"Okay, Jedao, listen." He shifts to turn to face his friend fully, splaying his loose hand as he talks. "I'm not gonna read you the riot act for getting drunk with a few friends, alright? But for your sake, since you really don't sound like you've ever gotten plastered before, think you could do me a solid and remember what kind of bottles? Beer, mixers, rum or whatever? It's for your own good."
Okay he needs to just. Bury his face in his hands for a moment, with a muffled, "Oh my god."
He drags his hands down, pressing them over his mouth and nose for a moment as he inhales, then plants both hands on his knees in what he thinks is a very serious 'Don't Do Drugs, Kids' preschool cop look.
"Jedao, one liter-bottle of vodka is thirty standard drinks. Did you drink those bottles solo, or did you share them?"
"Okay- Jedao, you gotta make me a promise for next time you go drinking, alright?" He puts a hand on Jedao's shoulder. "Next time when everything starts getting all, like- tingly and soft like your brain's getting stuffed full of cotton balls and everything just seems really awesome? That's when you gotta stop. Okay?"
"Because that's the point we in the industry call 'tipsy'," he says, and it comes out surprisingly concerned rather than patronising. "And when you hit that point, you can stop, enjoy your buzz, have some harmless fun? And not get a hangover. If you keep going..."
His hand moves higher, to try and coax some of Jedao's bed head back to Earth with gentle combs of his fingers as he talks. "You get this. You don't know when to stop, and you might get hurt. Or hurt someone else, but not realise it because you're too drunk to remember."
"Hey, hey hey, easy-" He stops brushing Jedao's hair to grip his shoulder again, giving him a firm, if worried, look. "Deep breaths, champ, relax. What are you talking about?"
Eiffel's eyebrows go right up, and he pulls his hand back to cover the shitty little smile on his face. There's a lot of conflicting emotions here, but part of him can't help the biggest one being Get it, Buster Brown.
"Is that right?" He manages to wrangle his smile into something more appropriate to the mood, but now he's invested. "Who's the lucky guy saying yes to your moves?"
"I can still tell," Jedao mutters, gesturing at the futility of Eiffel's hand over his mouth, while turning, if possible, even brighter pink. He's so torn, because Eiffel is careless sometimes, and it's private, and it's probably going to all fall apart before it really starts when Jedao can force himself to confess, but - but -
It feels so normal, gossiping to a friend, a kind of normal he's never had but has a nebulous sense of nontheless, and Eiffel doesn't seem to think it's a disaster anymore, and - he just wants to. He wants to tell his friend.
"Um. Gonou."
(Fuck. He knows they're friends. Is he going to lose Eiffel too, when it all goes down in flames? He should want Gonou not to lose anything else to him - after everything you took from me - he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, banishing Dhanneth's last accusation.)
That gets a surprised blink, and a moment's pause as he has to do some quick mental refiling of Gonou. Nothing bad, just... different.
"Well, I dunno who I was expecting, but hey. As long as you were both into it." And at least they're the same actual age, part of his brain pings helpfully, and Eiffel's own cheeks flush a little. "S-so, does that mean you two are a thing now? Or was that just- y'know, testing the waters." He gives Jedao a look that's meant to be a stern sort of dadly look but falls a bit short. "You're not a heartbreaker, are you?"
He thinks both of them are fairly - invested, although the thought doesn't make it to his mouth.
As long as, indeed. Jedao tries once again to banish thoughts of Dhanneth, but then Eiffel asks if he's a heartbreaker and he can see the twisted ruin of Dhanneth's face, feel the hot blood spattering on his own -
"I'm going to take a shower. You do something useful." He stands up. "Water the plants."
He walks to the door into the other rooms, and adds without looking back, "Not too much."
"Wh--?" But then Jedao's already gone, and Eiffel is left alone in the lounge with no idea what he did wrong. The conversation had been going well, he hadn't even gotten a chance to do any real teasing yet!
...also he has no idea where Jedao's watering can is, so. When he hears the shower start he's gonna give the lounge a quick poke-around before he tries maybe the kitchen instead?
The kitchen has the particular pristine quality of a room that has never been used, except to make tea. The red-and-gold tea set clashes with the dappled greens of the decor, beautiful with filigrees and flourishes but still having an unmistakable air of being a mass-produced standard set.
There are a few staples in the cabinets that have never been opened - a full bag of rice, jars of pickled cabbage in the fridge. The only thing that has been opened is a box of Kel ration bars, with labels in a script that resembles, but isn't, hangul.
Jedao is back in two minutes, covered again from chin to wrists to ankles as always, finger-combing his wet hair. He grabs one of the ration bars and scarfs it down in about three bites.
Okay that was an unfairly fast shower, and Eiffel jumps like he got caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Because maybe he did pocket a ration bar to try later, you don't know that.
"Engine-? Oh, yeah--" right the entire reason he called "--uh, yeah, big red flashing light of doom and despair on the door, maybe twenty minutes ago?"
