New Roommate

[Pearce Lockheed]

Pearce chuckled. "Not everything is better drunk," he observed. Maybe that was a little hypocritical to be saying right now but he believed it. As for Briella's magic...that he knew nothing about. He'd had a guess, but nothing as solid as he did for Zander. Mostly it was based on the assumption that magic was tied to bloodlines.

He liked it when Zander snuggled close to him, used him as a pillow or comforter. It felt good. Admittedly, he wasn't sure why the redhead was laughing but...it wasn't important.

"Yes," he said immediately. Zander described them like unfortunate events but... "Weather is...primal. Visceral. Powerful. Arousing." He grinned a little stupidly pleased with himself. "Also cause I love you..." What was sentence structure and sense anyway. "You can make tornados?"

[Zander Brogthamon]

"Says who?" He responded teasingly with a snicker. Of course there were things much better done sober. For instance it was much harder to train while intoxicated. Still, there were things that were much more fun drunk. Like sitting on your boyfriends lap while his annoying cousin roams the manor.

Hearing him talk about his magic was confusing. Most people that had seen his work in action said it was terrifying, dangerous, destructive. Though he couldn't help the way he grinned when he said he loved him. The question about making tornados though made the redhead feel a bit more selfconscious. "I've only done it once and it made me so tired I slept for almost two days." It was the first time Zander saw his father try to lay hands on Briella. He wouldn't stand for it. After that day Jaskier never attempted to hit her again.

"My mother said the day I was born the skies were clear, the weather was fine, then suddenly it began snowing." He chuckled a bit.

[Pearce Lockheed]

There were certainly exceptions. The nobleman preferred to remember all the times his boyfriend sat on his lap, however, annoying cousin or no. But he had to admit, Zander's laugh was infectious, especially after multiple drinks.

"Remind me not to make you mad, hmm?" Pearce said, leaning into to kiss Zander's neck. Part of him was hocked at the situation, anxious knowing anyone could enter the room and if that anyone was the wrong anyone he wasn't sure if he could handle it. He wasn't used to his family being around despite wanting them around more. But not at the expense of his relationship with Zander. It was a catch-22 of his own making.

Still, the very much drunk part of him was winning. "Three days is a...very long time to go without sex," he said in an almost conspiratorial tone, voice low and gruff. "Or a lot of cuddling."

Pearce frowned at the mention of snow. He didn't like snow. It made things wet and muddy. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say up against the miracle of someone's birth. "It didn't snow when I was born," he said instead. Because it had been early autumn and he wasn't magical of course. "If it...storms when you're afraid...what does snow mean? Can you pour me another drink?"

[Zander Brogthamon]

"I doubt you could ever make me that mad." He said confidently with a snicker. The idea of going three days without sex, or cuddling, was agonizing enough to make him groan and shake his head. "I don't even want to think about that." Though the way his voice sounded made him shiver.

Zander didn't particularly like snow either. Briella loved it but every time he thought of it all the redhead could think of was blue fingers, shivering so hard his teeth clattered, and becoming horribly sick. "Well it wasn't supposed to snow when I was born either." He chuckled as he poured them both another drink. As he handed one of the glasses to the noble Zander thought for a moment.

"I haven't made it snow in some time. Well at least not from my emotions. I certainly could if I focused on it." He said with a shrug before taking a drink.

"I know it becomes sunny when I'm happy or excited. It rains if I'm irritated, frightened, or sad. Thunderstorms if I'm terrified or really mad. Becomes very windy when I'm aroused." He laughed at the idea of admitting that to Pearce.

[Pearce Lockheed]

Had they talked about birthdays? He was positive they had talked about birthdays he just...couldn't remember right now. He felt a little fuzzy but not entirely drunk. Which was why he had asked for another drink when he probably shouldn't have but that was a judgement call he was no longer prepared to make. He felt a lot better than he had a little bit ago. A lot less anxious. A lot less stuttering.

