AIM Log; Rufus and Wakka. Closed.
Who: Wakka and Rufus.
What: Drinking and drowning in their sorrows - well, Rufus does the drowning sorrows bit.
When: Just after Wakka revealed what happened at the ball.
Where: Some random bar.
Warnings: Drunk!Rufus, which means slight OOC-ness on his part.
Notes: Yes, you can get pizza at bars. At least, you can now. =D Also, this is kinda unfinished - Rufus!mun had to go, otherwise there'd've been more wallowing XD but we thought we'd leave it as is.
Wakka: Telling Rufus what had happened at the ball hadn’t been his choice; rather, he hadn’t been there for the ball but had just heard about it through a lot of people and felt like opening his big fat mouth and sharing the ‘gossip’. He wasn’t even sure that the rumors were true, that is, until he saw Rufus’ hurt expression. And now, he had to deal with that hurt expression drowning itself in numerous shots of vodka and ‘that’s-probably-not-good-for-you-in-large-doses’ rum. The shot glasses were lined up in little rows on the bar countertop, and even though he hadn’t counted, Wakka knew that the number of them would no doubt very soon be in double digits.
Not that the man didn’t have a legitimate excuse for drinking that much; his boyfriend had cheated on him after all - but the blitzer wasn’t much looking forward trying to later explain to Tseng why the President’s son was in hospital with severe alcohol poisoning.
Rufus: The only thing that was on Rufus’ mind at that precise moment was that no, the room should not be spinning that fast, and that he had seemed to run out of rum, and no, he was not drunk, thank you very much. Motioning to the bartender to refill some of the glasses lined up like little glass soldiers in front of him, the blond rested his head in his hands, ignoring the thudding headache that was probably going to be twice as bad in the morning as he met the hangover that would be gleefully awaiting him when he woke up.
Every shot glass seemed to be leering unpleasantly at him, filling his mind with, ‘Oh, look at that, would you? Rufus Shinra, the ‘great’ son of the President, can’t hold down even one drink, and look, he can’t even keep his own boyfriend satisfied either!’ and other similar taunts, and it didn’t help him to stop drinking one little bit. Nor did it help the headache that was beginning to cleave his head in half, either.
Wakka: Leaning back on his stool, he looked around the bar, sighing a little to himself. He felt guilty that he had been the one to tell Rufus of the events at the ball - much less that Tseng didn’t just front up about it in the first place.
‘What sort of person would do that to their loved one?’ he wondered to himself, then quickly dismissed the thought, knowing it was none of his business whatsoever.
By this point, Wakka was 99.9999% sure that he should stop Rufus from drinking that shot, drag - or carry, as it would probably end up - him back to the school and back to the dormitory and salvage the little dignity he had left, but on the other hand it was his fault (well, partly his fault) that Rufus was like this, and he was prepared to put up with being ripped apart by the Turks for letting him get completely wasted. Shaking his head a little and not believing he was actually doing this, Wakka leaned over the counter, motioning to Rufus’ numerous glasses and then to the blackboard behind the pretty bartender.
”My good friend here’d like another refill, ya? And can I get one of ‘em… er, pina colada thingies? Ta.”
It didn’t look like the blond was going to stop drinking anytime soon, and Bahamut be damned, Wakka wasn’t about to stop him.
Rufus: He barely registered the bartender refilling his glass, instead cradled his head in his hands, thinking about… well, everything that had happened in the past six or seven weeks. Obviously, being drunk and thinking didn’t exactly go together, but the only joy out of that was that he wouldn’t remember anything the next morning.
Oh, how he wished that applied to memories too.
The only thing he could think about now was Tseng - the handsome, Wutanese Turk that he had come to admire and love so, so much - and how much he feared losing him. ‘And I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual, only reason he's still with you is that he doesn't want to hurt you.’ Was what Reno had said true? Rufus immediately grabbed for another shot glass, draining it. That wasn’t something he ever wanted to think about - no matter how true it may ever be.
Wakka: Wakka had expected Rufus to be sitting there, wallowing loudly in his upset, but it appeared that he was a silent wallower, so Wakka thought it would be best just to let him be. Just sit there with him, be a silent support, and make the decision of whether to drag Rufus to his dormitory or to the hospital afterwards. The bartender had a scowl on her pretty face; she wasn’t supposed to serve intoxicated people, but the blitzer had paid her a fair amount of gil to keep quiet about it. Reeve had gotten them permission to go here on faith; he didn’t want the Elementals professor finding out about Rufus’ drinking. Especially if it then found its way to his father’s ears. Not Good.
”Ruf, man, ya should prolly eat somethin’… drinkin’ on an empty stomach probably ain’t wise, ya? This place does a smashin’ pizza, whaddaya say?”
