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“What the fuck is that?”
“Alcohol!” Smartass says with a maliciously wide grin as they slide the shot of light amber liquid in his direction, sloshing around its suspect contents.
“I gathered that. What’s in it?” Aaron crouches down to squint in disbelief at the alien object dancing around at the bottom of the glass. His partner laughs, gleeful and slightly maniacal.
“It’s a worm- thought we’d protein boost our mezcal.” They hold their matching glass up for a toast, and Aaron levels a glare at them, mouth firmly pressed into a displeased line that they don’t take seriously for a single second.
“I’m not drinking this. I don’t even like mezcal.” Smartass just shrugs and smiles wider, showing off their fake, plastic fangs accentuated by ruby-red lip stain. It was their idea for the both of them to match and dress up as vampires, and he hates how he’s half-convinced by their artificially crimson gaze and dramatically dipping V of their neckline.
“Fine, I’ll get Ollie to drink it with me when they get here, you partypooper.” Aaron groans, picking up the glass and inspecting it closer, engaging in a staring death match with the already dead creature. (The funniest part was that he was definitely losing.)
“You know that he can’t handle his liquor and that that won’t stop him.”
“Then you better hurry it up before he gets here.” Smartass raises their hand again, and it is with both affection and long suffering exasperation that Aaron toasts the love of this life before throwing the shot back, worm and all.
(Smartass, in contrast, only drank the alcohol. Aaron got his payback for that, and they enjoyed it so much that he suspects this was their plan all along.)