[O] Girls Night

Patch shook his head pouring Doc a glass of water.

"She told me they were for her and her friend."

He usually never let Deacon anywhere near tequila, it made him....anyones.

Deacon scrunched his nose up at the water and nudged it away from him.

"I dunno what the big deal is."
The Warlock was making himself comfortable, cuddling in against Ian.

"We need to tattoo 'NO TEQUILA UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES' across his forehead. Right here." He drew his finger along the centre of Doc's forehead, tugging at his bright red hair afterwards teasingly.

"What, scared you're going to blood back in your alcohol system if you drink something that isn't below ten percent?" Ian snorted when Doc pushed away the water.

His arm wrapped around the man when Doc cuddled him.

"Drink your water, Dea."

Patch snorted a laugh, he could agree to that, it was always trouble when Doc had tequila.

Deacon rolled his eyes and picked up the water, he wasn't thirsty and the water couldn't look less appealing if it tried.

He took one sip and put it back down.

"Happy mom?"

He asked, relaxing back against Ian.

"Okay one, the day I become your mom is the day you start living a sober, wholesome life."

He jostled the man in his lap.

"And two, not at all. Drink the rest." He said it in such an experienced exasperated tone that he sounded more like a mother than ever. He'd played this game so many times with Doc that he had the scolding down pat.

Deacon looked down at the glass of water with distain.

Like ripping off a bandaid he took the glass and chugged it, downing the whole thing in one go to get it over and done with.

"My stomach is too full."

He grumbled, all that liquid made him feel bloated and gross.

"Give it a few minutes to settle and you'll be fine."

He patted the top of Doc's head affectionately, like one would an obedient puppy.

"Want me to drag his ass upstairs so he doesn't come begging for more?" he asked Patch with a tilt of his head.

"Yep, he's cut off for the night now, you know how he gets."

Flirty would turn to pissed off and he would end up having a hissy fit by the bar, it was best to put him to bed.

Deacon looked between the two of them as they talked about him.

"Right."

He nudged Doc off his lap and stood, fishing for his wallet. "Thanks Patch. See you around." He laid down enough to cover both his and Doc's tab on the bar, then turned to the warlock.

"Key," he demanded, holding his hand out.

Deacon got to his feet with a little wobble, looking around as Ian paid their bill.

Fishing through his pockets he pulled out his keys, dumping them into the shifter's hand.

"I can take myself upstairs."

He could already hear the scolding he was going to get tomorrow morning for taking those shots.

"Uh-huh. Go walk over to Aodh and Zeke over there and back without stumbling, and I'll let you take yourself upstairs."

Aodh and Zeke were sat in a booth about ten feet away, chatting and laughing over their pints.

Doc didn't stand a chance.

Deacon narrowed his eyes and focused on his task.

He walked slowly but shuffled through the pub toward their table, everything was going well until he actually had the turn around, the change in direction threw off his balance and he stumbled backwards, tripping over into the older Lycan's lap.

"Evening handsome."

Doc purred with a grin from his position, laid across Aodh's lap.

"And he just looked up at Aeker, and-" Aodh cut off when the Warlock fell into his lap.

He looked down at him with an arched brow for a moment. "A Scot falling in me lap. Never thought I'd live to see the day."

Ian was lifted Doc out of Aodh's lap before he could do anything stupid to the engaged man, or his married nephew. "Sorry, someone let him get hold of the tequila. C'mon, you bloody idiot, lets get you home."

As Ian carted Doc towards the door, Aodh began singing behind them.

"Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked that he’d drunk more than his share
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street"

Just as Deacon went to open his mouth to make a flirty come back to the lycan he was hoisted up out of his lap.

The Warlock smirked and nuzzled up against the Shifter.

"I was doing good until that whole last bit."

Deacon didn't resist as Ian carted him away, flipping off Aodh as he sung.

"Sure." Clearly Doc was doing great.

The path up to Doc's place was familiar under his feet. Even that patch of the stairway that he really wanted to avoid because no one had ever quite been able to get up that gross stain and he didn't want to risk standing on it.

He held Doc up with one arm, and wrestled with the keys with the other, until the apartment was open and they could stumble through it.

He reached out on instinct to stroke the old cat on the windowsill, but withdrew with a frown when he wasn't there. Right, he'd died. Dea had told him that.

Deacon used Ian as a crutch as he walked up the stairs, humming to himself idly as they went.

Once in the apartment he stumbled over to the kitchen counter, leaning up against it.

His smile dropped a little at the sight of Ian moving to pet the old flea ball.

"I should adopt another."
He muttered, the apartment was lonely with out a cat lazing around.

"What, decided against keeping me as your kinky shifter pet? Should I be insulted or pleased?" he teased as he followed Doc into the kitchen.

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Doc.

"I'm still all for it."

He replied with a laugh.

"But then I realised you wouldn't want to live here and then I would be stuck with a cranky racoon trying to bite me all the time."

Deacon sat up on the counter, swinging his legs, the tequila put him in a good mood.

"Raccoon?!" That was worse than calling him chubby.

"I'll give you blood raccoon!" Ian advanced on Doc, inserting himself between Doc's parted thighs to keep him in place, and attacking his sides with his fingers.

He didn't let up with the tickling even as Doc's body jerked and writhed.

Deacon snorted a laugh as he smiled over at Ian.

His smile faded and eyes widened as Ian assulted him with tickles.

"Ian no! NO!'

The Warlock doubled over in laughter, squirming in a bid to get away from the man, his hand pressed against his chest to hold him back.

Soon enough tears pricked at his eyes as he laughed.

He kept tickling until Doc was going blue in the face.

"Bloody raccoon. Can a blood raccoon do that?" he laughed, hands falling to Doc's thighs.

"I'm a Bilby and proud, bitch"

By the time Ian let him go Deacon could hardly breathe.

Tears rolled down his face as he laughed so hard his sides hurt.

"You dick."

He managed between chuckle, wiping his chin of the tears pooling there.

Ian was chuckling, too, as he watched Doc wipe away tears.

"Being a dick's better than being a raccoon."

He shook his head. "At what point did you think that I was actually ever going to let you call me a raccoon without some form of punishment, huh?"

Deacon wiped the remaining tears away with his sleeve as he slowly tried to calm down.

He knew that his little dog would end up getting him in trouble but teasing Ian was too much fun to be able to pass up an opportunity.

"This feel like old times."
The Scott muttered, leaning his head on Ian's shoulder. It was hard not to get sucked into how they use to be, even now it came far too naturally for him.

Ian froze up at the comment, his shoulders tense for a moment when Doc leaned against him.

But he relaxed after a beat.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "It does."

Feeling Ian tense against him made a small smile grace the Scott's lips.

He didn't want to ruin their newfound friendship by pushing Ian too far, the man had left for a reason.

"I should go to bed..." Before I do something stupid.