In vino veritas

God, it had been years since Tarou had come to this bar. Not since... Hm. Not since her. Michael wasn't even there yet, and he was feeling all kinds of nostalgic, for better or worse. It was odd that Michael would have picked out this bar, but he was probably too lazy to properly go online and look at reviews, so when Tarou had listed off several, he probably picked the one that sounded most interesting. Tequila Talonflame was a pretty cool name for a bar, though, even if it was named after a dumb book Tarou never bothered reading when he was in school.

Nervously, he fiddled with his glass of water and glanced at a clock on the wall. Michael was late. He was usually late, typically napping before a night of partying, but this time, he was a little later than usual.

"Uh, hey, will you let me know if you see a guy?" Very specific. When probed, Tarou realized that maybe he should describe his pal. "Uhh, about this tall," he held up an arm to scale, "likes to wear red, dark hair with some shitty dye grown out at the ends, uhh... Oh! He's got a real cute mole like, right here, too." The barmaid asked if he had been stood up for a date, considering how long he had been sitting alone. He furrowed his brow. Man, did Michael stand him up for their mandated man-date? Harsh.

It honestly was no surprise Michael had been late. He had faltered into that habit more and more the older he got, the more shit got on his plate and the more he felt something clutch at his ankles and YANK him down. Not yet, though. Not yet... Not while he was still breathing. Tarou had been right about one thing, he HAD taken a nap with Mumble before the party, slammed the snooze button when it rang and woke up far too late. But that had been a USUAL late... This time, however... He had mulled over a few things... Struggled with himself before finally making his way toward the bar he had picked.

It wasn't that long of a ways to go on King's back, the Togekiss flying high above the city with mighty wings. The moment of contentness that filled him if only for a second at the freedom given high in the air... Before finally the Pokémon descended and came to a full stop before the bar.

A hand rose to pat at King's shoulder twice, hesitant to bring him back to his Pokéball. " You go enjoy yourself, King... Just stick around this place. I'll give you a whistle when we're out. " commented the dark-haired finally, earning a screech from the Togekiss before the large bird spread his wings once more and took off into the sky as Michael made his way inside.

Only to be met with the stern stare of a barmaid, causing him to blink once before slowly holding up a hand in greeting. Did... Did she recogn-- Oh. Oh, of course. He couldn't help the smirk that curled around his lips when the barmaid went off on him about making his date WAIT for so long, causing him to shake his head once before finally making way to where Tarou was, slinging an arm around his shoulders. " Yo, T-T. Heard your heart was all aflutter with my charming absence. "

With a grin ear-to-ear, Tarou was already set in full throttle. Recklessly, he hopped out of his stool, practically skipping like a schoolgirl over to his friend, swooping an arm around his shoulder and leading him toward the counter.

"You're a real jerk, y'know? Making me subject this poor woman to my bitching." He clutched his chest with one hand and dramatically bit his lower lip, shaking his head as he recited lines with gusto. "'Michael, O Michael, wherefore art thou Michael! Deny thy responsibilities and refuse thy ...' Fuck, I don't remember enough to make this joke any longer. You get the point."

Although Michael was late, he hadn't been waiting nearly as long as he'd let on. Tarou had learned through the years that there were a few tricks to make things go a bit more smoothly. First off, lying. Lying about what time he had to be there, telling him anywhere up to an hour before the actual start of something, knowing full well he would ooze into the room fashionably late as always. At least this way he showed up with enough time to have fun. Seeing his buddy Michael smile and have a good time was one of the few things that got Tarou's own hardened exterior to melt away.

"Get over here, asshole! I've already got a game planned for us!" He pulled a seat out for Michael to sit down, then plopped himself back on his own stool in front of the barmaid. "This lovely lady was just telling me about their collection of fine, artisinal spirits on the shelf back there. Some of these prices are--" Tarou sucked air between his teeth,"--p r e t t y steep. So, we're going to make drinks with three different fancy liquors, then a mixer, and whoever can't finish their drink has to pay up. Sound fun?"

" Me, a jerk? I would NEVER. Look at this face, would this face EVER be a jerk? " he gasped, mock offended as he rested a hand to his chest and glanced to his purple-haired friend. And damn it all, because Tarou always managed to make a laugh slip past his lips with his fucking antics. Even in the most bleak of moments. Sure, sure. They were running on borrowed time in a sense... But the other was right, huh? Why not make the fucking best out of the time they still had. " Ah, there we have the most famous Michael and Tarou play... FAMED by it's unorthodox star players. " he drawled, patting his friend's shoulder twice as he moved along with him.

" Right at ya, asshole. " he commented, weaving his way past the crowd of the night to the place Tarou had claimed for them, lips curving momentarily at the barmaid. His long coat was shrugged off, placed over the stool before he sat himself down and leaned forward with a pearly-toothed grin. " Issat so? We must be QUITE lucky with such splendid service, huh? " he spoke before sucking in a breath. Right. Prices.

Rubbing his bottomlip once with a contemplative look, a Cheshire grin finally curled around his lips as he leaned toward Tarou. " You're on, pal. Three different fancy liquors. I hope you can handle a loss. "

"Oh, fuck, you're right. You're too cute to be a jerk. I forgot that the beauty mark just cancels out all assholery right then and there. You got me. I guess I'm fucked." He let out an awful snicker, followed by a few coughs, then clearing out his throat. Surprisingly, his Gengar didn't pop out of his shadow to soothe him this time, but soon enough he was back to normal. Tarou reached into the seat of his pants and pulled out a wallet, enthusiastically slapping it against the countertop.

“I even brought my own wallet this time. Aren't you proud of me?" Last time he'd treated Michael, it had been with a stolen credit card that he """found""" on the streets, and the time before that was on the company's tab. After a very long, very intense sit-down with Iris and Pyrrhus, he realized that maybe, just maybe it would be better to not piss them off.

"Okay, your drink is going to have... That one, that one, and..." He pointed to two fancy bottles on the shelf, one an ornate glass work, the other seemed to be cast out of gold. He then looked around for something unique, something that would catch his eye. “Oh, dude, that one has an Ekans in it! Put a shot of that in his drink! And then… Hmm… I’ll go easy on you. Mix it all with Pecha juice."

He shot a look to Michael. "Think you can handle it? Or are you gonna pussy out? See, if you’ve got the skills, I don’t mind if you don’t pay my bills. But, if you disappoint me, you owe me. I don’t do this out of the goodness of my heart."

" Aaayup, it's all in the fuckin' beauty mark. Tch, ah.. I consider myself so lucky with this. " he spoke, sending the other a somewhat concerned look when he started coughing. A hand rose, patting the purple-haired man on the back a couple of times, a soft sigh being given before he looked back to the drinks on display. Some he knew, others were more of a surprise to him... If he wanted to win this however, he had to ensure he'd put together a cocktail so nasty, the other wouldn't be able to down it... Or... His eyes widened a tiny bit as a thought entered his mind, lips curving.

" Your own wallet, huh? Man, and here I thought I'd have to parkour my way out of the sight of authority again. Which wasn't much of a success last time seeing I wasn't exactly SOBER enough to pull shit like that. " he drawled out. It was one of the few times he had ended up in the hospital to stitch himself up, and vowed to not try shit like that again unless sober. Some things you just COULDN'T do drunk. Parkour was one of them. Icy blues followed the other's finger, watching the bottles being chosen and trying to pin point what kind of drink he'd end up having. The sight of the Ekans caused a shiver down his spine momentarily before he huffed out a laugh. " What, you want me dead, you heathen? Passed out on your lap, babbling nonsense in my blacked out state? " he joked, giving a toothy grin. "BRING it, mate. Qui vivra verra. "

A finger rose. " BUT. Before I down a drink that might be the last of me. " he hummed, pointing to each bottle he wanted Tarou to have. " A bit of THAT.... Anndd... That one over there... " he pondered, pointing to a rather cool-looking bottle with a skull within it ( he wondered how they made such bottles to begin with ), then a simple looking bottle... And then his eyes fell to a bottle with a sunset upon it. It caused his grin to widen for a bit. " And THAT one over there. Hidden just a tad bit behind that bottle. " he spoke, gesturing toward it. " And go on then, spice it all up with some Pecha juice. Just to make sure. "

"I dunno, man, it was still fun to watch. You did get halfway up the wall before tumbling down. But uh, yeah, bonjour and all that crap, whatever." Loquatious as always, dear T-T.

Once their drinks had been made, much to the chagrin of this poor barmaid, she slid their concoctions across the counter to the desired man. Tarou took a whif of his poison, and the pungeant smell of alcohol burned so bad it brought tears to his eyes. He could've sworn if he hovered there any longer, his eyebrows would sear off. He held up his glass to Michael. It was still better than his last attempt playing this game. He had tried it with Pyrrhus--the sadistic bastard--who thought it would be funny to make him drink a cocktail of several different mint and creme liquours--one was specifically creme de menthe, a liquour made to spite his existence--and chase it down with a tall glass of Moo Moo Milk. That may have been the first time Tarou quietly cried in front of Pyrrhus without a knife involved.

"Cheers, to stupid decisions, drinking to forget, and comraderie. At least I know if one of us dies here tonight, we're both going down." Even when he drank to forget, he always remembered. He clinked his glass against his friend's, then started a countdown. "On three. One... Two..."

" Halfway isn't whole way, chump. " he drawled, giving his friend a look before shaking his head with an amused grin. " Yeah, yeah. I don't think that's what you meant but- " he trailed off, leaning forward to peer at the drinks that had been made for them. Their own pretty poison... Now it was just the question WHO'S was so bad that they couldn't pull through... Or maybe they both pulled through and would come to regret it in the morning ( afternoon ). But hey, nothing more satisfying then doing dumb, reckless shit before your expiration date, right?

Careful fingers curled around his own glass, pulling it a bit closer before he peered over at Tarou, who held up his glass toward the other. A small wrinkle of the nose, he lifted his own to peer inside for a split second... Just a second and finally-- " Stupid decisions, drinking to forget and comraderie. Fine things to cheer for. " he agreed, clinking his glass to the others with a grin. " Pshtyeah. To going down together instead of alone. " he added in a cheerful kind of tone, but he knew truth rang in the words they had both spoken.

Three...

Two....

How much was King going to scold him for this the next day?

One.

And down some of the liquid went, eyes squeezed tightly shut at the sheer BURN to his throat. Holy SHIT, Tarou. Holy fucking SHIT what did you PICK. He wasn't even fucking sure if he could make it to the BOTTOM of that glass... f u c k.

