Bobby and Shinobi, Backdated to 19/02/13
Mar. 17th, 2013 06:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainShinobi's the one they call Dr. Feelgood. He's the one that makes you feel all right. At least, in Bobby's case.
On entering his room, first thing Bobby did was dump his sports bag in the bottom of his wardrobe. Still in his gym shorts and an old t-shirt cut up to show off his arms and his sides to full effect, he crossed the room to plug his i-pod into Blaine's sound system and started flicking through for something good.
He should probably shower soon though with Shinobi probably already on his way he decided to put it off for the moment. Besides he was still riled up from the encounter with Brian which was stupid since they hadn't fought or even argued. Getting drunk would fix that though, he was sure of it.
Possessing, despite his best efforts, at least vestigial traces of basic social courtesy, Shinobi knocked before phasing his face through Roberto's door. And what luck! The roommate wasn't home. Not that he would have minded sharing his time or his alcohol--Blaine was, Shaw had noticed, quite pretty, though that wasn't terribly uncommon at this school--but his Latin friend seemed in need of someone to pull him back from the edge of sulking. And that, Shinobi felt, was most effectively accomplished when he was not splitting his attention.
"Bonjour, mon âme!" he greeted. "I'll have to open the door properly to get the bottle through, but I prefer to say hello this way. Makes it much easier to catch people in a pleasantly half-clothed state. Unclothed, if I'm really lucky."
"Bon soir." Roberto corrected for the time of day with a welcoming smile as he spun around. "And funnily enough I had been pondering a shower but thought you might appreciate the sweaty, post-gym look instead. Not that I've put much thought into your preferences, of course." As he spoke he crossed over to the door to open it for the other boy. "Though I suspect this was just your flare for the dramatics wanting a big entrance more than anything else?" Not that Bobby could thrown stones at that one. Much.
Shinobi didn't move, letting his face pass back through the door as it swung open. As it finished, he held out a fine high end tequila enticingly. "And what other sort of entrance would you expect? If it weren't for the grand ones, I'd probably never go anywhere at all." He handed the liquor off to Roberto and flopped contentedly down upon the closest bed--never mind he had no idea which of the two occupants it belonged to. "Not that I mind the excuse to pay you a visit," he drawled, "but are you all right? I don't mean to pry; I just don't want to feel as though I'm taking advantage."
"For the record? Nobody takes advantage of me without my permission." Bobby smirked before continuing "Nothing specific just a shitty day and I thought to myself how, or who, could improve this mess? You were my first text, for which you should feel complimented."
After some rummaging around as he spoke, he turned to show the two novelty shot glasses Angelo had gifted to him at Christmas. He carried the bottle, whose label he had glanced over approvingly, and said glasses over to the bed and sat beside the boy currently sprawled on his bed. "How about you?"
From his languid position, Shinobi offered a shrug. "I really didn't have anything else compelling going on. And despite what is said of the Shaws as a lineage, I like to think I'm a decent enough friend. Though decency is often a foreign concept to me, so I suppose I'm not the best judge." He took one of the glasses from Roberto and gestured for him to crack open the bottle. "Still!" he brightened noticeably. "I'm pleased you thought of me first. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's forgetfulness."
He eyed Roberto up and down seriously, then added, "When will you let me get you fitted for some suitable Club attire? You would, if you'll forgive my foray into the vulgar parlance, rock the Jane Austen look like a fucking boss."
Obediently Bobby opened the bottle and set about pouring the first shots. It was a shame that they had neither salt nor lime to hand but it certainly wasn't going to stop them from having fun.
"You want to play dress up with me, Shinobi?" Bobby teased, his spirit already feeling a little lighter. "But you know I can rock any look I like...though I cannot confess to being very familiar with the 'Jane Austen' look at all."
Shinobi downed his first shot without hesitation. "Well. I'm more interested in undressing you, but I suppose there's a certain appeal to the other option." He waved the small glass vessel toward Roberto imploringly. "And leave the minor little details to me; as you say, you can rock any look. It's just a matter of putting something together in your size, and in flattering colors." He grinned roguishly.
Having downed his own shot at the same time as the other boy, Bobby refilled the glasses before downing again.
