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wisteriasdrawingagain · 10 months

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🌻 A Drunk Dance 🌻

🌻⚡️PUNKFLOWER BAND AU⚡️🌻

how creative

so the six (yes im including gayatri are you crazy) are part of an anonymous band dunno how it works and they wear these cool masks on stage and stuff and they on tour in AUSTRAAAAALIIIAAAAA WOOOO KANGAROO DIDGERIDOO BOOMERANG ESHAY KOALA 🔊🔊🔊‼️‼️‼️

hobie has already told the gang how he feels about miles except miles (doesn’t really?) feel the same way. at least he doesn’t think so until LATTTTERRRRRR

anyways this is part one and they go to a bar that actually exists irl wowowoow and they yknow get drunk n stuff and

LAYLA. NOT LYLA. IS A REALLY TALL IRISH BARTENDER WHO IS ACTUALLY ONE OF MY FRIENDS WHO WANTED TO BE A REALLY BIG IRISH BARTENDER IN ONE OF MY STORIES SO THERE YOU GO LAYLA. YOU GOT UR BARTENDING ROLE.

they all around 21-23 in this

NOW READ.

🌹 — 🌹

Late at night on a train to the city from the hotel.

Bickering about dinner choices and pricey meals. It was their first night here, celebration night. There was no way to get out of an expensive meal and a crap tonne of alcohol. He didn't drink too often. He didn't like not having a clear head. And he didn't want anything to accidentally slip out.

Pavitr groaned from behind his seat. "But it's so expensive! We don't have to eat gourmet on the first night, Gayatri!" She rolled her eyes at him. "But we don't! There's plenty of cheap food! We don't have to go to a place that's $90 per person!!!"

Hobie hummed from beside him. "I agree with Pavi. M'not eating fancy." He told them. "I am up for drinks, though."

"Oh c'mon, Hobie. We're not doing anything at all tomorrow. Even if we don't drink we'll still wake up at midday." Gwen rested her forearms on the top of her seat, facing Pavitr, Gayatri and Margo behind them. They just got off their plane and were completely sick of plane food. Miles wasn't going to complain about eating a gourmet meal if it meant he didn't have to pay for it.

This time they were touring somewhere Miles had wanted to go for a while. Australia. (of course its australia i have not been to enough countries to write about any other one and plus none of them live here lol and i got plenty of aussie places to write about)

He'd heard lots about it, but he'd never actually been. "Pleaassee??? Most expensive place first???" She pleaded.

"We aren't going to Madame Wu! You can't pay for all six of us who eat like vikings!" He glanced at Hobie. "Maybe not him, but the rest of us do! He just picks off our plates." He mumbled that last part.

Gayatri groaned and rested her head back against the seat. "Uugh... fine. At least a little expensive?" She asked him.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. Gwen made a gagging sound and Hobie elbowed her. "Okay, maybe a little expensive." He said softly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She smiled at him.

"Ew. Couples." Hobie raised his elbow and she put her hands in front of her. "Woah, woah! Not again, not again! I've learned! Trust me!" He slowly lowered his elbow and she put her hands down.

"I agree with Gwen. Keep the smooching for the room." Margo complained from next to the pair.

"Oh no." Hobie interjected. "I am not letting you two kiss it up in our room."

"Yeah, me neither." Miles said. He gave a quick glance out the window. The group continued to argue about places to eat at in the city, most of the choices being Asian food. All sounded pretty good, though. He cleared his throat, silencing Pavitr and Margo in the middle of trying to persuade one another to eat their chosen restaurant.

It didn't take long to get themselves off of the (definitely not clean) train and step out into the bright lights of the city before them. Graffiti scattered across walls, paintings lit up by dying sunlight occupied others. Writing he couldn't read, a drawing of something he didn't want to name, a painting of some animals. And a bird. A Kookaburra? He liked those. He took his phone out and snapped a couple of pictures of both the graffiti and the painting. For his personal account.