Tarou had tasted quite a lot of disgusting things in his day. Food that had fallen on floors, leftovers in the back of a fridge so old they couldn't be identified, he had even put out cigarettes on his tongue just to get under people's skin. But this? This was somehow more offensive than any of that, and the sweetness of the Pecha juice made it even worse. It was like a milkshake made of pure garbage, and someone tried to save it with whipped cream.

The first sip was the worst, causing him to recoil, making a whiskey face so prominent that he receeded into his neck like a Torkoal. All the flavors harshly contrasted eachother in the worst way possible. He would have normally called it quits at that point, but since it was his money on the line, he had to power through. He went back for a second sip, chugging as much back as he could before stopping for breath.

"Noooo-ho-ho-ho... No more..." As he uttered defeat, forfeitting, his voice had the slightest tinge of a whimper. Two thirds of the way done, he wearily popped his glass back onto the countertop, utterly defeated and completely repulsed. Already, his cheeks were radiating a soft pink, normally reserved for at least, the third drink, but it seemed this drink was strong enough to count as three, even with the amount he'd had. "Alright, alright, how... How much does this add to my tab."

The barmaid repeated a number. ₽9350. What? Tarou asked her to repeat, and she complied. Yeah, his hearing worked just fine. Jesus Christ he fucked himself. He pulled out the appropriate bills and handed them to the woman, knowing she'd already put up with enough of their sass for the night. The tip he handed her was paltry at best, but after multiple scoldings from peers, he figured it was better than not tipping. Did they even tip in this region? ...What region was he in again? Oh lord, was his drink hitting him hard.

He thought he would DIE right here and then. The mere expression on his face telling CHAPTERS of a damn book. And he SWORE he thought he would SPIT out that God awful concoction right here and then, but reminded himself that was a LOT of fucking money he would be spitting out. Plus, it would mean Tarou had won. So when he brought the glass to his lips once more, he REFUSED to fucking budge until the other had slammed that glass down. He refused, refused, refused o hgo d h ewas g oin g to die.

Vaguely he heard the other aside him, heard the familiar thud of a glass hitting a counter. Couldn't stop yet. Did he drink it all? No, he said he couldn't take anymore. But who was to say he wouldn't still lose if he stopped now?

So idiot as he was...

He downed it... He fucking downed it all.

And he regretted it the moment he had the glass make contact with the counter, a hand moving over his head. He was going to DIE... First he was going to puke out his damn intestines and then he was going to DIE in a ditch. G O D. " M'sgo'. " he grunted out, vaguely waving his hand a bit in the air when he realized that he HAD won. Because as far as he was concerned, Tarou just asked for the bill. And D A Y U M. What a bill it was. Haha, sucker. Hah... Ugh... Making a face that seemed about ready to DIE, he turned his head a bit to stare at Tarou, cheeks heated. " Worst... Idea... ever. " he managed to string together. " Haha.... Sucker.. Y'lost... Big mouth lil' resolve. "

Tarou reached out and gripped Michael by his cheeks, squishing them with enough force to pucker his lips. He got in very close to taunt him, so close that he was sure the beads of sweat forming on his forehead were now sticking to his friend's hair.

"Listen, buddy, my main man, my good pal, shut the fuck up. Just. Shut. Shut the fuck up. You are an expert on nothing. This big mouth? Gets me out of a looot of shit. It's a smart mouth. But that’s just my opinion. Your opinion--which is trash, by the way--your opinion is different." Tarou had gotten in so close that his nose was pressing against Michael's, squishing their faces together in some sort of bromoerotic game of chicken, his golden eyes giving off the same aura as a Seviper about to strike. However, unable to keep his composure, he let out a large 'pffft' before giving Michael a quick smooch on his forehead, then leaning back in his chair.

"Dude, if this were anything else I would have so totally owned you. I can out-eat, out-suck, out-whatever you because this body ain't a temple, it's a dumpster, and I ain't afraid to set it on fire." Tarou didn’t waste a second pulling a pack of cigarettes and lighter from one of the pockets on his hoodie. However, it wasn’t until halfway through starting his lighter that he realized he should be considerate.

“Uh, you don’t mind if I smoke, right?”

A groan of displeasure was given when his head was lifted from the counter, hands squishing his cheeks together and eyes squinting together a bit as he peered at the one before him. If he was going to throw up all over Tarou, it was his buddy's own damn fault and he would not apologize for it ( atleast not today that was ). " Fucku. " he grunted out, not seeming too phased by the close proximity of their faces ( perhaps back in the days, when first they had met, but he had grown used to it ).

The other's composure completely fell away and all that he felt in the end were lips crashing to his forehead, causing a snort to be given as he sluggishly whapped a hand at the other, a crooked grin to his face. Tarou however, was right. Michael could do MANY things... But he wasn't an unending dumpster as the other was. A lot of the shit the other had done, had left Michael somewhat bewildered, sometimes amused. He had his own fair of shit. But never as extreme as that.

" Mmmhhhm... " he hummed out, arms rested to the corner and chin to his arm as he peered over at Tarou. " I might not.... Buuu' I don' think our bestest buddy pal beautiful girl pal over there's gonna love us smokin' inside, T-T... " he warned, tilting his head a bit toward the barmaid before making a face. Oh. That movement had been too quick. World spun. Not doing that again.

Michael was so right, smoking indoors was kind of a dick move, but like... Tarou was a dick, so the consideration seemingly fell flat.

"Know what? You're right. We should blow this popsicle stand, Mikey. But first..." His eyes locked onto the remainder of the contents in his glass. He was faced with either letting it go to waste--something his weak heart couldn't handle after paying so much--or polishing it off--something his weak somach couldn't handle.

“Psst, hey, Menardi.” Tarou waited for his little buddy to pop her head out of his shadow, then instructed her to say ‘ahh.’ Once her mouth was open, he poured the remainder of his glass down her open gullet, her beady-eyed expression never changing as she gulped it all down without any sign of protest. Once she was done, she melted back into Tarou’s shadow, as if she had never been there. He let out a small chuckle, cigarette bouncing in his mouth as he gripped it between his lips. “God, I feel sorry for the next sucker who gets hit with her Sludge Bomb. That’s gonna suuuuck. C'mon, let's go."

Outside was infinitely better than inside. Outside, the two could puke their guts out, or they could find one of the many late-night pop-up food stands serving drunkards like them, the possibilities were endless! At the very least, the grizzled man could have his smoke. Tarou hopped up out of his stool with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm, slightly wobbly, but he quickly found his bearings and held out a hand to Michael, praying that he could support the weight of his friend.

" Pops'cle... " he snorted, biting back a laugh before turning his head a bit so his cheek rested to his arm as he watched the interaction between 'mon and friend. " Hey... hey, hey, hey... Lissen, man, dude, pal broski... Remind me... remind me not t'spar you until that poison is outta her fuckin' system. " he spoke, wagging a finger in the other's direction. The last thing he needed was.... Whatever poison that had been he had made for Tarou... A blessing that Menardi could down it with ease ( to be fair, Gremlin was much the same, lil shit that she was ).

Oh, oh... O h .... He hadn't quite realized his words would be met in such a direction... Because leaving the place meant moving. He wasn't sure if he trusted himself to do that yet. He wasn't sure if he had a choice either. Icy blues darted to his shadow for a second, a slight pout being given before he looked back to Tarou. Fuck.

Fuck'm sideways.

" A'ight. "

He could do this, he could definitely do this. He wasn't THAT far gone, huh? He was still pretty uh... Hah. Pretty, of course he was pretty.... Heheh.. Pretty-- What was he thinking about aga-- Oh right. A huff before finally he snatched his friend's hand, carefully sliding himself off the stool. He got this. He definitely got this. See? Piece of-- He didn't fucking go this at fucking all oh shit. WHO PULLED THE FLOOR AWAY FROM HIM?!

Letting out a strangled noise, he ended up falling against the other, eyes wide. Maybe he should have considered NOT downing the whole fuckin' thing.

"Woah-hoa, easy there, buddy-boy! We still gotta get you home. Get used to those sea legs, pal, 'cause they're not getting any better." Shooting a smile to the barkeep, mouthing the words 'call me,' he hoisted Michael up and around his shoulders, supporting him from underneath. Michael had been his rock through at least half a dozen rough nights and blackouts, it was the least he could do. Lord was it the least he could do.

Stepping out into the cool night air brought Tarou a little sense of sobriety. Still giddy, but a little more clarity came once the breeze tickled his cheeks. “So uh, how far from here do you live? I'm right down the corner. We can walk to my place, but uh… I haven’t washed the bed sheets in like…” Tarou felt a shiver down his spine. Admitting how long it had been since he washed his sheets would reveal just how disgusting he was, but also how long it had been since he had gotten some action, both incredibly shameful amounts of time to admit. “I need to wash my sheets.”

Based on previous experiences, King was never too far. Michael was a sucker for that bird, and he was never in his Pokeball unless it was absolutely necessary. Such a bleeding heart for a single Togekiss. Tarou brought his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle.

"Kiiiiiing! Come get your man!" he shouted to the heavens, looking to the skies for a gargantuan bird. If Michael didn't have the stamina to keep up with their party-hard lifestyle, being waddled home by a giant pillow was probably the best choice. He gave one more hearty whistle, then eased Michael down to the ground. Sitting on the cold asphalt outside a bar being fall-over drunk was never a good look. He popped a cigarette into Michael's mouth for him, lighting both their smokes together with his zippo. There. Much better. At least now, they were fashionable drunks.

"How're ya feelin'...?" he asked, voice rumbling low, like thunder.

" B r o ... Bro lissen... " whispered the dark-haired, cheek pressed to Tarou's and an UTMOST serious expression upon his face. " ... Anywhere you are is h o m e t'me. " he finally blurted out, a cheeky grin curling around his lips before he patted the other's shoulder twice. " Fuuuccck. I'm fiiiiine. It's not even THAT bad. Y'just... Y'just gotta tell th' ground to stop... Y'know. Wobblin'. Can ya do that for me, fucker? " he huffed out, wrinkling his nose when he was hit with the cold breeze. Oh. Oh that still existed too. " I wanna dissolve into my fuckin' coat. S'cold. " he groaned out before giving a somewhat giddy laugh.

H o m e... L i v e... That was rich. Oh. oh right.

