Continuation from fagsona thread

[bleedingeffect]

The other patrons seemed to be just as drunk to notice or care, which Desmond noted with a small feeling of relief. It's not like it was uncommon, anyway, and he had no one to prove himself to as it was. (Except maybe the waitress, who constantly teased him that he he needed a girlfriend.)

"So, eleven," he reminded Shaun. "And don't forget your tab before we go, pal."

Though Desmond had half a mind to make the asshole who ruined his wingman plan pay for Shaun's tab, it'd probably get him fired. He could pay for the girls' drinks, though...

Continuation from fagsona pt. 2

[dontaddwater]

Altair hopped down from his own horse, tying him to the opposite post. He untied his bags, tugging a fruit out of one of them, holding it out to his horse. It began to eat it enthusiastically, nipping bites from it until it was down to the core itself.

"It was... difficult," he said, the admission itself difficult. Altair ran his free hand down the horse's mane, trying to distract himself from a conversation he didn't want to have.