log ; and anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain ; Faramond & Huang ; PART 1

[reflexed]

Who; Faramond and Huang
What; Basically them getting drunk.
When; May 9, night
Where; A bar and then Huang's flat


He had arrived earlier than expected to the bar. It was small but it still had an air of normality to it; clean, not dirty. It was something a person would expect from Faramond. And even if the bar he chose had been a bit more...dingy and not quite up to par with his standards, as long as they served good alcohol then there would be no complaining from the blond man.

He glanced to his watch as he took a seat at the bar and gave a small tap to the top of it. He wondered how long it would take Huang to show. Wondered if his friend would get lost and arrive just in the nick of time, like during that meeting for the Order. The thought of it drew a wry chuckle from Faramond and he nodded in quiet thanks at the man who set the beer to the bar top.

He would nurse the drink until Huang arrived; he had no plans on starting until then.

Huang had planned on arriving early, but his plans were dashed when he took a wrong turn and ended up halfway across the city. Thanks to one old lady he'd stopped and talked to, however, he was able to find his way to the right place. Now, arriving just as the hour was up, he scanned area and the people seated at the bar. He immediately spotted Faramond's blond hair. Unconsciously smoothing down his shirt, he made his way over, quietly taking a seat next to him.

"Hey," he said, glancing at him and smiling faintly. "Hope you haven't been waiting too long."

He gestured at the bartender, motioning for a beer like his friend's. He murmured his thanks, drew it towards him, and took a sip. He nearly sighed contentedly. This was exactly what he needed: good alcohol and someone to share it with.

Faramond shook his head to Huang's words, offering his friend a small smile, and looked back down to the bottle before him. "No, I haven't." That was all he said as he wrapped his fingers around the still surprisingly cool bottle and raised it, taking a much longer drink of it than Huang had his own.

He downed half of it and shivered a little, the motion visible, and he set it back to the bar top. That had tasted better than he had thought it was going to be; four months without a drop of alcohol had been worth it, he thought.

Turning a little to Huang the blond studied his friend, trying to figure out what to say.

"Thank you..." A short pause and Faramond turned away, looking down at his drink because looking at Huang for too long seemed to ask a blush to work its way to his face. "For coming."

Huang gazed at Faramond almost thoughtfully, catching the rapidity with which he'd downed the drink and how he couldn't seem to look at Huang. Guilt surfaced within him, and he hunched over the slightest bit, frowning. Raising his own bottle to his lips, he replied, "'Course I'd come, no need to thank me," and took a deep drink, hoping that enough of it would get rid of the urge to say I'm sorry that he had.

Instead he opted for: "Bet tonight killed any ideas for events that other organizations might have had."

He grimaced almost immediately after the words had left his mouth, realizing they weren't exactly tactful. But then again, tact had never been his thing. He took one more gulp, finished off the bottle, and asked the man behind the bar for another.

There was silence from Faramond and he opened his mouth to speak, to reply, but it was cut off by a second set of words and he noticed the grimace Huang made. What was said had made Faramond tense a little, his jaw clenching and his muscles going taut.

Those words hadn't been tactful. Not really. But Faramond knew exactly what it was Huang was trying to say and he relaxed a moment later; his body leaning forward, elbows on the counter and he took that moment to just sip his drink.

"Maybe," he answered. Another sip, followed by two more. "Or if they do decide to continue on with their events they will just take more precaution." And he was the one who was at fault for this. There had been a warning, had learnt the warning but he hadn't been quick enough to say anything.

He should have but life had taken its steel jaws and kept him from being a good General.

"We -" He paused, swallowed, looked to the man serving the drinks and asked for something harder. It would help better than any beer could and when he got his drink of choice Faramond took a short drink from it. "We would have been more prepared if I had said something."

There was a brief silence as Huang turned that sentence over in his head. He shook his head lightly, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't understand what you mean." It was common sense that they were in the middle of a war. Of course, they were cautious. Should they have expected the White Order to rear its ugly head? Probably, but-- "All you could have done was tell us to be alert, which we all know already."