" Take me t'yer dumpster, T-T. Crown me King. Geddit. King... " he snorted at his own 'joke' before making a face at the other's sharp whistle. Oh, OHHHH. Did he want his bird? " An' here I thought I was enough for ya, buddy. Jeez, break my heart. " he commented, putting his fingers between his lips and whistling. Granted, it uh.. It took a few tries before he finally got it right. It wasn't quite the same shrill whistle as he usually used, but it sufficed when it came to the large Togekiss most of the times...

An 'oof' was given as he none too gently was eased to the ground, causing him to flop back a bit and happily accept the cigarette between his lips. " Jus' need a few minutes to get m'bearin's man. " he finally assured the other, inhaling the smoke for a second, closing his eyes as the familiar sound of beating wings grew from above. " Like I'm on top of th'fuckin' world, chump. " he drawled, shooting the other a crooked grin, holding up a finger before--

And just as King landed, staring down at the two, Michael had turned to empty his stomach. It was safe to say, the Togekiss looked less than pleased with EITHER two of them and one could even say he was ROLLING his eyes before settling purple hues upon Tarou. Almost as if accusing him for the current state his friend was in.

Tarou quickly removed his hoodie and draped it along Michael's shoulders, revealing a ratty black wifebeater on underneath. Even though his guns were out, now a sure sign of danger to those who wanted to tussle, he was willing to take the risk for his bro. He was exposed, not to the elements, but to the ire of a scornful birdie.

"Hey Kingie-King-King," he cooed, voice sweet as honey, reaching an arm out to the pet the Togekiss, unsuccessfully. He retreated his hand, grinning at the Pokemon sheepishly. "Listen, I don't know who could have done this, but your daddy?" Golden eyes glanced at the pile of vomit next to the two of them, then back to King. "He's real fucked up." As a sign of peace and good fortune, Tarou gently stroked Michael's back, soothing words as he upheaved the majority of his suicide-drink, and possibly anything still settling in his tummy from before their hangout. Once the flow of vile and putrid sick finished splattering out of his friend, Tarou returned his attention to their trusty steed.

"I know you know how much I love him, and you know I know how much you love him, so let's call it a truce, alright? No pecking me, no Aura Spheres, and we get your daddy to crash at my place. Sound good? 'Member how to get to my place from here?" Here he was, the height of his career, rationalizing with a dumb bird.

There was a clicking sound as King gazed down at Tarou, narrowing his eyes for a second before finally leaning in close, head tilted to PEER into the other's soul, so to say. He was many things, but none of them included stupid. And he was well aware of the shenanigans these two often got into. There was a warning CLICK that came from the Togekiss, eyes narrowing even more so, seemingly ready to give Tarou a NEW hole. But then, deciding against it he moved away, eyes raised to the sky as Gremlin popped out of the shadow in the exact spot where Mike had emptied his stomach ( save to say the sick suddenly was gone ).

Gremlin, have I mentioned before that you are disgusting?

Plento o' times birdbones, but ya tell that to the next person who pisses me off, sweetheart.

Chittering she patted Tarou on the head a few times, giving King a cheshire grin as Michael opted on lifting a hand. "M 'okay... " he feebly uttered out. " Better out than in... " he groaned before making a face. " M'regrettin' everythin'... "

A soft clicking noise before King finally conceded defeat, lowering his body to the ground so Tarou could lift the other on his back. There was no way he would fly with that idiot on his back now. But... He would waddle along with the idiot.

With his newly adorned Gengar-hat, Tarou stood up to his feet. Somehow, his plan was working, pissed off bird and all. He stuck his tongue out at King, glad that he would stop angrily grinding his beak, even if it was just for the short trip.

"I always have a wild time at this bar," Tarou confessed, feeling an urge to divulge something. He absentmindedly gripped one of King's feathers between finger and thumb, slowly stroking it along its veins. "We have a pretty bittersweet history. I've had a lot of fun, and a lot of sad stuff happen here, but it's always a story worth telling." He seemed to be struggling to keep pace with the Togekiss, trotting along with gargantuan raptor talons.

The purple-haired man inhaled deeply into his cigarette, feeling his lungs expand. This habit was one of the many things likely killing him, but the sensation of something other than air expanding in his lungs always made him feel alive. Smoke emanated from his nostrils like a Charizard, then he began blowing rings of smoke up to Gremlin to play with. "This bar is where I got the scar on my face, it's where I got into my first bar fight, it's where I met..." It's where he met her. His blood ran cold, and it felt as if a chain wrapped its way around his heart, squeezing an overwhelmingly large beat out of his chet.

"... Mikey, buddy, did I ever tell you how I got this scar?" He pointed to the Delcatty-scratch along his eyebrow. "I feel like you'd love that story."

Gremlin INSISTED she remained hanging from the other's head, arms wrapped snugly around the other's head, eyes half-closed and pleased chittering being heard , chin rested to his purple-hued hair. She knew even though King could be a GRUMP, he still cared in his own way. Beside that. Yo, yo. You two had fun. Good on you. I'm so proud. she chittered, patting Tarou's head twice before sticking out a long tongue toward the birdy boi as Michael was hauled onto him.

A light thrilling sound was heard as Tarou started talking, purple hue fixing upon the male aside him just as the one on his back shifted a bit and turned his head to gaze at the image of his friend too. " Mmmm... Zhat so, buddy boy...? I know that feel... S'good feel, innit? Or well no.. Not always. Bittersweet. Ups and downs, huh? " he sighed, closing his eyes. Oh, he knew that feeling so well... Kalos. Wild, wild time. Johto too. His birthplace even more so but-- " Don' be so mad, King. Loosen y'pace. I wanna chaaaat. " he whined, causing the Togekiss to give a clicking noise before finally slowing down a bit.

From the corner of his eye did he see Gremlin happily squealing as she clambered up to properly sit upon Tarou's shoulders, sharp claws swishing through the air to try and break the rings apart. " Huh... Izzat so, where y'got that scar? " he commented, giving the other a long look before squinting his eyes a bit. Had he ever told him the story of THAT scar? He didn't think so. Couldn't remember at the moment either. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't... Did he? It didn't matter, he'd just hear it again if he did ( he didn't think he did ).

" Non. Y'didn't. M'fuckin' offended, T-T. How could y'not tell me, man... Tell me mine and I'll tell y'yours-- Wait a minute... Vice versa... Other way around. Tell me yours, I'll tell ya mine. " he corrected himself, nose wrinkled.

“Long story short?” A shit-eating grin flashed on his face, patting Michael’s head. Buckle the fuck up, my dear friend, he thought. “I kinda dig crazy chicks.”

“So like, this is years ago, way before we met. I think I was like, mmh, 22. I found myself recently single, ‘cause--” … No, he couldn’t quite drop that bomb on Michael just yet. At least, not without a few more drinks in him. He’d known Michael for years at this point, but he still hadn’t told anyone. He couldn’t even think her name, let alone say it. “--’cause, like, reasons, so I’m all depressed and shit, and I’m like, yo, hey, why not go to Tequila Talonflame and just get fucking smashed. And like, I meet this cute chick, right? Real hottie, seemed nice, and she’s super interested in me even though I’m like, crying and shit.”

“She took me home where things… escalated, and suddenly, we’re naked in bed doing the horizontal tango. I’m fucked up, I’m fucking gone, dude. Like, worse than you right now, dude--uh, no offense. But whiskey dick couldn’t beat out the sadness, ‘cause the way I was feeling, I had to get the poison out of me somehow.”

Getting the poison out was a favorite past-time of Tarou’s. Anything that made him forget who he was--even for a second--was considered getting the poison out. Anything dangerous, risky, anything for that rush of euphoria. Before he had joined Team Monochrome, he was on a nigh-unstoppable bender for a good time. He had curbed much of his drinking and outright stopped most of his drug habits upon his path to becoming an Admin, but his standard of what doing something “in moderation” meant differed from the average individual.

“So like, I’m fucked up, maybe a week out of a long-term relationship, I literally met this chick an hour ago, and I fuck up. Moaned the wrong name in bed. Didn’t even waste a second, she just cracked my head into the nightstand next to us. I felt that shit in my teeth, she hit me so hard., Then she flipped me onto my back and kept fucking going like nothing had happened. When I realized there was blood running down my face, I was like, hey lady? Do you wanna fuckin’ ruin your sheets or something? I tried to get up, and she shoved me back down, grabbed me by the throat and told me, ‘let’s make a fucking mess, baby.’”

Tarou lifted his cigarette to his lips, taking a shallow puff, his eyes transfixed somewhere else, grinning like a fool. He hovered the filter at his mouth, absentmindedly nibbling and tonguing at it before coming back down to Earth. “... Bitch fucked the soul out of my dick. And now, I got this cute little souvenir for it.” He looked up at Gremlin’s cheshire grin, seemingly matching it in intensity, then looked at Michael.

“Alright, you’re up to bat. I didn’t know you had any scars. Maybe ‘cause you never take your shirt off around me. We could fix that when we get back to my place. Play a little doctor, where you show me yours, I show you mine,” he teased.

A snort was given at the long story short, bringing his hand to the cigarette still between his lips and moving it away a bit to tip the ash of the tip before he took a drag from it. " Y'gotta tell me stuff I don't know, man. Cause that one... I was aware of. " he murmured, closing his eyes for a second. " Y'got that vibe, sorry mon nounours. "

And he remained quiet after that, simply listening to Tarou as he spoke, Gremlin patting the purple-haired's man rhymntically with a huge grin to her face, as ever. He was aware of the way they other had cut himself short, but in his current state it slipped his mind, he didn't prod on it. Reasons, depressed and shit, okay. He got that. And then Tequila Talonflame. Cute girl. Totally smashed. Crying and shit. Sight for sore eyes probably and-- A low hum was giving when the other mentioned he had been way gone, more gone than he currently was. " M'not gone... M'not gone yet. M'just right here, fucker. " he murmured, opening an eye.

Well then, mentioning the wrong name moaned did cause a grin to curl around his lips for a second before he snorted. " S'all good. Shit happens. Y'sure y'not a maso..so...maso... " he pondered, trying to find the correct wording before shrugging it off. " Masochiste. "

He was pretty sure if his head got banged-- Then again, the other said he had been totally out of it. " Th'soul sucked out.. Fucked out. " he cackled, shifting his weight a bit and patting King's neck, wheezing with laughter. "...D... D'ya hear that? AHAHAHA.. ahaha... haha-- " he ended up coughing into the feathered neck, undoubtedly b u t-- " F-fuck Tarou. Th'fuckin' things y'get yerself inta.. " he groaned out as Gremlin let out a cackle of her own and smooched the other's forehead, smooshing his cheeks together with her hands. " Y'never ask me, ya dingus. " he drawled in turn, putting the cigarette between his mouth and shrugging off his coat, ready to fucking strip himself on King's back to point at his most prominent scarring. A huge burn scar on his side.

