09-29-2013, 07:48 AM
Watching Jensen choke down the shot was painful. He did not scorn the man like the barkeeper, Tony just sat in silence. It was surprising, he never thought that the man would actually cave in to his casual demands.
That look in his eye, just before he had started coughing up a lung... This poor bastard truly despised himself. For so long Tony had only had to look in the mirror to find such intense self-loathing.
Perhaps that's why he didn't simply get up and leave him to his miserable thoughts. Instead, he ordered another round for them both, even though the man was clearly uncomfortable.
"It will always taste like shit,"
he said as the barman poured another drink, gesturing at the clear liquid with his free hand. "Don't try and drink it, just pour it down your throat."
It didn't exactly make sense, but he wasn't in the mood for elaborating on drinking methods.
To make up for his shitty explanation, he lifted his own shot glass in a mock toast and demonstrated, the fire running down his throat little more effect than the fizz of icy beer. He could feel the warm buzz rising, but faded into nothingness compared to the drug that lurked at the back of his mind.
"My work demands...flexible hours,"
Tony spoke in answer to Jensen's question. It was hard to ignore the way the man avoided his gaze. What did he see that was so terrifying? Was he ashamed of his...impulses? Tony had no idea what people thought of sexuality these days, and he didn't really care. When he developed the mysterious powers that had seen his family destroyed, it was hard to summon up the hypocrisy to condemn a man for his preferences.
Tony repressed a weary sigh, he had no idea why he was a fool for hopeless causes. He passed Jensen the re-filled shot glass with a smile. "Another tip: never drink alone. I won't say it changes the taste, but it makes the hours pass faster."
That look in his eye, just before he had started coughing up a lung... This poor bastard truly despised himself. For so long Tony had only had to look in the mirror to find such intense self-loathing.
Perhaps that's why he didn't simply get up and leave him to his miserable thoughts. Instead, he ordered another round for them both, even though the man was clearly uncomfortable.
"It will always taste like shit,"
he said as the barman poured another drink, gesturing at the clear liquid with his free hand. "Don't try and drink it, just pour it down your throat."
It didn't exactly make sense, but he wasn't in the mood for elaborating on drinking methods.
To make up for his shitty explanation, he lifted his own shot glass in a mock toast and demonstrated, the fire running down his throat little more effect than the fizz of icy beer. He could feel the warm buzz rising, but faded into nothingness compared to the drug that lurked at the back of his mind.
"My work demands...flexible hours,"
Tony spoke in answer to Jensen's question. It was hard to ignore the way the man avoided his gaze. What did he see that was so terrifying? Was he ashamed of his...impulses? Tony had no idea what people thought of sexuality these days, and he didn't really care. When he developed the mysterious powers that had seen his family destroyed, it was hard to summon up the hypocrisy to condemn a man for his preferences.
Tony repressed a weary sigh, he had no idea why he was a fool for hopeless causes. He passed Jensen the re-filled shot glass with a smile. "Another tip: never drink alone. I won't say it changes the taste, but it makes the hours pass faster."