The six of them were on tour in Australia as a group of musicians whose identities were yet to be revealed to the public. How they managed to not be found out was a miracle. A Web in Bold. The name made sense. At least to them. The first name suggested for a band wasn't even a name. Pavitr just yelled 'spider' sounding way too confident in it. Then it branched on from there. Miles was Crimson Spider, Hobie was Spider Punk, (which he was against, it took some convincing) Gwen was Ghost Spider, Pavitr was Indian Spider, (was going to be Spider Man India but everyone thought it was too long) Margo was Spider Byte and Gayatri was Golden Spider. (Pavitr chose the name, she was obsessed with it.)

They wore masks on stage, but not those kind that are like beanies for your face, more like a Carnevale mask. The masks they had changed a lot. Usually depending on their most recent piece. This time their most recent music (an idea from Hobie) was the Crimson Storm. Their masks showed what part of the storm they were. Miles was the eye, Gwen was the thunder, Pavitr the lightning, Hobie was the rain, Margo was the wind and Gayatri was the clouds. Of course all of it had meaning, but now wasn't the time for anything more difficult than choosing a restaurant to eat dinner at.

"Ooh! Phat Boy!"

"Fat Boy? Jeez. Harsh." Miles commented.

"Phat Elephant!"

Miles raised an eyebrow. "Damn. Restaurants are mean."

"No, no. It's P-h-a-t." Pavitr corrected him while Hobie and Gwen stifled their laughter. He shot them a particularly nasty glare and they looked away, trying to look completely innocent. "There's Fat Noodle? This time f-a-t."

"Eh, nah." Hobie said, shaking his head. "M'not giving money to people who body shame noodles." Miles scoffed.

"It's not body shaming, it's describing." He told the punk. (🤓)

He hummed in response. "I guess it depends how ya say it, yeah? Saying it like a bitch would say it would be body shaming. And that's kinda what I imagine these people say it like." Pavitr tilted his head and Miles shrugged.

They continued walking for a bit before Gayatri told them about a Malaysian restaurant nearby they could eat dinner at. "We won't get drinks there, though. It closes at 8:30pm." She added.

"How expensive is it?" Hobie asked. Of course.

"It's on me."

And almost immediately Hobie started forward, rubbing his hands together. "Okay, so where is this restaurant?"

—

He sat in the booth alongside Hobie and Gwen with Margo, Gayatri and Pavitr on the chairs. No matter what Miles would always dibs the booth seats and never the chairs. Chairs were just wildly uncomfortable to him. Hobie had his arm around Miles while he attempted to scoop the Lychee out of his drink. To Miles surprise, the punk had a massive sweet tooth.

"Good idea for an album, Hobie. But I am surprised that you wanted to write sappy love songs like that." Margo flicked her eyes to Miles for a brief moment, and he couldn't understand why.

He also didn't understand why Hobie hissed "shut up" at her either. He guessed it was probably because he didn't want their identities to drop itself in public. But it might've been something else because Pavitr gave him a wide grin and he groaned in response.

"Anyway, what do you think we should do after we nurse our hangovers tomorrow?" Margo asked the table.

"Ooh! There's a place about an hour and a half from here that has a beach and stuff! We can have a beach day!" Gayatri suggested, clasping her hands together in front of her. "And we can force those four into clothes they don't want to wear." She whispered to Margo at her side, who responded in a chuckle.

"I'm willing to wear whatever you want, Gayatri." Pavitr crooned.

She pushed him playfully and smiled. "Oh, stop it."

Gwen gagged again. Apparently she didn't learn. "Can I force them to get a room?" She said, obviously not impressed with their affectionate display. The group continued to sip their drinks and laugh together, occasionally getting into a heated argument about something trivial like ice cream flavors and the best toppings to have on them.

Tonight was carefree. Tonight they had nothing to worry about. Just music and food. And that's all they ever really wanted to worry about.