Seeing the burn marks on Michael's side made Tarou wince in a twinge of sympathy pain, sucking air through his teeth. Carefully, he brought his hand to Michael's old wound, gently tracing his palm against it. Somehow, it felt oddly warm to the touch, though that could have just been his pal's amazing circulation at work. "God damn, this thing goes on forever. Shit looks like it still hurts."

Hesitantly, Tarou pushed more of Michael's shirt up and away, seeing the very edges of his tattoo peeking out from underneath the fabric. Tarou felt his heart sink and a tingle on the back of his neck. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the linework depicted, but the style of it was something he hadn't seen in ages. Something about the style seemed Kalosian to him, but... Wasn't Michael from...? Was it a gang tattoo...? Michael didn't seem to be the kind of person who ran that lifestyle. He figured the free-running was a hobby, not a means of survival, but his instinct clued him in otherwise.

The picture had become much clearer. A gang tattoo, various scars revealing themselves on Michael's torso the longer he stared, always talking in a way that he revealed little about who he truly was... The two of them shared a lot more in common than he'd previously thought. He felt his throat becoming tight. If they had that much in common, then maybe... Maybe, he also...

"So... How'd ya get it?" The man's voice had lost almost all the whimsey of earlier.

A snort was given, flinching just a tad bit at the touch to the burn, nose wrinkling. " Careful, 'm damaged goods. Handle me with sens'tivity, T-T. " he pouted toward the other, obviously trying to joke. Beside that, Tarou's hand had been cold to the touch. " 'nyways, this one? S'a fuckin' sucker. Got it JUST before I fuckin' fled Kalos. Took some down with me tho. " he hummed, peering down for a second. He knew it was rather huge... To be honest he had been near delirious when he had received it. The only reason he got out was because of Thaumas back then. Thaumas and King. A burn that almost had his whole side. But hey, it could've been worse...

" Took a flamethrower to th'face. " he snickered. " Well.. To the side... I dodged in time... Thank fuck for parkour, huh? " he commented before tilting his head when fingers pulled the shirt up more, causing King to give a clicking noise, looking back once to see what the hell those two were up to now-- Oh god, great.

" I uh... Back then... " he trailed off for a second, a light scoff and a bitter grin touching at his lips. That tattoo was an ever reminder of what he once had been perhaps. But also a punishment in its own. And the scars that adorned his body. Whilst some were his own fault, there were enough he had received from others.

" M'not from Johto, y'know... I mean, I hang 'bout here. Got nowhere else t'go. But I know where t'go for the best sleepin' spots. " he spoke, scritching Gremlin under the chin ( once he managed to find her chin ) and earning a happy chittering sound of the Gengar. " Kalos had some good times. Some bad... Y'see... Me an' my ol' shit. He uh. He ran a gang. Wasn' a bad person persay but y'know how it goes when heads butt... " A bullet to the head, yeah.

" ... I wanted t'get back at them. Might've gone a bit overboard... Might've done some shit... But one against many, well. The end result is clear. " he spoke, flopping back against King's feathered neck. " I got a goodbye souvenir. A last fuck you, I suppose... Th'gang I was part of. It don't exist anymore... "

It was clear that Michael had experience dodging a lot of things. Fists, uncomfortable topics, and now Flamethrowers. Tarou looked up and realized that their little crew had managed to make it home safely, by some miracle. He felt a wave of relief, knowing that if they got into any darker subjects on the street, they'd be a spectacle. If they were going to cry, they were going to do it in the privacy of Tarou's home goddammit.

“I'm gonna get you down. Just relax for me, let me put my arms around you. Relax for me, okay? I’m gonna take you down nice and slow…" With the utmost care, and perhaps a little more assistance from King than he’d like to admit, Tarou wrapped his arms around his friend. At first, he was a little unsure as to where he could even place his hands, not wanting to irritate old wounds with any unnecessary stretching or pinching. After an entire acrobatic routine, he lowered Michael off his bird and got him standing on the flat ground.

“Phew. You are such a mess right now. Even better, you’re my mess, and I got the pleasure of dealing with you. C’mon, let’s take care of you.” Tarou fumbled with the keys to his home, taking a moment to unlock the door before inviting the crew in. The front door swung open, and he waved everyone in, careful not to bump Gremlin as he stepped through the door frame.

“Get inside.”

The interior was incredibly plain, and minimalist would be quite the understatement. Beyond the mud room and connected powder room was a living room with only the bare necessities. A well-loved sofa, a coffee table on a rug, and a small end table with a lamp. At the far corner of the room by the window rest a grand piano, covered in a pale blue tablecloth and a vase. The bench seemed to have amassed a thick layer of dust. Not a single comfort could be found: no painting or photo on the walls, nor were there any blankets or throw pillows in sight. The only sign that a human being resided there was a small collection of half-drank cups, filled with various contents.

Instead of leading Michael to the sofa, however, he took things a step further, opening the door to his bedroom. Despite his clusterfuck of a personality, Tarou’s room was nearly immaculate. While one might use the words serene and spacious to describe it, he would personally use the words boring and empty. His bed faced the door, pale pink bed sheets crisply tucked in, surrounded by standard bedroom furnishings--still scarce, but significantly more than the living room. The only mess in sight seemed to be clutter on the nightstand--a half-drank mug of coffee, a scattering of various pills, several mysterious syringes, and a single picture frame, face-down--a sight that caused the purple-haired man to click his tongue in disgust at himself.

With King’s help, Tarou herded Michael to the foot of the bed, setting him down carefully, then Gremlin on the space between the two of them. He made sure his friend was as steady as possible before leaving the room briefly. For just a moment, he entered a connected en-suite bathroom, rifled through his medicine cabinet, then returned with several remedies. He held out his hand and presented the younger with a cocktail of antacids, prescription-grade painkillers, and anti-nausea medicine, alongside a plastic cup of water.

“Take this. Bathroom’s on the right. There’s a bath and a shower to clean yourself off if you get sick. Whatever you do, don’t look in the nightstand. And do not, under any circumstances, peek in the top dresser drawer. Think you can handle this by yourself--” He hooked a finger into Michael’s belt, “--or do I need to help you out?”

" Pfbt... yeah, b'careful with me. M'eggs. D'ya see? M'a bunch of dumb eggs. No offense King. " he assured the bird, who ruffled his feathers with a noise that sounded MUCH like a groan. Only a little while with the lot of them and the giant bird already seemed thoroughly done with their antics. Which in turn caused Gremlin to let out a high-pitched cackle, slapping her hand on Tarou's head a few times.

It took them a while to get Michael safely to the ground, King ended up helping eventually which quickened the process to be fair, but eventually they all stood and fuck the world still spun when so up high. " T-T tell th'ground to stop movin'. " he huffed out, arm resting around his friend's shoulders.

" Y'don't want this fuckin' mess, T-T. Get SOME standards. " he feebly joked, giving a small grin before moving inside the house after King had squeezed himself through and firmly planted himself somewhere in the middle of the room. Tarou received a grateful chitter from Gremlin when he passed through the opening of the door, plucking at his hair before peering around the place, a curious glint to her eyes.

Would he have been sober, he'd have some sense to kick out his boots ( right now he wasn't even sure if he was capable of doing such ). Atleast his jacket was already off, currently resting on King's back. That was one thing off. He didn't NEED to rid himself off the others, right? Spotting the couch, he had moved body toward it, only for Tarou to change the direction toward another room. " Wuzzat, mon nounours? Takin' me to your bed room already? Charmin'. " he cooed, a cheshire grin curling around his lips for a second. " Y'just had to ASK if y'wanted some. "

An amused noise left Gremlin when they entered the bedroom, watching as both King and Tarou helped michael upon the bed, who very unceremoniously flopped back. When Gremlin was put on the bed however, she gave a chitter before bounding toward the nightstand, grasping the photoframe and peeking it up a bit to peer underneath it, but just as quickly letting it go and disappearing seemingly under the bed for a second. She was ready to explore this new place.

King tilted his head, staring at the mess for a second before clicking toward Tarou as the other returned, narrowing his eyes a bit as if to say ' go on you're not TOO bad '. " Please tell me I don' have to down those all. " he whined, staring up at Tarou for a second before giving a sulk and forcing himself in a sitting position, sullenly taking what the other gave him without questioning what it was, downing it with the water afterward. Somewhere at the side came a noise that sounded much like naughty cackling and not a second later did Gremlin appeared from out of the nightstand, perking up her ears and grinning widely over at Tarou.

And finally she disappeared under the bed once more, seemingly content.

" Yes, T-T. I'll be a good boy. " he snickered, closing his eyes for a second before-- Oh... " Naughty. " he drawled, giving the other a crooked grin before making a face. " Y'can help me outta my clothes, if you want. "

Tarou watched as Gremlin stole a peek. His heart was racing, beating faster than he could handle, his throat growing tighter as his fingers shook. Although his head and heart knew what was happening, his body couldn’t cope, interpreting this rush of feelings as its usual vices. The darkness was encroaching upon him, the poison seeping into his veins. Looking into Michael’s icy blue eyes seemed to only make the grip on his heart pull tighter. His arm shot out, narrowly grabbing her by a hind leg, then dangled her before his eyes, burning with vindictive fury.

“Don’t. Touch that.”

Realizing just how sharply the word fell off his tongue, he rolled his shoulders back and sighed. He had to cool his jets, fast. He placed Gremlin back down on the bed, giving her ample room to scuttle away and enjoy her snooping--so long as it was anywhere else.

“Sorry… It’s, uh... Dirty needles. Bad for tiny Gengars.” Tarou chided. He shuffled over to the nightstand, capping his syringes. He gathered up everything of dubious quality, then let out a strained breath. It dawned on him that didn’t think this through. After having literally just told Michael not to look into his nightstand, he’d have to open it to put away his shameful indulgences. No matter how quickly he opened and closed the nightstand drawer, his bromodachi would get a glimpse of something unsavory. Gremlin had clearly already discovered something worthwhile.

He rolled open the drawer, revealing quite possibly the next portal to Narnia. Inside laid the usual suspects--more loose pills, more syringes, but also: a roll of duct tape, a pocket knife, a glasses case, tissues, a flashlight, a fleshlight, an unexpectedly large pastel violet dildo, at least three boxes of condoms--one normal box of crappy latex, as well as fancier boxes for the latex-sensitive--and just as many bottles and varieties of lube rolling around the bottom. As quickly as possible, he yeeted those motherfuckers to the back, then slammed the drawer shut, his cheeks burning a fiery rose color.

