Cole rolled his eyes. “It’s not caving. It’s taking pity. You looked absolutely miserable, I couldn’t turn away. I’m nice like that.” He grinned, ducking as Owen took a long drink, downing him nearly a third of the glass. Laughing, Cole reached over to take it back. “Hey, save some for me, you arse.” He complained, as Owen released the straw with a noisy pop. Cole licked his lips and took another drink himself, nearly choking on it in the process of Owen’s answer to him.
"Pre- pretty good? What, like bread and honey is pretty good, or melted chocolate on strawberries is pretty good? Don’t kid yourself, my friend. Pretty good is not the description this drink deserves." He eyed Owen skeptically, eyes sharp as Cole watched him take a drink of his beer and make a face. He wondered if his friend even knew he had made it. But Cole knew he wasn’t fooling him, no way. "Nobody says jolly. It’s not England rubbing off on you, it’s all that tele you watch. You need to get out more." Realizing the irony of his statement, he simply grinned at Owen before taking another drink of his beverage, feeling the heat seeping slowly into his skin as the alcohol slowly started to reach his bloodstream. Fortunately for Owen, at least, it didn’t take much to get Cole drunk. He had no tolerance built up.
Given Owen’s unenthused reaction to Cole’s coworker, he thought against having her come over for a chat. He thought Owen might like her, though they likely wouldn’t end up friends in the long run. They’d be amicable at best. So really he was saving himself the awkwardness of bringing together two people that had nothing in common but him. He laughed outright. “That’s fine by me, I’m not gonna have to taste it. Drink whatever you want.” He remarked, holding up his hands innocently. He laid them back on the counter, swiveling slightly on his stool. He sighed. “Drunk, yeah.” He agreed, making a face at the counter. The unexpected contact caused a shiver to wrack his entire body, and he hunched his shoulders protectively, trapping Owen’s fingers in the pinch of muscle and neck. “Don’t do that!” He exclaimed, squeezing harder. He was ticklish enough as it was, and he really didn’t want Owen to know it.
It was endlessly fun to tease Cole, but Owen knew he couldn't always take it nearly as well as he dealt it, and he bristled a little under his friend's return jibing, even if it was a touch put on. "Whatever man, I never look miserable." That of course was a lie, sometimes Owen felt genuinely too miserable for his own good, he just hoped it never actually showed. Maybe Cole knew him better than he thought, or maybe he was just overthinking everything right now, and this was nothing more than friendly commentary on his lame attempt to man up to drinking Guinness. But Cole's bright laughter had a way of putting a smile right back on Owen's face; even as he sucked a little too hard on that brightly colored straw and refused to let go until he was sure he'd had more than a casual portion of the other man's drink.
Owen could barely keep the wicked sneer off of his pink lips as leaned back and Cole moved in to savor what was left in the glass. "Oh yeah, if not 'pretty good', than what? Better than sex?" It was a baited question, naturally. "I mean, I like bread and honey, and melted chocolate and strawberries just fine, but some things are better than others..." He pursed those still sneering lips. "If you get what I mean..." As far as the rest, all Owen could do was epically roll his eyes; Cole had no right to give him shit about not getting out much, and they both knew it. Besides, there was some damn good television here, and sometimes there didn't seem like much else to do in the dead of the English winter. That wasn't worth arguing over, even for fun.
The very good news though, Cole obviously was a lightweight; not that Owen was surprised by that in the least. That less than subtle flush in his smooth cheeks, the telling sway in his posture; Cole was feeling good, and it was nice to see. On the other hand, Owen was far from tipsy, but he didn't have to be to find the courage to reach out and touch the other man's neck; bold was kind of his style after all. "Do what?" Owen replied with mock innocence, glad to have his fingers momentarily trapped where they were; Cole was only making it harder on himself, or easier, depending on how you looked at it. Owen wiggled his fingers, short of being able to fully tickle at the sensitive flesh beneath them, but enough to get the idea that Cole was probably one big baby when it came to being tickled. Bonus.
"Ohhh, this...oops." Owen finally slipped his fingers away, back to holding his beer and taking a long, cringing sip, but his grin remained bigger than ever. Maybe having a few more people over here with them would add to the party, but as far as Owen was concerned this was far more fun. "I think you need at least another one of those, and then we should see what they've got ringing on the jukebox." He notched his stubbled chin over towards the coin operated gizmo in the corner of the pub; it was a nice reminder of America. "I wanna see those dance moves." He took another sip, careful to quickly add: "And hey, maybe your friend over there does too..."