"Plenty of people want to undress me. Most in fact, but only a lucky few get to." His teasing was utterly shameless. Though they hadn't been exactly close before it was a dynamic that had always existed between them: Shinobi flirted and Bobby preened and teased. He never really thought much into it and anyway, he was starting to have fun again and that was the whole point. Fun. "And you'd have to work very hard indeed to find a colour that did not flatter me, meu amigo."
"Don't I know it!" Shinobi agreed enthusiastically. Seemingly by reflex, he guided Bobby's hand to pour him another shot. This was a familiar and comfortable game, but interesting because it was one he was playing with an actual peer. Not a dear acquaintance like Warren, but definitely a fond one. "You'll be the belle of the ball, dear heart. You're not opposed to lace, are you? I know that southern machismo might not be completely compatible with some of the more flamboyant options in attire I might suggest."
Bobby pulled a face, more thoughtful than one of disgust or distaste, before downing his shot and pouring them more. He didn't so much mind Shinobi's guiding hand in the task, he was a tactile person himself anyway, and with the speed they were doing the shots he already had the beginnings of a pleasant buzz. It wouldn't do to spill some of the precious liquid.
"Keep bringing me gifts like this to share." Bobby gestured with the bottle to make his point. "And I think you'll find my answer will be yes to most things." He snickered at himself happily before skulling his next shot quickly."My machismo is perfectly secure in whatever I wear, I think you'll find."
Grinning, Shinobi accepted his refreshed shot with a happy nod. "I think you will find my magnanimity knows few bonds," he assured the other teen. "Particularly when it comes to mind-altering substances. But I'm glad to hear about the security of your machismo. That will make it much easier to foist the breeches and brocade coat off on you. I'm thinking something in red?"
"Why weren't you here sooner?" Bobby asked as he rearranged himself, almost gracefully flopping back on his bed, propping himself up with an elbow. There happier already. Fucking Brian.
"Red looks very good on me," He continued once happy with his positioning. "As you saw at the dance."
"Oh, I did, I did," Shinobi agreed with a nod. "Definitely a hot color palette for this little Brazilian fireball." He slithered around Roberto like a snake, lying on his side to coil around his hips, one hand holding his cup while the other rested lightly on the other boy's side. "And I would have outed myself ages ago, if I'd known freak school would be this nice."
Shaw cocked his head, his expression going not exactly serious, but a few shades less whimsical. "You know I'm happy to distract you from," Shinobi half-shrugged, "whatever, really, but I can't help thinking maybe you oughtn't let anything trouble you this much. Escape is fine, but I'd like to believe my entertainment value extends a little further than that, neh?"
For a brief moment Roberto wondered if he should object to the sudden intimacy though quickly decided that if he had to wonder about it then he really didn't have any real objections to it. Besides he did far worse to plenty of his other friends so why should he mind? It was quite comfortable really and a sensible way for them to both settle on the single bed. So, instead of raising any sort of objection, he very carefully refilled the shot glasses with an expression of utmost concentration.
He only spoke one he'd replaced the cap on the bottle. "Oh, meu amigo, have I insulted you by some how implying I only want you for your alcohol? I value you for far more than that, I assure you...though your taste is as exquisite as ever." He honestly did like Shinobi a lot and enjoyed his company immensely. Not just because he flattered so constantly either, though that certainly helped.
Bobby paused again, this time weighing his words carefully. Though he felt he spoke it often better than the natives, English was still his second language and when indulging it could at times impair his vocabulary. "I haven't been myself for too long and I have decided enough is enough. Fun Bobby needs to make a come back, the Bobby you met at those dull parties we always found ways to liven up. I want to be me again and I am going to be, I have decided this. Now."
"Sou ka," said Shinobi, nestling closer, but without any real intention. "You must always be you, of course. I think I understand. It's easy to forget ourselves when things so radically different from what we expect happen, right? For me, it was being shipped off to this place. Being a mutant never really bothered me, even before I knew what the word meant--it was just one other distinction between me and the commoners. I was happy to abuse my powers for my own amusement ... right up until I was caught at it."