Thinking about what to say back Michael was a little strange. Was this a friends with benefits thing? Was it just a drunk bit of fun? His head spun as his heart ached. Hopefully, come the morning, Michael wouldn’t remember any of this. Their moment would be forgotten, as would all of this. “Dude, I’m not trying to fuck, I just know you can barely keep your head on straight. Belts are the worst when you’re sober, and I don’t want a dead Mikey on my floor because he accidentally choked himself out. Plus I… ...It’s … It’s been a while. I don’t do this sort of thing... here.”

The action came as a surprise undoubtedly, finding herself from racing about the room to snoop on everything, to being dangled upside down in the air with a Tarou who didn't seem too pleased with her. If he had worried about sounding too sharp around her, he shouldn't have. He honestly shouldn't have.

Because she had simply spread her arms, screeching happily and flailing about a bit. This was a FUN new game and Tarou seemed to play for-- Oh, never mind he was back to being Tarou. That was okay too. Chittering happily toward him, she patted his hand a couple of times before finally diving away once more, this time making her way out of the bedroom.

" M'sorry 'bout her. She's a sneak. Never quite got t'controllin' her. " huffed out the male, a small chuckle escaping him before he peered to the side for a second. " C'mon man... Y ou look like a fuckin' school girl with a secret dairy... Y'think m'gonna think any less of you for yer stuff..? " he questioned quietly, icy blues narrowing for a split second before he closed them with a smile.

Right.

" Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Jus'... Help me outta my stuff then. M'pretty sure m'not gonna... " he trailed off, holding up his leg for a second to mention the damn boots before flopping it back down. " M'glad there's more people lookin' after my health. Warms my heart. "

“Ah, dude don’t--don’t say it like that… You’re makin’ me feel...” Hearing the utterly dejected tone in his friend’s voice reached everything in him. This room conjured up too many feelings. Impulse after impulse rattled around in his skull, each idea followed by the words he’s drunk. Chaos blasted in his head on repeat. Stop. It’s wrong. He can’t. Don’t. He bit his lip, looking away from that piercing gaze. He couldn’t do this. Even if he had the balls, King was in the room, Gremlin was there, he had an audience.

… Fuck it.

Eagerly, Tarou leaned in for a soft peck on the lips. And another. ...One more, for good measure. He placed a hand against Michael’s stomach, half to steady himself, half to remind himself that he really was experiencing what was happening. Between kisses, a small chuckle snaked its way out of the purple-haired man’s throat. Typically, when people describe first kisses, they’re planned out--kisses between lovers who had both been waiting with baited breath, sweet lips glossed with fruity chapstick. Instead, as he worked more force into his kisses, he couldn’t help but smile and realize that Michael’s first kiss with him probably tasted horrible. Like a dirty alleyway, full of rich flavors like cigarette smoke, pungent alcohol, topped with hints of vomit--the true flavor of romance.

He forced himself to pull away before he did something he might regret, moving his attention to helping Michael flop out of his boots.

“...There. That the reaction you were lookin’ for...?”

" Nah, nah s'fine, T-T. S'no problem. M'not some sulkin' teenage girl with a-- " before he could finish that sentence, a small peck had already been given, causing an eyebrow to raise momentarily. To be honest, he hadn't expected the other to make a move after that. Even if it was something small like a simple kiss. And curse him for the chuckle that escaped him, he couldn't help himself. He could remember a lot of his kisses, but he was pretty sure none of them were anything like this.

When finally the other pulled away ( and somewhere behind the purple-haired was sound a clicking noise of disapproval ), Michael made a face. " Lighten up, King. Looook. T-T is a gentlebro. I'd trust him with m'drunk ass over others. " he muttered, vaguely waving a hand in the air and clumsily trying to help Tarou with removing his boots. However in the long run he proved to make it only worse with trying to help so he simply ended up flopped down on the bed, eyes closed.

" Mmmm, pretty sure I jus' gave y'the worst kiss ever, though. " he commented, wiggling out of his shirt before peering over at Tarou, a contemplative look on his face for just a second.

" ... Hey... Hey buddy bro... Bro of mine... Are you... "

There was a hesitant silence as he tried to find the right words, somewhere in the back hearing the familiar chitter of Gremlin and seeing King making himself comfortable on the ground. Was it OKAY to talk of this kind of thing? But who else could he talk to. Not Augustin's sister. Not her daughters. Not a lot of people in Monochrome, he didn't know how far he could trust them. But Tarou?

" ... Are y'scared...? Y'know.. For uh... Th'end.. What's t'come after this... I mean... What if we fuck up and-- I don't wanna die, man... "

...A swing and a miss. He felt disgust--Michael was his best friend, he shouldn’t have these sorts of behaviors him, he shouldn’t entertain them, especially when the guy was drunk, yet… Part of him felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in quite some time. Knowing, deep down, that numskull cared about him enough to tolerate it… “Not the worst kiss I’ve ever had,” he stated. ...Lied.

Tarou remained focused on the task at hand, unbuckling Michael’s belt and slipping it out of his waistband. Putting his boots and belt along the floor, he mulled everything over in his head, but the buzz from earlier had gone away. It was still in his system, but these kinds of talks were always sobering for him. He had to keep his brain on track, and he could do that forever... Or, at least long as King shot him a death glare. “God, I don’t even know what to say to that,” he muttered.

“I guess I… I wish … “ The two of them were on borrowed time at this point. There was a very strong possibility that one of them may not wake up in the morning, and they couldn’t do much about it. Lorelei, Noir and Artemis had figured out a general estimate for how long everyone had left, but he knew that nobody actually wanted to hear their presumed date-of-death. At least in Tarou’s case, he lived life a lot more readily when he figured each day was going to be his last.

Although his words were hopeful, the reality of his statement stung, perhaps a bit too much. “Let’s just say, if this were serious, I wished I’d done that years ago. Wasted a lot less of our time.” There was a small laugh in his voice, but it was nihilistic at best.

Tarou hopped up onto the mattress, wrapping himself around Michael. He had done this so many times before with so many others, but this was the first time it made his heart pound. Slowly, he began running his hands along the dark-haired boy’s body, fingertips gliding across the slopes of his sides. If this was something that would be overwritten, he wanted to milk this moment of every last drop. Keeping it all together would be a struggle, but that was okay. It was okay to be vulnerable.

“Sometimes I think about it. Probably more often than I should. I think about if it’d be better if… Y’know.” Tarou shut his eyes, desperately trying to avoid Michael’s chilling gaze, and even more anxiously trying to forget the knife in his drawer. Those glacial eyes seemed to compel him to bare his soul to the world every time they connected with his. “I’m just one scumbag out of a million: replaceable. Other than maybe you, Lyca, and my team... I don’t have anyone who would miss me.”

“ Liar. “ came the grunted reply, a crooked grin shot toward the other. How long was it now that they had known each other? Math was h a r d and to be fair he had recalled meeting him at a time in his life when everything was shit and he wasn’t… Quite… well… It was fair to say that he wouldn’t even be laying here, drunk off his ass, were it not for the idiot with him. Because an idiot he might be, but atleast he was HIS idiot… Michael had been SHIT at making friends, too focused on other crap to allow a committed relationship OR a friendship. Until he had met Tarou.

“ Thanks, man. Lifesaver. Can y’ imagine my dum’ass chokin’ myself in m’ sleep? What a way t’go. “ he snorted out, making a face before peering over at King, who started preening his feathers. Fucking diva. His eyes fell back to his friend when the other started speaking, brows knitting for a moment. He knew in a sense he was SCARED for the inevitable… But he didn’t share it with others. Not sober, atleast. Couldn’t afford himself that weakness, he felt most of the time… But he was t i r e d and he WAS scared.

And he hated it.

The dark-haired welcomed the arms wrapped around him. Even though it felt so foreign to him at first, more used to the comfort of his own damn Pokemon rather than those of a human being. But he allowed himself to melt into eventually, chest heaving once. He had the damn feather for a longer time than Tarou did, atleast that much he had found out…. By rights, he probably shouldn’t even BE here anymore. But he kept clinging on, like a damn parasite.

There was a moment of silence as Tarou practically opened his soul to the other, causing him to gnaw on the inside of his cheek for a second. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, right? “ I tried it once. “ he finally allowed himself to say, voice small. It wasn’t a pretty memory. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments either. Atleast King had enough sense to stop it. “ I wassa coward, tho… Tsk… Tried to have someone else do the dirty job… ‘ cause I thought, y’know… why not give’m what they want I just was-- “ he cut himself off, a small laugh.

“ I met your dum’ ass not much later. “

A hand rose up, palm resting to the other’s cheek for a second before he finally narrowed his eyes and PULLED the other’s cheek once. “ Fuck you, man. Yer … yet not replaceable an’ I’ll DECK the first person who claims y’ are. “

“If we’re counting attempts, I’m…” Tarou’s hand absentmindedly traced the large vertical scar that cleaved its way into his chest. That mark was probably the only accidental mark on his body--and, of course, his eyebrow, but who’s counting. He winced as he recalled times where he purposely missed veins when shooting up, just to feel something, even if it was so painful he’d rather die. Times when he swallowed as many pills as he could stomach and chased it with a big gulp of beer, hoping that when the sun rose, he wouldn’t. Times where he’d, at his lowest, try to mug someone in hopes they would fight back just a little too hard. What even was an attempt anymore? Any time he lived dangerously? Any time he took a risk, not caring about the outcome? Did that time he had an admittedly less-than-sober fantasy involving Pyrrhus count?

“... I’m there with ya.”

“...It’s like you’re screaming, and no one can hear. You almost feel ashamed, that someone could be that important. That without them, you feel like nothing. Like no one will ever understand how much it hurts. You feel hopeless, like nothing can save you. And when it’s over, and it’s gone, you almost wish you could have all the bad back, just so you could have even a little of the good.” Tarou opened his eyes, and for a moment, he felt at peace with himself. He hadn’t told these feelings anyone--at least, not another human. Karst and Menardi had been the victims of many late-night vent sessions before. God had they been victims.

The silence was haunting. His words hung in the air like a dense fog. He pulled Michael in tighter, squeezing him and not wanting to let go, nestling his head atop curly black hair. The waves tickled his chin ever so slightly, but it wasn’t a bad tickle. “But… We’re brothers. We ride together, we die together. Hopefully not literally, but--I mean, if the universe wants to take the both of us out at the same time, we’ll give ‘em hell, am I right? If we’re gonna fall, we’re gonna show everyone how you fall with style.”

