"Rightly here where his brother left him, at the bottom of a bottle."
The memory of Madisons biting words echoed unwelcome in his head as Dick swallowed down the burning liquid and tried to ignore the burgeoning awareness that every time he sneaked a glance at Mac like he was Logan with Veronica in Journalism class, she was looking back at him.
"Pleasures, when they go beyond a certain limit, are but punishments." Dick quoted as he slung the damp yellow t-shirt over his shoulder and pushed the empty tequila bottle away, sucking on a lime. The waitress he had collided with during his meandering around the bar hadn't been as open to procuring him another bottle of scotch from behind the bar as her earlier colleague.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Mac asked with wide eyes as she look in Dick's bare chest beneath the open orange Hawaiian shirt.
What the hell? He wasn't even visibly intoxicated… just really visibly undressed. He had a body that looked like Michaelangelo sculpted it, tall, athletic and sun-kissed by Apollo himself.
He'd just returned from taking a quick lap around the bar then he positioned himself between her and Piz, giving her his undivided attention.
"I'm Hot!" he shrugged. Her stomach flipped and twisted as her gray eyes defied her control and wandered down his form. "Somethings are within your control. And some things are not… and the outfit is absolute money."
"Did you just call yourself a super sexy tiger and then quote Marcus Aurelius?" Piz asked in disbelief.
"Epictetus." Dick burped reaching for a bottle of beer, his blue eyes focused on hers, the corner of his mouth kicking up at the corner when she shifted, crossing her legs.
Gaze and wait.
"I didn't know Frat Boys knew anything of their ancient forebearers." Piz muttered.
"Emperor dude had slick panty dropping lines. 'Give yourself a gift: the present moment.'" Dick retorted throwing a peanut in the air and catching it in his mouth. He smirked when Mac looked away. Not one of Piz's cheesy toothy grins, what a low value dude.
Simp. You had to know a land to rule it.
60 second window… if she was interested, she would look back.
Do not lick her face.
He tossed a coin onto the table. "Smell anything? You should because it's a cent."
"I'm not 100% sure isn't unhygienic, I mean they serve food here." Mac reminded him. Why on Earth was he not wearing a shirt?
This was giving her flashbacks to High School when he organised the Trunk Hunk's 09er calendar in Senior year and he competed against his ex-girlfriend Madison's car wash. The image of Dick Casablancas sponging himself down in the school parking lot wearing nothing but speedos writhing around in bubbles on his all his dads expensive cars was forever burned in her memory.
Did the guy have a personal trainer or was it all the sex? He looked good enough to climb… which had to be the alcohol talking.
"Stand straight, not held straight." Wallace quoted with a raised brow as Dick reached for another shot.
"Good idea, you should slow down." Dick agreed and poached the glass out of Mac's hand and placed it on the table behind her, his big body brushing closer as he checked out his watch. She opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut when she noticed he hadn't stepped back.
It could be deeply unsettling when life wasn't the way you thought it was, when people left you feeling blind-sighted. The many perspectives of how we remembered the past, were not always a uniform occurrence, many eyes all saw different aspects of the same events. Sometimes no one saw how terrible something truly could be until it destroyed everything.
Sometimes when they all hung out around Logan, it felt like she and Dick were on their way to being friends, and then others… he looked at her with the weight of their history between them and she realized that it would probably always be there. Until they took turns whacking at that misery pinata and all those horrid truths came out.
"Look great…" Dick swallowed hard as he curled a finger around the blue strands of hair near her ear, his eyes shining with amusement and tension. "Not like Pip's Unibrow."
"Unbelievable." Piz grumbled getting up from his seat and taking the pool que from Wallace.
"It's Piz, not Pip." Mac corrected, trying to resist the urge to preen as she tucked the strands of hair safetly behind one ear.
"I know." Dick shrugged. "Nothing happens to anyone that he can't endure."
"More of your Roman pick up lines?" she commented, guessing it had to be another quote of some kind from the emphasis in his tone.
The truth was coming out a little more with every shot.
"No, that one was framed picture in my therapists office." Dick informed her casually as his hand brushed her arm, reaching for the bowl of nuts beside her. "You can commit injustice by doing nothing."
Therapy.
The mention of it made Mac want to dart to the bathroom. It had been almost too easy to forget his earlier slip before he wrestled that signature Casablancas smile onto his face before anyone else had noticed. The way he held himself carefully.
"Did your therapist suggest the Absinthe?" Mac asked looking pointedly at the new round of shots. This conversation definitely needed someone more qualified than her.
"Take the shortest route, the one that nature planned." He shrugged reaching for a glass, she grabbed his forearm and halted his movement.
"Marcus Aurelius' wasn't talking about the green fairy." She frowned, it was jarring to see this naked, raw side of Dick. Her head felt like a blender, she turned and reached for the shots herself, downing both in quick succession before he could take them.
What was he even doing? A kiss with Cindy Mackenzie would hardly be the worst thing to happen to him this year...
Usually he'd be hitting a girl up with a cheesy line, or mining informational nuggets by asking her what was her story. Except… he already knew that part.
She was his little brothers broken love story.
She was not his…
Even if they did almost share the same secret language.
"Yo dude! What's the difference between a mosquito and a blonde?" Brendon, one of his Pi Sig brothers snorted patting Dick on the shoulder. "A mosquito stops sucking when you smack it!"
"I see you like to swallow." Dick commented and she rolled her eyes, grabbing her flannel shirt from the back of her chair, making a split second decision to weave through the crowd to the small unoccupied smoking area, most of the clouds around the bar suggested the patrons didn't care much for the rules.
"No, wait-wait I got one!" Anders called out to Dick as he followed Mac through the bar. "What does a blonde and a turtle have in common? Once on their backs they're screwed!"
"Why am I even wasting my time with this?" she demanded gesturing between them.
The energy crackling around them in the cool night air.