fandomtownies | Caritas, Friday Evening

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$caritas,
mike lane

Caritas, Friday Evening

Earlier today, Mike had been sent home from a construction site for having performed an impromptu ballad about some poor-quality roofing tiles. The supervisor had suspected he hadn't been feeling well. So Mike was not at all surprised when he got to Caritas and felt compelled to tell Tino that he had passion in his pants and wasn't afraid to show it because he was sexy and he knew it (complete with a little dance routine).

Tino was horrified. Mike was still laughing when he updated the specials board.

60% OFF THE PRICE OF YOUR DRINK
IF YOU ORDER IN SONG FORM

As far as weirdness went, this was one he was just fine with.

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Where Tino was extra surly and Mike was extra amused.

Atton flopped down in one of the chairs. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary today because he had spent most of it either off-island or asleep, so... yeah. It was kind of a surprise when he leaned over and what came out was,

"Gone so long the days for thinking, hear that final call for drinking, I know there's been a lot of problems, not too many ways to solve them. Seems hopeless what can be done yet, I feel the need for icy comfort - let's drink a beer, let's drink it here, 'cause tonight is all that's here, let's drink a beer!"

Mike wasn't that surprised but still raised his eyebrows, amused. "So I guess that's a beer with sixty percent off then, my good man."

"That wasn't actually the plan, but I'll take the cheap drink," Atton said. What? He was a practical guy. "Now what's going on around here?"

"Singing," Mike shrugged as he went to get Atton his beer. "Occasionally dancing, too. Personally, I think it's pretty funny. My man Tino doesn't agree, but when does he ever?"

Tino sulked some more.

"The island better not try and get me moving," Atton said. "Trust me, nobody needs that."

Actually, he was pretty damn graceful when he wanted to be. He just didn't want to be.

"I don't know, could do you good," Mike replied, sliding the beer over. "And the island is not gonna give you much of a choice if it decides to grab you. I'm just sayin'."

"And an asteroid could fall out of the sky and whack me on the head right now," Atton said, taking a long, well-deserved drink off that bottle. "I'm still not going to say I won't mind."

Mike glanced up at the ceiling. Because you never knew.

Then he shrugged again. "Well, suit yourself. I am not gonna force you to dance, that's for sure."

"I really appreciate it," Atton said. "About as much as I do the discount, actually."

"I figured people who get upset about this kind of thing deserved to at least benefit from it somehow." Because he was just that nice. "And we make up crazy-ass discounts over here all the time anyway."

"I know."

Atton put an indecent amount of money in the pockets of the people running this place.

"But this has to be the easiest one I've ever participated in. Well, 'easy', if that's what you want to call warbling like that."

"Well, at least it was short."

He was mostly joking.

"Just do me a favor and don't start singing yourself," Atton retorted.

Mike laughed. "Hey now, my singing is lovely." Well, he was okay. He was still a better dancer than he was a singer, though. "And I can make no promises."

Atton raised his voice. "Can we get a supply of gags around here? Just for the night? They don't even have to be the good kind."

Tino perked up and looked like he was actually considering it.

Mike snorted and shook his head.

"Goin' all out for that discount." Yeah. That was it.

"What can I say," Atton said, taking a sip from his beer. "I like cheap drinks."

Dean shrugged at that because the logic was without flaw. "Is this another one of those fu--screwed up island things?"

"According to the bartender," Atton confirmed. He raised an eyebrow at Dean. "You're in a bar that serves to minors. I think the cursing's the least of your worries."

"...point," Dean granted him. "This place is just screwed up sometimes."

Most of the time. All the time.

Atton opened his mouth to agree, but what came out was, "Whiskey gin and brandy, with a glass I'm pretty handy."

Well, okay, none of that was technically wrong...

That got Dean to snicker at the poor kid. What he meant to say to the kid was 'You got your cheap drink, I don't think you need to keep going there, buddy'

What he managed was: "I'm tryin' to walk a straight line
On sour mash and cheap wine."

The hell?

...And Atton had mostly managed to avoid this today. Space.

"So join me for a drink boys, we gonna make a big noise," he sang back, annoyed, and took another gulp of beer to punctuate it. Ugh.

"So don't worry 'bout tomorrow. Take it today. Forget about the cheque we'll get hell to pay," Dean sang back, grumpily. His whiskey was so not cutting it.

Atton was wishing he'd gone for something a little more alcoholic himself.

He found himself changing tacks, which was... nothing, honestly.

"No stop signs, speed limit-- Nobody's gonna slow me down."

"I'm rolling thunder pouring rain. I'm coming on like a hurricane. My lightning's flashing across the sky. You're only young but you're gonna die." Oh, hell no. Not this song.

Atton filled in for him where he stopped like it was the most normal thing in the world. And look, he didn't even like AC/DC that much! "I won't take no prisoners won't spare no lives. Nobody's putting up a fight. I got my bell I'm gonna take you to hell, I'm gonna get ya, satan get ya."

... admittedly, this one did sort of fit his previous life.

And Dean actually having been there...

"Hells bells. Hells bells, you got me ringing... Hells bells, my temperature's high. Hells bells."

Atton dropped his face onto the bar and smacked it with his forehead a few times. "Really?"

"At least it's not shitty music."

"Could've at least been Metallica."

Everyone was a critic. But especially Atton.

"AC/DC is a classic, though," Dean replied. Because music taste, man.

"I wouldn't know," Atton muttered. To the bar. "I'm not from around here."

"Do I even wanna ask?" His humming of AC/DC today hasn't actually been out of the ordinary.

"If it already terrifies you, probably not," Mike replied easily. Like the utterly unperturbed cheery bastard that he was.

Excuse you, he was not scared. "Whiskey, no ice."

"Gonna have to charge you full price for the lack of singing."

Mike was sure Dean was absolutely heartbroken about that.

"Pick a classic rock song and I'll serenade the shit out of you." In a manly fashion.

(Somewhat NSFW in a innuendo-y way I guess, but I had to put this somewhere today.)

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Caritas, Friday Evening

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