He swallowed down his latest drink. "The old man thinks he can just hold me here for a few years, take his time deciding what to do with me. He expects me to be miserable the whole time. I think, based on what I've seen of this place so far, that the whole thing might just blow up in his face. And I can hardly wait to rub his face in it."
"My father thought about cutting me off when I got here. He quickly changed his mind when it was pointed out his little empire would have no heir. Et voila! I'm forgiven. Like magic." Bobby snickered before downing his shot. "And yes, if your father is assuming this to be some sort of boot camp then he'll be sorely disappointed. Serve the bastard right." He shifted just a little to accommodate the other boy more comfortably for the both of them, his leg had been starting to go to sleep from his position. "We will not forget ourselves again, agreed?"
"As if I could ever forget something so unspeakably magnificent," Shinobi returned airily. He raised his shot glass in salute. "To disappointing our fathers!" the half-Japanese boy offered with a grin. "May every hour speed them on their way to incontinence and bed sores."
Which a chuckle, Bobby happily toasted before knocking back the drink quickly. He didn't exactly hate his father, he was indifferent which was perhaps worse. His father was a good business man but not a good family man and an even worse husband than he was a father. Still, there had been a few things worth learning from him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the pleasant feeling running through him. The warm, liquid happiness currently going straight to his head. It felt good to loosen up, especially after he'd come so close to losing his temper and, as a result, losing control of his powers. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he just wanted to feel good. Like now. Right now it was as though he hadn't a care in the world.
Eyes still closed, he thought out loud. "I know what I need. I need to get out of this place for a while sometime. And I so need to get fucking laid."
"From your lips to the ears of the nearest willing succubus," Shinobi agreed. "Where would you like to go? The world is our oyster, 'Berto, and there's no reason we shouldn't enjoy the run of it while we're young, spoilt, and barely responsible. And, more tellingly, who would you like to bring along? Tell Uncle Shinobi! This one's totally on me. Well, on Shaw Industries, but it's the same thing. Believe me, the accountants eat out of my hand. They give Sebastian more grief than me when it comes to miscellaneous expenses."
Just one of the many advantages of being more a people-person, he supposed.
Nearest willing what? Bobby couldn't decide if it was a word he hadn't learnt yet or a word that tequila had made him forget. He quickly brushed it off as unimportant either way because the rest of what Shinobi was saying was far too interesting. Of course he could afford anything Shinobi could, however he certainly wouldn't turn down a friend's generosity. He could easily return it another day if he wished to, after all. "I don't know where, I've only had one real night out since coming here," And he was so not thinking about the night Lil and Kurt got shot. "And I do not have anyone specific in mind. I just know it has been far, far too long menino."
"Far too long, indeed," Shinobi agreed. This was far, far too maudlin a turn for someone as delightful as Roberto. He had his share of damage, of course--legitimate reasons for his sudden downturns of mood and occasional indecision. But, in Shaw's mind, the sooner they got him back into living life, as opposed to merely enduring it, the better off they would all be.
Especially Shinobi, whose appetite for entertaining company was quite literally bottomless.
"Leave it to me," he repeated. "I'll hammer out a guest list and begin looking for a suitable venue. And it will be spectacular."
"Now that's what I like to hear." Slowly Bobby opened his eyes and turned his head towards Shinobi and smiled a touch vaguely. "Knew you were the one to count on. Fuck, I'm a mess, aren't I?" He laughed at himself, shaking his head.
"Yes," Shinobi agreed. "You are." He held up his glass for another refill, and nodded toward Roberto's own empty glass "But we'll get you fixed up, never fear." He nuzzled the other boy's thigh like an affectionate cat. "We're all a mess at some point or another, for some reason or another. Unfortunately, time rarely affords us the luxury of working things through at our own pace. Even those as used to luxury as we are."
Half sitting up, the Brazilian boy refilled the shot glances on command after having playfully petted Shinobi's hair. Well, if he was going to act like a pet then Roberto would treat him as such. A thought that had been amusing enough to him in his semi-intoxicated state that he was smiling widely again for now. "Obrigado, meu amigo. You must know I appreciate it. How do I thank you in your own tongue?" He had been meaning to add Japanese to his list of 'to learn' languages. Though Mandarin was proving to be a good challenge he was mastering it gradually.