"Autumn. You are an autumn baby," he guessed, even though he should know the answer. He'd actually meant to wait on getting the redhead a dog until his birthday but clearly he had no self control. He blamed Celeste. And those chickens. Entirely.

Pearce nodded attentively as Zander went down his list. Mood, that made sense. He chuckled as he mentioned strong winds equating to arousal. "Your hair is really attractive...in a good breeze," he agreed, downing half his drink before he realized what he was doing. Maybe he shouldn't. But his own comment distracted him. "Do you like it when I touch your hair?" Entirely more direct and blunt than he ever intended to be.

[Zander Brogthamon]

They had in fact talked about birthdays. At some point. Though that was hardly important right now. What was important was that they were close. That the redhead could snuggle with his boyfriend and have a drink. Though he had a feeling he should probably cut the noble off soon. The man wasn't as heavy a drinker and already had heart problems. The last thing he wanted was the man getting sick.

The idea that his hair looked good in the wind made Zander chuckle. "Who's to say that's not a ploy to get your attention?" He teased with a grin as he pressed playful kisses against his neck. The question however made him pause. "I like when you touch my hair. It feels good." He stated very confidently.

He pulled back to take a drink from his glass and thought for a moment. Of course his hair was a fairly sensitive subject. Most people weren't allowed to touch it at all. "No one else is allowed to touch it. Except for Briella but that's because it makes her happy." His sister loved toying with his hair when she was sad or anxious.

[Pearce Lockheed]

It wasn't a common occurrence, him drinking so much. Or at all really. It did make the cuddling even better though, at least at the moment. Pearce had a feeling he would regret the choice later but that was a problem for future Pearce to deal with.

The Pearce of right now was very happy to make this last as long as possible and took a long drink from his glass with one hand and pulled Zander close with the other, his hand wrapped around his waist possessively. "It is working," he noted, smiling with a small blush at the kisses. Ploy indeed. "You...always have my attention, Zander," he added. Most of that was understandable.

The answer made him only more confused but he didn't know how to say anything. It was getting a bit difficult to make his thoughts make sense. "I like touching your hair," he eventually settled on, finishing that glass and setting it aside so he could stroke the young man's hair.

"I...want to lie down. With you." He stumbled throigh the words, somewhat recognizing he should finish his mental break elsewhere. Maybe without so much drinking. "Or another drink." Or maybe not.

[Zander Brogthamon]

Zander wasn't very much keen on talking about why he didn't like people touching his hair. The gentle tingling feeling running through his body was making things easier though. His mind felt a little fuzzy but he was still sober enough to recognize things. Like Pearce needing to take a break from his drink. "My father used to drag me out of my hiding places by my hair a lot. He was also a redhead so it...reminds me just how much I'm still connected to him." As much as he didn't want to be.

Hearing that he always had Pearce's attention made him grin confidently. It was nice to hear that the man probably thought about him as much as he thought about the noble. "Good, I want all of your attention." He said with a soft laugh. That was mostly a joke.

As Pearce began to stroke his hair Zander felt his entire body relax. It worked faster than drinking ever did. He leaned into the touch with a content sigh. The suggestion to lie down sounded nice. Though as the man asked for another drink Zander chuckled and shook his head. "I think you've had enough for now. You're going to make yourself sick."

[Pearce Lockheed]

From the fight that had broken out days prior and the fact he hadn't asked sooner, it was apparent Pearce understood Zander found the topic uncomfortable. He would love to take credit for planning to ask the young man while inebriated but that would be giving him too much credit. The hope was that he remembered this part of the conversation at least and didn't need to ask again.

He hummed slightly in a sad understanding. "My father...did a lot of things to me I don't like..." But even a few drinks in, that wasn't easily accessed territory. "You don't...seem anything like your father." Redhead or not.

It was highly doubtful anyone could think about someone more than Zander thought about Pearce. But Pearce did think about Zander a lot. Sometimes at inappropriate moments. Sometimes with steamier intentions and sometimes as a friend that he loved and admired. "You have it," he mumbled, kissing Zander's cheek with a grin.