“ Then yer jus’ as fucked up as me, huh? We’re both jus’.... Extremely fucked up. “ he laughed softly before finally wrapping his arm around the other, the background noise of Gremlin’s snooping about and happy little chitters almost SOOTHING in a sense. They were still alive. Against all rights. Maybe just to spite the fucking fire bird that had put them in this spot to begin with. For what reason, what right? They had failed, why did that have to include losing their life over it too? Why couldn’t they just fail and naturally lose their life? It was fucked up… A lot of things were fucked up. He didn’t ask for any of this shit. He got it, he got it he was a weakling and a coward and he couldn’t even-- FUCK.

The other’s words CARVED wounds in a heart he wished he no longer had. A heart he had thought he lost all those years back to begin with. But it was still beating stubbornly, even when he wished it didn’t. Even when he BEGGED it to just stop beating so he could be DONE with all of it. So he could be reunited with those lost to him, every day a day closer to having to realize that he COULDN’T make it right. He couldn’t bring them back. No matter how much research he had done. No matter how many times he had dirtied his hands.

And he was afraid of the day he had to admit it aloud. Afraid of what it would do to him. What HE would do to himself.

A muffled noise managed to break through when he got brought in closer, shoulders hunching up once, trying to STOP the dam that had threatened to overflow to begin with. But this had been his own fault, hadn’t it? Where he was in life. The things he had done. It was all on him, wasn’t it? He couldn’t blame anyone else for it and--- DAMN it.

Clinging to the other as if he FEARED fading away the second he would let go, he allowed the tears to fall, face hidden away from the world to see. TRYING to remain quiet, though his body betrayed him. As always it did. Ride together, die together.

“ If we gotta… If we gotta fall. “ he finally managed to sob out. “ Then I’m honored an’ grateful it had t’ be with YOU at my side, man. But… “ he continued, gripping the other tightly. “ I p r o m i s e you that I’ll do everything in m’ power to save you. “

Because he didn’t think he could handle losing one more person.

Hearing the slight squeak escape from Michael's lips, Tarou's eyebrows furrowed. He was frustrated with himself for letting it get to that point, but this was soming coming for a long time--for the both of them. He felt the urge to cry slam against his face like a brick wall, but he couldn't allow it. Michael had been his rock many times before, and now it was his turn to return the favor. He dug his fingernails into his palm as hard as he could, trying to distract himself from the pain in his heart.

"Shh, shh, it's okay... Hey, I got'cha, I'm here, just... Just let it all out." The future looked bleaker than ever for the two, and not knowing how it would end was part of it. By some miracle, Tarou hoped that things would turn out alright. Maybe one day, Ho-oh would decide to man the fuck up and fix the shit it started. Maybe he'd wake up and he could enjoy a moment of laughter without collapsing to the ground in a coughing fit. He hoped for a silver lining for so long, but if there even was one, it was tarnished, and he was undeserving nonetheless.

"No one can say we didn't try."

He had to dig himself out of this hole somehow.

“Coffee’s at 9:30. Tomorrow, we’ll eat some high-octane crap to fight off our hangovers. Whatever you want, I’ll make it. I can't guarantee it will be good, but I'll make it." He wiped tears away from his friend's cheeks, not ever wanting to see them sully his face ever again.

"I’ll stay here until you fall asleep… I promise. Try to get some rest.” He continued stroking Michael until he heard his gentle breaths become deeper, longer, heavier. Surefire signs he was on the verge of sleep--if he wasn’t already passed out. He paused, biting his lip to hold back his comment, but he felt himself unable to resist. He hovered his lips a hair’s width away from Michael’s ear and whispered.

“...And if you really, really want to do that kind of thing with me, I’ll let you be the judge. You can find me out on the couch. Take whatever you need out from the nightstand, in that case. ...But I think you’ll have to fight with bird-brain over there before he lets any of that happen.”

For how long though? For how long would the other have him? How long until it was decided he had ran its course. There were a million things he still wanted to do. Still needed to do. And if he went BEFORE Tarou, what would happen to his friend then? What would happen to the dumbass that managed to make him cackle in delight again, that managed to bring more of the HUMAN back then the MESS he had made of himself. And in turn, how long could HE hold on if it was the other who left before he did? He knew his time was short, but he hadn’t the fucking guts to figure out how short. Even when they had been told they could estimate just how long they had left. Who the fuck wanted to know the ending of their story, right?

What kind of PEACE would it bring him, knowing he had failed each and everyone he had cared for. What would happen with all the ‘mon in his care? King and him had been a team for so long he couldn’t imagine what would happen to the giant bird.

"No one can say we didn't try."

And God, they had tried, hadn’t they? They had… They had. God atleast they had done that, despite all the shit that had been thrown at them. They had tried. And it wasn’t much, but it was all they had. A light sniff was given, squeezing his eyes tightly shut when he felt hands wipe away the tears that had slipped past his defense. The comfort of the other’s presence e n o u g h for now. The warmth of his hand rubbing soothingly over his back lulling him into a world of dreams, an escape of the reality they faced each day, if only for a few hours. On the verge of the waking and the dreaming, words whispered, there was a faint twitch of his lips, words mumbled in a language foreign to the other as sleep swept him off.

Gremlin’s head popped up, arms resting on the end of the bed as she gave a curious chitter in Tarou’s direction, holding up a bag of questionable contents.

Before fucking downing it in front of his eyes, earning a disapproving click from the giant bird.

Tarou looked up at Gremlin, letting out a small chuckle. And he thought his own Gengar was weird. She was going to keep doing her thing whether or not she tried to stop her or not, but he was going to do his best, dammit. “C’mere, you,” he whispered, yanking Gremlin up by her scruff, letting her keep the baggie of an unnamed white powder. He shared a long look with King and peeled himself away from his Trainer, inviting the Togekiss to take his place instead.

“Better start callin’ me Nyquil, ‘cause I just put his ass to sleep, baby.” His teasing was met with the most despondent and unenthusiastic stare from this feathered fuckface. “Wake me up if anything happens with him, ‘kay bud?” He gave the Togekiss a pat on the back, leaning his head into soft downy feathers. King could be a bastard, but he was always right about it. Quietly, he whispered his goodnights and made his way back to the living room, shutting the door behind him. With a wind-up, Tarou whipped Gremlin onto the couch, falling into an indent that seemed to be made for him soon after.

“Da̪̩͞d͢ͅị̵̤y ̦̙̥O̕k̙̫̹i̲̰͠e̮̠͜.̧͖̣.̞̭̗.̢͇͖?̢̥̱”

A small high-pitched voice rung in the back of his head, distorted and followed by what seemed to be the whispers of the damned. Menardi bubbled into appearance on Tarou’s chest, seemingly crawling out of his ribcage before curling up on his belly, wiggling her stumpy tail. Every time she spoke came as a little surprise to him, she wasn’t really one for words--plus, y’know, sounding like good ole Beelzebub didn’t exactly help.

“Huh...? Y-yeah… Yeah, daddy’s okay.” He placed a hand on the top of his Gengar’s head, tousling her ears underneath his palm. Part of him wanted to get up and go to his liquor cabinet and drink ‘til the Miltank came home, erasing tonight from existence. Part of him wanted to do whatever he could to desperately cling to this memory.

“M͔̞y͙e̲̠͘k͔̩͡i͚͉͈y̳͖͜ ̤͖̱s̤̖̮p̛͓̪e̗̟̪s̜̱͠h̜̱͜u̼̪l͇͉͞.͎̟̖.͇̝̕?̨̼̱”

Tarou nodded. Michael was special. He was an important member of Team Monochrome, but also an important part of the man’s life. He wasn’t quite sure how the two had come to be so close, but he was thankful for it.

“M̯̥y̸̙̖ḙ̪͔k̳͚è̺͍ỵ̳̳ ̘̭l̠͎i͎̲ͅk̼̭̠e̢̟̫ ̷M̹͇̮o̮͓̤m̪̗̪-̧̞͕ma̫͎̲h͏̹.̵̥͇.̱̪̕.̬̪ͅ?̨̖͈”

Tarou rolled onto his side, clutching his two favorite ghosts tightly.

“Maybe…” With that admission, the tears began to flow freely, yet radiant smile found its way onto the man’s face. As he got comfortable, Menardi also seemed satisfied with his answer, positioning herself to groom Gremlin’s spiky hide.

Tonight would be the first night in a long time that he slept soundly.

A squeak was given when she was yanked up by the scruff, clutching to the bag and sticking out her tongue for a second before finally letting herself swish from side to side a bit, letting out a thrilling sound which sounded more like it belonged in a horror story than in the current room to be fair. She did peek a curious eye at her knocked out cold trainer ( or more so the person she decided to stick around since he never officially caught her ), snickering when a mumbled word was given when Tarou removed himself from his side.

The gigantic bird shifted, finally moving up to his talons and letting out a disapproving clicking noise at the pun that was shot at him, rolling his eyes so far back in his had he thought his eyes would roll out. Soon after however, there was a light trilling sound given as Tarou leaned onto his feathers, causing his head to turn for a second before an almost gentle bump of the head was given against the other’s.

As Tarou left the bedroom, Gremlin happily chittered when her body hit the couch, faded into it for a second before she popped back up just as Tarou flopped down himself too. Letting out a delighted little chitter, she finally settled herself upon her favourite spot ( on top or at the top of Tarou’s head ). When Menardi popped up, she was wise to remain quiet, only giving a light cooing sound toward the smaller gengar once, tail swishing.

Until she eventually jumped next to Menardi, released a chitter that could’ve been mistaken as a death sound ( but actually was her simply expressing her love for the other in her own way ), and finally snuggled in close with both of them, a sound akin to purring being released as Menardi started to groom her hide.

Ignoring the sounds that came from the bedroom for a little while after. Protests and screeching until silence fell upon the house once more.

And it wouldn’t be broken until a couple of hours later when Tarou would no longer find himself alone with two ghosts.

Tarou awoke with a sudden start, hearing the noise of the bedroom door shut, squeezing the everloving bejeezus out of his lovable oafs. So much for sleeping soundly. With a half-inhale-half-snort, he pulled his phone out of his front pocket, successfully blinding himself with the screen. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw that it was not time to wake up and smell the coffee. Gross. Instead, it seemed to be much closer to go-the-fuck-to-sleep-o’clock. Ugh. He smooshed his palms into his face, rubbing his eyes until he was seeing spots, then unceremoniously dragged them off.