Except one. One was thinking of something else. Something different. A body beside him.

Someone.

—

They had their arms around each other, trying to walk as a group and obviously failing. They weren't drunk. Not yet, at least. If they were like this when they were sober, who knows what was going to happen when they were drunk? "And I got attacked by a pigeon! But pigeons aren't that vicious so it just shatted on my shoulder. Shatted? Shitted?"

"Pigeons are great. Shit on the rich! Steal their food!" He stumbled and the rest of the group went down with him.

"Hobie! Watch it!" Gwen tried to hit the back of his head, but was too far away to do so. They laughed together. It was free. It was good. It was nice.

Now they were calling out and laughing their way to the bar they decided on. They looked pretty much insane to anyone that passed them. Tripping over and giggling themselves silly. They're very stupid.

"Ah... So where we goin'?" Miles asked the group.

Margo pointed ahead and said "It's an underground bar in Rowes Lane. Miss Demeanor." She told him. "I heard it's pretty quiet down there so we'll be fine to do whatever." Well, considering the bar was underground and in a pretty hidden spot, he couldn't imagine that there would be many people hanging around there.

They got a bit of a shock when they rocked up, though.

The bar had a small doorway surrounded by a bright beautiful painting of a woman in swirls of colour spray-painted everywhere. Above the doorway a neon sign read "Miss Demeanor" and under it "Laneway Bar".

"Yeah. Nobody's gonna be here. Nobody's even going to see it." Margo said.

Miles somewhat disagreed with her. It wasn't in a particularly popular spot, but the painting made it noticeable. He snapped a picture of the painting around the door and the painting littering the walls inside. Another woman, more bright splashes of colour. There were more words scrawled on the walls that read "Miss D" and "Visa" and some other stuff. The wall opposite the paint and crazy colours was plain bricks and concrete. The door down the stairs was covered in paint and was thrown back against the wall, open and inviting.

“Damn..." Hobie muttered from in front of him.

He grinned and followed the others down into the underground bar.

(ive never been to this bar before but the paintings looked cool and whatever so yeah now im writing about it)

The bar was full of people. How? Why? No clue. People littered most of the tables and booths, chatting and munching away at whatever food they decided to order. Fancy drinks sat on their tables, pink, orange, red, blue.

Neon signs and laminated pages hung on the walls that said some stuff about drinking laws and whatnot. A nice song played in the background of all the chatter and Miles recognized the song. Terrified. Childish Gambino. Cool. The song wasn't actually being played live, but it looked like whoever was playing was taking a break. Nice taste.

(ik ik my taste is sooo good man/hj even though i dont think any bars in brissy would play anything from my playlists 🙄)

"Ugh, what?" Margo sighed, looking quite disappointed at the amount of people in the bar. Bodies pressed up against each other, swaying and sipping their drinks, laughing and calling to each other. So much for the "please be mindful of our neighbors" sign. The very tall lady at the bar didn’t seem too happy about the noise, either. Hobie stepped beside her and shrugged.

"There's and open booth. Why don't we just take that and suck it up, mm?" Margo rolled her eyes and followed him to the open booth, (Not reserved, they checked) the rest of the group tagging behind the two. He let the rest of the group into the booth before sliding in next to Miles, lazily throwing his arm behind the latter. "Aight. What we gettin'?" Too many options for the indecisive and messy brains of young musicians. He'd said internally.

"'Poor Unfortunate Loser.'" Gwen read out. "Hah. Sounds like me." The rest of the table was too busy looking through fancy cocktails to pay any mind to her, but she earned a chuckle out of Hobie.

"Sounds emo to me." Gwen shot him a glare from across the table, yet he only smiled in return. "Whatchu gonna get, Sunflower?" He asked, leaning on Miles and peering at the list of drinks.

He snorted. "Sunflower? Where'd that come from?"

