I'm worse." Aradia was right—his voice is amazing, like honey for his ears.
"Barely stuttered out a joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue," Feferi sings back, and her voice is just as good, just as sweet, a lovingly soprano counterpoint to Eridan's smooth tenor.
"Weighed down with words too over-dramatic—" He takes two steps away from her and turns easily to face her.
"Tonight is, 'it can't get much worse' versus 'no one should ever feel like'—" She turns to face him as she sings and glides to close the gap he's made between them, and then they're singing together, their voices mixing and harmonizing perfectly, their free hands—his right, her left—sliding together, fingers interlacing, as they start dancing together.
"I'm two quarters and a heart down, and I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds." He twirls her around as they sing, and her skirt flares out, showing off more of a frankly good-looking leg. "These words are all I have, so I write them, so you need them just to get by." The music drops for a moment, leaving a small guitar part, before Eridan and Feferi pull back together, spinning around the edge of the dance floor to applause."Dance, dance, we're falling apart to half-time. Dance, dance, and these are the lives you'd love to lead. Dance, this is the way they'd love if they knew how misery loved me."
They split apart and she dashes for the bar. He chases after her until she climbs from a bar stool to the bar top and he waits on the floor, singing alone again."You always fold just before you're found out."
She grins as the bartenders behind her begin clearing off the bar's surface. Singing her line, she holds out her hand and helps him up, too."Drink up, it's last call, last resort, but only the first mistake, and now—" He's fairly tall, and his hair nearly touches the ceiling above them, but she's about six inches shorter than him. They hide the difference well when he crouches down slightly to mirror the twist of her hips as they both sing,"I'm two quarters and a heart down, and I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds. These words are all I have, so I write them, so you need them just to get by."
Her hand flies out behind him and grabs him by the belt. It's a rehearsed move, though, because he spins on his heels and bends over, allowing her to run her hand over his back. There's a huge smirk on Eridan's face—he clearly knows how hot the whole show is turning out, and Sollux wonders if he's this much of a flirt all the time or if it's just tonight."Why don't you show me little bit of spine you've been savin' for his mattress, love?" she sings. At her last word, she seizes his collar and yanks him back up to practically croon it into his ear, although she still has her microphone to her lips.
Eridan turns sharply to face Feferi again, and they're heading further down the bar, all footwork and a purposeful rocking of hips that's one of the most erotic things Sollux has ever seen. He feels like he's watching a striptease, except no one is undressing."Dance, dance, we're falling apart to half-time. Dance, dance, and these are the lives you'd love to lead. Dance, this is the way they'd love if they knew how misery loved me."
The music seems to take on a more sinister tone for a moment, and Feferi bends him over again, this time backwards, running her hand over his chest as she sings to him,"Why don't you show me the little bit of spine you've been savin' for his mattress?"
They straighten up and begin their shuffle the other way, Eridan moving backwards now as she moves forward, and he sings back,"I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me." Sollux could swear that on the words "crawling into bed with me," Eridan is looking right at him—after all, the bartender turned his head in his direction—and his face heats up. It really seems like Eridan is flirting with him.
But then the moment is over and the music goes back to how it was and Eridan and Feferi are singing together again."Dance, dance, we're falling apart to half-time. Dance, dance, and these are the lives you'd love to lead." They're standing at the center of the bar now, and they both start backing up, heading toward their respective ends of the bar. Feferi sings,"Dance, this is the way they'd love—"
"Way they'd love—" Eridan sings back.
"Dance, this is the way they'd love—"
"Way they'd love—"
Now at their own ends, they sing together,"Dance, this is the way they'd love if they knew how misery loved me." They dance, their motions identical and opposite, shaking their hips and shoulders in a deliberately sensual way. They're so in-sync, it's clear they've rehearsed their moves often. Or they're fucking, Sollux realizes. It's entirely possible that they're dating or something and they just work that well together. He's jealous for a moment—but then, Eridan had winked at him earlier, right? And he'd deliberately caught his eye during that line about crawling into bed. That has to mean something."Dance, dance. Dance, dance. Dance, dance. Dance, dance."
The music ends abruptly to cheers and applause, and Eridan and Feferi bow and hop off the bar. They bound back over to the DJ booth to return the microphones and Sollux looks over at Aradia, wondering how to ask the question he desperately wants the answer to, but before he can even think of how to word it, the DJ says, "Another fantastic performance by the chum buckets," and Eridan turns and yells back, "Hey! Fuck you!"
