paradisalogs | And the end is unknown

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And the end is unknown

Who: Ezio Auditore and Cassandra Cain
What: drunkface :|
When: After the New Years party
Where: Ezio's room
Rating: R for language?

It's with a resigned kind of air that Cass helps Ezio through the hallways, on their way back to his room. She has no idea how much he's actually had to drink but it was definitely too much and now here she is, making sure he doesn't do anything like fall over in a hallway or something. Despite her annoyance over his behavior earlier, she isn't heartless. What if he fell on that big nose of his and broke it?

She's too nice, maybe, but she wants to be able to go home knowing Ezio isn't drunkenly climbing the side of the castle just to give it a shot, or prove he can in this state. It's not hard to direct him back home at least, and she manages to keep any unsuspecting decorations from being knocked over and destroyed. After the party, this is an improvement in luck.

And oh look, there's his door. Her task is about to get so much easier.

"Is your door unlocked?"

Hopefully she won't have to rummage through his pockets to find any keys.

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Ezio hasn't been this drunk for a while. At least, to his credit, he can still walk –– without Cassandra, he likely would have made it back to his room, though obviously it would have taken him much longer. As it is, he's got an arm around her and he's chuckling to himself.

"No, no," he says. He rummages through his own pockets, producing the key. The key is on a ribbon which may have been nice once, though now its satin finish has been worn dull. It takes him a second to get his key in the lock, the tip scratching all around the keyhole before sliding in. Ezio gives a satisfied hum as he turns it and pushes the door open.

"Ladies first," he says, gesturing with a grin. That wasn't even a joke, Ezio.

She watches his battle with the keyhole with a steadily growing impatience, but just when she's about to grab the key from him he's finally gotten it in, the door is finally open. Ladies first, but she just rolls her eyes and readjusts her own grip on him, tugging him into the room instead of doing as he says and going first.

It's not so much she thinks he'll fall as she thinks if he's allowed to plot his own course, he'll go straight for whatever stash of wine he might happen to have in his room. Because he's Ezio, there's got to be plenty of wine around here somewhere.

"Why'd you drink so much?" She asks him as she maneuvers him towards his bedroom. His bed is the finish line, she's almost there. "Must have realized... how strong those drinks were."

"I've never had that kind of drink before," he says, moving with her without struggle. He's all too happy to stretch out in bed, even with his boots still on, eyes closed and still smiling. He holds an arm out as if to coax her into coming to cuddle with him like Stephanie does when she drunk-sits him.

"It was good, though."

"Good?" Maybe they drank something different, then. "Tasted terrible, to me. Just... be still, Ezio."

What a big baby. She remembers what Stephanie has said before about Ezio's smelly feet, but she braves them anyway, leaning over the bed so she can unlace his boots for him. The entire point of this was to make sure he was in bed and sleeping comfortably, after all.

Bracing herself, the first boot comes off and thuds onto the floor, tossed without care for where it ends up, but lucky for her she doesn't smell anything. The second is next, and she pats his knee.

"Stay there." She almost sounds amused, saying that. He's really not showing any signs of moving now that he's on his back. "Will get you water."

"You do not need to do that, you know," he says, though he makes no effort to sit up and unlace his boots himself. He chuckles. "I am perfectly capable of managing on my own."

"Yes, can see that."

Please, he'd be sleeping fully dressed if she just left him now. She leaves the room then, but returns before too long with a glass of water and a bottle of pills she's wished up instead of trying to rummage through his bathroom and hoping she came out with painkillers. She sets the pills down, but reaches for his hand to wrap his fingers around the glass.

"Drink this."

Ezio takes the glass without difficulty and ignores the pills completely.

"Thank you," he says, draining the glass and then setting the empty glass down on the side table. Almost, anyway. It's definitely just barely on the edge. Drunk vision. "I do not want the pills."

Well that won't do. The last thing he needs to do is roll over in the night and knock that onto the floor and then walk all over glass shards in the morning.

"They're for tomorrow. Just in case," she says as she repositions the glass, leaving the pill bottle beside it. If he wants more water in the night he can just wish for some, she assumes. Finally, she sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches over to brush Ezio's hair out of his face. "Do you get sick, after drinking?"

"Not generally." He lets her brush his hair out of his face and he opens his arms again. Come cuuuuddle. "You are much too concerned, dolcezza, I would have you stay to keep me company rather than nurse me."

"Never seen you this drunk. It's..." She trails off there, not sure what it is. It would be concerning if his body language was telling her something was wrong, but it's really not. It's only saying the normal things it would when he wants her in close.

She already yelled at him at the party and any more lecturing will be better done when he's not absolutely smashed, so after taking a moment to kick her own shoes off she climbs into the bed properly, settling into his arms and wrapping hers around him.

"It's different. Would have been fun, if you'd behaved."

He wraps his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair for a moment. She smells nice, even with his alcohol-soaked senses. His hands drift down her back.

"Once or twice a year, I enjoy myself as men often do. Men do this in your time, I am sure."

And because of the cut of her dress, there is a lot of bare back for his hands to be drifting down and it draws a slight shiver from her.

"Women do too. Getting drunk isn't... just for men, you know."

His hands still when she shivers, and then move again until one is settled at the small of her back.

"I know that," he says. "But they do not get drunk the same way men do."

She laughs softly, scooting in a little bit closer.

"In your time, maybe." She looks up at him now, chin resting on his shoulder. "Lots of things change, between yours and mine."

"In your time, too," he says, closing his eyes and letting out a hum of amusement that rumbles through his chest. "I have never seen a woman get drunk like this from your time, either."

With his eyes closed like that, he won't be able to see her roll her eyes. There's only amusement in her voice when she speaks, though.

"Mm, I forgot. If Ezio hasn't seen it, it can't exist."

"I did not say that," he replies, his hand coasting up and down her back again. "But you are welcome to prove me wrong."

"That's one I can't. Would just end up... getting very sick." Flashbacks to throwing up in the Fortress of Solitude after parties with Superboy, ugh. "Guess we'll have to... agree to disagree."

Ezio runs his hand around to her side, so his fingers can play at the edge of her breasts, running along the hem of her dress.

"Alas, alas. I would not ask you to be sick all over me, I assure you."

She laughs again, amused that he thinks her getting sick on him is even a possibility.

"You're safe," she says softly, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face again. "Only drank a little, unlike some people."

She isn't too concerned about the wandering hands so she lets him go on exploring, watching his body language to see how long he'll attempt to keep this up. Honestly, she's just surprised he hasn't passed out already.

Ezio keeps on pawing away, gently. He is pretty sleepy, but it's worth staying awake a little while longer to better appreciate her body pressed up against his.

"I did not drink more than I could handle," he says, "so it is not a problem."

It was a small problem, but he had apologized and even drunk he had seemed to have at least some idea what he'd done wrong. Progress is progress. She scoots up, fully aware what that will feel like with them pressed so closely, and kisses his cheek.

"Talking about puke... is weird pillow talk. Should sleep, amore."

"You are the one who brought it up," he hums, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. "But I do not wish to sleep. I would prefer to hold you a while yet."

"Guess I can... stick around for that, then." Like she was showing any signs of getting up. She's perfectly comfortable and content right where she is, thank you very much.

He chuckles under his breath.

"Good, because I have no intention of releasing you from my arms."

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