"I dunno.” He fiddled with a ring on his finger. “Ya like a Sunflower. Yeah, luv? Anyway..." He flicked his eyes back to the menu.

"Oh, right. Ehh... I dunno. Nothing strong." He answered.

Across the table, Pavitr groaned. "Party pooper. C'mon Miles..." He said, scraping his hands over his face. "It's party night! You gotta have something strong! If not, down 10 cruisers!"

Hobie stuck his tongue out. "Ew. Cruisers taste like straight cordial."

"Cordial?" Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"Y'know. Juice. Water-flavouring." (water flavouring... that deserves a slow clap mate) He wasn't bothered to explain what he meant by 'water-flavouring', so he just let it be. "Right, tell me whatcha want. I'm goin' up to order." They went around the table, each of them ordering some random expensive sounding cocktail until it came around to Miles.

"Uhh..." He looked around the table then down at the menu. He didn't really care for drinks. He cared more about food. "I'll just uh... have whatever you're having." He told Hobie.

"Hm? Really, mate? Ya sure?"

"Yeah, yeah." He said, literally having no idea what he was asking for.

"Mm... Okay. Pav, come up and help me carry the drinks back, yeah?" Pavitr tilted his head. Hobie furrowed his brows and beckoned him to follow, causing Pavitr's eyes to widen and him to slide out of the booth.

"Whose gonna tell him that they serve the drinks?" Miles asked once the two were out of earshot.

"Ah, yeah. I don't think that's why he asked Pav to go up with him." Gwen mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ear and looking away from him.

What?

—

Pavitr waited next to Hobie while he ordered the drinks from a very tall, (taller than Hobie) Irish woman called Layla. Pavitr couldn't understand a word the woman said because of her accent, but Hobie managed to communicate with her fine. "How did you understand any of that?"

"Eh. It's not that hard."

"Okay, okay. Anyway, what did you actually call me up for?"

Hobie sighed and slumped against the bench, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right..." He folded his arms and Pavitr gestured for him to spill it. "How am I supposed to do this?" He asked quietly.

"What? Don't tell me you wanna back out..."

"No, no. I want to. I'm not backing out. I just... What am I supposed to say to him?" Pavitr put a hand on his shoulder.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you're even asking me... cuz... y'know. You got that natural charm, yeah? Obviously not like mine, I scored a model that looks like she just dropped down from hea— Okay, I'll stop." He scrunched his face at the other. "What I mean is, just do what you usually do. You're cool like that. It's charming. He'll totally be interested."

Hobie didn't trust a word he'd said. "Right. Yeah. Thanks but I'm at the point where my brain will short circuit and just won’t do that anymore."

Pavitr gave him a puzzled look. "What? What do you mean you 'won’t do it'???"

Hobie groaned, a hand covering his eyes. "I dunno." He shrugged. "I just can't. This is insane... I'm starting to get nervous around him!!" He hissed.

"Woah.." Pavitr whistled. "Hobie Brown is nervous? Woooow.... You are down bad!" He groaned and leaned over the bench, face in his hands. "Ha. This is fun."

All he got was a muffled "I hate you" in return. "Shoulda asked Gwendy up here. You suck." Pavitr put his hands up in surrender.

"Hey, hey. I can't give advice but I can give shit."

"Yeah. And you can't take any." He punched Pavitr in the shoulder as he passed him to go back to their table.

"I can too!" He called after the punk that was in no way, shape or form listening to him.

They both slid back into the booth casually. Hobie leaned his arms on the table and Pavitr rested his head on Gayatri's shoulder, her fingers sliding into his soft hair. Seeing them like that made a kind of jealousy pool into his gut. Not good, not good. You can wish for a relationship with one of your best mates without being jealous of another one, Hobie. This was never going to work. All this flirting he tried to do never really worked. Miles was as dense as a bloody brick wall. The boy hardly ever paid any mind to how physical Hobie was with him, nor how his voice changed and his words were softer when he spoke to the other.

