WHO: Alastair and OPEN!
WHERE: DANCITRON
WHEN: Friday night, between 9pm and the wee hours of the morning
WARNINGS: probably nothing if you don't count underage drinking and likely m/m flirting
SUMMARY: Everybody dance! Alastair wants to make more friends and hang out with the old ones before anybody else gets ported out on him. And to check out
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He better. I went through the trouble of making that damn ID for 'em.
The lanky quarterback was dressed rather smartly. He had on a dark gray shirt adorned with a print of a stack of bloody skulls with a fat raven on top. He just loved those gory t-shirts. His jeans were dark denim and tight and held up with a studded belt. A chain connected the wallet in his back pocket to his belt loop and his shoes were simple Converse sneakers. To make up for a lack of pockets in the jeans, he had tied a plain black hoodie around his waist. What its pockets contained, God only knew.
And maybe not even God, at that.
Finding himself a seat in the corner, he hailed a waiter with a wave and ordered a drink for himself.
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He sashayed up with a smirk. "Hiding out in the dark, are we?"
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"Besides, I told you. I didn't come here to dance."
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Hiruma dug around in the pocket of the hoodie around his waist and brought out a small bottle of vodka.
"If you know what I mean."
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Despite himself, he started to chuckle. "Just don't get him sick, I don't want to have to carry him home~."
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Hiruma snickered and nursed his drink, waiting for Bakura.
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