Awesome Title of Awesome

[ichbin_preussen]

Who: Francis and Gilbert
Where: A local bar..
When: Two weeks after previous log
What: Drinking and AAAAANGST.
Can other people participate: Sure
Summary: Francis and Gil meeting up for drinks, nearly two weeks after their last time hanging out ended on a sour note.

Comments

[ichbin_preussen]

Any number of greetings rolled through Gilbert's mind when he saw Francis, all immediately discarded because they were too harsh and caustic. He missed Francis, much as he hated to admit it, and telling him off for his shitty occasional texting or lack thereof as soon as they were reunited wouldn't do any good. If he wanted to see Francis, he would have to make a concentrated effort to be civil and not bring the she-beast up.

"How's it going?" Gilbert gave Francis a stiff smile, then waved at the bartender to bring another round. More out of habit, really - he'd been here so many times and slept with that particular bartender so often, the wave really wasn't necessary. All those times he was usually gutted drunk and in no shape to walk or drive back to campus, but as far as he could remember, the bartender was pretty damn good in bed.

He'd been a fantastic distraction the last two weeks. Gilbert spent every night here, usually at the end of the bar, until last call, then let Eric - a terrible, generic American name, in Gilbert's opinion - take him home, back to his little one bedroom apartment where he had a cat and a king-size bed that took up the majority of his single bedroom.

All in all, fucking Eric (never the other way around), pretty and flexible as he was, was awfully depressing when he couldn't think of anyone but Francis.

[beau_bonnefoy]

Wanting to be cautious about what he says, Francis was quiet for a moment. He didn't want Jeanne to be mentioned at all tonight, and he didn't want to jump in and say how he missed seeing Gilbert so quickly. Perhaps the alcohol would loosen his tongue enough for that later, but for now, he'd stay far away from that. "Fine, I suppose. You?" As if he'd bring up how complicated and confusing everything has been over the last few weeks, or how he's blueballed himself and not gotten laid at all. That was a bit pathetic, so Francis really didn't want to mention that either.

He was grateful when the beer came. He grabbed his bottle and took a sip, not giving the bartender who brought it over so much as a glance. Francis was never too keen on beer, but as long as it wasn't the shitty American kind, he could tolerate it.

[ichbin_preussen]

Eric was a bit dense, one of those types big on brawn, short on brains who would have been better suited playing hockey or American football. But he wasn't stupid enough to linger and chat when Gilbert had a guest along. He handed Francis his drink, patted Gilbert on the shoulder twice, and returned to his duties. Now, if they were sitting at the actual bar, Eric would stick around and talk until someone approached with an order. And make things uncomfortable, of course.

"Alright. Been kind of busy with classes."

But of course that was shitty American beer Francis had. Gilbert knew how terrible that stuff was, but he even had a bottle of it himself and wasn't about to go order something nicer for Francis. He could just get up off his ass and do it his damn self. Besides, the two screwdrivers Gilbert already had in him - rough mixes, too, like the ones he made for himself in his dorm room - sort of dulled the nasty beer taste anyway.

[beau_bonnefoy]

It was safe to say Francis didn't look at the label on the bottle before he drank. He should have, because he wasn't sure there was a more disgusting taste than the one that hit his tongue immediately. A look of disgust was clear upon his face as he set the bottle down and scooted it away. He'd get up and order himself a much better drink in a minute but he stayed where he was for a moment. Something about the way that bartender patted Gilbert irritated him. It was completely irrational to get upset over it, but he decided staying away from bartender for now would be a great idea.

"Yeah, same."

Francis didn't really like this conversation. It was going no where, that was more than obvious, but for the life of him he couldn't really think of anything to talk about. Well. "You know the bartender well I take it." Not what he wanted to discuss, but he deemed it to be a safer subject, even if he really didn't care to hear the answer.