Now that he thought about it, Huang felt that he'd been too eager, if that was even possible. He'd just jumped at the chance to confront a certain pink-haired lady, without even thinking it through. Maybe if he'd stopped and analyzed the situation, maybe if he hadn't let his heart run away with his brain, then the outcome have been different.

He frowned as he realized how tense his whole body was. He was brooding too much.

So, he drank, and drank some more.

"I had gotten warning that something was going to happen on the ninth." It was as simple as that and Faramond said it like it was, his eyes focused on his drink and the man sighed a little. "Helene had seen something happening but all she could give was that day. Not the time, not the place, not the exact details but still... I should have --"

Faramond opted for cutting himself off and brought the glass to his lips, tilting it up as the cool liquid hit his tongue and throat and it burned a little this time. It usually did the second time around.

"But things got in the way. I hadn't found a time to tell you all to be on your guard during the charity..." And he was blaming himself for this. If he had told his Knights that something was going to happen then maybe less people would have been hurt and less would have died. But Huang was right.

The more Faramond thought of this the more his friend was correct; all he would have been doing was telling them to be more alert.

Oh well. Faramond finished the drink and ordered another and while he waited he turned to Huang. "I am just glad that you're all right." The others were all right too but Huang had been the one he was the most worried for. Because he had been the one to get into an actual fight.

"You did all you could have," he reassured Faramond. "So stop blaming yourself." His voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt and clearly conveying that he did not want to hear any more of this 'could have, should have' business. He knew that there were a million ways the charity could have gone, and there was no point in going over the minor 'what if' details. He made a mental note to follow his own thoughtful advice.

Looking over at his friend, he smiled. "What I did was pretty stupid, so I'm glad you're alright, too." He didn't know if he would ever say it aloud (perhaps if he got intoxicated enough), but he had been afraid that Faramond would hold some sort of ill will towards him for injuring him. It'd been a minor accident, and he was still thanking the almighty being above for that, yet some part of him just felt bad.

Huang finished off his drink and ordered another, choosing something mixed and harder than beer. He saw Faramond was picking up the pace and figured he should, too.

Watching the liquid in his glass as he gently swirled it, a thought came to mind. "You know, you get drunk faster if you drink through a straw," was his brilliant fact of the day, and he couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped him.

There was a soft reply of, "mm..." beneath Faramond's breath and when Huang's tone took that sort of firmness Faramond was quick to listen to it. He knew what it meant. Had heard it once or twice before. But it was rather his common sense speaking up and telling him to listen to his friend -- but for how long that would last was a big unknown. At least, for now, he wouldn't mention anything of the like to him.

To the smile Faramond returned it, smaller than what usually would be given and it felt a little strained. "It's only bruised." And Huang was lucky that Faramond was the General and not another night or a neutral within the Order; if that had been the case...he pushed the thoughts away, returning to drinking and nearly choked on said drink to the mention of a straw.

That raised a confused look and a raised eyebrow. Not to mention quite a bit of disbelief.

"Huh?" Huang couldn't be drunk so soon to say something like that... "Through a straw? Really?"

Huang didn't even want to consider how much worse Faramond's injury could have been. It was only bruised because Faramond was stronger than him, which is something he thought was terribly ironic considering it felt like he'd been teaching him to fight just yesterday. He gently suppressed the reminiscing; there'd probably be time for that later tonight if they continued on the path they were on.

Faramond's reaction made him look sheepish, and he shrugged casually. "That's what a friend of mine told me back in college," he paused and took a sip of his drink. "Although I never did test his theory." Huang wasn't sure what had brought on the sudden need to be lighthearted, but he did know that dwelling on the events of the night would only stir up more feelings of discontent. He didn't want to say the wrong thing like he'd done earlier and upset his friend.

"I was there when he got smashed on just piña coladas, though, but that's probably beside the point."

He wasn't sure how Faramond would take the sudden change in conversation. He only hoped it would, somewhere down the line, lead to his friend relaxing and looking less strained.