Rufus: Hearing his nickname, (that he hated with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns) the blond looked up to meet the gaze of his friend, nodding - or at least, trying to - at the suggestion. Even though it was too late to help stop him from getting drunk so fast, he hadn’t eaten anything for a few hours. Plus, sharing the pizza with Wakka might help him bond with the younger man a bit - a wave of guilt hit him as he half-drunkenly realised he’d been drinking to his heart’s content without really bothering to talk to Wakka. He had said he’d be there for Rufus to bawl his eyes out to - not likely - or go into a murderous rage at - very highly possible.
“’hat’d be nice, thanks Wakka,” he murmured. Besides, turn down pizza? Never.
Wakka: The blitzer grinned to himself at his second victory of the night - pizza = bingo. He motioned the scowling waitress over and ordered a Hawaiian pizza, complete with all the toppings, and a pitcher of water in the small hope that the blond would drink some. He didn’t know about Rufus, but he was starving - he could’ve easily consumed a Chocobo Eater on his own at the rate he was going.
Even though he had sworn to keep out of Rufus’ drinking, he slid a few of the glasses away from him and towards another bartender, hoping to get them washed and dried before Rufus could get anymore. Boy, was he going to cop it when he took the blond back to the Academy. But it was the last thing on his mind, and he sipped at the pina colada, thinking.
”Hey, Ruf man, you… d’you wanna talk about this?”
Rufus: Blinking, he tried to focus on the orange haired blitzer beside him, inwardly wincing at the question. Damn. He had hoped that wouldn’t come up. Rufus sighed.
”What is there to talk ‘bout? Tseng cheated on me ‘ith Reno, I’m drownin’ my petty sorrows in alcohol, and I’m gonna be pissed tomorrow. I dun think there’s much else to say.”
Wakka: Wakka frowned. That hadn’t been what he had been going for when he had suggested the idea of talking about his problems with Tseng. “Are you gonna talk this through wit him? It’s prolly just a big misunderstandin’!”
Rufus: He laughed bitterly and stared at his glass, the reflection making him wince. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days - which, although partly true, made him seem like someone who needed pity. And Rufus Shinra was not going to accept pity from anyone.
And damn, the light was getting far too bright for his tastes.
”When we can be in the same room as each other without the huge awkward silences? Maybe when that happens.”
Wakka: At this point, Wakka decided that he had definitely had enough to drink, and not even waiting for the pizza he stopped the bartender that was about to give it to him, putting it down on a nearby table with a couple having late night drinks together.
”Evening, ma’am, sir. Happy something’s day, ya!”
”C’mon, Ruf, you’ve had enough to drink for one night. Time to get back to the school now, ya?”
He asked the bartender for the cost, wincing at the amount of shot glasses Rufus had managed to rack up. ‘Too many… but I’d better get ‘im back to his dormitory. Best to let his dorm mates handle him rather than have his father killin’ me for lettin’ him drink all this.’
Rufus: Everything had gone blurry; even with his glasses on Rufus couldn’t see a single thing clearly. The shot glasses in front of him were complete blurs; Wakka’s wallet by his left hand was barely visible in his limited line of vision. The one thing he could identify regardless, though, was Wakka’s ridiculous hair do, and it was indeed the last thing he saw before he passed out on the countertop.
Wakka: Just as he finished paying the bartender - a couple of hundred gil on top of the bribery, no less - Wakka turned to see Rufus pass out on the counter, head resting on his arms as though he was simply sleeping. The blitzer sighed, and thanked his years of training and the fact that Rufus was light for a twenty two year old. The bartender glared at him disapprovingly, as if to say, ‘Get him out of my bar, please - I value my customers, you know.’
Wakka quickly got the message, and lifting Rufus into his arms, left the bar with considerable speed.
Once outside, he instantly felt a lot better - the stuffy, over cheery atmosphere of the bar had done little to calm his frazzled nerves - and he started walking in the direction of the Portal, humming a little to himself. No doubt some of the people that saw him would stop and stare, curious of why the President’s son was being carried back to his school completely unconscious, but Wakka was sure not to take too long.
And indeed, it didn’t take him long to get back to the school and reach the Shiva Tower, stopping at the Observatory.
”It’s probably best to just leave ya here, aye? Someone’ll find you… passed out and completely hung over in the morning, but I don’t wanna go in there - one of yer dorm mates might still be awake. Irresponsible, yeah, but you’ll live Ruf.”
Wakka lay him down on the couch in the recovery position and covered him with the trenchcoat that the blitzer had brought along to keep warm in the frigid evening air, and before he left, Wakka said one last thing to his unconscious friend.
