"Sit," John said as he pointed at the kitchen table. Chas stared at the table for a moment and walked over to the table, taking off his hat and jacket and piled them up on the floor before he sat down with his back turned to the window. This felt pretty weird, and why not, it really did fit the day. Chas watched as John walked into his bedroom, taking off his jacket and threw it on his bed.
There was already one glass settled on the table, on John's side of the table and the scotch was there already too, still, more like. 'Way to come home, an empty glass waiting to get filled.'
Chas knew that John wasn't particularly social, you'd only find John at a party if it was ruined by a half breed, but sitting here at this table, he imagined John sitting at the other end every night, it was an eerily lonely thought. Chas locked his eyes on the lonely glass, until John suddenly reappeared and settled an empty glass in front of Chas, really loud it seemed at first, but this place was so quiet, even the softest whisper would make Chas jump at least a foot in the air.

John sat down across Chas and opened the bottle, avoiding eye contact while he filled the bottom of both their glasses. Chas shifted in his seat. This was going to be a long, quiet evening, how ever long it would take, it already felt like forever. John settled the bottle back on the table and motioned his hand to his glass.
With his hand hovering above his glass, John looked at Chas who was studying his long awaited drink.

"Drink up," John uttered and raised his glass to take a big swig, settling his empty glass back on the table long before Chas had raised his to sniff it and carefully took a sip.
Chas swallowed, grimaced as the malt whiskey seemed to burn all the way up through his nostrils. John chuckled and just watched on. It didn't particularly taste like Baileys, not in the least, but he took another sip. Chas took many sips until he finished the rest in one swig, his body getting warm. Determined he placed his glass near John, wanting more, still not sure if he liked it or not.

"You actually have this stuff for breakfast?" Chas shrilled, trying hard not to look appalled. He didn't really hate the taste, but he couldn't define it either. 'It's probably one of those things you'll learn to enjoy once you're sloshed or a dipsomaniac, like John.'

John just refilled their glasses and didn't say anything. Chas took his drink and watched while John put his glass to his lips, his eyes fixed on Chas.

"Are you gonna do that for the rest of the evening?" Chas wondered.

"Do what?" was John's calm response.

"Staring at me," he scowled and took a shot of his drink. "It's not good for my health, John."

John stared back at him, idly. Chas felt like he was dying.

"John, I know you're used to trying to stare the window to shatters when you sit there, but I'm just wondering here if I'm blocking your view."

"My view's just fine, Chas," John said amused but collected, seemingly not really seeing the problem and definitely not looking away.

For a moment Chas was confused and turned around to see what was so nice about the view. 'The view out the window completely sucks,' Chas thought upon not seeing anything spectacular because the blinds were shut. He felt John's eyes pricking in his back, Chas swallowed. He was used to that, in the cab, but this was completely different because they.. weren't in the cab.

"Oh," Chas uttered as his eyes widened. "Oh! The.. the uhm.. the view," he exclaimed as he turned back to the table and stared straight into John's eyes.
Chas' cheeks flushed and he tried hard to find words for a comeback that didn't include a sound like 'uhm' but after opening and closing his mouth 7 or so times, he washed down the whiskey that was still in his glass.

"Well," he finally came out with, pointedly staring at John. "My view's tortuously quiet."

John leaned back in his chair, smiling and shrugged. "Sorry."

Pretty hot lookin', too. "I like your hair," Chas continued in hopes to elicit more than one word out of John's mouth. Thinking that these drinks were really awesome, he didn't really wait for a response and slid his empty glass in John's direction. "Gimme more."

John complied, pretending not to have heard the comment on his hair and poured himself some more, too. 'Don't get the kid drunk,' he warned himself. He moved his hand to push the refilled glass back to Chas, but he didn't need to nudge it at all as the glass was already on its way to Chas' lips, soaking up the whiskey before John even realized the glass was missing. John blinked.

"Take it easy, Chas," he let out gently, sipping his glass.

"Yeah, that was kinda the idea, John," he replied anxious, reaching for the bottle to pour himself more scotch, never minding the fact that John suggested to fill up his glass too while he was at it.

