El begins a weekly El's Bells game night. What happens?
"-and then I think we’ll move on to the Chateau ‘67, or the Valpolicella…"
Neal looked up from his latest painting, a re-imagining (i.e. copy) of Titian’s Venus and Lute Player. “Mozzie,” he interrupted. “I’m not getting drunk with you tonight.”
Mozzie paused his inspection of Neal’s wine to blink curiously at him. “Why not?”
Neal’s stomach gave a slight, guilty twist. “It’s Game Night,” he explained, “with El and Peter. El’s…pretty insistent about it.”
"Burke Family Game Night?" Mozzie’s eyes lit up. "I’m in! I’ll bring the wine."
Neal twisted around to face his friend. “Okay, first of, no. That’s my wine and I’m bringing it. Second of all, no! You cheat.”
""Come one, Neal," he pleaded, giving the Mozzie equivalent of puppy dog eyes. "Even I can’t cheat at…Monopoly."
"Not when Peter’s the banker, no," Neal agreed from experience. He closed his eyes, searching for a way to say this. Mozz knew, didn’t he? They hadn’t actually said anything, sure, but this was Mozzie. He was supposed to know what Neal was thinking almost as (alarmingly, possibly supernaturally) well as Peter did. “Look,” he finally settled on, “you and June play Candyland for wine, right? And you do cheat at that, by the way, she told me.” Mozzie opened his mouth to protest but Neal barreled on. “Well, Peter and El and I play for more like…clothing.”
"Mozzie gasped, horrified. "You’re wagering your suits to the Suit?”
At the last snap, Neal was finally rewarded with the wide eyes and silent “Oooh” of realization. Without a word, Mozzie gathered up the bottles (Neal’s bottles) he’d been eying and made for the door. “Then I shall have to find another drinking partner,” he announced grandly, with all the dignity of the bemused. “Enjoy your menage a tois.”
"It’s not like-" Neal argued automatically.
"You didn’t deny losing you suits to the Suit," Mozzie pointed out, "And you said Mrs. Suit was ‘insistent’ about it. Sounds like a menage a tois to me, mon frer."
Neal very narrowly avoided smirking. Yeah El was insistent, Peter hadn’t been kidding when he called her ‘tigress’. Peter was no slouch himself, those pectorals-
The door had closed before he even realized Mozzie was out of the room - with, dammit, the wine Neal had been going to bring to Game Night. He sighed, then shrugged. They wouldn’t need to be drunk to have fun.
(A/N: I’m sorry I didn’t actually show El and Peter, it just occurred to me that Neal trying to explain to Mozzie would be amusing.)
