Prompt: Buddie and… lava 🌋
I'll Pyroclastic Your Flow
911, Buck/Eddie, T, 5.6k
The floor is made of lava. Which is, like, a metaphor, or something. Who knows? Not Buck and Eddie, they're drunk.
Eddie looks at him closely now, at the loose limbs, the half-lidded eyes and relaxed pull of his mouth. “You’re drunk,” he concludes with a scowl. “I’m drunk,” Buck agrees. His smile slips, dangerously close to a pout. “And you could be too, if you weren’t late.” He spits the last word like a curse. From behind his back, he produces a plastic pint bottle of Fireball, half-empty, and without waiting for an okay, tosses it in Eddie’s direction. Eddie’s not sure how he manages to catch it without face planting, but the stool wobbles dangerously in the seconds his hands aren’t on the seat, making him hunker down again. He wants to get angry. He had figured they would share a few beers tonight, get a good enough buzz to loosen their tongues, get the conversation flowing to the heart of the matter. It’s not going to do them any good to get blasted before even saying hello. Eddie should put his foot down, wait for his friend to sober up a little. If he really had any backbone, he’d just turn around and leave. On the other hand. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow? So he unscrews the cap and takes a drink.
