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[center][h2]AND[/h2][/center]
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[b][u]Location:[/u][/b] The Aurora, Los Angeles, California → Asgard
[b][u]Interaction:[/u][/b] Each Other[/center][hr][hr]
Jordan sat back heavily in his chair, rubbing his eyes. A large photo was in the middle of the glowing computer screen in front of him. The underbelly of a stingray plastered across it in high definition. It was in a striking monochrome, light filtering in over the wings of the sea creature. He’d been hunched over his desk for far too long, and there was a crick in his back because of it. 

Stretching, he looked at the clock and made a face. It wasn’t too late, really, but he doubted anyone would be willing to make plans with him on such short notice… 

A grin flashed onto his face and he made a grab for his phone and tapped the phone icon, his fingers beating out a rhythm on his legs. The ringing went on for a few seconds before it was picked up.

“Hey, Sebastian! Yeah it’s me. Aw, did I wake you up from a nap?” 

Smirking, he opened up his wardrobe, eyes flicking over the multitude of outfits kept within it. Muffled complaints were heard from his phone and Jordan chuckled as he threw a shirt onto the bed.

“Come on, stop being such a downer. I just finished a really good picture, and I wanna celebrate. And don’t tell me you aren’t available or some bullshit, I know you have nothing better to do.”

Pressing the phone against his shoulder as he held up a pair of pants against the shirt, he squinted, then shook his head derisively. Tossing them aside, he retrieved another pair.

“Yeah, yeah, you have to get presentable, what do you think I’m doing?” 

Hopping as he pulled on his pants, he looked in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. Not too bad.

[hr][hr]
Jordan did, in fact, wake him up from a nap, but seeing as how he was still asleep at 7 P.M. on a weekday? He probably deserved the rude awakening. The voice buzzing at him through his cellphone barely registered, though his sleep-addled brain did manage to make out a few keywords: the most important of them being “celebrate”.

Of course, Sebastian being Sebastian, the thought of boozing it up at a club pounding with awful dance music was enough to make him reconsider saying “fuck you” to Jordan, and climbing back into bed. There weren’t a lot of things (or people) he’d make an exception for, but as much as he hated to admit it, having a drink or two with Jordan was one of them.

After putting up a token protest for appearance’s sake (he didn’t want to seem [i]too[/i] eager now, did he?), he mumbled out an affirmative, and decided that he should probably start working on making himself look less like death.

Almost painfully slowly, he trudged around his disaster zone of a room, grabbing whatever he needed, like the world’s worst scavenger hunt. A comb, hairspray, and most miraculously, a pristine, navy-blue suit that he’d just retrieved from the dry cleaner’s. For a moment, he contemplated dressing down. After all, his hangover felt like an icepick lodged in his brainstem, and the last thing he needed was to throw up all over himself after one too many tequila shots.

This intense, internal deliberation, however, manifested itself outwardly as nothing more than a slight furrowing of the brow, and after a few, long moments, the inexplicable need to be a snappy dresser won out. [i]Suit it was, then[/i], he thought as he unzipped the plastic garment bag. Overdressing was always, [i]always[/i] better than underdressing, and he’d be damned if he let Jordan one-up him.

[hr][hr]
Jordan slid his phone out of his pocket as he stood outside the club. Rearranging the scarf on his neck, he sent a quick text to Sebastian. ‘Here. where r u.’

Just as he sent it, however, he spotted him weaving his way around some other people on the sidewalk. He walked to greet him, and gave his outfit a once over.

“Huh. Haven’t seen that suit before. Nice colour.”

Sebastian just crooked an eyebrow at the compliment, his own gaze sweeping appraisingly over Jordan’s getup.

“You’re not so bad yourself, kiddo.”