[ichbin_preussen]

Don't be rude. Don't be obnoxious. Don't say anything unnecessary that might set Francis off, not while they were on such shaky grounds right now. Gilbert wasn't alright with Jeanne worming her way back into Francis' life, and Francis probably wasn't happy with Gilbert's refusal to adjust accordingly and simply be happy for him, because friends were supposed to do that. Why add to the stress?

..why? Because keeping his mouth shut wasn't always easy. In fact, once he had his toes stepped on, it was damn near impossible. Gilbert took a slow swig of beer without pulling a face, idly wishing he'd filched a cigarette from Eric earlier, just to making this scenario as disgusting as possible. Crimson darted towards the bartender when Francis mentioned him, gave the man a very noticeable once-over, then slid back and fixed on blue, almost daring him to say anything. "Yeah. Pretty well. I know a lot of bartenders around here. I drink a lot."

[beau_bonnefoy]

"Good for you." Usually such a phrase would have come out quite sarcastically, but Francis didn't say it that way at all. No, he actually sort of meant it. Not the drinking so much...but the other. Francis knew all too well what that look meant, and despite the sick feeling it gave him, it was for the better. Most definitely. Maybe that bartender would actually be good for Gilbert.

Maybe the other man would make Gilbert happy, and that would be enough to help Gilbert accept the fact that Jeanne was coming back into Francis's life. Maybe he'd give her a chance and they could all get along and go out together and--it was wishful thinking, Francis knew, but it would be nice...

[ichbin_preussen]

"Passes the time." And it did. It passed a lot of time. Aside from the fact that it wasn't Francis and he'd snored a little, Gilbert had no complaints about Eric. The poor guy even tried to take him out on dates sometimes. These invitations usually happened when Gilbert's face was about six inches from hitting the bar counter, so he couldn't do much else than mumble incoherently, but Eric meant well.

That, or he had some masochistic attraction to emotionally disconnected career alcoholics. There was always that.

Leaving that conversation where it was, Gilbert got up and went to exchange his empty beer for something stronger. Those two just weren't cutting it. And yes, he made absolutely sure to make an ass out of himself, leaning on the bar, elbows propped on the counter, and spinning the bottle around on the counter with one finger til Eric came over to get his order. And a smile the probably looked just as disgustingly sweet as it felt. Oh, and can't forget to exchange brief pleasantries while waiting on his drink, just to make sure they both had a small laugh before he headed back to the table, drink in hand.

Comped drink, of course. One of the perks of fucking the bartender.

[beau_bonnefoy]

Francis glanced over at the bar from the corner of his eye then focused his attention elsewhere. Gilbert was being an ass on purpose. No surprise there. It was the how he was doing it that was bothering Francis. Something as trivial as Gilbert flirting with his latest fuck shouldn't bother him at all. But it was. And he still couldn't figure out why. There was no reason for him to feel burning hot anger and physically ill. It was probably the atmosphere. It was loud and smokey, and all the people here made the room temperature higher than normal. That had to be it. Nevermind he had felt somewhat similar when he had seen that Norwegian kid all over Gilbert's cock.

He tried to ignore it. He had Jeanne now. Again. In just a few months he'd see her again, and she'd come back with him. Well, not exactly, because her school would be a bit away, but close enough that he'd be able to see her on the weekends. And that would be enough. And if...if Gilbert was going to keep on being like this. Maybe it would be better to stop seeing him for an even longer time. It hurt to think that, but that was the only solution Francis could think of.

When Gilbert came back over, Francis told himself he wasn't going to react to that the way Gilbert wanted him to. It was hard, but by the time Gilbert sat back down, Francis had forced himself to act more pleasantly. "You two are just too precious. I can tell you really care about him. I like seeing you happy; so good luck with him. ♥"

[ichbin_preussen]

A stiff drink wasn't the only thing Gilbert brought back with him. On top of being great in bed, Eric was also a smoker, and happily loaned out a cigarette when Gilbert asked. That was supposed to be a last-ditch effort if Francis started getting shitty. It ended up being something Gilbert couldn't resist lighting up right there at the table; he needed it just as much as he needed that drink after listening to that whole disgustingly sweet litany.

