title: Drunk
characters: Teres Tolue, Edgar Valtinas
pairing: teredo
summary: He never imagined Teres to be like this when drunk.
Edgar watches as Teres sets down his glass with a rather loud thud on the table, part of him nearly expecting it to shatter upon contact. He notes how it had gone from full to only having a third of that alcoholic beverage left in it. The other man sways in his seat, props an elbow upon the table and presses his cheek against his knuckles. Dark red eyes gaze over at him, going up and down his figure.
"You're so damn gorgeous."
The comment catches Edgar off guard, just a little. It's not something he had been expecting to hear at the moment. He tries to ignore it, to pay attention to his own glass instead of him. He tries not to let it slip that he liked the praise and wanted to hear more.
Somehow, his gaze drifts from the glass towards Teres.
"You're drunk, aren't you?"
"Am not."
It was said in a huff, a quick and defensive response. He's pouting, in his own way. The man lets out a sigh before leaning towards Edgar, daring to get into his personal space. A grin forms on his face.
"Have I mentioned how amazing you are?"
Edgar can't help but roll his eyes at that and does his best not to let out a sound. Something escapes though, not a chuckle but something more like a snort. He imagines how ugly that sounds and how its so unlike him, but doesn't bother to hide it. Maybe it was the drinks he had, the fact that he was feeling tipsy and allowing this to pass.
"You're a very different drunk than I thought you'd be."
"Really? What were you expecting, hm?"
Truthfully, he's not quite sure. They'd been tipsy before, only having a couple of drinks, never anything more than that. Tonight, Teres had taken more than their usual amount. Edgar tried to imagine how he originally thought he'd been when drunk, but nothing came to mind. Being more flirtatious than usual was one that really hadn't crossed his mind.
"I don't know. Sleepy, perhaps?" He jokes.
Teres grunts in return. He mumbles something about not being tired as he moves his seat closer to Edgar's. A hand finds its way around his thin waist, pulling his body closer.
"I'd sleep on you- with you to though."
"Teres-"
He's stopped when feeling lips press against his neck. The feeling makes him shudder in delight. It's a different feeling, one that he can't put into words. He wishes that he was sober enough to be able to describe it.
"I think we should go."
"I hate to say you're right, but you are."