"I see." So it was a friend, hm? It was a bit amusing, especially the fact that it was piña coladas that got the job done. He even cracked a little smile of amusement at the thought, hiding it by pressing the lip of the glass against his mouth and finishing the rest of the drink.

"If I wouldn't feel like such a fool, I would give that theory a try." Faramond looked over at Huang, smiling, drumming his fingers against the wood of the bar as he waited for his next drink. The change of subject was a well needed on, something the General--no, he wasn't a General right then--something that he, as a regular person, was thankful for.

He wanted to forget about the events that night. The things he had learned. The surprise. The shatter of denial and...Faramond swallowed, pushing the thought away and looked away from Huang. He would rather not his friend see the sudden change of expression his face and was grateful that his drink had arrived.

He proceeded to drown himself in it.

Huang finished his own drink and went for another, raising it to his lips with a grin. "Drinking is probably foolish in the first place," he said. "I think I'd give it a try if I didn't have to worry about getting home tonight." The last thing he wanted was to get lost (again) and wake up the next day curled up at a bus stop. Not that anything of the sort had happened to him before, of course.

He carefully ignored the subtle change he'd caught in Faramond for a second. Instead, he decided to share ridiculous stories about going out with friends when he'd been in school. Rifling through the metaphorical files in his mind for some amusing anecdote, he downed his drink and gesture for yet another.

"So, this one time," he began, leaning forward to cross his arms on the bar. "I remember watching a woman being challenged by some man to down as many shots as she could for money. She drank so many that the guy couldn't handle it and passed out. And she just stood up and took her money, not even drunk!" Then he stopped for a moment and looked thoughtful.

"Actually, wait, I think that may have been part of a movie."

He was listening quietly to everything Huang said as he, himself, tried not to mull or brood over things that needed not be thought of. But thankfully Huang was proving to be a good distraction with the stories and as he spoke the blond man turned a little in his stool.

He settled blue eyes to the man at his side as he held the cool glass in his hand, finishing it off before setting it down. The movement was enough to alert the server and he went about making another one and replaced the empty glass with a full one.

He caught something about a woman and a man in a drinking contest. Shots or some such. But it was when he was actually drinking and just the way Huang said that final line...Faramond nearly choked on his drink and he felt the back of his nose burning from the alcohol going up instead of down and he covered his mouth.

No. No he wasn't going to laugh.

He snorted.

Yes, he was. But he was doing so quietly and he couldn't really stop. That was funnier than it should have been and it was probably the alcohol making it that way.

He stared at Faramond for a moment, a bit surprised. He'd expected some remark about how he was absentminded or something, not such a positive response. Then he let out a sound between a snort and scoff, which quickly turned into laughter that he unsuccessfully tried to stifle.

Huang didn't even know why he was laughing, for God's sake! But once he started, he seemed unable to quell it.

Besides, he really couldn't get the image of Faramond nearly choking on his drink out of mind. If only his friend had seen his expression! He felt ridiculously amused, and he made the mistake of picking up his glass and taking a gulp. He went down the same road as Faramond, only it burned less and he sloshed more of it over the bar than he nearly inhaled as he set down the drink.

"I'd tell you another story, but it's probably from a movie too," he said and grinned at Faramond. As he spoke, the server replaced his previous nearly-finished glass with one full, and he didn't even think twice about it.

Trying his best to calm his laughter to a bare minimum was proving to be a little difficult. Not because of that story but because of the fact that Huang had choked as well. While he should be worried (and he was) he couldn't help but laugh a little more.

That face. The expression. He felt bad, very bad, but this was all too amusing.

Biting down on his hand he breathed, counting quietly to himself, chanting a mantra in his mind as his laughs turned to quiet chuckles and the tremble of amusement in his shoulders. And then he was calm.

Smiling, able to actually speak.

"You...are such an idiot," he said, tone affectionate and he poked about his own drink. Catching Huang's grin Faramond returned it with one of his own.

Feeling strangely content, Huang only responded with, "And that's just the way you like me."

Seeing his friend smile openly (not taking into account the amount of alcohol he'd already imbibed), he could finally breathe easily. It was like all the tension in his body had drained out. He was relaxed and in a state of steady amusement.