John wanted to stop him, he wanted to stop Chas many times after that and he watched him imbibe the alcohol many times as well until John finally drew the line when the bottle was empty. Half of which went down John's throat.

"Dude, where you going with that bottle," Chas managed to verbalize when John rose, taking the bottle with him. Chas gestured after the bottle, as though he was trying to make it come back.

"It's empty, Chas." John turned around when he arrived at the counter, brilliantly disguising the fact that he didn't exactly hold back on the booze either, he wasn't nearly as drunk as Chas was, but he had to blink several times to make sure the counter was actually where he thought it was at before randomly placing the empty bottle there. John then moved to get Chas a glass of water.

"Empty," Chas pouted and let his head rest on the table for a moment, allowing his eyes to roam over the back of John's fully dressed bodies, there were 3 too many John's in his sight. Chas blinked long and hard until he saw just one John. "Get some more," he murmured when his eyes locked on John's well-rounded butt. "I'm sure you got loads more stashed away somewhere."

John walked back to the table and settled the glass of water in front of Chas, "I think you're relaxed enough, Chas. You can barely sit up."

Chas raised his head to study the contents of the glass and wrinkled his nose. "It looks like water, John, and it doesn't smell like whiskey. Are you drunk?"

John tried hard to suppress a laugh, he managed up to the point where he reduced it to a grin. "Come on, Chas, drink the water, you're drunk as fuck."

When Chas was about to say something, there was a knock on the door. John told him one more time to drink the water and then got up to answer the door. Chas flipped him the finger and finally took the glass to drink the water, accidentally spilling half of it on his shirt. Chas giggled like a maniac, just barely able to put the glass back on the table before the giggles sent him out of his chair to land on the floor with a loud thud. For a moment, he stopped laughing to let out a prominent "Ow!" only to continue the laughter.

John spun around, forcing one hand to his head to keep his brain from scooting over the table. "Jesus, Chas, would you stop the bullshit!" he yelled through the riot of giggles as he opened the door to let a funny little man inside, wearing big, square specs. It was Beeman. The man just gawked at the display. John didn't seem quite collected, that was not very surprising, but usually John didn't use so many marked facial expressions. The sight of Chas rolling and laughing on John's floor was exceptionally disturbing. Laughter, in John's apartment. "John, what planet am I on?" Beeman inquired.
John's hand shot up, shaking his head in painful exhaustion to stop Beeman from asking more about it. They both just stared at Chas who seemed to have quite a lot of fun by himself.

Chas calmed down after a few moments, trying to find the will and strength to get back on his chair. He got so far that he pulled himself up on the table and bobbed his head up from behind it to see who just entered the bewildered apartment. "It's Bumble..- no.. Bee..- Beetlebeem.. Beep.." Chas randomly guessed while his arms were starting to wig out on him and he was having a hard time deciding whether it was up he wanted to go, or down. He sighed.

Still with one hand pressed against his forehead, John stalked towards the helpless and drunken youth to help him up before he would hurt himself. He got behind Chas and slid his arms underneath the boy's arms, wrapping them across his chest and tried to haul him up. John looked bothered. Chas wasn't this heavy earlier today, but then, they both weren't this drunk earlier today. "Nooo, definitely not Beetlejuice," Chas went on, still fascinated by the unexpected but familiar visitor and not really cooperating to make it easier for John to help him back on his chair.

"Beeman," John mumbled under his breath, asking for some help to get the kid up on his seat even though it was tempting to not bother with it and just let the kid sleep it off on the floor. Beeman scooted to the sloshed men in need, after he put his things on the table.

"Yeah, that's it! Beeman!" Chas' arm shot up in the air, nearly bobbing John in the head, while he managed to duck away to avoid impact, John lost his balance and stumbled backwards, not really having had the time to let go of Chas, and took the kid down with him. Sandwiched by the floor and Chas.
Though John's head was kind of hurting from colliding with the floor while breaking Chas' fall, he couldn't help but chortle. "Thanks, Beeman," he said weakly and unconsciously lay his hand on the curly head that was almost falling asleep on his chest, he ran his hand through Chas' hair for a moment, barely aware of his doing so.