Not even he was sure where ‘kiddo’ came from. Jordan, and the rest of the Norse pantheon, were what, a couple millennia older than him? But after being stuck on the mortal plane for so long, he was starting to accept their newfound personas as a fact of life. For all intents and purposes, Jordan looked to be significantly younger than him, and to be honest, he found his disdainful expression to be quite amusing when he addressed him by the moniker.

Briefly, he glanced towards the inside of the club - ribbons of glowing blue and green lights shining through the glass windows. Throngs of people were already starting to file inside, the promise of a great Friday night spent with friends spurring their movements. For a moment of two, he let his gaze linger, though it just as quickly flickered back to Jordan, the corner of his lips turning up into a wry smirk.

“Well, unless standing out here all night is your idea of fun, we best be getting inside.”

[hr][hr]
It was crowded inside, as was to be expected. Loud, thumping music had already begun to play, and he waved over a bartender. Leaning forward to be heard over the music, he rubbed the card in his hand.

“I’ll have a Jack and Coke, and my friend here will have…?” He glanced back towards Sebastian and raised an eyebrow questioningly,

“A Sangria, my good man.” Sebastian quickly piped up, flashing the bartender a million-watt smile, and just for kicks, threw in a suggestive wink.

With an odd look, the bartender hurried off to prepare their drinks, and while he was occupied with that, Sebastian turned back to Jordan, giving him a chummy smack on the arm.

“So, what’s this ‘really good picture’ you were talking about?”

Jordan couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face, and he quickly launched into his story.

“Alright, so, I just wanted a photo of some schools of fish, something bland like that, right? But instead, I turn around and [i]right there[/i] is an honest to gods sting ray. Now, I was pretty freaked out, as you would be, but I got a couple of good photos before I decided that swimming away would be a pretty good idea.” 

Retrieving his phone once more, he tapped at the screen a couple of times before turning it around to show Sebastian the photo that he was sure would get him at least a placing in the latest contest that he was entering. 

Sebastian had to squint to see the picture - the strobe lights of the club weren’t exactly conducive to such an attempt. But vaguely, he could see the outline of the aforementioned stingray, bending and twisting in the clear, blue ocean water. It was a good picture, no doubt, and he said as much to Jordan, though not before lacing the compliment with one of his signature wisecracks.

“Hey, that’s really nice.” Sebastian leaned back in his seat with an appreciative nod, running a hand through loosely tousled hair. “Good thing you’re still here, though. Can’t have you pulling a Steve Irwin on us now, can we?”

Jordan snorted at that, and nodded to the bartender as their drinks were set down in front of them. “As if I’d die like that. You know me, gonna go out with a bang.”

Taking a sip from his whiskey and coke, he let his eyes flick around the club. It was like every other one he’d ever been to. Flashy, loud, and filled with too many teenagers. Snorting at their frankly terrible dancing, he looked back to Sebastian.

“What’ve you been up to then, apart from being holed up in your apartment?”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, but after taking a sip of his drink, he simply shook his head, a huff of dry, self-deprecating laughter escaping from him. “Actually, I live in a house. Thanks, Jordan. You know me so well.”

“Same as always, I guess. Work, work, and more work. I’m not exactly rolling in cash, but selling farm equipment pays surprisingly well - no commission cap, either.” There was a short pause before he continued, his expression sobering up a little. “…[i]Mierda[/i], when did I become this boring?”

Sebastian punctuated the thought with a quick look around. It wasn’t even midnight yet, and the dance floor was already filled with sweaty, alcohol-soaked teenagers grinding up against one another. It was strange, but the sight filled him with an inane sort of jealousy, though it was all he could do to ignore it. He came out here to have a good time, and by God, he was going to have a good time. The existential crisis could wait.

Jordan followed his gaze and sighed. “Half of those kids probably got in here with fake I.Ds. I mean, it’s so obvious, I don’t get why they weren’t just told to go away at the door. See, that one still has baby fat on his cheeks. Baby fat!” He shook his head and took another drink, making a face at the burn of alcohol down his throat. 

