more steampunk fic umg somebody else write this shit
“I’ll see your fucking two and raise you by three,” Merrick drawled, blinking at the pot before tossing a handful of coins toward the center of the table. The other men around the table gave it a look before one of the military assholes slammed his cards down on the table.
“I’m out.”
“Out of what?” Slurred the commander of whatever the fuck he was, trumped up fucker with a handheld Gatling. Gatlings, Andy reflected as he stared blearily at his cards, were sloppy. Spray enough shot everywhere and of course you’d fucking kill whatever you were shooting at eventually. Fucking sloppy ass overkill, like half the shit the Government was doing to clear out new territory. Bitches.
Merrick elbowed him hard in the side and the blond jerked, nodding and unsteadily tossing a handful of coins towards the center as well. The other man at the table closed his eyes hard and opened them again, shaking his head a bit and flicking a few coins with a metal finger. His nanny or whatever he was bit his lip, the only one sober as he leaned forward. “Commander, you sure you want to keep going?”
“Shhyeah don’ worry ‘bout it,” Zeke Degado mumbled, ignoring his subordinate in favor of grinning widely at them both, leaning forward and picking at his cards awkwardly. Andy glanced Merrick, rolling his eyes and getting a snort in return before dropping a card on the table and picking up a new one. A three. Motherfucker. Cards were stupid as shit but nobody out here knew how to play anything else and usually it was easy money.
Merrick tossed another few coins in the center and suddenly turned to shoot the blond a sharp look. Not having any idea what the fuck was the matter with him, Andy just frowned back and tossed his own coins in, determined to bluff Degado out. Drunken dumbshit. The commander just continued to grin like a goddamn idiot and toyed with his own cards and coins, and Merrick continued to glare over at him and what the fuck was that.
“What,” Andy hissed, rubbing one eye and starting to really resent that fucking player piano shoved in the back corner. Just because a goddamn instrument could play on its own according to whoever put a damn nickel in didn’t mean it should, goddammit.
The redhead rolled his own eyes and poked him hard in the arm, hissing back in an uneven tone, “Get your damn foot out of my fucking pants in the middle of the fucking bar. Or at least do something better than footsie.”
Andy stopped, frowned, and just for good measure checked that both his feet were in fact in his boots and pressed against the damn floor. Then he frowned further, slapping his cards against the table as they ended the round and Merrick won. “I’m not fucking touching you.”
Both of them sat still, then, frowning in general half-drunk confusion at each other before suddenly turning to look at the man on the other edge of the table, who was grinning dreamily at Merrick while his assistant fretted over lost money.
“Oh motherfucker,” Andy swore, kicking out rather unevenly with one boot and giving a grin of his own when the asshole yelped in pain and jerked back from the table, overbalancing and falling backwards in his chair as the other two scooped up the pile of money.
“Heeeey, you cheated,” Degado whined, shoving himself into a sitting position on his downed chair and frowning uncertainly at them both. “You can’t play as a team. How’m I supposed to win?”
“Jesus.” Andy just rolled his eyes, dropping coins into the inner pocket of his jacket while Merrick snorted dismissively and downed the rest of his glass, stumbling slightly as Andy grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the stairs and subsequently the room they’d rent. Fucking asshole might be a drunkass motherfucker, but he’d had a pretty good idea.