He didn't smoke cigarettes. Not socially, not when he went out to drink, not ever. The only thing he ever smoked smelled a hell of a lot stronger, came rolled a lot tighter, and certainly took him higher. Needless to say, his first drag and exhale were a bit disappointing.

"Eric? I don't care about Eric. I care about getting a decent fuck more than once or twice a week. I care about going down on that huge dick of his as much as he wants so I can get free drinks whenever I want." Speaking of that, Gilbert paused and took a long drink to wash the ash taste out of his mouth. "I've had great luck with him. I know just how to hit it to make him come without touching his cock. But hey, I appreciate that. Good luck with your..uh..sideshow or whatever."

That hurt. Fucking hell, that ripped right into the heavy weight sitting in his chest, left over from finding out Francis and Jeanne were talking again. It ripped into that feeling and tore barely scabbed-over wounds wide open again just to say that, just to intentionally hurt his best friend. But with the way he was feeling now, so completely enamored with the other boy despite all this, it needed to happen. If Francis wanted Jeanne, then..then Gilbert had to push him away. He had to create a distance between them again.

These fucking drinks weren't working fast enough.

[beau_bonnefoy]

Francis didn't hide his disgust when Gilbert lit that cigarette. Even though the stereotypical Frenchman wore a beret and had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but Francis found them repulsive. They smelled terrible and the taste of it in someone's mouth was absolutely revolting.

After what Gilbert said, Francis almost reached for that beer and down it. Almost. Rather, he fixated his gaze to the tabletop, unable to get those cruel words out of his head. Thanks to the lovely description, images Francis really didn't want to see were stuck in his head. He didn't want to think about how Gilbert's mouth looked wrapped around that man's cock, or how he looked when he fucked him.

But the images wouldn't leave, and the longer they stayed in his mind's eye, the worse he felt. That sick feeling in his stomach was almost overwhelming. Any worse and he would have to run outside or to the bathroom, whichever he thought he could get to faster.

And did that mean that Gilbert had been using him, all this time, just for fucks? And that he wasn't good enough? It shouldn't bother him. Not at all. Not when all this time he thought what they did was just to do it. Meaningless. He'd even said so last time they'd spoken, but now...Fuck. Why did this all have to be so complicated and confusing?

Finally, after a long moment he flicked his eyes up at crimson. "You're such a fucking dick. You know, I came up here thinking we could fix shit. Nice knowing I was wrong."

And then he grabbed that disgusting beer and downed it.

[ichbin_preussen]

There. See? A few snarky comments and already Francis was cursing at him, drinking common American swill just to hurry up and get through this night. As much as it hurt to do this, Gilbert knew there was no other way. Even if he told Francis how he felt, it wouldn't change things. Jeanne was still out there waiting in the wings, arms open to pick him up once his best friend knocked him down.

"Fix shit? Hold that thought." Because after that last swallow, his glass was empty and he needed a refill that would last the rest of this conversation. Or argument, as it would probably end up being. Off he went to the bar, returning with a bottle and a clean glass. Tequila this time, and the double shot he poured himself had nothing mixed in. Straight shots, no mixers.

"What the fuck is there to fix? No matter what's said here, you're going to go back to her, she'll lick your wounds, suck you off, and you'll forget about everything. Just like last time."

[beau_bonnefoy]

Francis slammed the bottle down, not so much out of anger no matter how angry he was, but just because that beer was so disgusting. It fit the moment, however. Disgusting flavour for an unsavory moment.

"I didn't forget anything. You keep saying how I blew you and Antonio off and shit, but I can think of numerous occasions when I tried talking to you and wouldn't give me the time of day. So don't go there." He folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "I really don't see why this is an issue anyway. You've already made such a trend of bitching at me for people I'm with--or you think I'm with--I should be used to it."

