This one's set in the CWZ-verse, and the prompt was Harlock and Tochiro getting drunk on cider and being dorks.

As soon as Harlock's glass hit his lips, his brows pinched together. He lowered the drink, eyes narrowed in on it like it wronged him somehow. "This is not bourbon," he said.

"Well, duh." I cocked my thumb to the bottle I'd just poured it from. I figured the big letters across the label reading "Cider" would have tipped him off. "Why else would I have warmed it up?"

He wrinkled his nose, swirling the amber drink around the glass. One hand rested on his ankle, his boots off to the side as we sat on the apartment floor. "It's fruity," he said.

"Well, it's made from apples." He was such a stickler when it came to alcohol. Anything that wasn't hard liquor or wine was hardly worth drinking in his mind. "But it'll still get you wasted as good as anything. Come on, we've got a ton."

He took another sip, still not satisfied with the sweetness of it. "How much?" he asked, practically begging for it to be just a couple bottles.

I couldn't help but grin. "The men got us four gallons. They know how much it takes to get you drunk." Thanks to my stature, I didn't have the same constitution, but Harlock downed his drinks like they were shots. We tended to end up drunk at the same time.

"It's like drinking a martini or a daiquiri or something," he huffed. Rolling to his back, he reached into the cabinet to fish out the square bottle. "I'll mix it with bourbon."

I wasn't sure how appetizing that would be, but whatever loosened him up. "You're such an alcoholic," I said.

"I am the king of alcoholics!" he retorted proudly as he poured one amber liquid into the other. Then he downed the glass in one go.

"How is it?"

He shrugged. "It would be better without the apple taste. I don't see the appeal of fruity drinks."

I imagined it was because they didn't taste like death. "Harlock," I said, "you drink wine all the time."

"Yeah, but that's different." He refilled his glass with the mixture and nodded as he drank it.

"It's made from grapes." I tilted my own glass back. Sure, it wasn't quite sake, but it warmed my gut all the same. The spiced sweet mixture was good, even if Harlock refused to admit it. With each drink, he put less bourbon in. Either the taste was growing on him, or he was getting too drunk to notice.

By the time he grabbed the glass bottle and started drinking straight from it, I figured we were both drunk. Some of the drink slipped from his mouth to his chin and dripped to his uniform. He sure didn't seem to care. "Okay-okay," he slurred as he smacked the bottle back to the floor. "But hear me out. We could put a bar on the ship."

Even though I was sitting, I felt unsteady. The world swam like we were on the ocean. "Why not just have, like, a wine cellar?" I asked.

"What part of a ship is the cellar?" he muttered as he lifted the bottle back to his lips.

"Good question."

I was still thinking the conundrum over when he spoke again. "You know what's gross?"

I had a guess. He'd asked five times. "Cider?"

"Cider," he said with a nod. "But also, also Zero is gross." He snickered like he'd come up with something clever.

"We should have invited him," I said.

"Well, dang, if I wanted someone gloomy and nagging hanging around, I would have just invited…" He paused, trying to think of someone like the Independent. "Would have invited Zero," he finally decided.

I nodded in agreement. "Should have invited him."

"I don't want him hanging around!" He smashed his fist into the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. Then he smacked the top of my head a few times. "You are my best friend. We don't need anyone else."

I fell to my back without meaning to, but I liked lying down better anyway. "What… What about the crew?"

Harlock waved his hand like he was swatting a bug. "Nah. We're good. We can-" He tilted the bottle back before it reached his mouth and poured cider all down his front. "Aww, dammit, I was gonna drink that."

I broke into a fit of cackles, tears welling up in my eyes as Harlock whined about how it wasn't funny. When the door slid open, I rolled my head over to find Emeraldas standing there. "We didn't invite you," Harlock huffed.

"I did," I said. Gosh, she was pretty. So pretty, even when she looked a little irritated.

"You weren't supposed to invite other people!" Harlock howled.

I didn't remember us making a rule like that. Actually, I thought I told him I invited her. "We had so much cider though," I said.

"Yes, you two clearly had plenty of alcohol," Emeraldas drawled. "I'll take this back then."

Harlock's eyes locked on the bottle of wine in her hand. For a minute, he just spluttered nonsense. "Wait, you can stay!" he finally managed.

Emeraldas cocked a brow. "No really, that's alright."

"We can put it in the ship's wine cellar," I said. "We're gonna have one and- and a bar and like fifty cannons. I'm gonna build so many cannons. Oh-oh! And I want, like, a huge retractable knife in the front. We're gonna stab the other ships."

Harlock's eyes widened, and he started bouncing in place. "Yes! We can ram them! It will be so cool! And I want a big wooden steering wheel, so I can spin it when I stab the other ships."

"These are really good ideas." I nodded. "I need to write these down."

"Alright, you two have fun then," Emeraldas said with a roll of her eyes as she waved us off.

"We gotta have another big skull on the front too," I said.

"So the big knife comes out of the skull's face." Harlock fell on his back, arms splayed out above him. "We will be so cool."