We in the limo drunk

[mo_cara]

WHO: Gamzee Makara and Eridan Ampora
TONE: Goofy and drunk
RATING: R for language and teenage boy makeouts
WHEN: Easter hols
WHERE: Gamzee's house
WHAT: Teenage boys hanging out and being dorks and also getting drunk off Gamzee's dad's liquor
STATUS: Ongoing


Gamzee had been pretty excited the entire way home with Eridan. No one ever really came to his house to visit, let alone stay for a whole holiday. Once they'd gotten off the train in London, there had been a long bus ride to Wales, in which the taller Slytherin had happily shown Eridan all his Muggle stuff that wouldn't work at Hogwarts, especially his CD player, and then promptly tried to make the other boy listen to as much ICP as he'd tolerate. It was the happiest the strange boy had been in awhile - everything was so weird with Karkat and Tavros, but Eridan was pretty straightforward. Confusing, sometimes, because Gamzee didn't know what he was talking about, but pretty easy to read, and a good friend.

His da picked them up at the bus station, and turned out to basically look like a miniature, old Gamzee who cut his hair and never smiled. His son had about five inches on him, but they had the same long face, same long nose and dark hair, same oddly loose limbed stance. The man was very polite to Eridan, but also very solemn, and Gamzee made an initial effort to tell his da about school, what they had done, all of that, but eventually lapsed into silence. It wasn't that Mr. Makara wasn't listening, he just ... never said much of anything back. Only nodded.

He was out of the house most of the time the boys were there, 'working', Gamzee said. He was a fisherman, and seemed uncomfortable around his own son, like he was never really sure what to do with him. The Slytherins were left to their own devices most times, except for supper most nights, and forbade from going down to the sea - the Makaras lived in a modest house overlooking the gray ocean. Which meant, of course, one night when Mr. Makara wasn't going to be back until morning, Gamzee immediately got into the liquor in the kitchen and suggested they go down to the beach, even though it was already dark.

"It's kind of motherfuckin' cold, but you can borrow a coat, bro!" he said enthusiastically, as he poured a generous slug of bourbon into a glass.

Comments

[yerawwizarderi]

Anybody else probably would have called Eridan a difficult houseguest. He put on airs constantly; he pretended he wasn't interested when he was, furtively poking at the CD player while trying not to be obvious about poking at the CD player and also complaining loudly about the quality of the music and expounding on his own feelings about how magnets worked ("By fuckin' magic, obvviously"). He complained about the bus, and the train, with his face pressed to the window the entire time, and his whole posture was stiff and awkward like he wanted to relax and couldn't bring himself to. Like playing a part, on the stage, a role he didn't exactly feel comfortable with and hadn't studied for properly.

But it was always better down by the ocean. The easing up came involuntarily, and for once he wasn't immediately trying to shy away with whatever potentially strong drug Gamzee was about to pour down his throat. It just smelled like firewhiskey, and he'd always sort of wanted to know what that had tasted like-

"It's the fuckin' ocean, I know how cold it is," he groused, shrugging himself into a coat anyway and trying to stand on tiptoes to see just what Gamzee was fuddling around with. "What have you go, is that Ogden's or somethin'?"

[mo_cara]

"Nah, it's-" The taller boy consulted the bottle, "Knob Creek. You want some?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pushed the glass across the counter to Eridan and started to pull on his own coat, taking a pull off the bottle directly, and then tucking it in his pocket. "I think it's motherfuckin' American or something."

Gamzee wasn't exactly a liquor connoisseur. Whatever got him drunk was good enough for him. And damn, but it sure seemed like Eridan needed to relax.

[yerawwizarderi]

Given the choice to be seen as hardcore and cool by his friend, or show off how unbelievably unsure he was about anything Gamzee offered him given his background, Eridan chose to take the drink. And then silently gag and cough at the strength of it behind Gamzee's back.

"You're so fuckin' wweird," he said, his voice a little strained from the heavy drink. "Is this wwhat you do all the time? Just hang out on the fuckin' shore and drink American swwill?"

[mo_cara]

"Kinda, I guess?" Gamzee said, shrugging. "You know, and like the other shit we been doing. Movies and music and in the summer it's motherfuckin' sweet to just walk around or down to the village. And rap or play video games or sometimes I like to make shit. Like we can do eggs if you want!"

Gamzee loved to paint eggs. He usually painted some pretty strange shit on them, but with no siblings and a father who thought everything he did was a little strange, there was no one to tell him he was doing it wrong. He took a pull on the bourbon bottle and grinned at his friend. "I made, like, a motherfuckin' million of 'em last year, and gave 'em to the sheep and fish and shit."

[yerawwizarderi]

"What, like, scrambled and everythin'?" He'd have thought the egg painting rather weird himself, and declared so loud and vocally before doing it anyway because. Well. What else was there to do around here but what Gamzee could think up? "And you just go see those films all the time, like, whenever you want? Just like that?"