"If you mean Japanese, then 'arigatou' will do," Shinobi replied, holding his glass under his chin. "If you mean my own personal tongue ... well, I think that wouldn't be anything you'd care for. But I'd settle for a hug?" He blinked up at Roberto ingenuously, then tipped the tequila back into his throat with practiced ease, even from his somewhat awkward position. "What are friends for, after all?"
"Yes I meant Japanese." Bobby chuckled before knocking back his own shot quite happily. As he lowered the glass he considered his friend thoughtfully. "You know, one day when you least expect it I'm probably gonna have to kiss you. Considering how you always strive for the very best and most pleasurable of experiences." He grinned without a hint of modesty. "But for now you can have all the hugs you want, so long as sweaty gym clothes don't bother you."
"Mm," Shinobi fairly purred. "The sweaty gym clothes are no deterrent whatsoever." He toyed idly with the fabric at Roberto's hip. "And I will look forward tot he day I'm least expecting with great anticipation. I suspect you are an unimpeachable kisser."
"And I'm sure Lil and Tessa will happily confirm that for you." The Brazilian boy informed him confidently, thoroughly enjoying the pandering to his ego as he continued. "Though as hugs go I suspect you are a little low down unless your definition of a hug is very different to mine." He laughed at his own joke, playfully ruffling the other boy's hair again before refilling Shinobi's shot glass.
Shinobi swallowed down his latest drink happily, then rolled onto his back, still half-wrapped around Roberto, but more loosely than before. "My definition of a hug is extremely liberal," he confided. "My advice would be to let your impulses run wild. It's what I do, certainly!"
"And I am sure it is what gets you in half the trouble and shenanigans I've heard tell of." Roberto started pouring himself another shot, mentally noting that if they continued at this pace the tequila would be history sooner rather than later. It didn't matter when he was starting to feel good though. He had a decent buzz going, ok it was more than a buzz at this point but still, good music and good company. He could certainly have done worse this evening.
He drained the glass quickly before asking thoughtfully. "Do you know why I first approached you? At whatever function or event we were both dragged to."
"I assumed it was because I was the only other person of approximately the same age and height."
"Nope. It was because my father warned me you were trouble. Fucking hilarious. And of course, if I am told there is one person I am not allowed to meet then I will find them. So I made a beeline for the infamous Shinobi Shaw because I'm a spoilt brat and had to meet you. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know you did not disappoint." Bobby wasn't quite sure why he was sharing, it was just coming out of his mouth. Much better than the times when alcohol robbed him of his English though, he decided. "I dunno, the impulse thing reminded me. You are a very bad influence." He waggled a finger at the other boy. "Admittedly, I rarely need much encouragement."
"I hadn't noticed," Shinobi drawled, really quite flattered to have been considered infamous within the rarefied circles ruled by their fathers. "But all this praise is bound to begin going to my head even faster than the tequila. I'll admit, I often didn't care who I was getting into trouble with, as long as their was mischief to be had. All the same, I can't say I'm not enormously satisfied that you and so many of the others have turned up; rather broadens my options for picking up where I left off, I think." And he would, because he was incorrigible.
"We should drink to our good genes," he suggested humorously. "They are, after all, the ultimate cause of our too-long-delayed reunion."
Since Bobby hardly even needed the encouragement anyway, the shot glasses were full again before the other boy had even stopped speaking.
"Also the reason why we're just too damned gorgeous." He added as he lightly clinked the shot glasses together in a mini toast.
It disappeared all too quickly and Bobby picked up the bottle again. It was really getting emptier at an alarming rate.
"What will we do when it's all gone?" He wondered aloud.
Shinobi was in the midst of exhaling happily, his cheeks ruddy and his better judgment--such as it was--now well and truly muddled. He eyed the mostly-empty bottle with extreme gravity before saying, somewhat philosophically, "Ah, dear Roberto, it's never all gone. When this one's through, we'll just get another. Until we're satisfied."
