25 Days of SyndiSparklez and Motanite

3: Apprentice Shipping: Champagne Supernova (Final Part)

Warning: Drug

"Have you ever been high before, Jordan?" Mot said between swigs of the hard liquor, laughing at the light feeling given to him from the laced air flowing through the stripper bar and drug trade center the Wizards had successfully opened.

Jordan was nearly in tears, laughing at the joke his former enemies that seemed totally undisturbed at the moment, the Modesteps, had told. "No, I've..." Jordan giggled, "I've never done the drugs."

"Then keep drinking, the high's better if you're drunk," Tony said, completely sober, pushing the bottle of hard liquor into Jordan's hand. If Mot cared at the moment, he might have warned Jordan that the Modesteps were thinly concealing their intent to make this night something Jordan was going to regret in the morning. The men had not been friendly, but a little pushy. They had waited until Mot and Jordan had drank two beers to approach. They were only lucky Jordan wasn't good at handling even that much liquor. Worse. The two men might be up to no good before Jordan and Mot had arrived. Not to mention he could tell Josh's mask had a filter to keep him from breathing in the laced fumes and Tony wasn't affected by it as the Wizards had showed him and Dianite in the previewing of the drugs a week earlier. Mot ignored the small pang of guilt at the possibility that he could really ruin Jordan on accident.

He really should leave now. Forget revenge. Dianite would be waiting. He'd say he had failed. Pretend he didn't know that Dianite could smell the liquor on his breath. Get berated for being irresponsible and acting like he had during his teenage years. Refuse to sleep near Dianite. Awake next to Dianite. He would act irritated Dianite hadn't let him just sleep on the couch. The words would come: "We need to talk". What would brew? A serious conversation where the man either rejected him or hopefully talked about fully establishing their relationship. All he had to do was leave with Jordan now. Revenge was stupid. Revenge was petty. Mot was capable at managing his emotions and worries of inadequacy. 

Whatever resolution about inadequacy and not getting wasted disappeared when he saw a group of guys ranging from "okay" to "one night stand quality" walked in from the neighboring island. Mot's eyes fell to the sign near the stripper pole he'd seen earlier. "Open Strip Night". Oh, this was definitely his game. He could make Dianite jealous easily. Either that or score some and later regret it and mourn over his feelings for Dianite. He couldn't take anymore of Dianite just looking at him and muttering, "we'll talk about this later."

"Watch Jordan," Mot said with a distracted wave to the Modestep brothers. Tony looked like Christmas had come early and him and Josh exchanged a devious look, but Mot was completely and utterly wrapped up in just how much he would lose himself and everything Dianite had tried to cut out from his old life. He could live like this. He was happy. 

Funnily enough, stripping wasn't that useful with prostitution other than advertising, but as an assassin, it was way too easy to poison someone's drink while giving them a lap dance. Not that he was going to kill anyone or was he? The night was young. It wasn't like he cared what anyone thinks. He was his younger self again, held by nothing, free lance assassin and escort. It was a miserable life then, but being totally deindividualized was a feeling he missed. Knocking back another drink, Mot slid up to the security guard beside the stripper pole and the list for Open stripping. surprisingly it actually had a few other volunteers.

Mot signed his name on an open slot coming up in fifteen minutes and wrote down a song that he was pretty sure would make all the gay guys drop their pants and four more straight ones come out gay. It used to be funnier when he was jailbait. Now the idea was starting to turn sour in his mind. He cast a look back at Jordan just to make sure he wasn't being murdered, but Tony was slipping something suspicious into Jordan's drink as Josh distracted the man with a story. This isn't who you're supposed to be, Mot.  Why did it always sound like Dianite? Leave. Take Jordan out of this. He was never involved. Mot lingered on those thoughts and was going to pull Jordan from the table, but then came James.