"I'm just fucking with you," the DJ says lazily. "Hey, Feferi, can you bring me another Jack and Coke? Thanks. Next up, please welcome Aradia to the floor."
Aradia excitedly jumps up and hurries to fetch one of the microphones, leaving Sollux at the table alone again. To preoccupy himself, he takes another swig of his Screwdriver and purposely avoids looking anywhere near the bar, where Eridan and Feferi have just resumed their places. He wants to look, he wants to get a good eyeful of the bartender and maybe drool over him a little, but he doesn't want to get attached. After all, he doesn't know anything about him—there's more than a good chance that he's taken. It would just be Sollux's luck to fall for a guy who was straight or taken or both.
Then again, there's nothing wrong with just looking...
He glances sideways to see Eridan lining up six shots for a cluster of people at the bar. He's half-biting his lip but still somehow managing to smirk, and Sollux feels like smacking his forehead on the table. It isn't fair for Eridan to be that hot.
Meanwhile, the music has started up again and Aradia is singing. She's actually not bad, nowhere near as bad as Sollux is, but after what seems like a professional performance by Eridan and Feferi, it's clear she's an amateur. Still, she sings her heart out and though she doesn't really dance, she gets a thunderous round of applause when she finishes and takes a quick bow. The DJ calls up someone else and Aradia returns to the table, beaming with pride.
"You sounded really good," Sollux says.
"Thanks! Not as good as they were, but..." She shrugs happily. "I can hold my own."
He bites his lip. He wants to ask, but it's really none of his business... right?
"Okay, now what?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Huh?"
"You have that look on your face. That 'I-want-to-ask-a-question' look. So ask."
He sighs. "Alright. Eridan and Feferi, are they... um, together?"
Aradia blinks for a moment before grinning, and before he can beg her not to laugh, she's doubled over and giggling. It's embarrassing and he hides his face. "Stop," he whines.
"I'm sorry, I just... oh, my God, okay." She straightens up, still grinning. "Which one?"
"Which one, what?"
"Which one did you like?"
Sollux's ears burn. Both of them are attractive from an objective standpoint, but he can't help being stupidly attracted to Eridan. "Eridan," he mumbles.
"Well, then, you're in luck, since Feferi is already dating someone. She and Eridan are just friends. Like us, actually, but with more singing and dancing."
And money, Sollux adds silently. From the rings Eridan wears, it's pretty clear he's got cash to spare. "And he's... single?"
"As far as I know."
That's half of the problem down. Well, a third. The other two-thirds involve Eridan being into guys and, most importantly, liking him. Otherwise, this is pointless. "Is he..."
"Gay?" Aradia guesses.
"I'll take bi, too. Or pansexual or basically anything that's not straight."
She thinks it over for a minute. "You know, I'm actually not sure. You'd think that, with how he dresses, he'd probably be pretty gay, but I really don't know." She glances to the side. "You could ask him yourself, though."
Sollux feels himself freeze. That's something that someone only says when a certain someone else is coming towards them, and he's not too sure he wants to be so close to Eridan—he's hot and Sollux might forget how to talk, or worse, get so nervous that he starts to lisp.
"One Red-Headed Slut for the lady," a voice drawls, and it's definitely that smooth tenor from before. He can't help but look as Eridan slides another drink toward Aradia, and then Eridan looks at him. "Anythin' for you?"
"I'm the DD," he manages to stutter. From this angle, Eridan's eyes look purple, too—maybe it's the bow tie, though. It's purple, after all, with what looks like tiny lightning bolts in yellow. Not only that, but whatever cologne he's wearing has Sollux wanting to grab him by that stupid tie, push him against the closest wall, and shove his tongue down his throat.
"Water? Coke?"
"Water's good." Thank God he doesn't lisp.
Eridan smiles. "Be right back, then."
As he heads back to the bar, Sollux finally lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and sets his head on the table. He's never been this taken in by someone he just met, and he doesn't like how much he wants to watch Eridan's ass. He saw plenty of it during his performance so he knows it's aesthetically perfect as far as asses go, but he wants to keep looking.
"Oh, my God," Aradia giggles. "You have a huge crush on him!"