But he makes sure to grab the drink bottle again for Jedao before he leads the way to the elevator; inside which is already thrumming gently from the vibrations lower down, and by the time they step out it's tangible in the floor, and Eiffel grimaces at the bass thrumming.
"Ugh, you can feel that in the goddamn bone," he mutters, rubbing his jaw with his free hand as he moves towards the engine.
"She's panting like a dog," Jedao murmurs, his hand trailing along the wall as if to soothe the barge itself. He doesn't know why he said that, either, since he doesn't know anything about dogs.
"I hear a dog hawking up a lung like this, I'm calling the ASPCA," he mumbles, falling in half a step behind Jedao on sheer autopilot. "When I made noises like this I needed a hole popped in my lung."
"I'm not-" He looks faintly offended, under the thick top layer of guilt. "I'm not being mean, I'm worried. I've- I know she's not the same as Hera, but I've seen Hera pull stunts like this and it was bad for her."
He brushes a hand on the wall between two cabins, apologetically.
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"It didn't taste like anything."
So nice.
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Well, not true. His mouth opens and closes a few times in disbelief.
"...vodka," he repeats, a bit weakly. "Straight?"
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He takes another sip of his water, faintly contemplative.
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He drags his hands down, pressing them over his mouth and nose for a moment as he inhales, then plants both hands on his knees in what he thinks is a very serious 'Don't Do Drugs, Kids' preschool cop look.
"Jedao, one liter-bottle of vodka is thirty standard drinks. Did you drink those bottles solo, or did you share them?"
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But he definitely finished them.
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"Okay- Jedao, you gotta make me a promise for next time you go drinking, alright?" He puts a hand on Jedao's shoulder. "Next time when everything starts getting all, like- tingly and soft like your brain's getting stuffed full of cotton balls and everything just seems really awesome? That's when you gotta stop. Okay?"
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“Why?”
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His hand moves higher, to try and coax some of Jedao's bed head back to Earth with gentle combs of his fingers as he talks. "You get this. You don't know when to stop, and you might get hurt. Or hurt someone else, but not realise it because you're too drunk to remember."
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"No! I didn't - he wanted to, he said so, he - I remember, I remember it!"
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"I didn't hurt anyone," Jedao insists, not at all relaxed, but at least slightly quieter due to sheer mortification. "We just kissed, it was nice."
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Eiffel's eyebrows go right up, and he pulls his hand back to cover the shitty little smile on his face. There's a lot of conflicting emotions here, but part of him can't help the biggest one being Get it, Buster Brown.
"Is that right?" He manages to wrangle his smile into something more appropriate to the mood, but now he's invested. "Who's the lucky guy saying yes to your moves?"
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It feels so normal, gossiping to a friend, a kind of normal he's never had but has a nebulous sense of nontheless, and Eiffel doesn't seem to think it's a disaster anymore, and - he just wants to. He wants to tell his friend.
"Um. Gonou."
(Fuck. He knows they're friends. Is he going to lose Eiffel too, when it all goes down in flames? He should want Gonou not to lose anything else to him - after everything you took from me - he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, banishing Dhanneth's last accusation.)
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"Well, I dunno who I was expecting, but hey. As long as you were both into it." And at least they're the same actual age, part of his brain pings helpfully, and Eiffel's own cheeks flush a little. "S-so, does that mean you two are a thing now? Or was that just- y'know, testing the waters." He gives Jedao a look that's meant to be a stern sort of dadly look but falls a bit short. "You're not a heartbreaker, are you?"
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As long as, indeed. Jedao tries once again to banish thoughts of Dhanneth, but then Eiffel asks if he's a heartbreaker and he can see the twisted ruin of Dhanneth's face, feel the hot blood spattering on his own -
"I'm going to take a shower. You do something useful." He stands up. "Water the plants."
He walks to the door into the other rooms, and adds without looking back, "Not too much."
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...also he has no idea where Jedao's watering can is, so. When he hears the shower start he's gonna give the lounge a quick poke-around before he tries maybe the kitchen instead?
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There are a few staples in the cabinets that have never been opened - a full bag of rice, jars of pickled cabbage in the fridge. The only thing that has been opened is a box of Kel ration bars, with labels in a script that resembles, but isn't, hangul.
Jedao is back in two minutes, covered again from chin to wrists to ankles as always, finger-combing his wet hair. He grabs one of the ration bars and scarfs it down in about three bites.
"You said we had an Engine Room situation?"
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"Engine-? Oh, yeah--" right the entire reason he called "--uh, yeah, big red flashing light of doom and despair on the door, maybe twenty minutes ago?"
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"Okay, let's go."
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But he makes sure to grab the drink bottle again for Jedao before he leads the way to the elevator; inside which is already thrumming gently from the vibrations lower down, and by the time they step out it's tangible in the floor, and Eiffel grimaces at the bass thrumming.
"Ugh, you can feel that in the goddamn bone," he mutters, rubbing his jaw with his free hand as he moves towards the engine.
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He brushes a hand on the wall between two cabins, apologetically.
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