Room 210, Sunday Evening

[smilestopscars]

Ezra had slumped face first onto his bed.

He'd been in Boston for most of the weekend. Working the bar at Purgatory, then a night of several Halloween parties and the inevitable encounters with fun, pretty people. No wonder he was exhausted. And thus having faceplanted right into bed in last night's clothes as soon as he'd gotten his bags in through the door.

Was he even awake? Debatable.

[ooc: Door cracked, post open! I am traveling home and on tiny phone internets so some SP applies.]

Comments

[smilestopscars]

"Sleep is for the weak and boring, darling," Ezra replied lighty, and smiled so easily that it really called into question just how genuine his smiles were just in general. "I'd have thought you of all people would know that."

[rebelseekspizza]

Ezra, Dante had been starting to grasp for a while now, was a lot like a very pretty rug thrown over a (sometimes?) tightly strung-up rope. Not that he was going to call him on it.

Any time soon, anyway.

"Hey, I like naps," Dante said easily. "Sometimes."

[smilestopscars]

"Well, perhaps you'd benefit from one," Ezra suggested, still lightly. "You smell like booze. Must be tiring."

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante let out a soft grunt that... might have been a laugh? Might not have been.

"Ez, if one bottle of booze could knock me on my ass, my nights would be a lot easier," he said. "More boring, though."

[smilestopscars]

"Admittedly the two thoughts weren't all that related," Ezra replied. He'd stopped now, by the stairs, but he didn't look like he planned to linger. "Oh well."

[rebelseekspizza]

Considering Dante had already given up Ezra as a lost cause for the evening right around the moment he'd first caught the guy asleep, he wasn't about to go racing after him, either.

Was definitely starting to lean Alana-wards, though. Especially with Ez having a moment of... whatever the fuck he was having.

He pressed his shoulder against the wall, instead. "Right," he said. "At least you got 'em out of your system."

[smilestopscars]

Ezra was more of a lost cause when it came to a lot of things than most people realized.

He smiled, lips together.

"Mmh. Well, darling, it was nice to chat but I have grown-up business to attend to."

[rebelseekspizza]

Mostly whatever of that Dante had picked up tonight left him worried. He didn't like worried.

Worried was both pointless and a whole lot of bullshit.

He put the bottle to his mouth, taking a gulp in an effort to chase that whole thing away. Didn't work. "Hey, darling," he called, pulling away from the wall-- to head for the upstairs stairs, not the ones leading down. "Next time? 'Fuck off' is easier. And shorter. And quicker."

He threw Ezra a smirk on his way past. 'Worried' was bullshit. Anger and attitude had always served him a whole lot better.

[smilestopscars]

"Too crass. Pass."

Did that sound a little... personal? Oops. Didn't matter to Ezra, though. "Ta-ta." And he was off down the stairs, his step much lighter than it felt.

Couldn't tell he wasn't smiling anymore from the back of his head. Not that he thought Dante was looking. Not that that mattered, either.

[rebelseekspizza]

Good thing, too, 'cause Dante's sublimating of everything into neat categories like pissed and bored and looking for a distraction didn't work fast enough not to leave him pausing, however briefly, over the first step of the stairs upwards.

Maybe he should--

Nope. Not finishing that thought. Finishing the step, instead.

Fuck, he hoped Alana was still up. He didn't need Ezra's shitty mood gumming up the hard work he'd been doing not thinking about Monday or the Monday before that or his shitty fucking life in general, thanks.