There was some very deep irony underlying those pronouncements, he was sure ... but he couldn't quite articulate it precisely just then. All for the best, really. Who wanted to ruin a perfectly good drinking session with unwanted depth?
On entering his room, first thing Bobby did was dump his sports bag in the bottom of his wardrobe. Still in his gym shorts and an old t-shirt cut up to show off his arms and his sides to full effect, he crossed the room to plug his i-pod into Blaine's sound system and started flicking through for something good.
He should probably shower soon though with Shinobi probably already on his way he decided to put it off for the moment. Besides he was still riled up from the encounter with Brian which was stupid since they hadn't fought or even argued. Getting drunk would fix that though, he was sure of it.
Possessing, despite his best efforts, at least vestigial traces of basic social courtesy, Shinobi knocked before phasing his face through Roberto's door. And what luck! The roommate wasn't home. Not that he would have minded sharing his time or his alcohol--Blaine was, Shaw had noticed, quite pretty, though that wasn't terribly uncommon at this school--but his Latin friend seemed in need of someone to pull him back from the edge of sulking. And that, Shinobi felt, was most effectively accomplished when he was not splitting his attention.
"Bonjour, mon âme!" he greeted. "I'll have to open the door properly to get the bottle through, but I prefer to say hello this way. Makes it much easier to catch people in a pleasantly half-clothed state. Unclothed, if I'm really lucky."
"Bon soir." Roberto corrected for the time of day with a welcoming smile as he spun around. "And funnily enough I had been pondering a shower but thought you might appreciate the sweaty, post-gym look instead. Not that I've put much thought into your preferences, of course." As he spoke he crossed over to the door to open it for the other boy. "Though I suspect this was just your flare for the dramatics wanting a big entrance more than anything else?" Not that Bobby could thrown stones at that one. Much.
Shinobi didn't move, letting his face pass back through the door as it swung open. As it finished, he held out a fine high end tequila enticingly. "And what other sort of entrance would you expect? If it weren't for the grand ones, I'd probably never go anywhere at all." He handed the liquor off to Roberto and flopped contentedly down upon the closest bed--never mind he had no idea which of the two occupants it belonged to. "Not that I mind the excuse to pay you a visit," he drawled, "but are you all right? I don't mean to pry; I just don't want to feel as though I'm taking advantage."
"For the record? Nobody takes advantage of me without my permission." Bobby smirked before continuing "Nothing specific just a shitty day and I thought to myself how, or who, could improve this mess? You were my first text, for which you should feel complimented."
After some rummaging around as he spoke, he turned to show the two novelty shot glasses Angelo had gifted to him at Christmas. He carried the bottle, whose label he had glanced over approvingly, and said glasses over to the bed and sat beside the boy currently sprawled on his bed. "How about you?"
From his languid position, Shinobi offered a shrug. "I really didn't have anything else compelling going on. And despite what is said of the Shaws as a lineage, I like to think I'm a decent enough friend. Though decency is often a foreign concept to me, so I suppose I'm not the best judge." He took one of the glasses from Roberto and gestured for him to crack open the bottle. "Still!" he brightened noticeably. "I'm pleased you thought of me first. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's forgetfulness."
He eyed Roberto up and down seriously, then added, "When will you let me get you fitted for some suitable Club attire? You would, if you'll forgive my foray into the vulgar parlance, rock the Jane Austen look like a fucking boss."
Obediently Bobby opened the bottle and set about pouring the first shots. It was a shame that they had neither salt nor lime to hand but it certainly wasn't going to stop them from having fun.
"You want to play dress up with me, Shinobi?" Bobby teased, his spirit already feeling a little lighter. "But you know I can rock any look I like...though I cannot confess to being very familiar with the 'Jane Austen' look at all."
Shinobi downed his first shot without hesitation. "Well. I'm more interested in undressing you, but I suppose there's a certain appeal to the other option." He waved the small glass vessel toward Roberto imploringly. "And leave the minor little details to me; as you say, you can rock any look. It's just a matter of putting something together in your size, and in flattering colors." He grinned roguishly.
Having downed his own shot at the same time as the other boy, Bobby refilled the glasses before downing again.