"He's really hot, that's all," Sollux grumbles.
"Calm down. I think he was flirting with you."
That doesn't calm him down. The thought simultaneously thrills and scares him. What if he was? He's not exactly unfamiliar with romantic overtures (from both boys and girls) but it's definitely been awhile since the last time anyone showed any interest in him. And then there's the fact that Eridan probably has people falling all over him—Sollux won't be able to compete if he even tries.
A girl with white-blond hair that the DJ introduces as Roxy takes the microphone and a rap song starts playing. She's stumbling as she walks, but her voice is surprisingly clear and strong as she starts rapping along. "These ideas are nightmares to white parents whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings, like whatever they say has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allows no swearing to see him, walkin' around with his headphones blaring..."
Sollux shakes his head and goes back to Aradia. "It doesn't really matter," he murmurs.
"Oh, stop it. You're cute—there's no reason to be down on yourself."
"Cute" isn't the same as "hot." "Cute" is bumblebees and kittens. "Sure."
She sighs. "Finish your drink."
He obliges, downing the rest of his orange-flavored vodka quickly.
And then Eridan returns, sliding a glass of water across the table toward him, and he collects their spent glasses. "If you guys want anythin' else, just let me know. Or Fef, if you wanna die a' alcohol poisonin'," he adds with another grin.
"Thanks, Eridan," Aradia says. "By the way, you sounded great tonight."
He flushes with pride and runs his hand over his hair even though it's gelled back and doesn't need to be fixed. "Thanks—you were great, too."
"Not as good as you. Sollux was pretty impressed, too," she adds deliberately.
Oh, fuck no. At the sound of his name, Sollux's eyes widen—but then Eridan turns his head to look at him, his grin turning mischievous. "Oh, really? Did you bring us a virgin tonight, Ara?"
"Yep! I've been trying to get him to come with me for awhile, but I only managed to convince him tonight since Equius is out of town."
"Oh, yeah, I was wonderin' where he was. Horuss is gone, too."
"Yep, both of them went up to see their parents. They should be back by Sunday night, but obviously neither of them is going to be here this weekend."
"Naturally." Eridan sets the tray with their empty glasses onto the table, slides out a chair, and spins it around to straddle it, resting his arms on the back. "But I'm glad to see you made it here anyway."
"Are you kidding me? I live for Friday nights at The Hive!" Aradia jokes. She takes a swig of her drink. "Hmm. Needs more Jager."
Eridan looks overly-offended by her remark, so much so that Sollux can tell it's an act. "More Jager? I'll have you know that's the finest a' drinks I ever made!"
"I'm just kidding, Eridan, it's great."
The two of them keep talking, and Sollux wonders if she's deliberately keeping Eridan at their table for some reason. He can't tell—Aradia seems natural as she speaks to Eridan, like she genuinely wants to talk to him, but then again, she has been known to fuck with people and this would be the perfect example. And then there's Eridan, sitting half-turned away from him, moving his crossed arms from the back of the chair to the table. His rings catch the scattered lights in the bar as he lightly drums his fingers on the table. Sollux can't help but sneak glances at him, his glass to his lips. Every so often, he catches Aradia's eye and she grins at him, but if Eridan notices, he doesn't acknowledge it.
"Alright, I better get back to work if I don't want Kan breathin' down my neck," Eridan says, breaking Sollux's trance. "I'll be back later. Me an' Fef are probably gonna be singin' somethin' else later on, too. You should sing," he adds, glancing at Sollux and taking him completely by surprise.
"I can't sing," he says, and mentally punches himself. The combination of nerves and just being near Eridan makes him lisp, and he knows Aradia notices when she quirks up her eyebrow.
"I don't believe that," Eridan says teasingly. Before Sollux can contradict him, though, he stands up, collects the tray, and heads back to the bar.
Aradia covers her mouth to disguise her giggle. "Oh, yeah, hon, he was definitely flirting with you."
"He talked to me for like two seconds." Fortunately, his lisp has disappeared.
"Yeah, but when he was... That was adorable."
Sollux rolls his eyes and takes another drink of his water, wishing he wasn't the designated driver so he could actually drink more alcohol tonight. He has a feeling he's going to wish he was hammered by the time this is all over.
I imagine that Roxy is a huge fan of Eminem.