[ he really is going this time! he stumbles his way from the living room to the hall and actually stops to ask for directions to the back yard so he can get there without, in fact, getting lost.
and while he's on his way there he looks down to text John with more stupid, drunken warnings of his impending approach, and ends up running full-body into someone in the hall. not hard enough to knock anyone over, but enough to warrant a verbal "oof." ]
Yo, my bad, I—oh heyyy, the fuck do you know. I toldja I was comin' for you, dude.
[ off he goes. one glance back over his shoulder to make sure John is coming and then he wobbles his way around to the kitchen. it's not as populated as most of the other rooms, empty bottles and glasses covering most of the counter space. there is still a punchbowl and snack bar that isn't completely picked dry, and of course that's exactly where Dave goes. ]
He's just gonna lean against the counter with his cup affixed to his mouth and his eyes determinedly falling just about anywhere else. Because he really just. He just.]
[ he would argue that he's plenty attractive chowing down on a surplus of nuts, thank you very much. and when he's done narrowly avoiding choking on them, he pops open a soda, in a display of overwhelming maturity and responsible decisions.
[ obviously yes, look how well it's served Dave, who can hardly stand up straight and is now unabashedly checking John out as he turns away. damn he sure has a nerd for a friend. at least that nerd friend has a nice butt. ]
[John's not even trying to pretend anymore that he's avoiding looking at the other boy, studiously admiring the state of the kitchen instead, and glancing only really briefly at anybody else coming or going, like they're going to overhear something embarrassing.]
Man, people really have made a mess of this place!
[Okay, maybe just a really embarrassingly poor attempt at distraction.]
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windsocks) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
robodicking2012-11-10 11:29 pm
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ok htats it im ocing out there for real hsi time
you better run egebrrt im COMING for u
right
nwow
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enjoy your shitty crowded couch you drunken jerk.
[That's when he casually absconds to "go to the bathroom." And just heads out straight to the front lawn.
With any luck, he can keep Dave running in circles.]
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and while he's on his way there he looks down to text John with more stupid, drunken warnings of his impending approach, and ends up running full-body into someone in the hall. not hard enough to knock anyone over, but enough to warrant a verbal "oof." ]
Yo, my bad, I—oh heyyy, the fuck do you know. I toldja I was comin' for you, dude.
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Ow... [He rubs the offended area, looking red-faced and slightly panicked.] Dammit, Dave! Why couldn't you just stay on that couch?
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[ he adjusts his shades, wincing for a brief second. ]
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[Not looking at Dave right now. Nope.]
How much of that vodka did you drink, anyway?
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[ shrug. ]
Oh yeah, I had a couple cock-n-rums before that, too.
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[He resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Just barely.]
I've only had, like, two Smirnoff Ices. How did you even manage that much?
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Sheer determination, man. Or boredom. I forget which by now. It's just what you do at parties.
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Yeah, I guess you're right about that.
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[ swaying and using John's arm for support. just be glad it hasn't gotten more drapey than that yet. ]
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[John glances around, wondering if people are staring yet. No. No, it's just him. Him and his stupid bright-red face.]
The kitchen, maybe? I think there's still some stuff in there.
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[ off he goes. one glance back over his shoulder to make sure John is coming and then he wobbles his way around to the kitchen. it's not as populated as most of the other rooms, empty bottles and glasses covering most of the counter space. there is still a punchbowl and snack bar that isn't completely picked dry, and of course that's exactly where Dave goes. ]
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Don't even think about it, dude.
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[ grabs a big ol giant handful of cashews and mashes them all into his mouth at the same time. ]
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He's just gonna lean against the counter with his cup affixed to his mouth and his eyes determinedly falling just about anywhere else. Because he really just. He just.]
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right before he stumbles into the counter. ]
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And judging you.]
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What?
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[It's sad, because that was meant to be sarcastic, and it came out sounding sarcastic, but it still makes his face go bright red saying it.
He's just gonna hide behind his cup now. Damn, this punch is strong.]
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Thank you.
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He's just turning away, now. He can't handle this. He could hardly handle it over texts.
He needs more punch. Punch will solve everything.]
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Man, people really have made a mess of this place!
[Okay, maybe just a really embarrassingly poor attempt at distraction.]
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[ that soda is pretty much gone already. he turns into a liquid receptacle during times like these, who knew. ]
What'd you expect?
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