How are you dumb and smart at the same time, Morales? "Hobie? You feeling okay, man?" That boy. Ew. He was worried about him. How... nice. Oh fuck. I am down bad for him, aren't I? Why did I have to fall for a brick?

"Yeah, yeah. Just er... thinkin'... 'bout... stuff... yeah." He replied. Real smooth, Casanova.

"About what?" He once again shrugged.

"Yeah, Hobie. About what?" Gwen leaned over, a devilish grin on her face.

He leaned back in his chair and scrunched his face a little bit. "Nunya. Butt out, Gwendy."

"Or what?" She shot back.

He fiddled with a ring on his finger. "Or I'll kick ya ass. That's what."

"Mhm. Yep. Okay. I'm not willing to fight a skyscraper today." Hobie snorted.

"Oh! Oh! You should've seen the Irish lady at the bar! She was super tall! Taller than Hobie!" He snapped his fingers. "What was her name...?"

"Layla." Hobie answered.

"Oh, yes! Layla! I couldn't understand a word she was saying. It was like another language, bro."

"No it wasn't."

"Uh, yeah. To you. Most of the time we all just nod along even though we have no clue what you're saying." Gwen elbowed him.

"Quit spilling!" She hissed at him.

Hobie rolled his eyes at the pair before shifting his gaze to the boy beside him. For some reason, he wasn't expecting the boy to be staring right back at him. "Why'd Pav go up with you?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah. That. We were just talkin'." He replied.

"Oh. Cool." In that moment, the music that played in the background switched off and a guy sat himself on a chair in front of everyone, an acoustic guitar resting on him. The guy announced himself, the song he was playing and whatever else. He strummed the guitar, singing along to a sweet tune that nobody at their table seemed to recognise. A lady came over and handed their drinks to them as they eyed the guy performing. Only judging him a little bit. Miles pushed himself closer to Hobie. "I'm a better singer than him, yeah?" He smiled.

"Don't worry, luv. Ya sound just fine."

"Fine as in better?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." He laughed and shoved the punk playfully in his side.

"Fuck you." It wasn't genuine. He curled in closer and the punk next to him took in a shaky breath. Shit. I'm not drunk enough for this. He exhaled, holding onto his composure for dear life. What was with him tonight?? He downed more of his drink and laid back. He could handle this. He can do this.

Right. He put his arm around Miles and pulled him an inch closer. Pavitr eyed them both, a wide grin across his face. Hobie squinted at him and he backed down, laying back into the leather seat. Gayatri still stroked his hair lovingly. Hobie knew how much they adored each other. Would that ever happen to him? "Hobie. Hobie!" He snapped out of his daydream. "Were you even listening?"

He stayed silent for a moment, half-noticing the face Pavitr was making at him. I'm gonna kick your ass later, Pav. "Sorry, no. What were you saying?"

Gwen groaned. "If you were listening, you would know I asked you if you've ever been to Ireland."

"Ireland? Why Ireland?"

She raked a hand through her hair and sighed. "Because of the lady at the bar. Layla." She gestured to the bar where the towering Irish lady was working. She didn't seem too happy, though. Her expression screamed "I hate my job". Wow. Friendly. At least she's honest.

"Oh. Nah. I've never been to Ireland. She's just not that hard to understand."

"Dude. She was all ‘Get out of me swamp’!”

"Oh, be real." He felt the strange sensation of the body pressed to his side chuckle and he felt warmer. Am I sitting next to a human oven or what?

He sipped his drink again. Whatever he did tonight he was going to blame on alcohol. It was the best excuse he had. He inched closer and rested his head on the boy’s shoulder. It was warm. Pretty much everything was warm to him. He ran cold. But Miles? That Sunflower was different. His warm was different. A good different. And for some stupid reason it made something in the punk ache. He felt like a home-cooked meal. A weird kind of nostalgia filled him. This boy was something else.

God. There was way too many words in his head. Another sip.

