𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 [ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

something more

Stepping into the apartment, you took in the simplicity of it. The walls were painted gray with sharp, white trim. The couch was a forest green, the lounging chairs black, and the coffee table was made of glass with sturdy, wooden legs.

Photographs of  nature kept the walls from remaining bare and the whole space smelled like fresh pine. This was probably the cleanest living space for men that you had ever seen, but you weren't complaining.

"Welcome to the abode!" Jean announced and flopped down onto one of the lounging chairs, kicking the recliner back.

"I'm gonna shower," Connie threw his car keys onto the kitchen countertop and walked down a hallway, disappearing into the second door on the left.

"Are you thirsty?" Marco asked as he opened the fridge and pulled out a water, but you shook your head no.

"Have anything harder than that?" You asked and Marco hesitated before looking at Jean.

"She's had a rough night Marco, give her the good stuff. Plus, she's our guest," Jean shrugged and Marco walked over the cabinet beneath the sink, opening it to reveal at least 12 bottles full of liquor.

"Pick your poison," he gestured and you walked over,  crouching down to get a view. Your eyes landed on the tequila bottle. You grabbed it.

"Whoa!" Marco's eyebrows shot up and he snapped his gaze to Jean. "We got a tequila girl on our hands," he finished and Jean sprang to his feet, wanting to see this.

You set the bottle down onto the counter and stared at it, wondering if you should even open it. Sure you've had stuff here and there, but nothing as hard as straight tequila. Your eyes diverted away from the bottle as Jean slammed a shot glass down in front of you, a playful smirk on his lips as he leaned against the counter. Marco was scurrying around in the fridge, probably trying to find something to eat.

You unscrewed the tequila cap and poured the clear poison into the shot glass, your hand slightly shaking. With a deep breath you downed the whole shot, blocking out the sound of Jean yelling no. You started to gasp for breath as it burned your chest. Your hand pounded your sternum as you immediately started coughing, your eyes tearing up.

"What the hell are you doing?! You don't drink tequila without a chaser!" Jean shouted, his hand pulling the liquor bottle away from you.

"Pussies drink tequila with a chaser," you sputtered out and Jean's whole expression changed as he let out a long sigh.

"You've never had tequila, have you?"

There was a long pause.

"...No"

"This was gonna be for you," Marco set a lime down and you stared at it, wondering what the hell you were supposed to do with that.

Marco looked at you and back to the lime before saying, "You chase tequila with a lime...have you seriously never done this before?"

Your cheeks flushed and Marco started to laugh a bit. "I don't know Jean, I think it's kinda impressive she was even able to keep it down,"

Jean put the tequila bottle away and grabbed something called Pink Whitney. Marco saw the bottle and grabbed the lemonade from the fridge, finding a glass to pour it in. Jean put some of the liquor in it and slid the glass to you.

"Here, this should be better," you took a sip of it and licked your lips. It wasn't that bad, you couldn't taste the alcohol at all.

As you, Jean, and Marco all had some drinks, you turned on a movie. You sat between Jean and Marco, your head resting on Jean's shoulder and your legs laying atop of Marco's lap.