Lightly edited. 600 words.
CW: alcohol, possessive behavior, implied stalking
You stopped sharing location with John Price.
He's a busy man. Too busy for you lately, it seems. The usual tricks, the old reliables, no longer seem to capture his attention anymore. You wonder if there's someone else.
You do it after he texts you yet another short, unapologetic message. He's working late tonight. Don't wait up.
You won't.
It's been ages since you indulged in a favorite pastime: reading at the bar. A habit of yours since school. You dress up for your own enjoyment, pluck the book that's sat on top of your to-read pile for months, and find a spot at the bar of your old haunt. Cocktail in hand, you lose yourself in the story.
Three drinks later, a hand settles on the counter beside your glass, connected to a thick arm testing the thickness of a denim jacket. A voice made rough with smoke curls in your ear and sends a shiver down your spine.
Should've checked here first. You were just sayin' you missed this place.
Heat you want to believe that's only from the liquor creeps up your chest and claws at your throat.
Woulda been easier to find you if you hadn't, you know.
You're embarrassed when you think back to when John first convinced you to enable the feature. You didn't share that information with anyone, and the idea of someone watching you felt gross. It took quite a bit of cajoling for him to persuade you, going on and on about how he only wants what is best for you, to keep you safe. Knowing where you are at all times is part and parcel of a relationship with him.
He's smiling. There's warmth in his features, the upturned corner of his mouth, and the slight scrunch of his nose, but his eyes are matte. Dull even in the dim light of the bar. He's fuming.
John sits beside you and drapes an arm over the back of your seat. He waves down the barkeep with the other. You finally find your words, humiliated that the first thing you think to say is an apology, and that you two can go back to yours. He shushes you.
No, love, go ahead. Finish your chapter. Mind if I borrow your phone? Used up the battery on mine, you see.
You've never seen his phone below 60%, but you fork it over anyway, and he gestures for you to return to your book. You re-read the same paragraph a dozen times before giving up. He sips his drink, unhurried, catching your eye and giving a wink before he slides the device back to you.
There. All better.
There's a new icon on your home screen. It's unfamiliar, and when you reflexively tap it, it asks for a passcode. Your mouth dries.
Can't have you making more impulsive decisions like that, eh?
The arm slung over the stool migrates to your shoulders, and his hand gently clamps over the nape of your neck, thumb swiping over the skin.
I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve lately, have I. S'pose that's why you pulled a little stunt like this. Wanted me to come hunt you down, find you sitting pretty at a bar, hm?
He laughs when you stutter and try to defend your decision but glowers when you quietly comment you were worried someone else was keeping his attention.
If you're finished reading, think we'll spend the night at mine, sweetheart. Show you you're the only one for me.
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Alcohol tips for newbie writers (or non drinkers!):
At bars, people who order “chasers” after their shots are ordering something to wash down the taste of their shot with. This can be juice, soda, more alcohol, or even pickle juice
Hard liquor is generally sold in stores as shots (tiny bottles), fifths, liters, and handles or in ml (50, 100, 200 etc)
Most people can’t finish an entire fifth of hard liquor (vodka, etc) on their own without being very ill
Conversely, many people can finish an entire bottle of wine on their own without being ill
Liquor can be “bottom shelf” or “rail” or “well” -- all synonyms for the cheapest version of alcohol a bartender has. Bars generally keep several “levels” of alcohol stocked
You order a drink with the alcohol first, then the mix -- e.g., a “vodka soda” or a “Tito’s and tonic”
When you “close out a tab”, you pay for all of the drinks you’ve had that night. Either the bartender already has your card (you “opened a tab” earlier) or it was quiet enough that they just kept an eye on you and tallied your bill up at the end
“Doubles” are drinks or shots with double the standard pour of alcohol
In the US, most shots (pours) are 1.5 oz by default.
Mixed drinks (gin and tonic, vodka lemonade, cosmos, etc) are generally made up of 1-2 shots and a mixer
If you don’t specify which type of alcohol you’d like in a mixed drink (vodka cranberry, for example) the bartender will put whatever the “house” liquor is -- and this depends entirely on the establishment. A dive bar will pour rail by default, whereas a nicer tavern might make all vodka cranberries with Tito’s
PLEASE TIP YOUR BARTENDERS THEY WILL REMEMBER YOU I PROMISE
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I think it's really funny that out of 3zun the one that probably likes drinking alcohol the most is in fact Lan Xichen.
Nie Mingjue canonically doesn't like drinking very much. Qinghe alcohol is probably effective for use as paint stripper so he might have a decent tolerance, he just doesn't enjoy it.
Jin Guangyao has likely deliberately worked up the exact tolerance he needs to drink a socially appropiate amount of alcohol at events without actully getting drunk, because I think the act of not being of sound mind in public is like a horror movie to him.
But Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen invented a whole new cultivation trick just to bypass his family's "one sip and we pass the fuck out" piss poor tolerance gene so he can drink as much alcohol as he wants. This man wants to go get white girl drunk with his sworn brothers so bad and neither of them are into it please pray for him.
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