Sneaking a sideways glance at him, he had the sudden, insane thought of the two of them dancing together. To his dismay, he found himself actually considering it for a second, before realizing where his mind was going with this. He immediately turned away and swallowed down the last drops of his drink before ordering another. He was not going there today. It’d be all kinds of awkward and he [i]knew[/i] that suggesting it would probably get Sebastian wondering if he had actually, finally gone insane. Just a bad idea that he should never bring up again. 

To the untrained eye, one might’ve dismissed Jordan’s glance as nothing more than a trick of the light, but Sebastian saw it, clear as day. Now, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking, and the sudden lull in conversation only confirmed his suspicions. If Jordan wasn’t going to say anything, then there was no other choice but for him to make the first move. And they were at a [i]club[/i], for God’s sake, if they wanted to have a quiet drink, they would’ve been better off meeting up at the bar uptown.

So, it was with a newfound resolution that Sebastian downed the last icy-cold dregs of Sangria, wiping his mouth off on a complimentary napkin. He wasn’t [i]nearly[/i] drunk enough for this, but he’d never let sobriety dissuade him. Standing up, he closed a hand around Jordan’s arm, tugging at it in invitation - though the shit-eating grin he wore made it very clear that he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’m in the mood for a dance.”

Even though Jordan let himself be tugged along onto the dance floor, he made it very clear how against this he was. No matter what far fetched ideas he might’ve had, he was quite possibly the worst dancer in the world. All awkward elbows and jerky movements, and really Sebastian should [i]know[/i] this already. 

But he let himself get pulled into the fray, surrounded by sweaty bodies and momentarily lamenting his jacket. But soon enough, he was shaking his hips in time with the music, a stupid grin spreading across his face as he and Sebastian were pressed much too closely together to be acceptable in any other situation. 

“You’re a giant dick, you know?” He half shouted over the noise, but without any real venom behind it.

“Oh, shut up. You know you love me.” With some effort, Sebastian managed to make himself heard over the pounding bassline, and then, a [i]real[/i] laugh, full of mirth, bubbled up from his throat. For a split-second, he thought about circling back to the bar for another drink, but the expression on Jordan’s face was enough to keep him there.

Quite unlike his companion, Sebastian was rather good at dancing - if this could even be called dancing. It was just something that came naturally to him, though his frequent visits to clubs similar to this one couldn’t have hurt. Still, he was almost impressed by how easily Jordan acceded to his request. The guy always seemed so prim and proper, and now, seeing him pressed flush against him, all that inhibition stripped away - well, Sebastian didn’t think there was anyone else he’d rather be with.

“You’re better than this than I thought. Been partying without me?”

“I have many hidden talents.” Jordan wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully, then a giggle burst out of him. An actual giggle. The high pitched thing that girls do. He looked momentarily horrified, before devolving into a laughing mess. He was high on adrenaline and buzzed from the alcohol, and apparently that just made for a very clingy Jordan.

Sebastian was just as surprised by the giggle-slash-laughing-fit as Jordan was, and in response, it earned from him a low, rumbling chuckle. “I’m sure you do.”

He had no idea what’d gotten into him; all he’d had was a single glass of Sangria, but in that very moment, deep within him, he could feel a strange sensation welling up, a vague sort of desire skittering just under the surface of his skin.

…Well, he had to do something about this, didn’t he?

With a near-hypnotic slowness, he slid a hand down Jordan’s side, coming to rest at his hips, and as he leaned forward, he swore he could feel the other’s breath on his skin.

The second before their lips met was almost like an eternity for him. They had both paused, before he pushed forward, the first action that he had taken all night. Max’s lips were sweet from the Sangria he had drunk, and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue out to lick them teasingly.

[hr][hr]
Countless drinks later, clothes stained with alcohol, the two were staggering off to the side of the club, away from the pulsing sea of dancers. A similarly drunken giggle escaped from Sebastian, as he all but collided with an unfortunate stranger, spilling his half-drunk margarita all over them.