Muggles, man. How do they work? If Gamzee ever told anybody he really cared, though, he'd have some harsh fucking words for his friend. Who probably would shrug and not give a shit. Gamzee was so weird, it was hard to say when he'd actually care or not, which frustrated Eridan. When he had something to say, he wanted there to be impact.

[mo_cara]

"Nah, like, whole! You got to be boiling the eggs to paint them, though, because otherwise that shit gets everywhere, and then, you know, your hairy gets all motherfuckin' stiff and nasty and there's yellow on shit, which is okay? But later it be all smelling weird and shit," Gamzee explained in his rambling way.

"But yeah, we can watch whatever we want. I mean, what's on the VCR." Gamzee's father hadn't bothered to upgrade to a DVD player, so the movie selection they had was rather dated, not that Eridan would know. "The theater ain't open past 11, though, and I don't think it plays shit in the morning, either. I dunno why, because man, sometimes I be getting my urge to watch some fine film in the a.m., and also eat that satlywet popcorn because they be using the real cow butter."

[yerawwizarderi]

The more Gamzee talked the less Eridan felt he understood anything about what was going on here. But he tried, hopelessly, to keep up, and valiantly to find some way of making sense of it all.

"Right, so, why do the cows get painted eggs? Is this some kind of Muggle superstition?" And could they just get to the sea now, and go swimming?

[mo_cara]

Gamzee took a last pull of the bourbon bottle, and then stuck it in the pocket of his coat. "Nah, not the cows, I give 'em to the motherfuckin' sheep and fishes! I don't think ain't nobody else what does that, though. I just don't got no one else to give the eggs to, and maybe them sheeps get all lonely and feel left out for Easter. I mean, we eat their motherfuckin' babies and shit. You gonna finish drinking that?"

[yerawwizarderi]

Eridan stared at him. Then he stared at the drink. Then he tried to toss it down, and nearly spit it up all over his coat, and wisely chose not to say anything at all about presenting sheep and fish with painted eggs, because there were a lot of arch, insulting words he could think about that.

"Let's just get out of here," he spluttered, trying not to choke or let Gamzee see how his eyes watered behind his glasses. "I'm ready for some fuckin' air."

[mo_cara]

"Sure thing, bro," Gamzee agreed cheerfully, and apparently oblivious to Eridan's spluttering (or kindly ignoring it), he led the two of them outside, and to the little rocky path that lead down to the beach. It was actually a nice stretch of coast, and while there were a lot of rocks here and there, they made for good seats. The tide was mostly out, though slowly starting to make its way back in and not far from where the path emerged from the scrubby bushes was a firepit that had obviously been used not too long ago.

[yerawwizarderi]

It wasn't like Greece, where the beaches were nothing but white sand and sparkling blue water. The rocks were new, and Eridan climbed over them as they proceeded down to the water, looking around for pools or anything to play in. Down here, he seemed much less tense, much more animated and eager, already starting to strip off his coat and his shirt and dump them on the sand to go out into the water.

"Not bad," he admitted.

[mo_cara]

Because of the rocks, there were multiple little tide pools, thick with limpets and crawling with tiny crabs. Gamzee marched over to one immediately, overturned one of the rocks onto the sand, and scooped up a couple of the bitty things, watching with delight as they crawled over his long fingers in a bid to escape. He glanced over at Eridan, stripping off his coat and shirt in the brisk spring breeze, and smiled to himself, toeing off his own shoes.

"Yeah, it's pretty motherfuckin' chill down here."

[yerawwizarderi]

Despite himself Eridan shivered in the wind, just briefly, before he started fumbling with the button of his pants. The bourbon had hit him harder than he'd thought it would (being small, and thirteen, and naturally a light weight for strong alcohol), and it made him clumsier, less careful with himself and the self-conscious way he might normally carry himself. He just shoved them right down his hips and kicked them off, boxers and all.

"And there's no one who's goin' to see if I go swimmin', right?"

[mo_cara]

"Just me," Gamzee agreed, and his eyes swept up and down Eridan's naked body with lazy interest, before he took another pull on the bourbon bottle, then shoved the bottom down in the sand to keep it upright. He pulled his own coat off and his shirt over his head - apparently they were going swimming! Which he wasn't supposed to do, his da was always warning him off doing it, but if Eridan was going to get in, he could hardly let his friend go alone, could he?

[yerawwizarderi]

Eridan was always going to go swimming. He and Fef had practically grown up in the ocean, together, and he missed it when he was at school in ways he couldn't quite say. It was frustrating to be so landlocked, without any water but the lack, which was fresh, not salt, and not even remotely the same without tides. And so he just ran right into the water, not even waiting for Gamzee to catch up to him as he splashed right into the waves, and dove under.