"Plenty of people want to undress me. Most in fact, but only a lucky few get to." His teasing was utterly shameless. Though they hadn't been exactly close before it was a dynamic that had always existed between them: Shinobi flirted and Bobby preened and teased. He never really thought much into it and anyway, he was starting to have fun again and that was the whole point. Fun. "And you'd have to work very hard indeed to find a colour that did not flatter me, meu amigo."
"Don't I know it!" Shinobi agreed enthusiastically. Seemingly by reflex, he guided Bobby's hand to pour him another shot. This was a familiar and comfortable game, but interesting because it was one he was playing with an actual peer. Not a dear acquaintance like Warren, but definitely a fond one. "You'll be the belle of the ball, dear heart. You're not opposed to lace, are you? I know that southern machismo might not be completely compatible with some of the more flamboyant options in attire I might suggest."
Bobby pulled a face, more thoughtful than one of disgust or distaste, before downing his shot and pouring them more. He didn't so much mind Shinobi's guiding hand in the task, he was a tactile person himself anyway, and with the speed they were doing the shots he already had the beginnings of a pleasant buzz. It wouldn't do to spill some of the precious liquid.
"Keep bringing me gifts like this to share." Bobby gestured with the bottle to make his point. "And I think you'll find my answer will be yes to most things." He snickered at himself happily before skulling his next shot quickly."My machismo is perfectly secure in whatever I wear, I think you'll find."
Grinning, Shinobi accepted his refreshed shot with a happy nod. "I think you will find my magnanimity knows few bonds," he assured the other teen. "Particularly when it comes to mind-altering substances. But I'm glad to hear about the security of your machismo. That will make it much easier to foist the breeches and brocade coat off on you. I'm thinking something in red?"
"Why weren't you here sooner?" Bobby asked as he rearranged himself, almost gracefully flopping back on his bed, propping himself up with an elbow. There happier already. Fucking Brian.
"Red looks very good on me," He continued once happy with his positioning. "As you saw at the dance."
"Oh, I did, I did," Shinobi agreed with a nod. "Definitely a hot color palette for this little Brazilian fireball." He slithered around Roberto like a snake, lying on his side to coil around his hips, one hand holding his cup while the other rested lightly on the other boy's side. "And I would have outed myself ages ago, if I'd known freak school would be this nice."
Shaw cocked his head, his expression going not exactly serious, but a few shades less whimsical. "You know I'm happy to distract you from," Shinobi half-shrugged, "whatever, really, but I can't help thinking maybe you oughtn't let anything trouble you this much. Escape is fine, but I'd like to believe my entertainment value extends a little further than that, neh?"
For a brief moment Roberto wondered if he should object to the sudden intimacy though quickly decided that if he had to wonder about it then he really didn't have any real objections to it. Besides he did far worse to plenty of his other friends so why should he mind? It was quite comfortable really and a sensible way for them to both settle on the single bed. So, instead of raising any sort of objection, he very carefully refilled the shot glasses with an expression of utmost concentration.
He only spoke one he'd replaced the cap on the bottle. "Oh, meu amigo, have I insulted you by some how implying I only want you for your alcohol? I value you for far more than that, I assure you...though your taste is as exquisite as ever." He honestly did like Shinobi a lot and enjoyed his company immensely. Not just because he flattered so constantly either, though that certainly helped.
Bobby paused again, this time weighing his words carefully. Though he felt he spoke it often better than the natives, English was still his second language and when indulging it could at times impair his vocabulary. "I haven't been myself for too long and I have decided enough is enough. Fun Bobby needs to make a come back, the Bobby you met at those dull parties we always found ways to liven up. I want to be me again and I am going to be, I have decided this. Now."
"Sou ka," said Shinobi, nestling closer, but without any real intention. "You must always be you, of course. I think I understand. It's easy to forget ourselves when things so radically different from what we expect happen, right? For me, it was being shipped off to this place. Being a mutant never really bothered me, even before I knew what the word meant--it was just one other distinction between me and the commoners. I was happy to abuse my powers for my own amusement ... right up until I was caught at it."
