circa mid 1790s?

[madurar]

[ Antonio usually does not drink for this reason, this cold grasp of melancholy. He usually does not need help to loosen his spirits. Currently however, he finds himself in a busy bar, half-full beer in his hands, half-empty smile on the contours of his face. If he closes his eyes, he feels it - the madness, the power, the blood brimming along and

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[unsetting_sun]

[ As if called by the insult to his beer, Arthur appears and saunters to the space next to his for-now ally. Clunking his own drink heavily to the scratched and aged wooden counter, he then leans against it himself, supporting his weight almost entirely on his elbows. His eyes are half hooded, not without humour nor without irritation, but mostly so because of the several, to say the least, beers he had already downed (for the more he drank, the fuzzier that French frog's face turned in his mind, and by this point, it was a blur). He blinks once or twice at Antonio, lips curving slightly as he attempts to form his words properly- for despite being ever a sailor, he was first and foremost an Englishman, and an Englishman never slurred his words, no matter how lagered. ]

Are you saying... you've had better?

[ He slouches a bit more, eyebrows furrowing as he gives Antonio the most serious look he can muster (which at this state of inebriation is focusing on the area between Antonio's eyebrows and looking rather like he's lost something). ]

[madurar]

Ah...

[ Antonio blinks, gaze lethargically setting right back on the younger nation settled next to him. The younger nation who was like a knife at his side at any other given opportunity, who destroyed his armada. Who looked at him with such an odd expression.

He stares for a second, blank faced, head tilted. Then - ]

[madurar]

¡Ajajaja! Your face! Dios mio -

[ Slumping down into the crook of his arms, Antonio smiles, laugh still in his voice. ]

Si. I've had better.

[unsetting_sun]

[ Arthur's eyebrows only furrow more and a small angry flush creeps up his ears- what was Antonio laughing at, his face was perfectly fine! Dashing even, he'd like to think. He straightens himself up some, but ends up immediately slumping back to the bar, as it was far easier to stay up that way. He resorts to sending a half-hearted glare to counter Antonio's smile, while twisting his drink between his hands. ]

Oh? And where have you had better? [ His eyes narrow slightly and he chuckles. ] ...Don't tell me you think yours is better.

[madurar]

Mucho mejor. Si, si.

[ Tracing the brim of his glass with a lazy finger, Antonio peers up at Arthur curiously, green eyes wide. Lethargically, he brings a digit, smelling of beer no doubt, to Arthur's cheek and presses right where the corner of the lips meet the skin. ]

One day I will have to show you myself. [ He stops poking at Arthur's face to point at Arthur's ears in a dazed fashion.] Though if you keep your face like that, I might... [ Weak laughter. ]

/retarded

[unsetting_sun]

[ Arthur struggles with Antonio's words, rudimentary Spanish all the more rudimentary while intoxicated, but the meaning comes through after a moment. ]

...Implore you to show me then. [ He doesn't seem to notice the missing words, distracted now by Antonio's prodding fingers at his face-- why is he touching him like that? The question swirls in his head as he tries to connect the conversation and his face, but nothing quite clicks. ]

... Even if your beer is better which it isn't... there's no question as to who is more handsome of face.

[ He mimics Antonio's prodding, grinning oh so drunkly BECAUSE CLEARLY THAT IS WHAT ANTONIO WAS IMPLYING. Right? Right. ]

[madurar]

Handsome? Eh?

[ Laughs at the PRODDING at first, but then scrunches up his expression, swatting Arthur's hand away only to lean in closer. ]

You are mistaken, amigo. Yo.... yo soy guapo! [ Points to himself, then points to Arthur.] Tu eres...

[madurar]

... bonito! Si, you do not understand. [ Mumbles incoherently in Spanish, rubbing at his eyes. ] You do not understand because your beer is so shitty.

[madurar]

Y because you are so bonito... [ Lets his head fall back into the cradle of his arms again, knocking his glass down and over. ] Ajajaa...

[unsetting_sun]

[ Arthur scrunches up his face in turn, swatting (and missing) back at Antonio's hand, before finding himself too close to the other- he can smell the beer on his breath. Again, is eyebrows furrow at Antonio's Spanish (accursed language, he thinks) but this time he catches only a few words. ]

... My beer is not shitty!

[unsetting_sun]

[ He stares at Antonio as his glass meets the floor, spilling a small bit of leftover beer on the barman's shoes. Arthur laughs beneath his breath at the display, prodding Antonio lightly and turning the last words over in his head (and ignoring the displeased look the barman shoots them both). Bonito... Bonito... Bonito.... It's not an insult, he's sure of it, how bizarre... ]

... [ He grimaces and his ears turn red again as he mumbles (Momentarily forgetting that mumbling is not proper). ] Only ladies are beautiful, 'Tonio. I am not a lady, I'm a gentleman. [ He leans heavily on his elbows as if contemplating. ] ...Are you a lady?

[madurar]

[madurar]

[ He returns to a sitting position with some difficulty, never mind how his sleeves moisten from his spilled drink. ]

La cerveza de mierda se te subio a la cabeza...?

[ "Did that shitty beer go to your head?" He says this more to a mark on the counter than he does to Arthur himself, but hey, it still counts. ]

[madurar]

[ When he does gather enough of his bearings to turn in his seat, the smile on his face turns hooked, a bit twisted. Arthur's ears went all funny again. ]

That depends, mi amigo - [ A laugh, and Antonio blinks to stave off the sudden heat behind his eyes. He thinks of France, and how pretty he always was and is. ] - on whether or not you think I am beautiful.

Oh god lmao

[unsetting_sun]

[ Arthur completely misses Antonio's first statement, so the mark was probably a better audience anyways preoccupied with staring at his drinking companion... and wondering what he would look like as a woman. His ears go a deeper shade of red and he clears his throat quietly, returning his attention to what was actually going on. He finds, to his dismay, that Antonio is now looking at him with a... strange look on his face. ]

[unsetting_sun]

... [ The question throws him off, completely and entirely off, and he laughs, because IT COULD ONLY BE A JEST, YES? He downs the rest of his beer, ears the colour of Spain's favourite fruit. ]