Half-lidded eyes slowly panned the room. There was something bewitching about that hour of night, where the moonlight crept into the windows and illuminated everything in a full, pale blue light, giving life to every shadow. However, in his impeccable decor, there was a new shape that wasn’t normally there, just hiding in the corner of his vision.

“Heyyy kitten,” he greeted softly. His voice was groggy, low and rumbling, a shining example of a morning voice. It took him a few moments before he realized that the shadow in the dark wasn’t this kitten, per se, but Michael. “...Mmffuck, Mikey-boy. Sorry, m’bad. Wha’s up… Did’ja miss me?” He shuffled on the couch until he was upright, patting the space next to him for his friend to sit down.

“Somethin’ happen...? Need me t’ come back ‘n cuddle s’more?”

Gremlin gave a most offended sound when she so suddenly was squeezed as if life itself no longer was allowed in her grasp, wrinkling her nose, she peeked up for a second, chittering toward Tarou before perking up her ears and finally hoisting Menardi into her grubby hands. As if to say, MINE NOW. Her cheek pressed to Tarou’s sleep-addled face once before she finally submerged into the shadows, chittering happily.

Michael had to admit, there were days he had felt BETTER than this, but it wasn’t the complete WORST either. Still with that bit of a high, but not enough to say he was drunk beyond measure ( honestly the only reason King had let him go when he had woken up again ). As much as the other looked after him, he also knew that his friend was a grown man with hopefully enough brain to make grown ass decisions.

Most of the times…

K i t t e n… It caused lips to twitch for a second, peering at Gremlin as she disappeared into the shadows with Menardi, raising an eyebrow once before finally clearing his throat. There ya go… Mikey-boy. He didn’t speak a word though, even at the questions shot his way. What could he say? Yeah, yeah he had missed the other. As much as he loved sleeping with his Pokemon…

An eyebrow raised as he moved closer to the other, finally planting himself firmly upon the other’s lap, ignoring the place patted aside Tarou and instead moving in for the kill straight away. Few hours ago had been a MESS. But-- He hadn’t quite forgotten. “ Which fool would ever say no to cuddles, huh? “ he simply purred out, one hand disappearing in that mop of purple hair before he pressed his lips upon the other, free hand sneaking to the back of his neck and bringing him in closer.

“ Just wanted t’say thank you, T-T. “ he finally murmured against the other’s lips. “ For a lot of things. “

“Ugh. Stupid fuckin’... squeaky toy, go get yer own best friend,” he jeered at Gremlin, watching her claim Menardi like some sort of prize. First she touched his shit, then she rifled through his stash, and now she is currently stealing his baby. Tarou prayed for the day that either he or Michael could trap this menace within the confines of a Pokeball. Once this slimy mess got what was coming to her, maybe she’d learn to settle down.

As Michael got closer, the purple haired man noticed he was getting rather close when-- ...Oh. Oh. Tarou couldn’t help but smile at Michael’s bold move. He had nearly completely forgotten about his offer from earlier in the evening. But… after the more-than-welcome smooch, he came to a conclusion. He had come in empty handed. Hmm. Tarou realized he must not have rattled through the nightstand, nor gone exploring in his capricious cavern of a top dresser drawer. Either Michael was a stupid dude in desperate need of a guiding hand, a vanilla-as-fuck individual, or, the dirtiest word of all, a virgin.

...Or, apparently, just dropping by to thank him. He leaned into Michael’s grip, resting his head against his chest, a lot more tired than he’d anticipated. He sat there motionless for a while, appreciating steady breaths and a hypnotic heartbeat. Th-thump, th-thump… Humming just under his breath, Tarou fumbled his hands through Mike’s hair, moving and twirling black locks between his fingers, softly dragging his nails along his scalp in tiny circles.

“Hah, no need t’ thank me… ‘s what ‘m here for. Anythin’ y’need, I’m yer guy.” Tarou leaned his head back, breathing in every inch of his cuddlebug, admiring scars woven into flesh like a fine tapestry. Most fascinating of all was the burn scar climbing up Michael’s side, the silvered skin glistening in the low light. “...Y’kinda look like a Purrloin curled up in my lap like this... I bet’cha’d be purring if you could.” He let out a loud yawn, drowsiness still weighing him down heavily.

Gremlin had merely responded with a sound like death ( Tarou would probably have his neighbours at his door tomorrow, asking if everything was fine ), before she submerged into the shadows with her girl pal. Fuck those other two for now, all she needed was the tiny little Gengar clutched into her grasp. Tarou could share if SHE had to share Michael too!

A faint smirk curled around Michael's lips when he felt the other's face connect with his chest, own fingers lightly moving through purple locks as he thought. He cared for Tarou. More than he had cared for many others. Almost as much as-- A swallow before he rested his cheek to the mop of purple hair, closing his eyes for a second and letting out a content sigh at the fingers that found its way into dark locks. The red had completely faded from it, aside from the tips. His days of red-headedness were done with, but the tips he would probably end up keeping.

" Anything, huh? " he spoke, giving a cheshire grin before laughing at the mention of him looking like a Purrloin. " Well then, I don't think I'm QUITE that purple. Most would call me a Zorua. " he joked before bringing the other's chin up a bit, letting their noses touch. " Who's to say I CAN'T purr, huh? " he drawled, stealing another kiss. " I happen to be a great purrer. " he added, moving his fingers over the scruff on Tarou's chin, a sound akin to a purr slowly filling the room and an eyebrow raising upward, looking absolutely SMUG with himself.

" Guess I AM a bit of a kitten. " he added in a joking manner before moving fingertips through the other's hair. " You know, I did overweigh your offer. But... Your words were kinda contradicting, T-T. Don't look in the drawer, then suddenly do look in the drawer? Man, way to confuse a poor alcohol-addled mind. " he hummed softly before licking his lips once. " I do wanna take you up on the offer, If YOU want to. I mean, I want to but-- If you also want to. "

“Hey we don’t--we’re not gonna… I-I mean, not like, unless you want to, but… N-not that I don’t want to, but like, I don’t want to if you don’t want to…? Um, since we’re… Y’know…” Tarou was almost more embarrassed over how nervous he was than the fact that he was about to strip naked in front of the man he was just tonguing a moment ago. He had always been able to effortlessly flirt with anyone, shamelessly so, but now, the idea of being smooth was so absolutely impossible. He winded down with a chuckle, gripping Michael's hair and pulling him in for another peck.

"... Alright. I'm warning you now, it's been a while." Tarou rolled his wifebeater off his body and flung it to the floor without a care in the world, then unbuckled his belt and slipped it away with a fluid motion. He went to toss it aside as well, then took a moment to ponder, instead setting it down on the coffee table within reach. "We'll go slow, we figure eachother out... And if it's disappointing, consider this a practice session. Now, c'mere you," he said, pulling his partner down on top of him.

For the first time in many years, physically connecting with someone else wasn't a mind-numbing task done out of frustration and used as a method of self-harm. For the first time in many years, his soul was a part of the process, as were smiles, laughter, and good reactions to bumbling mistakes. For the first time in many years, Tarou was complete. --

"Ah, shit," Tarou grumbled, the smell of burning invading his nostrils once more. "Gremlin, you're on fuckin' timer duty! I feel like you're doing this on purpose now." With a rap on her forehead, the purple-haired man encouraged his rude guest to open wide as he poured the contents of his pan down her gullet. This was now the final time he had burned the pancakes he was making for his sleeping beauty in the other room, completely out of batter. Menardi, very wise, but incredibly uncoordinated, was already on toast duty, attempting to spread various nut butters onto the crumbly surface. She added a garnish of a single Oran berry on the far corner of her masterpiece, plating it successfully.

“King, Kingie-king-king,” Tarou snapped his fingers to get the bird’s attention away from a bowl of cereal he had generously poured for it, “do you know how Mike takes his coffee? Or is he a tea drinker?” When King seemingly decided that his meal was more important than an idiot in his trainer's underwear trying to win brownie points, he pinched his eyebrows and let out a groan.

He grabbed the plate of toast that Menardi had laid out, not giving a shit that it was the ugliest thing he had ever seen, then poured a half-filled mug of black coffee, figuring Michael could add whatever he wanted when he got up. He scooted past the tiny bitch Gengar and made his way into the living room, setting the items down on the coffee table. He gently patted Michael on his leg, still asleep on the couch, neatly curled up underneath a soft blanket.

"Hey, sleeping beauty, it's breakfast time," he cooed.

Gremlin blinked when her name was being called, looking up from whatever she had been peering into to gaze at Tarou. Only to then have her red/yellow hues fall upon the pancakes and-- Oh. That was right. Chittering pleasantly, she pranced over to the other and wrinkled her nose a bit. She didn't get what was so WRONG about the pancakes the way they were now... They tasted MUCH better. Plus, she was getting FREE food! So yes, perhaps she was doing it a tiny bit on purpose, but seriously if it were her, she'd just slam the pancakes on the plate and give them to Mikey-wikey. Sure the other would eat it. And if he didn't. She would.

Giving a huffy sound, she moved her hands against her cheek for a second before finally pulling at them and letting her tongue roll over her teeth and down her chin. Before she fled with a cackle to avoid getting a smack or so from Tarou ( It was a wonder Michael hadn't woken up by now, honestly ). The terror had instead opted on watching Menardi work her magic, cooing gently toward her and giving a thumbs up to show she was doing a PERFECT job and Gremlin was PROUD.

King peered up once from the bowl of cereal he had been given, squinting his eyes at Tarou with a look of contemplation it almost seemed, if only for a split second. Before he finally stuffed his beak down the bowl again instead, having decided that how Michael wanted his coffee or tea didn't matter one bit. And if Tarou wanted to score brownie points by doing shit Michael might've liked, he should just do what he always did. Be himself.

When finally Tarou had made his way back to the living room and lightly patted at the other's leg, he got nothing but a grumbled groan in response for a second, a hand vaguely making a shooing moment, if only momentarily. Because the words Sleeping Beauty weren't quite the words his 'mon usually used...

Blearily opening an eye, he focused on the sight of the male for a split second before closing it again with a soft hum, face burying into his arm for a second. Did he HAVE to get up now? Couldn't he sleep JUST a tad bit longer. Did they have to do anything today? It wasn't like they had a clue about the new Rainbow heroes yet, right? They were still trying to find out what and who and where and-- Uggh... Oh. Peeking over the sofa again, he finally realized where he was, causing him to move up and rub his hand over his face once.