"Awesome, Beeman!" Chas let out for no particular reason and grinned sheepishly at the touch on his head. He made himself comfortable, adjusting his body to rest his head on John's stomach. John withdrew his hand, wondering if Chas moved away from it. But Chas was far too out of it to notice the hand was gone, using John as a pillow, Chas was prepared to just take a nap right there until he felt a burden that made it impossible to relax. Chas frowned and let out a sigh. "I really need to take a piss." He tried to pull himself up but was unsuccessful.

John groaned. He knew something was still missing from this party. Angrily he pushed Chas off of him and Beeman offered a hand as well, pulling the young man to his feet. Chas didn't like that. He didn't like that at all. Everything was spinning, seriously out of focus and it was like he couldn't even see anything at all. "I think I liked it better on the floor and John's abs are soft," he whined, trying to sink back to the floor but Beeman didn't let go and helped him walk to the bathroom much to John's relief.

While Chas did his business with the help of Beeman to keep him from tipping over in an instant, John pushed himself to his feet very slowly. He could use another drink already. He shuffled to the table and plopped down on the chair, refraining from getting out another bottle to not give the kid any ideas and grabbed a cigarette instead. "Why'd you stop by, Beeman?" he asked much louder than necessary, the drowsiness making it sound like 'Beeeeeeman' while he fished around on the table twice before he finally got a hold of his lighter.

"Well," Beeman started as he emerged from the bathroom, supporting and almost crumbling under the drunken weight of Chas. "I brought some books on various demons, rare books."

John nodded and made no attempt to help him settle Chas on the chair who seemed to slide right off again but Beeman grabbed his shoulders just in time. "John, I don't see the point in putting him on a chair."

Constantine took a drag and looked at Chas who tried to brush off the hands in vain, a frustration that soon resulted in slapping the hands and Beeman retracted them in fear the kid would take drastic measures and bite. Chas felt his weight going this way and that way, desperately clenching his hands on the edge of the table.
He let out a sigh of relief when he found himself still on the chair and gave John a smirk. He turned his head and scowled at Beeman, "I can sit just fine, you ape."

John chuckled and Beeman stepped back, looking at John. "Why don't I just come back later at a more appropriate time where I don't need to help people to the bathroom, and we'll talk about those books," Beeman said in the fear of having to help John too at a certain point. He gathered his things before he headed for the door after John gave him a nod and a "Sure."
Once at the door, Beeman looked at the two drunks at the table, shrugged and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Chas looked away from the door and frowned at John, opening his mouth to say something but was either not drunk enough yet or he was too drunk to remember what he wanted to say. He probably didn't remember.

"What?" John wondered, eyes locked on Chas' intent and drunken gaze.

Chas propped his elbows on the table to rest his chin in his hands and dreamily stared at the older man. "I kinda wanna kiss you a lot," he blurted out.

John put out his cigarette, folded his hands and rested his arms on the table to lean in. "Go ahead," he said, his voice daintily.

Chas didn't need to be told again, he did the math and managed to have one hand behind John's head without having to miss three times prior to success and pulled John into a sultry kiss. Both tasting like scotch, John kind of missed the flavor of the licorice he identified Chas with earlier today, but the eagerness was there all the same. Running his hand through the curly hair, he pulled and kept Chas as close as possible with the uncomfortable table between them.

"'m kinda fweepy," Chas muttered in the middle of their deep kiss, their locked lips stifling the words.

John pulled away a little and grinned. "What?"

"I'm kinda sleepy," Chas repeated, only less muffled, the alcohol taking its toll. He could barely keep his eyes open. "I should go home."

"Bullshit, you're not driving like that," John ordered. Chas opened his mouth to argue, but John broke him off even before he could make a sound. "And you're not sleeping it off in the cab either."

John rose from his chair and walked around the table, reaching out his hand to the slewed Chas. Next thing he knew, he lay in John's bed, still wearing his clothes and not having the faintest idea how long it's been since he got there or how they even managed to get there.
They probably just fell dead asleep on the bed the second they reached it. John was draped around him and breathing steadily, asleep. Still quite fazed, he smirked, feeling John's breath in his neck. Chas closed his eyes again. "Better not snore, asshole," he muttered before falling back to sleep in John's embrace.