"Don't...don't laugh at me," he stumbled through the words a little, somewhat slurred though clearly trying to enunciate on purpose, as if that added an element of command Zander couldn't say no to. "I am head of this house and I...if I wanted a drink..." He could have one. But he couldn't figure out how to finish the sentence. He pursed his lips in reconsideration. What did he want again? Oh, yes. "I want to fuck you."

He probably wasn't capable of that. Let alone walking.

[Zander Brogthamon]

Zander was more or less aware Pearce's father also hadn't been a good man. Though neither of them had gone terribly in depth of their childhoods there was enough to know Pearce hadn't known gentleness when he was young either. When told he didn't seem like his father all the redhead could do was simply nod. He fought with every fiber of his being not to be anything like Jaskier. To be gentle and charming and trustworthy. To treat his sister and any other woman in his life with respect. It was why his blood boiled when he saw men giving women unwanted advances at the tavern. Or if he heard someone talking disrespectfully about his commander.

That train of thought was interrupted when Pearce told him not to laugh. It only made the redhead snicker more. The way he tried to enunciate properly and keep his voice from betraying him. It was adorably amusing. "Of course, of course." He teased biting back another chuckle.

When he heard what Pearce wanted to do Zander couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "Pearce, I don't think you could get it up right now. Or even get up off this couch on your own." He stated between chuckling. Still, he peppered the mans face in soft playful kisses before moving off the man to stand up. Though slightly wobbly he wasn't nearly intoxicated enough to not be able to move. Given there'd been times he'd walked home on his own plastered. "Let's go lie down." He stated as he offered him a hand up.

[Pearce Lockheed]

His face was flush with embarrassment and drink, not necessarily in that order. But he nodded when Zander acquiesced to his order not to laugh. It didn't matter that Zander was in fact still laughing, the 'of course' had made all recognition of laughter vanish. Like magic.

He had to think really hard about Zander's words. Get what up? Whatever it was, it didn't matter, he didn't like being told what he could and could not do and he would inform his dear Zander of this fact. Politely.

Pearce shifted Zander to grip his shoulder and hold him at arms length. "Zander." He got his name out well enough, the tone of a loving father scolding a child for something he couldn't possibly fault him for. "I think...I could," he said. And then he deflated a little. "I don't know what we're talking about..." he admitted. "I think you mentioned lying down...? Not...not here though..."

He let go of the boy long enough for him to stand and the hear him suggest they lay down again. Was he okay? He was repeating himself. Pearce took Zander's hand and used it to pull himself up. At which point everything started...rocking back and forth and he felt like he might throw up. He swallowed. He really didn't want to throw up.

Clearly knocking back three drinks in as many minutes and then one more was not going over so well.

[Zander Brogthamon]

Honestly was this man trying to tempt Zander into getting him drunk more often? The fact that he openly admitted to not knowing what they were talking about was enough to solidify his decision in his mind. "I'm not having sex with you while you're drunk." While he may not have been entirely sober himself he was much more accustomed to drinking a lot quickly. His tolerance had been built up slowly but steadily over the years.

"I told you you'd get sick." Pearce was sixteen years older than him but Zander scolded the man like a child caught doing something he shouldn't have. He wrapped one arm around the nobles waist while he wrapped one of Pearce's arms around his shoulders. "Let's get you in bed before you make a mess."

Slowly, as to not unsettle the mans stomach, Zander led him upstairs to the bedroom. "I'll get some water and a bucket." He stated softly as he set Pearce gently on the bed. He pulled himself away from the blonde long enough to go to the door and call for one of the staff. When he'd asked for the things he needed and they ran off to get them the redhead came back to the bed and affectionately ran his fingers through the mans hair.