“Good luck with yer man, Ruf. You’ll be fine.”
What: Drinking and drowning in their sorrows - well, Rufus does the drowning sorrows bit.
When: Just after Wakka revealed what happened at the ball.
Where: Some random bar.
Warnings: Drunk!Rufus, which means slight OOC-ness on his part.
Notes: Yes, you can get pizza at bars. At least, you can now. =D Also, this is kinda unfinished - Rufus!mun had to go, otherwise there'd've been more wallowing XD but we thought we'd leave it as is.
Wakka: Telling Rufus what had happened at the ball hadn’t been his choice; rather, he hadn’t been there for the ball but had just heard about it through a lot of people and felt like opening his big fat mouth and sharing the ‘gossip’. He wasn’t even sure that the rumors were true, that is, until he saw Rufus’ hurt expression. And now, he had to deal with that hurt expression drowning itself in numerous shots of vodka and ‘that’s-probably-not-good-for-you-in-large-doses’ rum. The shot glasses were lined up in little rows on the bar countertop, and even though he hadn’t counted, Wakka knew that the number of them would no doubt very soon be in double digits.
Not that the man didn’t have a legitimate excuse for drinking that much; his boyfriend had cheated on him after all - but the blitzer wasn’t much looking forward trying to later explain to Tseng why the President’s son was in hospital with severe alcohol poisoning.
Rufus: The only thing that was on Rufus’ mind at that precise moment was that no, the room should not be spinning that fast, and that he had seemed to run out of rum, and no, he was not drunk, thank you very much. Motioning to the bartender to refill some of the glasses lined up like little glass soldiers in front of him, the blond rested his head in his hands, ignoring the thudding headache that was probably going to be twice as bad in the morning as he met the hangover that would be gleefully awaiting him when he woke up.
Every shot glass seemed to be leering unpleasantly at him, filling his mind with, ‘Oh, look at that, would you? Rufus Shinra, the ‘great’ son of the President, can’t hold down even one drink, and look, he can’t even keep his own boyfriend satisfied either!’ and other similar taunts, and it didn’t help him to stop drinking one little bit. Nor did it help the headache that was beginning to cleave his head in half, either.
Wakka: Leaning back on his stool, he looked around the bar, sighing a little to himself. He felt guilty that he had been the one to tell Rufus of the events at the ball - much less that Tseng didn’t just front up about it in the first place.
‘What sort of person would do that to their loved one?’ he wondered to himself, then quickly dismissed the thought, knowing it was none of his business whatsoever.
By this point, Wakka was 99.9999% sure that he should stop Rufus from drinking that shot, drag - or carry, as it would probably end up - him back to the school and back to the dormitory and salvage the little dignity he had left, but on the other hand it was his fault (well, partly his fault) that Rufus was like this, and he was prepared to put up with being ripped apart by the Turks for letting him get completely wasted. Shaking his head a little and not believing he was actually doing this, Wakka leaned over the counter, motioning to Rufus’ numerous glasses and then to the blackboard behind the pretty bartender.
”My good friend here’d like another refill, ya? And can I get one of ‘em… er, pina colada thingies? Ta.”
It didn’t look like the blond was going to stop drinking anytime soon, and Bahamut be damned, Wakka wasn’t about to stop him.
Rufus: He barely registered the bartender refilling his glass, instead cradled his head in his hands, thinking about… well, everything that had happened in the past six or seven weeks. Obviously, being drunk and thinking didn’t exactly go together, but the only joy out of that was that he wouldn’t remember anything the next morning.
Oh, how he wished that applied to memories too.
The only thing he could think about now was Tseng - the handsome, Wutanese Turk that he had come to admire and love so, so much - and how much he feared losing him. ‘And I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual, only reason he's still with you is that he doesn't want to hurt you.’ Was what Reno had said true? Rufus immediately grabbed for another shot glass, draining it. That wasn’t something he ever wanted to think about - no matter how true it may ever be.
Wakka: Wakka had expected Rufus to be sitting there, wallowing loudly in his upset, but it appeared that he was a silent wallower, so Wakka thought it would be best just to let him be. Just sit there with him, be a silent support, and make the decision of whether to drag Rufus to his dormitory or to the hospital afterwards. The bartender had a scowl on her pretty face; she wasn’t supposed to serve intoxicated people, but the blitzer had paid her a fair amount of gil to keep quiet about it. Reeve had gotten them permission to go here on faith; he didn’t want the Elementals professor finding out about Rufus’ drinking. Especially if it then found its way to his father’s ears. Not Good.
”Ruf, man, ya should prolly eat somethin’… drinkin’ on an empty stomach probably ain’t wise, ya? This place does a smashin’ pizza, whaddaya say?”
