and our hearts are lit with darkness falling down, down, down

[chasinghumanity]

Fuck all of it. That had been Mitchell's motto for the last two weeks and still the song remained the same. That was a long time to be pissed off at the entirety of the human race, but Mitchell had lived a great deal longer than most. He knew how to keep a fire burning low and long

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[wearestars]

Depending on the day, Lionel finds the sheer number of freakishly attractive men on the island to be either bliss or patently unfair. Nearly two months he's been here, and make no mistake, he doesn't think he's bottom of the barrel or anything, but this isn't exactly like hooking up with randoms at the park. The hotness standard it so beyond him in this place.

Case in point: Gloriously attractive British hipster artfully hunched over a bottomless glass of tequila. The guy is clearly miserable, yet still somehow gorgeous, with a mop of dark hair that Lionel is itching to brush back from his eyes.

Brown eyes. Seriously, so unfair.

Two stools down, chin propped on his upturned palm, Lionel slides an idle finger around the rim of his glass and watches.

"Have another," he says, tips his index finger into his cocktail, and then sucks the liquid from his fingertip with a bored air.

[chasinghumanity]

You don't get to be 116 years old without seeing quite a few of him at various bars. It wasn't the hair or the style. It wasn't that he was very obviously gay. It was that he was very obviously young and bored and didn't know what kind of trouble he could get himself into.

Mitchell could eat him for lunch. Or a late evening snack. And the fact that he could but he can't is a hell of a slap to the face.

Even so, he muddled through, pouring himself another shot, as ordered. He had fuck all else to do and a home he spent half his time avoiding. What was a little game of cat and mouse even if it went nowhere?

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" he asked, turning his gaze with a lifted brow on the young man.

[wearestars]

"Pretty sure you don't need any help with that," Lionel replies with a sardonic twist of his lips and a pointed glance to the half-empty tequila bottle the guy's been all but worshiping. "I don't think the phrase 'drown your sorrows' was intended to be literal."

[chasinghumanity]

"Shows what you know," Mitchell said with a seemingly easy, wry smile as he set the bottle down. "I have a lot of experience in this area and I can assure you: there's nothing like a blinding hangover headache the next morning to shove all thoughts out of your head, sorrowful or otherwise."

He picked up his shot glass with a remarkably steady hand and half turned in his seat towards the young man. Boy. He was a boy. "So what are we drinking to?" he asked, pointedly glancing at his cocktail. Mitchell wasn't the only one here with a reason, though his might have been far heavier than the other's.

[wearestars]

There are really only two reasons Lionel drinks: Boredom or despondency, and lately there's really only one reason for the second. He takes a stab in the dark, figures the statistics are in his favor.

"Exes," he finally declares, lifts his glass with a flourish and then pulls an affronted face. "The kind who randomly show up on your doorstep with cookies."

[chasinghumanity]

Mitchell's face pulled into an expression of mild disgust, completely unrelated to his shot of tequila. It showed up before the glass was even at his lips, but he downed the alcohol before responding.

"Cookies?" he echoed, looking at the boy with a mixture of sympathy and unease. "That's..." Oh, God, he could completely see Sookie trying that, in the right set of circumstances. "Christ, that's horrifying. I'm sorry."

[wearestars]

Lionel hums resignedly in the back of his throat and takes a sip from his glass. It probably wasn't as bad as all that, but there was always the possibility that Lionel was a masochist. He certainly couldn't claim that his affection for Marshall was a completely good thing, anyway.

"I've decided the nice, well-intentioned ones are the worst."

[chasinghumanity]

"God, they're awful," Mitchell said in drunken agreeableness. He poured himself another drink, still shaking his head slightly. "You want something to hate about them, just to make things easier. But it's hard to hate someone for.. for always smiling. Even if it is annoying. Just makes you feel worse about yourself."

He pulled a face of disgust before the alcohol even reached his lips.

[wearestars]

"Oh god, yours is always smiling?" Lionel pulls a face and shudders briefly as he takes another sip, despite that the drink really isn't that strong. For once, Marshall's cynicism seems like a blessing.

"Wait, wait," he begins again, wagging a finger at the adorable hipster. "I have that beat. Get this: My ex-boyfriend is here but from a time before we were ever together. And now every time I see him, he looks all conflicted and guilty while simultaneously trying to be besties again, like that's not awkward as hell."