#you KNOW how to access that part of my brain with the queer quartet and old pubs/taverns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

non-un-topo · 1 year

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queer quartet prompt: arm wrestling in ye olde pub 👀

fghfdsfg thank you Rae, this one was so much fun!!

“What’s happening over here?”

Having sensed Andromache’s presence far across the stuffy, dimly lit pub, Quỳnh only had to open her hand for a wooden tankard to then be placed there. She smiled in thanks, and linked her arm with Andromache’s the moment her lover exchanged hands to lift her own ale to her lips. Because if she did not lock her in, Quỳnh knew she would go running across the floor towards the growing crowd in a heartbeat.

“Oh, Athena’s tits,” Andromache sighed, as expected. Quỳnh chortled into her ale, sending foam spraying into her eye.

“I leave for a moment,” continued Andromache, “and they’ve caught the attention of the entire pub!”

Quỳnh politely did not comment on her ancient lover’s resemblance to a grouchy crone.

“You know how they get when inhibitions are lowered,” she said. She felt rather comfortable from where she stood and watched, to be honest. There was never a dull moment with their little undying troupe.

Ahead, a crowd of sweaty patrons were challenging the sticky summer heat to cram in together around a small table. As voices raised and cheered, ale splashed to the warped wooden floor around them. It was an awfully intense scene for what was going on. That was, of course, the boys — Yusuf and Nicolò — engaged in an arm wrestling match that definitely did not require that much eye contact.

Their hands were steady — they rarely ever shook — but with their left hands they each gripped the sides of the little table with such force Quỳnh honestly expected it to fly off its wobbly legs. If that be the case, she knew, they’d just continue to wrestle until one of them lost or they got… distracted.

Judging by the subtle break of eye contact as Nicolò dropped his gaze down to the wide open collar of Yusuf’s shirt and Yusuf’s eyes focused on Nicolò’s bicep under his rolled-up sleeve, Quỳnh did not expect it would take long from there.

“They’ve been holding on a while,” she praised, in any case. Naturally, given the number of years they’d both spent swinging swords around. There was really only one way to end this game quickly, hence the reason she still had Andromache’s arm trapped in her own.

“Release me,” Andromache commanded, of course.

Quỳnh snorted and tugged her closer. “Why should I? Perhaps we can ask these friendly patrons to place bets, and then we can purchase all the ale we want tonight!”

“You make a fair argument…”

“Of course I do, I carry the brains of this entire family.”

Andromache attempted to playfully stamp on her foot but Quỳnh dodged her boot with ease, taking a measured sip of her ale and exclaiming a pleased, “Aah,” at the taste.

“Tired?” Nicolò asked then, in his low voice. Oh, that tone. Perhaps this game would end sooner than Quỳnh thought. “You could always let go and end this now.”

“Never,” hissed Yusuf. Sweat poured down his temple like liquid gold in the candlelight. Quỳnh watched as he flexed his fingers, gripping Nicolò’s hand somehow tighter.

“I think they are playing the stranger game,” muttered Quỳnh, in Andromache’s ear. Andromache startled herself with a laugh, then turned it into a frustrated groan.

A man in the crowd shouted something, rooting for Yusuf it sounded like, and others joined, mugs raising over their heads. The very air about them smelled of sweat and tension.

Yusuf grinned then, showing teeth. “Sounds like you’re losing, handsome thing.” Then he winked.

With a resigned Alright, Andromache downed the last of her ale and tossed the tankard to the floor — for which Quỳnh would later scold her. After all, people did not live like barbarians anymore, Andromache. But in the moment, Quỳnh hid her shocked laugh in her mug and watched with wide eyes as Andromache stalked up to the table, sleeves rolled up to her armpits.

The crowd quieted as she loomed over the table and, after a swift glance over each of their faces, Andromache looked down at the boys and declared, “Allow me to show you what real strength looks like.”

They let go, ending the match just like that, and they both looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

Yusuf raised his hands. “Now wait, Androma—”

But it was too late for him. Quỳnh sipped on as Andromache seized his hand and tensed every muscle in her body. Yusuf cried out, more of a squawk really, as Andromache slammed his hand to the table in a matter of seconds. The crowd exclaimed in shock.

As poor Yusuf rubbed his bicep and shouted very dramatically for Nicolò to flee, Nicolò stood from his chair with a wooden screech. Andromache did not spare him the same honour — instead, she simply took him by the arm and with a great, steady huff she flipped him over the table.

The silence that followed was so stark, Quỳnh could hear the delicate little tinkle of a man pissing himself across the room.

The boys scooted towards each other on the floor, a little shaken and rosy-cheeked. Quỳnh simply finished the last of her ale and nodded to herself, accepting the craziness of her little family.

Affectionately, and certainly out of place to the patrons watching but perfectly in place to Quỳnh’s eyes, Andromache ruffled the boys’ hair. She raised her hands then, speaking to the crowd,

“Drinks are on me!”

#sage writes #tog #the old guard #ficlet #the old gays #don't! draw! attention to yourselves boys!!#i hope i didn't make andy too mean sdfgfd sometimes she has to lay the rules down but she loves them #anyway idk why i'm in a goofy silly mood but i guess i'm in a goofy silly mood #you KNOW how to access that part of my brain with the queer quartet and old pubs/taverns #absolute tomfoolery the lot of them

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