He still couldn't wipe the smile off his face, which probably made him look a bit silly. He decided it didn't matter. Tomorrow he could always blame it on the drinks he'd consumed, which he had stopped keeping track of the moment he had sat down next to Faramond.

Emptying his glass, he sighed a happy sigh.

"Mm." Faramond nodded his head in agreement. He would have spoken words but whatever words they were was proving a bit difficult. If he thought about it then the words would come and (hopefully) work their way out his mouth and sound right.

But he didn't think about that for now.

He was relaxed, feeling a bit tipsy, and whatever worry and fear and depression he had been feeling over was gone. For that time, at least. The alcohol has pushed those thoughts far away and to the back of his mind and Faramond was just enjoying this time with the other man.

It was nice.

Turning back to his drink he paid it some attention, sipping and finishing it off. What number was this? Didn't matter. It was okay.

"This is nice," he said suddenly, breaking the silence with a slight slur to his voice. The drinking was finally taking affect and hitting the light weight. "You 'n me..."

"Very nice," he agreed, taking note of the slur in Faramond's voice. Part of him, the part that was still missing the London nightlife, thought already? in a disbelieving way. His more rational, not yet affected by the alcohol side reasoned that his friend probably hadn't had a drop to drink in a long time.

It made sense, really.

Huang finished off his current drink and slid the glass in the general direction of the bartender, signaling that he wanted another. Drink number unknown was placed in his hands in under a minute. Vaguely, he thought this bartender's pretty awesome.

Then, he heard himself repeat the same thing aloud. Somewhere, in the dark recesses of his mind, the last sober part of him cringed.

Drunkenness loomed on the horizon.

Faramond only drank when he had to drink and those times were far and few between. Even at social events, whether they were thrown by the Order or by his parents or someone they knew, he wouldn't touch the alcohol and went about with soft drinks or water instead.

While part of him was lost in thought another part of him was paying attention to everything and he came to his senses when Huang spoke and the blond tilted his head, quirked an eyebrow. Awesome, huh?

Well, the guy sure did know how to mix up a good drink or five. So Faramond agreed. Outloud. The poor bartender just having to take the compliments as he continued his job and served up the twenty two year-old another drink.

"Say," he started, picking up his glass and taking a small sip. The alcohol was starting to affect his speech. That normal, proper tone replaced by something he wouldn't ever usually talk in. "Just a question but...d'ya mind if, after aaaaall this, I can stay with you tonight?"

Because going home was no option. His sister was there and his parents would get on his case for arriving home drunk. His head probably wouldn't be able to take the nagging.

Huang laughed softly but not unkindly at the way Faramond spoke. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his friend like this. Hell, at this point, he couldn't even remember if he'd ever seen him so affected by alcohol at all.

Taking a sip from his glass, he nodded in response to Faramond's question. "'course you can!" His voice was a little too loud, but he barely thought about it. "I've got no problem with taking you home."

The connotations of that sentence never even occurred to him.

"Got to warn you about the couch, though ... it's got some stray springs in it." He'd taken a nap on it the other day and woken up feeling as sore as if he'd gone to sleep on a bed of metal things that poked you all over. He supposed that's what he got for being so cheap and buying it from a secondhand store.

Now that he thought about it, he could always let his friend take the bed. And he said so aloud.

Now, if Faramond had been the type to giggle he probably would have from Huang's too-loud voice and the odd stares they were getting. Especially from that sentence, which Faramond's tipsy mind didn't get.

But he wasn't the type to giggle so he just smiled. Wide, happy, relieved.

"Was just gonna say I'd steal your bed from you, too." His smile widened and he scooted his stool a little closer to Huang's, dragging his drink along with him for the ride. "But since you offered, I guess I can't say no. I could but then that'd be kinda rude, right?" He paused to think it over, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as his brows furrowed and he shook his head a moment later.

Thinking hurt. Ouch...

