Title: Three Tequila, Floor
Rating: PG (um, underage drinking? o.O)
Characters/Pairings: Hitsugaya, Renji, Matsumoto
Word Count: 953
Warnings: Crack is the most addictive substance in the world.
Summary: Somehow, Renji and Hitsugaya end up in a drinking contest.
A/N: Beware of the pure crack below.
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Renji had always considered himself able to hold his liquor. He could drink most people—Matsumoto excluded—under the table.
So why was he getting beaten by a kid?
Hitsugaya had never had alcohol before, and it was a taste he didn't particularly care for. But that arrogant jackass of a Shinigami had challenged him, and he would be damned if he would let the pretentious bastard win.
Both men sat opposite each other at the table, holding shot glasses in front of them and wondering how exactly they had gotten into this situation. Renji was hardly a person for taking on a kid and Hitsugaya was hardly a person for drinking period.
It was all Matsumoto's fault.
She had brought the party to tenth division headquarters, bottles of alcohol Hitsugaya couldn't even begin to identify in her devious little hands. Hitsugaya launched into the typical protests familiar to his vice captain, and she in return launched into the justifications abundantly familiar to her captain.
Hitsugaya sighed; Matsumoto swayed, having already hit her stash hours before; and everyone else ignored them, conveniently partially or totally drunk by now.
Renji, for his part, didn't want to miss out on the fun. He headed for the party as soon as he had finished the paperwork that his captain had pushed on him. He was very much looking forward to the quality time with his friends and—most importantly—free booze.
So Renji stepped into the tenth division headquarters to the sight of an arguing Hitsugaya and Matsumoto, both intriguingly red, one from anger and the other from alcohol. He shrugged it off, grabbing the bottle from Matsumoto's grip. She wheeled on him—he should have known she would be defensive when it came to her liquor—and snapped that he should find his own damn tequila.
Renji perked up at tequila. Ever since humans first invented tequila, it had been one of his favorites. He needed some of that.
Hitsugaya, conversely, was just downright angry.
"Tequila!"
"What, Captain? You know about tequila?" Matsumoto was fascinated by this new revelation.
"We worked next to high school kids, ne Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya had turned sour now, obviously not expecting her to question his knowledge.
She looked thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose you're right."
Renji, however, still wanted a piece of the action. "Yeah, yeah, can I get summat?"
"What! No, you can't! I said, get your own!"
"But it's nice to share!"
"Well I'm not feeling particularly nice right now!"
"Just stop it!" Hitsugaya was at the end of his rope now. He gave his subordinates his patented look of stern disapproval.
"Wait, Captain, have you ever even tried tequila?" She was back to that again. His eyebrow twitched.
"No, Matsumoto, I have not."
"Well, then, it's a perfect time to try! I always say that you need to loosen up, Captain, and not worry so much! It's perfect!"
Hitsugaya's eyebrow twitched again and he told himself that it was the alcohol cleverly disguised as Matsumoto that was speaking to him and not his errant vice captain. It didn't work.
"Here, Captain!" She poured out a shot glass of her tequila and held it out to him expectantly. He eyed the liquid with an acute sense of distrust.
"Wait, you'll give him some and not me!"
"Hai, Renji! He's my captain!"
"But he's a kid!"
"I am not a kid!"
"He's more grown up than you, Renji!"
"Thank you, Matsumoto!"
"I mean, you have the mental capacity of a 2-year-old! Anyone is more mature than you!"
"Hey!"
"Hey!"
Hitsugaya's brow was twitching nonstop. He needed to defend his adulthood.
Renji's eyes were narrowed ominously. He needed to defend his manhood.
And so they were facing off, drinks perched on the table in front of them, waiting to be consumed and then used as an excuse for the general outrageousness of the whole situation. No one in the room—Hitsugaya and Renji included—ever expected to see Captain Hitsugaya pounding down tequila shots, let alone see him give Abarai Renji a run for his money.
Hitsugaya struggled for steadiness, though he was much better at hiding it than Renji, who rocked in his chair, watching Hitsugaya with shaky vision. They both raised the shot glasses to their lips, threw back their heads, and gulped down the tequila with grimaces and warm and wobbly feelings.
Hitsugaya was definitely not used to the strange sensation of drunkenness. He took it in stride, however, noting his blurry vision and urge to pass out in an unabashedly detached manner. Renji wasn't exactly sure why he was downing shots anymore—something about his pride—but he had long ceased to give reason to the madness. After all, he didn't need reasons to get piss-drunk.
So they both continued their competition, the main reason for it slowly slipping from their grips to eventually be lost in the intoxicated haze.
Matsumoto—the instigator of all this—had long ago passed out on the couch, and Hitsugaya wondered briefly if that was why she slept there so often. Renji, on the other hand, knew that was exactly why she slept there so often. Plus, it didn't bother her breasts so much.
Hitsugaya turned his focus back to the tequila and frowned. He had lost track of how many shots they had taken. He distinctly remembered that that was probably the first sign of inebriation; he was most definitely drunk. But was he winning?
Renji couldn't hold his next shot straight, unable to see more than a black and white blob over the rim of the glass. This was familiar territory; he was most definitely drunk. But was he winning?
The question was never answered.
They both passed out.
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END
