After the toast, Francis gulped down his drink again. "Mixed drinks are not for the weak! What about....an amaretto sour, or Sex on the Beach? Surely you've had that one." He shook his head in mock disdain. "You're insulting my sensibilities as a bartender here. Mixing drinks is like cooking. It's all about accenting flavors to create something new and wonderful! And maybe you're going to make a fool of yourself, but I am very unfoolish drunk!"

"I've never had a mixed drink in my life." Arthur admitted. Though he's never really wanted one. He's always liked his drinks straight up. Of course, that'd also how his brothers told him real men drink. "I was talking about you when I said that. I've never made a fool of myself when drunk." He was sure he would remember if he had. And there were no such memories in his mind.

Francis slapped a hand onto the armrest next to him. "The shame! We are having sex on the beach right now!" he exclaimed before he realized what he said and that he didn't have the ingredients for the drink anyway. "Okay, next time then. It's strong, so you'll like it." He found himself laughing as he continued to drink, already feeling himself getting warm since he didn't drink straight liquor often. "I seem to remember you doing your best to strip when we first met."

Arthur felt his face flush. "I did no such thing!" he exclaimed, outraged. How dare he accuse him of that! He was a proper gentleman, after all. He was completely ignoring the fact that his free hand was toying with the edge of his shirt and that he was feeling very warm from the alcohol he'd consumed. "How dare you accuse me of doing something like that. I would never."

Francis burst out laughing. "I had to tell you to put your shirt back on!" And from the looks of it, Arthur was well on his way to repeating the experience. This time though, Francis decided to help him along. He reached out to lift the corner of Arthur's shirt higher. "Oho, even if you would never, I would! Are you warm perhaps? Would you like to strip?" The alcohol was starting to go to his head too so he was very glad he decided to drink at home.

Arthur shoved Francis's hand away. "No I don't want to strip! And I'm not warm in the slightest." he snapped. Lies; both of them. He was feeling extremely warm and knew that taking his shirt off would help. But, there was no way he was going to prove the other right. He would have to be drunk for that, and that wasn't going to happen. He finished his glass and instantly poured another.

Francis decided that he didn't want to drink from his own cup anymore. He grabbed hold of Arthur's and leaned over to drink from it without actually taking it from his hand. "How about I strip then? Will that make you more receptive to the idea?" He didn't feel the same overwhelming desire to strip when drunk, but he did like to see others strip so it all worked out for him. He pulled at his shirt collar and undid the second button.

"N-No it will not make me more receptive to the idea." Arthur stuttered. His face was flushed red, both from what Francis was doing and the fact that the other took a drink from his cup. He quickly downed the rest, hoping it would extinguish the flames he was feeling inside. But it was really only making things worse.

Francis snapped one more button for good measure, his eyes on Arthur the entire time. "Are you sure?" At this point, half the buttons where undone and it left a good view of his chest. He crawled across the couch toward Arthur, but at the last second, he reached for the rum bottle instead of his lover and took a swig though he'd pretty much climbed on top of Arthur to get it.

Arthur's eyes were locked onto what he could see of Francis's chest. His mouth felt dry and his whole body felt like it was overheating. He felt the extreme urge to get some sort of relief from the heat, which the other wasn't helping in any way. But he also felt the extreme urge to kiss the Frenchman. That one won out and he pulled the other close, bring their lips together.

Francis saw the move coming and let Arthur pull him close. He kissed him back until he was out of breath and had to pull away. At some point, he dropped the bottle of rum and a stain spread across the floor, which would be such a bitch to clean up tomorrow. He could care less though. "Are you ready to strip now?" he asked in a low whisper as he brought up hand up to tease the edge of Arthur's shirt.

Arthur found himself enjoying the kiss and when Francis pulled away he might have let out a small whine. Might have, mind you. His mind vaguely noticed the sound of the bottle hitting the ground, but it wasn't what was important at the moment. He didn't answer the other's question. Just pushed him away slightly so that he could pull his shirt off.

Francis helped him take off the rest of his clothes with hands skilled despite his intoxication. It seemed the two of them had a habit of drinking and sleeping together. When they finished, Francis flopped back to rest against the couch, not sure if was was passed out or still awake. Right now, they felt the same.