Miles stared at his glass. "Ya gonna drink that?"

"Uh- Uhm... Yeah. Yeah. I'll drink it..." He said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. He grimaced as he gingerly lifted the glass up to his lips. He exhaled. Then quickly downed the drink in one go.

"Woah, cowboy." He rubbed a pattern into the other's shoulder as Miles set the now empty glass down on the table.

"Damn, Miles." Gwen mumbled. "Didn't think you'd do that." She blew a lock of hair out of her face as a new song started. "Hey, we should dance."

"Ooh! I wanna dance!" Gayatri said with excitement as she dragged Pavitr by his arm out of the booth. He didn't look particularly thrilled to dance, but he loved his girlfriend so he followed anyway. Gwen waited for Margo to shift her way out of the booth and take her open hand.

"Hobie? Miles? You comin'?" Margo asked the pair.

Hobie stifled a yawn. "Naw. Maybe later."

She hummed. "Alright... Suit yourselves." She began to walk away, muttering something under her breath as she left.

He let that familiar sluggish feeling spread through him as he stretched out his legs underneath the table. The silence between him and Miles was a little awkward, but he didn't mind. He took a quick peek at the guy beside him. Freckles dusted his cheeks and deep brown eyes stared into the crowd of people. God. He's beautiful. So beautiful it almost made his heart hurt. He rested his head back.

Those brown eyes flicked to him. "What did you say?" Shit. Did I say something???

"Uh." He coughed. "No."

The freckled beauty raised an eyebrow before shrugging and turning back to the crowd. "Nice night, yeah?" Hobie lazily lifted his head.

"Mm. Yeah." Miles was staring at the clumps of people around the bar, but the punk didn't want to look at anybody else. He didn't need to. Hobie. Hobie? You're staring, mate. He quickly went to fix his gaze on something else, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Wow. This is going great.

"Hobie? You good?"

He turned back. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Just er... feelin' a little off."

"Why's that?" Stupid prodding questions.

He slouched over, taking another sip of his drink before resting his forearms on the table. "Nuthin' important."

Miles nodded. "M'kay..." He felt like falling asleep. At least if he were asleep he wouldn't say or do anything stupid. He didn't do anything totally stupid yet, but he was on the verge of it. A new song played. "Ooh. I love this song!" He grinned at Hobie.

"Hm? Moonlight, Kali Uchis. Why am I not surprised..." He tapped his chin, pretending to think.

"Shut up. She's great."

He laughed. "Didn't say she wasn't, babe." What? "Babe"? You've got to be kidding.

The smile on Miles' face didn't seem to waver. In fact, he didn't seem to even notice. "Hey, wanna dance now?"

You're gonna fuck this up. Don’t do it. “Yeah.” Idiot.

As he let Miles drag him through the crowd of people, he prayed (for the first time in his life) that someone would save him. He wasn't a bad dancer. It wasn't that. It was the thought of dancing with him that made him choke on his spit. They weaved through groups of people to find the others. "Oh! Miles and Hobie are finally gonna join us, eh?"

"I just like this song." He called to them over the noise.

"Aw! Me too!"

—

A low thrum. A bit too close. A little too many drinks. Up against one another, swinging to an almost hypnotic rhythm. How'd this even happen? One with his head on the other's chest, arms wrapped around his neck. The other rubbing circles into his back, head hanging over his shoulder. It wasn't really dancing. It was just a drunken sway to a nice, calm song. "Mm..."

"Your piercings are cool."

“Hm. Thanks, Sunflower boy. You’re very pretty. Especially in this light.”

“I am? Wooow.” He mused.

Gwen pointed to the pair swaying together under the dim lights of the bar. “Look at those two. Hobie’s doing well.”

“Gwen. I think they’re both drunk.” Margo sniffed. “I think we should go home now. It’s getting late.” It was around 11PM. The bar was open until 12AM on Saturdays, so it would be open for another hour. Doesn’t mean they should stay.