"But if that couch's got stuff like that then you shouldn't sleep on it either." There had to be a way around this. A loop hole of sorts. A way for them both to get a comfortable night's rest. Finishing his drink he set the glass to the bar top, an idea hitting him just as the ice clinked and he said probably louder (and more enthusiastic) than was necessary, "we can share the bed!"

If Huang had been anywhere near sober, he would have been well aware of how much attention the rest of the bar's patrons were paying to their conversation and he would have felt embarrassed. Since he was quite far from being sober, he just laughed and looked like Faramond's suggestion was the greatest on earth.

"Fantastic idea!" Gesturing haphazardly with his drink, he said, "Can't believe I didn't think of that in the first place."

It was the perfect loophole. This way neither of them had to suffer sleeping on the couch, and he assured his friend that "the bed is big enough for both of us, promise."

He wasn't that sure of it, actually, but he wasn't about to admit to that out loud. Instead, he smiled happily, satisfied that they had their night all figured out. Once they were done drinking, to his flat they'd go and all would be well.

In his (rather tipsy) opinion, their night out was going great. And he believed another drink was in order, which he reiterated to the bartender.

And if Faramond had been anywhere near sober he would have never suggested the idea in the first place. But he wasn't and so it had come out just like that and all the attention they were garnering was lost on the blond. It wouldn't be at all that surprising if some of the patrons thought their relationship special.

Then again, in his sober state, Faramond knew the ratio of things in Berlin rather well.

Smiling proudly to his friend he leaned away, giving Huang his personal space back and looked to the bartender. The man was probably having a field day with the two of them and was whipping up their drinks in record time.

"I don't got any doubts that it's big enough." He believed Huang and Faramond had seen it once (he thinks so, at least) from that tour of the flat and it had looked big enough to him (from what he could remember of it).

With that he downed his drink and hiccuped, taking it too quick and a light hint of red rose to his cheeks. "Uh... 'Scuse me."

"You're 'scused!" was Huang's cheerful reply, after which he gulped down the rest of his drink. By now, he was beyond feeling lightheaded, a pleasant buzz having replaced it. He was going to have such a headache in the morning. He was just grateful he'd be waking up to the weekend and not a workday.

By now he was also very admiring of the bartender. He planned on leaving on a hefty tip for the man for putting up with them so well. He didn't think he'd ever been served drinks in such fast succession ever before.

Surprisingly enough, he turned down the next one offered to him. He had decided he needed to take a bit of a breather if he wanted to make it home with Faramond safely that night. It was surprising he could still make such conscious decisions.

"So, uh ... how you feeling, Adelle?"

He nearly giggled in response to the question because he was beyond the norm of Faramond. He was a happy drunk. A very, very affectionate one too but he had yet to actually physically show the affection.

Yet.

It would probably happen later though, if he didn't just pass out as soon as they arrived to Huang's flat.

"Feelin' good!" And he was. Alcohol, God's great gift to making one buzzed and drunk and tipsy and putting a lapse in the memory bank. "Dunno if I can walk though. Never drank this much before. Don't think so at least..."

He stopped to think and then leaned forward in his chair, towards Huang, staring at his friend for a moment. "How you feelin'?"

Huang stared back at Faramond for a moment before saying, "Feelin' like I got sunshine in a bag." And he meant it, really. Although it was surprising that he could still manage to properly quote lyrics even in the state he was in.

"You wanna test your walking?" he offered with a smile. His suggestion was in part made seriously, to see if Faramond could still walk, and in part made so they could move along. Something told him it was probably time they got going before Faramond passed out on him in the bar and he had to drag him home instead.

He was resolutely remaining optimistic, however.

It was shocking that he managed to maintain some coherency even after countless glasses of alcohol

Those words sounded familiar and Faramond thought them over for a minute. But he soon forgot all about thinking and trying to guess what it could be from when Huang posed a question.

That had been pretty fast. Wow.

"Uh..." Test his walking. Probably should test it, see if he could walk without stumbling or falling or tripping his own two feet. "Yeah. Probably should do that."

He didn't want Huang to have to drag him or carry him or anything like that because he had put on some weight and muscle since the school days. He really wasn't that kid fram back then. He could hold his own now.