" Fuck, ' kay... M'wake... " he mumbled out, biting back a yawn and failing miserably as he flopped back against the couch, watching the food Tarou had brought for him. " Breakfast on the couch? The h e a r t... "

“Scoot over, asshole,” Tarou announced, dropping like a sack of potatoes against the sofa. He wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulder, pulling him in for a buddy-huddle. “Don’t say I never did ya any favors. Now eat up, before your stomach implodes.” Like an overbearing parent, Tarou placed the plate of modern art onto his friend’s lap, eagerly imploring him to eat. In all honesty, he would be forcing the toast down his pal’s throat if he knew he could.

“And, I just wanted to say… Thanks,” he said, practically stuttering like a schoolgirl confessing her love. “... Thank you for… For everything. For opening up, an-and for understanding and… Just… Thank you, for last night, man.” There was a slight crack present in his voice, trying to work its way around the lump present in his throat. It was clear, both of them had experienced loss, and instead of dealing with it, they both compartmentalized. Their trauma had been bottled up and thrown to the back of their minds, only to come out at night when their integrity wavered. That was no life to live, not when they were barely living life to begin with.

“If you want, we can make this a regular thing, minus the getting obliterated part. ...I mean, unless you like that part. You could come over and we can just… talk. Vent. I wanna learn more about you, man.” Tarou popped his head up, looking to see if King was within earshot. He opted to lean down next to Michael’s ear, taking to a more captivating low tone. “... And, I’d really like to find out what else that mouth can do.” He let out a sneaky laugh, then planted an obnoxiously big smorch on Michael’s temple.

“So! Eat up, then you can get some more rest. I’ll entertain the kids. Once you’re up for real, we can do whatever you want. Just know, if you want to go out and do something that costs money, you’re paying, so I suggest thinking of activities that are free.”

" Get bent, fuckface. " came the tired reply, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth as he gave another large yawn, eyes watering. Fuck. What a n i g h t ... Heh... What a night. He wouldn't mind a repeat of that at all. The other knew how to work his fucking magic and he thought he had seen a lot of things, but Tarou had proven to him there were still a lot fucking more things he had yet to experience. Leaning back for a second, he rested his head on the arm that had wrapped around his shoulder, giving a groan when the plate was planted upon his lap with the firm words that he had to eat up.

" Okayyy... " he muttered, peering down at the creation in his lap before looking up in horror and finally staring at Tarou, placing a hand to his cheek to keep the other's focus on him. " ... T-T... For the fucking love of my soul... You didn't let Gremlin cook, right? Or if you did... King was around, right? " If there was one thing he knew, it was that Gremlin loved to try his fucking tastebuds and it was the WORST.

At the clicking noise that came from the kitchen ( assuring him King had been there ), he released the other's cheek with a heavy sigh, finally stuffing his mouth with some of the toast, listening to Tarou as he spoke and-- Fuck. Fuck he had tried so hard to remain fucking stand offish and-- Fuck. He had let the other in. He had let the other in, he didn't LET others get in but he let HIM get in. Swallowing down the toast, icy blues flitted to the other's face for a second before looking back down at the toast.

" It's... It's uh.. It's okay.. I mean... Life took us through the fucking bender, didn't it? " he finally murmured, stuffing some more toast in his mouth and peering to the side. Almost missing the next set of words, but not quite. Head turned to watch his friend, expression on his face unreadable as he thought, mind working a mile per second it almost seemed. Weighing the consequences and the pros. Until he came to the painful conclusion... He didn't WANT to hurt the other. Because FUCK he cared for him... And not only because he just had the night of his fucking life. But also because-- Well...

" Who would've guessed. " he murmured, giving a somewhat crooked grin before finally leaning back and letting out a loud cackle at the suggestion Tarou had given him afterward. " I'm glad this mouth of mine can still make someone m o a n. " he finally spoke, lips curling into a wide toothy grin, a cheeky glint to his eyes before he groaned at the almost GASP-like sound that came from the kitchen.

" Give it a REST King. Get yourself a girlfriend! "

The smirk faded to something warmer, hesitant but genuine when lips were pressed to his temple. " Fuck you, man. You're a fuckin' sap. " he muttered out, taking a bite of the toast before peering up. " Oh... I have a few free ideas... Hope you've got nerves of steel... "

"Oh, Christ, Gremlin convinced me to make omelettes at one point, and it was actually going well until she got her grubby little claws on the fridge and all hell broke loose. She threw mentaiko into the pan without removing the sack and--uh, mentaiko is... Actually, you don't need to know." Tarou didn't know just how well-versed his friend was in traditional Kanto cuisine, but maybe telling him that spicy salted fish ovaries were thrown into his eggs wasn't the best way to introduce him. Thankfully, the champion he was, Tarou had already suffered through that plate of Gremlin's application of only the finest culinary techniques to spare Michael.

He laughed at King's sharp gasp, seeing him poof his feathers all fluffy in an attempt to be intimidating only sent him into a fit, slapping his knee as he let out a lout 'PFFT.' He fucked King's dad, and there was nothing that shitty bird could do about it--hell, he allowed it. He stuck his tongue out at the Pokemon, continuing to lay on salacious comments to get a reaction.

"Mmh, go back to sleep, baby boy, 'cause daddy's got a lot of bonding to do with his step-kids. ...Unless, of course, my sneaky little Zorua just happens to need *his * daddy to take care of something. Are you going to monopolize all of daddy's time? Maybe daddy just needs to work his magic fingers on you a little longer, because those sure tuckered you out last night." His words, saturated with irony and condescension, seemed to be impossible for any normal human being to utter, but Tarou was no normal human being. As the fiend continued his sexual harassment campaign against the entire planet, he held long, unbroken eye contact with King. For the cherry on top, he dragged his tongue along Michael's cheek, letting out a hot, breathy moan for the entire duration.

If today was the day that a Togekiss pecked out his liver, he wouldn't be surprised. At least it would be free, entertaining, and after this little stunt, totally justifiable. He snorted, choked, laughter mixed with gags and coughs lurching out of his body, causing Menardi to waddle her way out of the kitchen and scramble up her Trainer's leg, eager to make him consume his tall glass of shut-the-fuck-up juice. The exact moment Tarou seemed to have regained the ability to breathe, she hopped off and continued her excursion with Gremlin, glad to be by her side.

"Ohh, fuck, goddamn," he wheezed. "Augh. Sorry, bud, I had to do it to him. So, why do I need nerves of steel, exactly?"

" Listen, fucking Gremlin should NOT be let near ANYTHING concerning food lest you want something poisonous to enter your system. " grunted out Michael, leering in the direction of Gremlin, narrowing his eyes for a second. Once, only once. But GOD he had spent a long enough time puking out his fucking insides to keep in mind NEVER to let Gremlin alone in the fucking kitchen. That she wanted to down everything chemic in her mouth, fine with him. It wouldn't kill her. But he swore by everything he wouldn't have her anywhere near HIS food. Pfft, it was going good, right, right... he had probably not noticed her doing some weird shit and-- Mentaiko? Stopping for a second, he gave the other a long stare, opening his mouth to question what the fuck mentaiko was until--

" What even if THAT... Mentaiko..? " he uttered before peering over his shoulder toward King, raising an eyebrow and then-- D a d d y... He nearly choked on a bit of his toast, coughing a few times and thumping his chest. God DAMN IT T-T. He TRIED to ignore everything that was being said. Not mananging to capture half of what the other was MEANT to be saying anyway only that-- Well...

A tongue found its way over his cheek and he couldn't help the exasperated sigh when he heard the familiar hissing noise of King. Were these two ever going to BEHAVE around each other? He thought it wouldn't be likely probably...

Slowly grabbing the black coffee, he opted on sugar for a split second before deciding: No... He fucking needed this fucker black. And gulped it down in one go. Only after twisting his face in disgust and hunching up his shoulders, did he finally turn to look at Tarou. " Couldn've done with less 'daddy' , T-T. " he finally spoke, watching as the other nearly choked on laughter, looking on somewhat worriedly and patting Tarou's back a few times. Almost ready to push himself to his feet in all his naked glory to get something to drink for him were it not for Menardi popping up.

" King is going to get back at you for that one, you know that right? " he snorted out, ribbing the other in the side once before finally giving a cheeky grin. " ... How would you feel about jumping some rooftops with me, huh? A bit of fucking about. "

Tarou pressed his hands against his lips in an almost prayer-like hand shape, his whole face contorting. He thought long and hard about what Michael was offering, his mouth forming a straight line.

"Alright, let me try to follow your line of logic. Last night, we got fucked up. You and I are nursing hangovers right now--I don't know about you, mine's like, 4/10, but it's still a fucking hangover, mind you. One of us--and I'm not going to name names, to protect the innocent and King's ear-holes--but one of us is definitely going to have some extra hobble in their step from the abuse they took last night. And your proposition. The thing you would like to do the most, Michael. Is to put all of that against us in a single physical activity."

Venemous golden eyes bore into his friend's bottomless pools of blue. His scrutinizing gaze didn't let up, even for a moment as he passed judgement. The corner of his mouth quirked up, then the rest of his face followed, blossoming into the largest smile he'd had in quite some time.

"Fuck it! Count me in."

Michael leaned back, simply gazing through half-lidded eyes at the person aside him ( atleast he had made him stop saying 'daddy', that was one small victory for now ). Honestly, seeing the shift of expression was absolutely GLORIOUS to look at. And yeah, yeah he knew exactly what the other meant. QUITE a feat that would be but fuck it, man. He tended to ... Do a bit of dumb shit. Beside that, he trusted in his abilities enough to NOT fuck up simple jumping from roof to roof shit. That was BASIC, bitch. He'd be disappointed with himself if he fucked that up.

" Knew I could count on you. " he fnally spoke with a snicker, wrapping an arm around the other and pulling him in close with a cheshire grin curling around his lips. " I mean... I feel like I could punch a few things or just knock myself out cold for another couple of hours buuut.. After that I definitely wanna get a bit of moving back in my body... Unlike the kind of moving that we've been doin' last night. Even IF that was enjoyable. " he purred out, clapping the other's shoulder twice.

And then, more thoughtful.

" And let's say... If you manage to jump over a certain gap of a roof, you get a free pass. You can ask me anything you want. " he added, giving a toothy grin. " Also to make sure I don't just bring you to a certain death, King will be around to catch you if you uh... Don't make the jump. " he assured before making a face.

" But again... First I could do with a few more hours fucking off to dream land. "