Rufus: Hearing his nickname, (that he hated with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns) the blond looked up to meet the gaze of his friend, nodding - or at least, trying to - at the suggestion. Even though it was too late to help stop him from getting drunk so fast, he hadn’t eaten anything for a few hours. Plus, sharing the pizza with Wakka might help him bond with the younger man a bit - a wave of guilt hit him as he half-drunkenly realised he’d been drinking to his heart’s content without really bothering to talk to Wakka. He had said he’d be there for Rufus to bawl his eyes out to - not likely - or go into a murderous rage at - very highly possible.
“’hat’d be nice, thanks Wakka,” he murmured. Besides, turn down pizza? Never.
Wakka: The blitzer grinned to himself at his second victory of the night - pizza = bingo. He motioned the scowling waitress over and ordered a Hawaiian pizza, complete with all the toppings, and a pitcher of water in the small hope that the blond would drink some. He didn’t know about Rufus, but he was starving - he could’ve easily consumed a Chocobo Eater on his own at the rate he was going.
Even though he had sworn to keep out of Rufus’ drinking, he slid a few of the glasses away from him and towards another bartender, hoping to get them washed and dried before Rufus could get anymore. Boy, was he going to cop it when he took the blond back to the Academy. But it was the last thing on his mind, and he sipped at the pina colada, thinking.
”Hey, Ruf man, you… d’you wanna talk about this?”
Rufus: Blinking, he tried to focus on the orange haired blitzer beside him, inwardly wincing at the question. Damn. He had hoped that wouldn’t come up. Rufus sighed.
”What is there to talk ‘bout? Tseng cheated on me ‘ith Reno, I’m drownin’ my petty sorrows in alcohol, and I’m gonna be pissed tomorrow. I dun think there’s much else to say.”
Wakka: Wakka frowned. That hadn’t been what he had been going for when he had suggested the idea of talking about his problems with Tseng. “Are you gonna talk this through wit him? It’s prolly just a big misunderstandin’!”
Rufus: He laughed bitterly and stared at his glass, the reflection making him wince. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days - which, although partly true, made him seem like someone who needed pity. And Rufus Shinra was not going to accept pity from anyone.
And damn, the light was getting far too bright for his tastes.
”When we can be in the same room as each other without the huge awkward silences? Maybe when that happens.”
Wakka: At this point, Wakka decided that he had definitely had enough to drink, and not even waiting for the pizza he stopped the bartender that was about to give it to him, putting it down on a nearby table with a couple having late night drinks together.
”Evening, ma’am, sir. Happy something’s day, ya!”
”C’mon, Ruf, you’ve had enough to drink for one night. Time to get back to the school now, ya?”
He asked the bartender for the cost, wincing at the amount of shot glasses Rufus had managed to rack up. ‘Too many… but I’d better get ‘im back to his dormitory. Best to let his dorm mates handle him rather than have his father killin’ me for lettin’ him drink all this.’
Rufus: Everything had gone blurry; even with his glasses on Rufus couldn’t see a single thing clearly. The shot glasses in front of him were complete blurs; Wakka’s wallet by his left hand was barely visible in his limited line of vision. The one thing he could identify regardless, though, was Wakka’s ridiculous hair do, and it was indeed the last thing he saw before he passed out on the countertop.
Wakka: Just as he finished paying the bartender - a couple of hundred gil on top of the bribery, no less - Wakka turned to see Rufus pass out on the counter, head resting on his arms as though he was simply sleeping. The blitzer sighed, and thanked his years of training and the fact that Rufus was light for a twenty two year old. The bartender glared at him disapprovingly, as if to say, ‘Get him out of my bar, please - I value my customers, you know.’
Wakka quickly got the message, and lifting Rufus into his arms, left the bar with considerable speed.
Once outside, he instantly felt a lot better - the stuffy, over cheery atmosphere of the bar had done little to calm his frazzled nerves - and he started walking in the direction of the Portal, humming a little to himself. No doubt some of the people that saw him would stop and stare, curious of why the President’s son was being carried back to his school completely unconscious, but Wakka was sure not to take too long.
And indeed, it didn’t take him long to get back to the school and reach the Shiva Tower, stopping at the Observatory.
”It’s probably best to just leave ya here, aye? Someone’ll find you… passed out and completely hung over in the morning, but I don’t wanna go in there - one of yer dorm mates might still be awake. Irresponsible, yeah, but you’ll live Ruf.”
Wakka lay him down on the couch in the recovery position and covered him with the trenchcoat that the blitzer had brought along to keep warm in the frigid evening air, and before he left, Wakka said one last thing to his unconscious friend.
“Good luck with yer man, Ruf. You’ll be fine.”