He swallowed down his latest drink. "The old man thinks he can just hold me here for a few years, take his time deciding what to do with me. He expects me to be miserable the whole time. I think, based on what I've seen of this place so far, that the whole thing might just blow up in his face. And I can hardly wait to rub his face in it."
"My father thought about cutting me off when I got here. He quickly changed his mind when it was pointed out his little empire would have no heir. Et voila! I'm forgiven. Like magic." Bobby snickered before downing his shot. "And yes, if your father is assuming this to be some sort of boot camp then he'll be sorely disappointed. Serve the bastard right." He shifted just a little to accommodate the other boy more comfortably for the both of them, his leg had been starting to go to sleep from his position. "We will not forget ourselves again, agreed?"
"As if I could ever forget something so unspeakably magnificent," Shinobi returned airily. He raised his shot glass in salute. "To disappointing our fathers!" the half-Japanese boy offered with a grin. "May every hour speed them on their way to incontinence and bed sores."
Which a chuckle, Bobby happily toasted before knocking back the drink quickly. He didn't exactly hate his father, he was indifferent which was perhaps worse. His father was a good business man but not a good family man and an even worse husband than he was a father. Still, there had been a few things worth learning from him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the pleasant feeling running through him. The warm, liquid happiness currently going straight to his head. It felt good to loosen up, especially after he'd come so close to losing his temper and, as a result, losing control of his powers. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he just wanted to feel good. Like now. Right now it was as though he hadn't a care in the world.
Eyes still closed, he thought out loud. "I know what I need. I need to get out of this place for a while sometime. And I so need to get fucking laid."
"From your lips to the ears of the nearest willing succubus," Shinobi agreed. "Where would you like to go? The world is our oyster, 'Berto, and there's no reason we shouldn't enjoy the run of it while we're young, spoilt, and barely responsible. And, more tellingly, who would you like to bring along? Tell Uncle Shinobi! This one's totally on me. Well, on Shaw Industries, but it's the same thing. Believe me, the accountants eat out of my hand. They give Sebastian more grief than me when it comes to miscellaneous expenses."
Just one of the many advantages of being more a people-person, he supposed.
Nearest willing what? Bobby couldn't decide if it was a word he hadn't learnt yet or a word that tequila had made him forget. He quickly brushed it off as unimportant either way because the rest of what Shinobi was saying was far too interesting. Of course he could afford anything Shinobi could, however he certainly wouldn't turn down a friend's generosity. He could easily return it another day if he wished to, after all. "I don't know where, I've only had one real night out since coming here," And he was so not thinking about the night Lil and Kurt got shot. "And I do not have anyone specific in mind. I just know it has been far, far too long menino."
"Far too long, indeed," Shinobi agreed. This was far, far too maudlin a turn for someone as delightful as Roberto. He had his share of damage, of course--legitimate reasons for his sudden downturns of mood and occasional indecision. But, in Shaw's mind, the sooner they got him back into living life, as opposed to merely enduring it, the better off they would all be.
Especially Shinobi, whose appetite for entertaining company was quite literally bottomless.
"Leave it to me," he repeated. "I'll hammer out a guest list and begin looking for a suitable venue. And it will be spectacular."
"Now that's what I like to hear." Slowly Bobby opened his eyes and turned his head towards Shinobi and smiled a touch vaguely. "Knew you were the one to count on. Fuck, I'm a mess, aren't I?" He laughed at himself, shaking his head.
"Yes," Shinobi agreed. "You are." He held up his glass for another refill, and nodded toward Roberto's own empty glass "But we'll get you fixed up, never fear." He nuzzled the other boy's thigh like an affectionate cat. "We're all a mess at some point or another, for some reason or another. Unfortunately, time rarely affords us the luxury of working things through at our own pace. Even those as used to luxury as we are."
Half sitting up, the Brazilian boy refilled the shot glances on command after having playfully petted Shinobi's hair. Well, if he was going to act like a pet then Roberto would treat him as such. A thought that had been amusing enough to him in his semi-intoxicated state that he was smiling widely again for now. "Obrigado, meu amigo. You must know I appreciate it. How do I thank you in your own tongue?" He had been meaning to add Japanese to his list of 'to learn' languages. Though Mandarin was proving to be a good challenge he was mastering it gradually.
