I'll Drink to That [Inert/Az] [Casual]

The sour expression on Jack’s face matched the taste of the lager he was drinking – sort of. It tasted mostly like it should have, but considering he had got it on the cheap, the slightly-off flavour was to be expected. The sour expression was merely reflective of how utterly awful his ‘alcoholic beverage’ tasted, and not much else. The night air was cool, the sky was clear – well, for a city, at least – and overall, it was his second favourite kind of night. He’d enjoy it more with someone attractive on one side and some actually decent booze on the other, but he settled for what he could get.

The expression plastered on his face quickly turned to one of apprehension,however, once he felt a particularly strong reiatsu coming towards him. However, true to his code, he didn’t bother suiting up until he had at least tried diplomatic solutions. Diplomatic solutions being him proposing a drink, a good time wherever was convenient, or possibly both. It took all he had not to stand straight up, and take up a fighting stance the moment he saw Kelzian, in fact. However, he softened up a little, upon seeing that the new arrival was pissed-off-his-tits drunk. However, what came next hardened him up considerably.

Jack didn’t even have to try to flirt with the new arrival – Kelzian was flirting with him. He noted that he was drunk, but Jack shrugged this off – it wasn’t the first time he’d had a drunk man. Hell, it probably wasn’t the first time he’d had a Togabito. Somehow managing to keep a straight face while drinking the piss-poor excuse for lager he had bought for himself, Jack adopted a half-smile, and then spoke.
“Cutie, huh? You don’t look bad yourself, handsome. And no, I’m not drunk. But who’s stopping me?”
Jack winked at the man – if this wasn’t going to be fun, he didn’t know what would be.

“Bah, fighting’s for idiots. Make love, not war! In more ways than one, natch. Life’s too short to go around questioning why stuff’s happening. Unless you’re one of those scientist blokes. In which case it’s pretty much your job, I think. What do I know, I’m no science-guy.”
Jack took another swig of his lukewarm beverage, still adopting some sort of sour expression when he downed it. Still, it was alcohol, and if it was going to get him drunk, it was completely worth it. Drunken flirting was his favourite kind of flirting – well, what he could remember of it, anyway.

“Well, my ravishing friend, I came here to look at the stars, have a drink, and maybe sleep under the pale glow of the moon. Of course, I’ve got a much better view right here.”
Jack turned to Kelzian, now swaying a little himself. For some reason or other, he didn’t seem to be handling alcohol that well that night – he didn’t complain, the entire point of him having the lager all to himself was to get absolutely plastered. He just didn’t think it’d happen so fast. His smile wavered little – not enough so that his fellow drunk would notice, but his inebriation was certainly showing.

“You know, you’re not bad, you are. Most people would have just backed away and called me creepy, but you… You’re cool. I like the cut of your jib. Come on, have a seat next to me, the nights get a little chilly around this time of year.”
Jack moved the case away from him, patting the ground where it had once been. His tipsy smile served only to make him seem more welcoming, even if the increased possibility of vomit could act as a deterrent. Still, Kelzian was drunk, and Jack was catching up. Whoever threw up first wasn’t exactly the biggest issue.

“You really want to know why I’m called creepy? Fine. It’s because these humans are all pansies who don’t know how to live. I mean, not that being dead means you can’t be alive, but… Look, point is, they’re all stuck-up party poopers.”
It seemed that the alcohol was beginning to get to Jack’s brain even more now. Not so much that his speech was slurred and he was at risk of falling off the edge of the building, but to the extent that ‘Dutch Courage’ had tipped over in favour of ‘Dutch Silliness’. At the rate he was going, it wouldn’t be long before he went even further.

“And do you know what really pisses me off? How someone can’t appreciate a handsome face like yours… Just because you’re from Hell. I mean, what kind of racist crap is that? It’s twenty… Twenty… Well, it’s the twenty-first century. Wait, scar? What scar? Oh, that. It’s a cool scar, I guess. And… wait, what’s this about lips? You proposing something? I’m not complaining.”
Jack, upon finishing, hiccupped, and genuinely appeared surprised that he did. A tipsy giggle was let out upon doing so, and he patted Kelzian on the back, before rubbing his shoulder, the way one good friend would another. “I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or me talking, but you’re… you’re a great guy. Heck, it’s probably both.”

“I know!” Jack exclaimed, responding to Kelzian when the racist attitude to Togabitos was mentioned, as if he wasn’t the one who had brought it up in the first place. “You guys… I bet you’d be really cool guys, if we just started doing… this… more. Instead, my bosses are all ‘Oh no, you gotta kill off the monsters, hurr hurr hurr’. And that really pisses me off, you know? I mean, when you’re piss-drunk and hornier than a mutant bull, what’s the difference?”
Jack hiccupped again, though this time, it was significantly louder. He wasn’t just tipsy any more – he’d passed into the realm of nowhere-near-sobriety.

Jack stared wistfully into the distance for a moment or two, his inebriated mind processing thoughts that only a drunk person would dare to think. Or could think, for that matter. Whatever the case, it was likely that he was thinking of something stupid. He looked to Kelzian, however, when he drew close and addressed him, with regards to whether something was being proposed or not.
“Feeling a little frisky, are we?” Jack asked, his words slurred and his speech slightly slowed. “I’m in it if you’re up for it, you handsome son of a… You delicious old Togabito, you…”
Jack’s expression was, in a nutshell, strange. It was obvious he was trying to look charming, but the alcohol was having none of it.

Though his eyes were glazed over, and the smell of cheap lager hung on his every breath, Jack’s desire was clear to see – in more than just his distorted expression.
“Hey, I had a team once… called themselves Torchwood… Fun guys, if you didn’t piss them off…”
Jack hiccupped again, though this one was slightly higher-pitched – to the point of it actually sounding a little cute, in comparison to how he normally did it. Jack paid no mind to this, and instead focussed on the fact that, while he normally expected to have to pound Togabitos, he expected to be pounded by one this time around.

Jack raised an eyebrow at Kezian’s question, offense somehow displaying itself on Jack’s face.
“You’re asking me… Jack *hic* Harkness… if he’s ready to get with a sexy beast like you. I haven’t heard a more ridiculous question since someone asked me if I like bacon. Come here, you big hunk of love…”
Jack leaned in even closer, waiting for Kelzian to make the first move. Not that he was nervous – he had been wanting this for at least a week now, and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for anything. No, it was just that, despite usually being able to hold his liquor quite well, Jack was too far gone to make a move without potentially falling off of the roof.

Jack groaned quietly, glad that he was finally getting the talking over with. While it was fun to exchange sweet – and sometimes obscene – nothings, especially while drunk, words didn’t satisfy as much as a good night with a brilliant partner or several could. Jack pushed further into the kiss, though it was worth noting that he was allowing Kelzian to take control. Jack may have been the more sober one, but he’d found that a high level of durability combined with the untamed roughness of a partner with his/her/its inhibitions was pleasurable to a degree that few other situations could really match.

Jack, in response to Kelzian’s hand moving south of the waistline border, unbuckled the Togabito’s belt, in order to make access to… certain regions… easier. He fumbled, yes – this was to be expected of someone who had downed more terrible-tasting beverages than was possibly acceptable, even by most alcoholics’ standards. But, in the end, he managed to get there, and now his thumbs had caught on to the edges of Kelzian’s trousers, there would be little standing in the way of them doing the kind of thing you’d expect two drunk flirts on an empty rooftop would do.
“Come on, big boy,” Jack muttered in between fervent kisses, “Jack Junior wants to come out and play.”

((We going to fade this or do more foreplay?))