[Pearce Lockheed]

Sex. Right. Of course. "That's...quite gen....gentleman..." Word. There was a word he felt like he almost said. "...of you. Sir." He was, rather hilariously, very in the mood. "Zander wouldn't say no. I should...ask him." Still attempting very dedicatedly not to sound like he was slurring his words. He was putting in a valiant and pointless effort.

He toyed with Zander's collar while the young man helped him stand. Pearce shook his head at the idea of getting sick. That he of all people might get sick. Nope. Negative. Not possible. He wouldn't stand for it. Well, he couldn't stand so...

Sixteen years older or not, he was not an accomplished drinker. Not with brandy. Not when he was forcing himself to do something out of the ordinary. And Zander had encouraged him. Walking wasn't so bad as standing. At least going somewhere gave him direction and made him less dizzy. It was all rather nice, having his arm over Zander's shoulders and Zander's around his waist.

"Where-" he cut himself off to swallow and breathe. "Whereyou taking me?" So much for enunciation. He tripped over the first step on the stairs and then got his free hand on the railing and that seemed to ground him a little

A bucket. Why did Zander need a bucket? Pearce's stomach tried to flip over and he closed his eyes. "I...need a bucket," he mumbled, dizzy and sweaty and hoping his stomach settled now that he was sitting again. He lean into Zander's touch and relaxed with the fingers through his hair.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He should know better. He was lucid enough to know that. Better about what exactly... Pearce wasn't a sappy drunk, he wasn't about to cry, but he was regretful. And forgetful. "You're adorable. I know...I know I said you can't sleep with me but...I...really need you to." The words all made sense to him but Zander probably needed a moment to process.

[Zander Brogthamon]

At the suggestion that 'Zander' wouldn't say no the redhead laughed. Normally under any other circumstance he wouldn't have said no. He'd have jumped at the opportunity eagerly. But he wasn't going to have sex with Pearce, or anyone for that matter ever, while he was drunk. The idea felt wrong. Like he was taking advantage of someone who couldn't think clearly. It had never settled right with him.

"I'm taking you to bed." Though that may have given the opposite idea of what he'd said earlier. Still, it was fun listening to Pearce slur and stumble over his words.

When he began to apologize Zander was going to say he didn't need to. That there was nothing for him to apologize for. When he began talking about needing him there though the redhead blinked for a moment in confusion. Finally the sentence processed and he couldn't help but smile. He pressed a kiss against Pearces cheek and smiled. "I'll stay with you." Though he wasn't sure how long that would last. Once Pearce was sober he would probably tell Zander he couldn't stay right?

A soft knock on the door made him stand reluctantly and make his way over. He took the glass of water and the bucket from the staff with a quick 'thank you' before closing the door again. He set the bucket on the ground next to Pearce while he held the glass of water in his free hand. "You gotta sit up to drink this." Perhaps he should have asked for bread too. That would have helped soak up some of the alcohol in his system. Later.

[Pearce Lockheed]

It was perhaps odd that it was Zander being the cautious responsible one but that was a good thing. Hearing he was bring taken 'to bed' was a contradiction that he didn't understand, but he trusted Zander.

"Thanks," he mumbled, not entirely sure what he had said but if it meant not feeling sick to his stomach or stresswd then he was happy. Pearce debated laying down on his bed but he wanted to stay close to Zander and his comforting touch.

He didn't hear the knock, only knew Zander had pulled away and he frowned, tried to get up to follow but his legs still didn't want to work. He watched the boy bring back the bucket and the water.

Pearce shook his head. "No...no I don't want anymore." The bed was comfortable though. He wanted to curl up and go to sleep on it with Zander. He inched his way back toward the pillows. The movement didn't do his stomach any favors though so he stopped and gestured for the bucket. It was inevitable that he would vomit. Even without alcohol in his system it was what his body defaulted to when he was stressed. Well, that or fainting.

It was still early evening and there was still dinner, as he had told Percival. But Pearce hadn't wanted to attend. And if he took a nap...well, the staff would regrettably inform the rest of the manor residents that the lord of the house was indisposed.