"If you mean Japanese, then 'arigatou' will do," Shinobi replied, holding his glass under his chin. "If you mean my own personal tongue ... well, I think that wouldn't be anything you'd care for. But I'd settle for a hug?" He blinked up at Roberto ingenuously, then tipped the tequila back into his throat with practiced ease, even from his somewhat awkward position. "What are friends for, after all?"
"Yes I meant Japanese." Bobby chuckled before knocking back his own shot quite happily. As he lowered the glass he considered his friend thoughtfully. "You know, one day when you least expect it I'm probably gonna have to kiss you. Considering how you always strive for the very best and most pleasurable of experiences." He grinned without a hint of modesty. "But for now you can have all the hugs you want, so long as sweaty gym clothes don't bother you."
"Mm," Shinobi fairly purred. "The sweaty gym clothes are no deterrent whatsoever." He toyed idly with the fabric at Roberto's hip. "And I will look forward tot he day I'm least expecting with great anticipation. I suspect you are an unimpeachable kisser."
"And I'm sure Lil and Tessa will happily confirm that for you." The Brazilian boy informed him confidently, thoroughly enjoying the pandering to his ego as he continued. "Though as hugs go I suspect you are a little low down unless your definition of a hug is very different to mine." He laughed at his own joke, playfully ruffling the other boy's hair again before refilling Shinobi's shot glass.
Shinobi swallowed down his latest drink happily, then rolled onto his back, still half-wrapped around Roberto, but more loosely than before. "My definition of a hug is extremely liberal," he confided. "My advice would be to let your impulses run wild. It's what I do, certainly!"
"And I am sure it is what gets you in half the trouble and shenanigans I've heard tell of." Roberto started pouring himself another shot, mentally noting that if they continued at this pace the tequila would be history sooner rather than later. It didn't matter when he was starting to feel good though. He had a decent buzz going, ok it was more than a buzz at this point but still, good music and good company. He could certainly have done worse this evening.
He drained the glass quickly before asking thoughtfully. "Do you know why I first approached you? At whatever function or event we were both dragged to."
"I assumed it was because I was the only other person of approximately the same age and height."
"Nope. It was because my father warned me you were trouble. Fucking hilarious. And of course, if I am told there is one person I am not allowed to meet then I will find them. So I made a beeline for the infamous Shinobi Shaw because I'm a spoilt brat and had to meet you. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know you did not disappoint." Bobby wasn't quite sure why he was sharing, it was just coming out of his mouth. Much better than the times when alcohol robbed him of his English though, he decided. "I dunno, the impulse thing reminded me. You are a very bad influence." He waggled a finger at the other boy. "Admittedly, I rarely need much encouragement."
"I hadn't noticed," Shinobi drawled, really quite flattered to have been considered infamous within the rarefied circles ruled by their fathers. "But all this praise is bound to begin going to my head even faster than the tequila. I'll admit, I often didn't care who I was getting into trouble with, as long as their was mischief to be had. All the same, I can't say I'm not enormously satisfied that you and so many of the others have turned up; rather broadens my options for picking up where I left off, I think." And he would, because he was incorrigible.
"We should drink to our good genes," he suggested humorously. "They are, after all, the ultimate cause of our too-long-delayed reunion."
Since Bobby hardly even needed the encouragement anyway, the shot glasses were full again before the other boy had even stopped speaking.
"Also the reason why we're just too damned gorgeous." He added as he lightly clinked the shot glasses together in a mini toast.
It disappeared all too quickly and Bobby picked up the bottle again. It was really getting emptier at an alarming rate.
"What will we do when it's all gone?" He wondered aloud.
Shinobi was in the midst of exhaling happily, his cheeks ruddy and his better judgment--such as it was--now well and truly muddled. He eyed the mostly-empty bottle with extreme gravity before saying, somewhat philosophically, "Ah, dear Roberto, it's never all gone. When this one's through, we'll just get another. Until we're satisfied."
There was some very deep irony underlying those pronouncements, he was sure ... but he couldn't quite articulate it precisely just then. All for the best, really. Who wanted to ruin a perfectly good drinking session with unwanted depth?
