dontgetintherobot | IC Inbox (Noctium) WIP

[ after this drunken text thread here ]

[ It takes Ezar longer than it maybe should to get to Alfonse's place; he knows the city pretty well, but he is also extremely drunk and too cheap to call some kind of cab service. He ends up teleporting several random places and then wandering around, knocking on the doors of a few innocent people, before he finds it.

He leans one shoulder against the doorframe, seriously disheveled his shirt half unbuttoned and hair coming out of its braid, and offers a drunken grin when the door opens. ]

Hey~!

[Alfonse shouldn't have been surprised when he opened that door. He really shouldn't have... and yet here he was...

He absolutely should have gone to get the man.

Not that there was anything to be done about it now, aside from leading him inside. It was a simple studio apartment. Neat in a way that only a military brat with too much free time on his hands could accomplish. The only thing that showed the place was lived in normally was a few blankets near some books on the couch, and a well used kitchen- which happened to have some freshly made cookie-dough.]

Hello, Ezar. Here come in, have a seat.

[And he's just going to lead the man to the couch so he can immediately get him a glass of water, and hope that whatever Eorzean gods he prays to have mercy on him in the morning.]

I was just about to get the cookies in the oven when you got here- uneventful trip I hope?

Edited 2022-07-16 07:40 (UTC)

[ Ezar slumps bonelessly on the couch in a borderline indecent sprawl that only someone who is feline could manage. ]

Yeah, was a nice walk over. A really long walk. Longer than I thought.

[ Because he got lost.

He takes a sip of the water and then regards the glass suspiciously. ]

Alfonse... dunno how to tell you this but... your booze sucks.

That's because it's not booze.

[And Ezar is getting a little pat on the head before he goes back to the kitchen area to finish up those cookies. He did promise them after all, and all he's got left to do is put them on the baking sheet.]

Anyway, I don't suppose you have any preferences as to what cookies you like before I commit them to the oven? They're just chocolate chip thus far.

Edited (I just woke up don't @ me) 2022-07-16 16:44 (UTC)

[ He tilts his head at the head pat, then directs a suspicious look at the glass in his hand, as if it has personally betrayed him. ]

...oh. [ A long pause as he tries to think this over. ] ...why?

[ A question only someone that drunk could ask. He brightens at the subject changing to cookies. ]

You got peanut butter?

Because it will make your day better tomorrow, I promise.

[Probably no avoiding a hangover at all at this rate, but even a slight relief is still relief. He'll just take a moment to look through his cabinets at the mention of peanut butter and lo and behold! He's got some!]

I do! Give me just a moment aaand- [Give him a moment to look up how much to put into the dough... measuring it out... and in it goes!] There! Ready to bake!

[ Ezar laughs, letting his head fall back. ]

No such thing as a good tomorrow.

[ He raises the water glass like he's toasting with it, but he does take a sip. ]

You're not gonna be sorry. Peanut butter cookies are the best. Shame we don't have 'em at home.

I never guaranteed it would be a good day, just a better one without the mother of all hangovers weighing on you.

[He set the timer and sit down next to Ezar on the couch.]

Can’t say I’ve had them, but I believe you. You might laugh, but I’ve just been eating the peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon.

[ Ezar is often of the opinion that waking up at all means it's going to be a terrible day, which is why he drinks so much. He's feeling good enough about having a handsome man who is making him cookies that for once, her does not voice that thought. ]

Nothing wrong with that.

[ Whomst among us... ]

's also really good if you make it into a sauce for noodles.

[ With Alfonse sitting there, Ezar shifts position to lean rather bonelessly against him, head resting on his shoulder, fingers trailing lightly over his thigh. ]

Lots of fun stuff you can do with peanut butter.

[Ah, there was something rather sweet about Ezar just mindlessly flopping on him, and Alfonse put his arm around his shoulder to help keep him steady.

Then the thigh touching and ah. Ah. Well he'd just use his free hand to hold onto Ezar's. Sportively. As endearing as the other was, they didn't know each other well, and he wasn't about to take advantage of a drunk man.]

I'll look up some recipes for it, but only if you stop by and promise to try them.

Never said no to a free meal, eh?

[ He is going to interpret the hand holding as a good thing, really. He's drunk. This sign can't stop him because he can't read. So he stretches up from his slump as much as he can to lightly nudge Alfonse's jaw with the bridge of his nose.

Perhaps very lucky for Alfonse that he's tall enough for his mouth to be out of easy reach. ]

Can send you what I've knocked together if I remember it.

[Oh the nuzzling was… kinda cute? It got a little smile out of him as a bit of color came to his cheeks.

Well, Alfonse went to reach for the blanket to cover his friend a little. If he was feeling cuddly, that might help him nestle in and get comfortable.]

I would appreciate it. What other foods to you like? I can give them a try as well.

[ The blanket is also a wise move, because between that and Alfonse having his hand, he doesn't have a lot of room to squirm around and try to be even more inappropriate. Perhaps it's another symptom of how drunk he is, but it's also enough to divert the single of track of his mind from horny to oh this is nice. ]

Like makin' fish. Cause I fish a lot. Cakes. Lemon cake's the best. Pies...

[ Under the blanket, he insistently squirms into Alfonse's lap, but only so he can rest his head against the man's chest, cuddling in. His tail half wraps around the man's leg.

Imagine being able to sit like this with someone, he thinks drowsily. Imagine. And there might be just a little hum he's making low in his throat that sounds like a purr. ]

[Oh? Oh dear was he-

…

Was this what it’s like having a cat? Was it racist to think that about a Miquo’te? Was he purring? Could Miquo’te purr?

Well this was actually… very sweet. He’d just tuck that blanket around Ezar nice and cozy, and start rubbing his back. He’d just let his questions remain unanswered and focus on this instead.]

Lemon cakes and pies, huh? Sounds like you have a thing for sweets.

Edited (DON’T BRING ME INTO THIS AUTOCORRECT ) 2022-09-12 07:55 (UTC)

[ Alfonse gets an answer to his question when he starts rubbing Ezar's back. Ezar is definitely purring. He roots his nose gently into Alfonse's pec and answers in a contented mumble that promises the man could easily get him to sleep if that's what he wanted. ]

Sweets 're... all right. Fun to make mostly. People like 'em.

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