[ichbin_preussen]

"For good reason!" God, that shot burned. Tequila always burned his throat, no matter how numb the rest of his body was. "You stopped hanging out with us when you got with her. I wouldn't hate her as much as I do right now if it weren't for that shit. Y'know what though? I guess I should have hated you too, 'cause you chose her over us. Her, some stupid high school fling, over your best friends, who've been with you since we were little."

Oh, but now they were back on that bullshit again, that time he'd said something about Francis kissing Art and gotten so damn worked up about it. Gilbert rolled his eyes and exhaled smoke. "Great. Wonderful, here we go, drag up old tired shit again. We aren't talking about anything but you and your dumbshit baby-factory. It's an issue because you're my best friend and she's just going to do the same stupid crap all over again. She's just going to play you and leave you in the fuckin' dirt!"

[beau_bonnefoy]

That wasn't fair. In the position he had been in, what was Francis supposed to do? He'd tried hanging out with Antonio and Gilbert when he was able to, but both sides made it difficult to do anything. So like any fifteen-year-old, he went with what got him laid.

"I guess you should just hate me then. I already made my decision and I'm getting back with her, whether you like it or not. So you can just accept it or fuck off."

[ichbin_preussen]

Common etiquette required he leave the bottle on the table so Francis could get blackout-drunk too. He might want to just as badly as Gilbert did. Or maybe not, since he had someone to report in to now. Jeanne might pitch a bitchfit on him if he skipped one of her million-a-night phone calls because he was passed out drunk alone in his bed. Yeah. Alone. Even if tonight was his last night single, no way in hell was Gilbert going back to his room to give him a goodbye congratulatory fuck.

So Gilbert kept the tequila to himself, slamming back three double shots before he came up with a decent answer and had to set the bottle down.

"No. I don't have to accept shit. I didn't last time, and I'm not going to now. And I'm not going to fuck off. I come here and drink every night, I fuck the bartender, and I've fucked..." Gilbert paused, squinting to make out a few of the patrons seated around the bar counter. Tequila was really starting to help, not just his headache, but his resolve to be patient with Francis. "...half the guys sitting over there right now. They buy me drinks all the time. So..this..is my bar. I don't hafta fuck off. While you're picking out wallpaper for your cute little home in Nice and begging money off your parents to pay for that bitch's wedding, I'll be right fucking' here. You..you take pictures though, when Antonio's your best man. I figure he'd look pretty hot in a suit."

Alright, so that tequila was helping a lot - the conversation took a wild hairpin turn into left field, where anything that came to mind rolled right off his tongue before he had a second to think about it.

[beau_bonnefoy]

Francis frowned. "I don't care about who you're fucking and who you've fucked. So what. These people might enjoy getting in your pants now, but give them some time. They'll get tired of you, go on with their lives and they'll forget all about you. What's the point of bragging about something like that? You'll be all alone and left with no one. And guess what? I'll have Jeanne. I'll be happy while you're here wasting away."

Francis was angry. Livid. But that didn't keep from feeling terrible about what he said. That wasn't what he wished for Gilbert, but damn it, it was damn near impossible to be nice. To be honest, he wasn't sure why he hadn't gotten up and left. He didn't have to sit here and listen to Gilbert bitch. But his feet refused to work and take him outside.

The idea of Gilbert not being at his wedding--when and if he decided to get married--made him a little sad too. Maybe sad wasn't the right word. But whatever. He hadn't ever really considered marriage, that was something Jeanne talked about and he just made noncommittal noises to while looking at porn on his laptop. The one thing he had thought of though, was how much fun they would all have at his bachelor's party. He would've asked Gil to plan it, because he didn't know anyone who got more into drinking and shit as much as he did. But things change. Francis was just as well without him and his complaints about Jeanne.

Totally.