The two pressed up against each other tightly. One craving the heat of the others body because of how cold he felt, the other craving the cold touch of the punk because of how warm he felt. It was a perfect mix. “Oi. Hobie, you drunk?” Gwen tapped his shoulder. He threw his head back to look at her upside down. He drew a long breath in.

“You smell nice.” He smiled.

She furrowed her brows, unimpressed. “Yep. Let’s get you two home.” She sighed, leading the pair that were still holding onto each other for dear life to the stairway. “Pav? A little help?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to get Hobie and Miles to walk up the stairs.

“Oh. Hold on, Gayatri.” He tried to shove Hobie up the stairs. Nope.

“I can walk, mate.” He almost tripped walking up the stairs. Twice. And there was only around 10 steps. Yeah. Sure he could walk.

They didn’t trip that much on the way to the train station. If you’re not counting randomly on the sidewalk, a tiny rock that was nowhere near the size of Hobie’s shoe and Gwen’s foot when she tried to walk next to them. They didn’t let go of each other the whole time, arms across one another’s shoulder, laughing and making jokes that hardly made any sense but were still funny anyway.

They weren’t too loud, which was good. The train was quiet. Not many people were on it apart from the other four and a snoring man. The pair whispered to each other. “You have a nice face.”

“You have a nice voice.” Hobie chuckled.

“I know, Baby Sun.” His voice was amazing. For some reason it reminded him of the humming strings of a guitar. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was just him. He wasn’t quite aware of what was happening. He wasn’t going to remember this. “Tired, Baby Sun?” He crooned.

Miles nodded. “Mm.” Hobie dug his fingers gently into Miles’ soft curls, pushing his head to the latter’s shoulder. He kept his hand there. It was nice. He was so tired, too.

He rested his head on the boy with his eyes shut. “Oh, no you don’t.” Margo poked his forehead and his eyelids drifted open. “I am not carrying either of you. Wake up, Miles.” She poked his forehead, too. The boy groaned, attempting to bat her hand away and missing entirely.

“But I’m tired…” He complained, pouting.

“I know, but I can’t carry you guys.”

“I’ll carry him.”

“You’re drunk, Hobie.” She reminded him.

He nodded. “Oh yeah. I am.” How does one forget they are drunk? Nobody knows, but Hobie Brown manages to. They fought of sleep with the help of Gwen and Margo poking their faces every few minutes before they arrived at their stop.

They got off, managing to keep stable as they walked back to the hotel. It was quiet there too. Obviously.

“Alright, Pav. Just call us if you need anything. We’re right next door.” Gayatri, Margo and Gwen waved the trio off and slid into their room to rest for the night.

“Alright…” He glanced between the two, still attached. “Just uh… go to bed.” He told them.

“M’kay.” Miles answered rather cheerfully. He was pretty eager to shove his face into a pillow and snore, anyway.

They got into some clothing they usually wear to bed. Not pyjamas. Hobie just wore some home clothes. He never really wore actual pyjamas to bed. He ducked between soft hotel sheets and sunk into the bed, hands laced behind his head as he attempted to fall asleep. Miles flicked the light off and tossed himself onto the bed, not even bothering to drape a blanket over himself.

They weren’t going to remember this.

“Goodnight, Sunny.” He put their foreheads together.

“Night.” Miles welcomed it.

They wouldn’t remember it.

They wouldn’t remember how their legs got tangled as they slept. They weren’t going to remember drinking and swaying together. They weren’t going to remember how pretty Miles was to Hobie.

What a shame. They’d probably want to remember it.

Crap.

🌹 — 🌹

5000+ WORDS

(i’m not rechecking it after editing screw that)

woooo

dogwater

took way too long to write

btw this is only part one. i got more lol.

took way too long to decide on a bar

was gonna go with death and taxes but miss demeanours vibe was just better yknow

btw the restaurant they went to was Papparich