After a moment of reminiscing with himself and being lost in La-La Land, Faramond set a hand to the bar top and the other to the back of the stool and slipped off, landing on his feet and he made a sound.

Wobbly legs were wobbly but he was able to stand. Sort of.

Huang did the same as Faramond, feeling wobbly on his feet as well. He watched his friend, unsure of what to do next. Should he put his arm around his shoulders in order to prop him up? Or should he just be ready to help him just in case?

Indecisive, he opted for asking, "You okay?"

After he tossed some money on the bar top to pay for their drinks, he moved a few steps in the direction of the entrance to the bar without stumbling. Although if you asked him, it still felt like the world was off-balance. He only hoped it wouldn't start to spin.

"Fine," was the short response and Faramond frowned a bit when Huang paid; he had been the one to ask him out so...he should pay, right? Digging into his own pocket he added to it and then followed after Huang to the entrance.

He was a bit less graceful than his friend was, however, and managed to trip over himself a couple of times. The first couple of times he was able to catch himself, keep walking straight for a bit and then stumble again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

But by the fourth try his hand came out instinctivly and gripped Huang's shirt tight, fingers curled against the fabric and Faramond looked up to his friend. "...I'm fine."

Chuckling softly, Huang put his arm around Faramond's shoulders. "Perfectly fine," was his encouraging response accompanied by a nod. Obviously, he didn't really believe that, but he'd learned that it was never a good idea to argue with or a contradict an inebriated person.

Gracelessly and with some stumbling, he maneuvered them out of the bar. The air outside was cool and refreshing, although it did little to clear his mind. At the moment, he was hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't trip and send them both crashing to the sidewalk.

"Now, then," he began, at the same time surprised to realize that he was leaning on his friend for balance. Seemed like he wasn't that great at holding his liquor after all.

"How will we get home?"

Faramond said nothing to the arm about his shoulders and he just followed along until fresh air hit his face and his eyes squinted a bit from bright lights. That hurt and his head was cranking a rather angry pounding from the change of scenery.

"Mm?" He looked up to Huang and slipped his arm around his waist, in attempt to be some extra support to the sudden feeling of leaning and weight against him. "Uh..."

That was a good question and Faramond frowned as he glanced from side to side. It would probably prove to be a pain to walk and asking a random passerby for a lift...really would be a no-no.

"Taxi...?"

Huang felt Faramond's arm around his waist and was grateful. Ridiculously enough, a part of him was struggling not to blush like a schoolgirl, but he managed to quell it by focusing on the very important matter at hand.

He thought Faramond's suggestion was their best option. Huang did not want to walk, not even to a bus stop (were they even running at this time?), and common sense told him to avoid approaching any random, shady characters on the street. "Taxi it is!"

Slipping his free hand into his pocket, he pulled out his cell and was relieved to find that he still had the number of the taxi he'd called to pick up from the airport when he'd first arrived in the city. Within a couple of minutes, their ride was secured and promised to be there in under ten minutes. Doubtful, but it was all part of the trick.

Looking down at his friend, he smiled and just said, "Soon," as if that explained everything.

Faramond was quiet as Huang was busy on the phone, his attention focusing on people across the street and the sounds of walking and talking and the late-night goers just enjoying themselves.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize Huang was done and looking at him. Didn't hear what he said but he did hear a voice.

"Huh?" Tilting his head back and looking up to his friend Faramond's expression was hard to read. It was something between confused and content. "Did you say something?"

Realizing his word had completely missed Faramond, Huang shook his head. "Nah, just mumbling to myself!"

For some reason, he felt a bit embarrassed, wishing the taxi would get there faster, but he was still happy. He wondered what Faramond had been thinking about, or if he'd been thinking at all.

He took in the sounds of the people around them and let it all wash over him. Closing his eyes, he unconsciously tilted his head back. He was glad he had met up with Faramond and had a couple (or nine, or ten, or something) drinks with him, and he refused to contemplate what might happen tomorrow. They would deal with the aftermath of the charity event, which he'd done a great job not thinking about, tomorrow.

He sighed contentedly.