Notes: Thank to SoraItou for reviewing, as well as to the Anon.

Feeling rather dejected, Bryan found himself in the tattoo shop for the rest of the day attending to clients. In a way he could not fully process what he'd been told earlier about Yuri. On the other hand, he could not think of why Yuri's friend, Rei, would lie to him. And the fact that the red haired man would not leave his thoughts despite his best efforts made him increasingly frustrated.

His coworkers and friends had not failed to notice his changed behaviour. They knew that tattooing was what Bryan loved to do most in the world. As such, they linked his unusually short temper to having a bad day in general.

"You want to talk about it?" a tanned, light blue haired man questioned when Bryan cursed angrily upon accidentally dropping a needle, "You're on such a short fuse."

"No, Garland," Bryan said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, leave him be until he cools down about it," Julia, a beautiful girl who co-owned the shop with Bryan, spoke as she chewed loudly on a piece of gum.

"Thank you," Bryan scoffed, and turned back to cleaning and sanitizing the equipment form his last customer.

"Okay guys," said a blonde, handsome boy from where he lounged lazily on the couch, "I know Julia's got one more client, but I think we should take a break after and go out tonight. So how about it?"

Garland flexed his muscles and grinned, "You know, Miguel, you have the tendency to say the right thing at the right time."

"I say we do it," Julia supported, "We haven't done anything fun for a long time now."

All three turned on Bryan, who kept his eyes firmly on the tattoo gun in his hand, "What says you?"

"You guys go, but only if you finish everything you've got today," he told them.

Julia's hand snaked along his neck, "Oh, no," she lamented, "You're coming with us." Bryan's protest was cut short when she turned, grinning, and called to the last member of their little club.

"Oi, Raul, we're going out tonight!"

Any attempt of Bryan's to oppose his friends proved to be useless. By seven in the evening he found himself being driven quite along his will in Julia's cruiser to a bar they had all learned to love. Miguel, Garland, and Raul were all squeezed in the back, assuring him that they did not need the empty seat his not being there would have offered. But they were right; by the time the neon sign blaring SOLYANKA CLUB zoomed nearer, Bryan was already anticipating the night. Garland and Miguel hooted in the back as Julia parked the car, and they all jumped out.

The line into the dance club was not long; they were soon out of the cold and into the combined heat of the bodies thriving in the wide, nicely decorated space. The music was blaring, and a few people were dancing. Others were sipping on their drinks and laughing in excitement for what the night would bring. Still others were in the game area, playing pool and causing a ruckus.

The five friends sat at the bar and let themselves go.

"Oh fuckkk," Bryan swore as the keys slipped out from his hand for the second time.

"Here, let me do it," Miguel whispered, leaning for support on the corridor wall.

"No," Bryan snapped and picked the keys up again, trying to jab them in the keyhole and open his apartment door. It was one in the morning and they had just gotten back from their night out. Julia had dropped them at his apartment since Miguel lived father away and took Garland to crash with her and her brother. Bryan snorted as he remembered all the obvious touches and smiles the two had shared as the key finally slipped in and the door gave way.

They stumbled from the dimly lit corridor into the darker house. Bryan's hand found the light switch and flipped it on. He winced from the sudden onslaught and Miguel cursed fluently, moving from the narrow entrance hall into a side door. Bryan sighed and followed, feeling exhausted. He usually held alcohol very well, but knew he'd taken it a step too far that night. He felt disoriented and acknowledged that he was truly wasted. Laughing quietly under his breath, he followed his guest into his own bedroom.

Miguel had fallen, still wearing shoes, in the center of Bryan's king sized bed. The lilac-haired man sighed and pulled them off before ordering him roughly to move to the side.

"Nnn," Miguel protested but obliged. In the half darkness of the room, the moon outside being the only source of illumination, Bryan saw that his eyes were unfocused. He laughed again, despite himself.

"Fuck this," he said as he dropped, fully dressed, on the right side of the bed, "Tomorrow's going to be shit. Hangovers and work don't mix very well."

A murmur of agreement greeted him from his companion, who then said, "Unlike my cocktail."

Bryan hated the continuous urge to laugh, but allowed himself a chuckle. He turned on his side and closed his eyes, ready to travel to dreamland.

It was not long before he felt arms snake around him and Miguel pressing his face into the back of his jacket. Too lazy to object to this action, he let himself drift off.

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