Arthur stretched lightly as he sat up. Copying Francis, he leaned against the couch and looked at the other. "Why do all our dates always end up like this?" he asked, not sure if the other was awake or not, but needing to ask anyway. What happened had helped sober him up some, but he was really tired and just wanted to sleep for a week.

Francis didn't open his eyes, but after a second, he did answer Arthur's question. "I don't know...swear it wasn't my intention this time." Other times, maybe. But today he just wanted a date. He slid over to fall against Arthur and curled around him, still murmuring though he'd already lost all the was left of his filter. "I think I really do love you. Maybe, more than I ever loved her..." With that last whisper, he drifted off into sleep.

Arthur stiffened for a second when Francis leaned against him. But he relaxed again after a moment. He felt his heart skip a beat at the other's words and it definitely reassured him about their relationship. He watched the other for another couple of minutes, before his own exhausting put him to sleep.

Antonio hummed as he walked down the street, a bag of vegetables balanced on top of the box in his arms. He didn't particularly tell Lovino that he planned to stop by, but had hinted at it the night before. Sorta. Like, in a 'I really want to come visit you like I want to breathe' kind of hint. The mid-afternoon sunlight warmed his face and he was very in need of a drink by the time he reached his boyfriend's home. He shifted his belongings to one arm before knocking as loud as he could. "Holaaa! Anyone home?"

Romulus was sitting in his office, going over the budget report for the restaurant. While normally he would do it at said restaurant, he wanted a change of pace and decided to work from home for the day. Both his grandsons were working that day, so he made a mental note to have a wonderful dinner ready for them when they returned later that night. He looked up when he heard a knock on the front door and his eyes narrowed when he heard who it was. He stood and went to answer, opening the door and staring down at the man in front of him. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Oh...hello," Antonio said with a pause. He didn't expect Romulus to open the door, but he at least never lost his smile. "Is Lovi home? He didn't answer my last text so I couldn't be sure." He peered around the older man to look into the house. He kinda wanted to ask, but was he going to be invited in or not? Because he didn't much want to walk back home after all this effort.

"Lovi is at work this evening." Romulus said. He knew Lovino hadn't answered the last text. He had confiscated his phone after his grouchy grandson had refused to do the dishes, despite it being his turn to do them. "That doesn't explain why you are here. What do you want?" he asked, wanting the boy to leave so he could get back to work.

"Oh." Antonio pouted. He wished he knew that before, though he didn't mind coming over here for nothing, or even being alone with his boyfriend's grandfather. It was just, the feeling didn't seem all that mutual. He hummed a bit as his smile returned. "I came because I really wanted to and ah...I really want to come inside? This food is really heavy!"

Romulus stared down at him for a moment. He really wanted to slam the door in his face. But, he brought food, so he supposed he could let him in the house, just this once. He turned and went back into the house, leaving the door open. He'd let him in, but that didn't mean he wouldn't throw him out in an instant if he was pushed to.

Antonio grinned as brightest and waltzed in. See, they were making progress. He happily went the kitchen and set this things down, looking very comfortable in the space. After all, he'd been in the kitchen before when it was just him and Lovino. "Lovi kept complaining last night that he was hungry so I made a flan and brought over some veggies from my garden. Do you want me to put them anywhere?"

"Just leave them on the table." Romulus said, staring at the vegetables. Those weren't necessary. They had their own garden out back and their things would probably taste much better than these. "You don't have to bring food over here. We have plenty. We don't need yours. Mio nipote* needs to learn to get food for himself." It was something he knew Lovino was capable of. But the boy just liked getting others to do it for him. Mostly his brother.

*my grandson

Antonio left the food on the table, but he did stare at it with a smile for a second. He couldn't have much of a garden considering the prices in this city. There wasn't space for it unless you coughed up more money than he was worth. He made due though, hanging the tomato plants from his apartment railing and growing herbs on the indoor windowsill. That made it special to him. "I know, but I can't resist sharing the things I like with him. And I know Lovi really likes it even if he says he doesn't."