Vaguely, as if underwater, he could hear them cussing him out, but right now, all he cared about was Jordan, and of course, finding somewhere a little more private.

Venturing further into the club, Sebastian kept his arm cinched tightly around Jordan’s waist, eyes flickering from one corner of the darkened interior to the next, until finally, he spotted the perfect place - the men’s room. As an attempt at subtle, he turned back to Jordan and raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t wait for the other’s affirmation before pulling him towards it.

With an unsurprising lack of grace, Sebastian pressed his lips against Jordan’s in a sloppy kiss, hands cupping the sides of his face as he backed him up against the door, pushing.

Jordan’s hands tangled in his hair as they half fell, half stumbled through the door. There was an immediate feeling of something different in the air but he brushed it off. At least, until he pulled away from the kiss to see an arching roof and pillars on either side.

“This is definitely not the bathroom.” Looking around them, and at the other gods, some of whom had noticed their enthusiastic making out, he groaned.

“Don’t tell me we’re in [i]Asgard[/i].” He looked pitifully back at the door, that had already swung shut behind them, restricting any possibility of going back and finishing what they’d started. 

Disentangling himself from Sebastian with reluctance, he swayed and put a steadying hand back around his shoulders. His scowl did lighten somewhat however, when he spotted Hel taking her seat. Waving enthusiastically over the crowd, he called, “Hel! Sis! Great to see ya!” 

He tugged on Sebastian’s arm and gestured vaguely towards the seats. “C’mon. We need t’get good seats.”

It was all Sebastian could do to follow, clumsily settling in one of the chairs. He had next to no idea about what was going on; the decadence of Asgard was something new to him, even after Jordan’s occasional recollections of it, and the stares that they’d garnered after their rather unexpected entrance didn’t help in the slightest. He was willing to bet that he looked like a fish out of water, gaping uselessly at the sudden change in scenery.

Whatever had been going on, it seemed that they’d made it just in time, though it [i]was[/i] a rather unfortunate coincidence that fell through the door like that. With no small amount of effort, Sebastian finally managed to tear his gaze away from the decor, and instead, focused his attention on the cloth-covered figure, which was swiftly revealed to be a stone statue in the likeness of Odin.

Did they [i]really[/i] have to bring them all the way here for this?

“Hey, isn’t that your granddad?” Sebastian questioned, probably a little too loudly for the current situation.

Jordan gave him a condescending look. “You’ve been brainwashed by all those stories as well. Odin, is Loki’s blood brother or whatever. So not related uncle. Kind of.” He frowned, struggling with it for a second before shrugging. “A giant dick anyway.”

“Huh. You learn something new everyday.” Sebastian interjected, nodding sagely.

Tyr shot them both a disapproving look, which just made him burst into laughter again. When he launched into his speech, Jordan leaned over and said, in a stage whisper, “You know, Tyr’s real [i]handy[/i] for this kind of thing.”

“Oh, yeah. I can totally tell.” A cackle tumbled past Sebastian’s lips as he briefly glanced towards the eponymous [i]Tyr[/i]. While he was certain that he was making a complete ass of himself, he couldn’t muster up enough willpower to stop laughing when Tyr shot them yet another withering look. “I think he’s mad at us.”

When Tyr announced that the statue was actually Odin, Jordan burst out laughing again, leaning against Sebastian for support. “It’s not much of a change. Guy was always so stony faced before!” 

Sebastian let out a derisive snort at Jordan’s little comment. He wasn’t expecting the news, but to be honest, he wasn’t exactly surprised. In fact, he almost found it hard to believe that Odin hadn’t kicked the bucket sooner, what with all their rampaging Norse warrior crap. Somewhere at the back of his whiskey-fogged mind, however, he couldn’t help but feel a little disconcerted by the news of Odin’s murder.