"Hey Sly, come on in, I was just closing up."

Sly jerked his head in acknowledgment, not bothering to voice the fact that he would have gone in with the owners welcome or not. He helped himself to a seat at the bar, red leather, worn with age.

"Want a drink?"

"Always."

This drew a chuckle from the tanned bar owner, who walked behind the counter to face Sly, putting on his polite working face.

"What would Sir like?" He asked sarcastically, eyes twinkling as Sly scowled at his childish behaviour.

"Whatever's strongest." Sly answered shortly, not playing up to the tattooed man's games.

Mizuki raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, "one of those days, was it?"

"It's always one of those days." Sly spat. "This place is a shit hole."

Mizuki sighed quietly, turning round to fix the drink, ensuring to make it nice and strong. After a few minutes tinkering with bottles and what looked suspiciously like fire, he pushed a bright green drink across the counter to Sly, who eyed it contemptuously.

"What the fuck is this?" He asked, prodding the small glass in an unimpressed manner.

Mizuki rolled his eyes exasperatedly, retrieving his own, matching drink and placing it beside Sly's.

"It's called absinthe, it's from France. It's illegal in most places."

"Does that include Japan?"

"Yeah, had to get it off those blonde Yakuza twins." Mizuki grimaced at the memory, they were creepy to say the least.

"They're not twins." Sly responded automatically, smirking to himself as he remembered how pissed off they both got when people called them that.

"Well whatever. In France they call it, la fée verte."

"And what the fuck does that mean?" Sly asked, growing impatient.

"The green fairy." Mizuku responded with an embarrassed chuckle.

Sly fixed him with a deadpan stare, "you're not exactly tempting me."

"It's illegal and its 75%, what more do you want?" The bartender grinned, raising his glass before draining the contents, wincing in clear pain as the green liquid burnt his throat.

Sly looked at the glass with less contempt now, shrugging casually and draining it. He slammed the glass onto the table with a cough he couldn't hold in, the liquid was scorching down his throat like fire.

"Fucking hell." He remarked, staring at the glass with impressed eyes.

"Good right?" Mizuki smirked, "another?"

Sly grunted, "something else."

"Too strong for you?" Mizuki teased, a dangerous game to play.

"Just because we're friends don't think I won't mess you up." Sly growled lowly, tutting in annoyance when Mizuki just smiled and collected two clean glasses.

Five drinks of varying strength later, and Sly was what he'd refer to as, fucking smashed. Mizuki was getting there, having decided to drink less due to them being in his bar, which he had to open again the next day, preferably in good condition.

"Yeah, then, the cheeky little fucker, had the nerve to call me, me, of all people! A dirty fag."

"Which you are." Mizuki pointed out, taking a mouthful of his drink, something red and apple flavoured.

"Well yes, but that's not the point." Sly frowned, draining another drink, whether it was his sixth or seventh he couldn't remember, all he recalled was that it tasted pleasantly of lemon. "But yeah, little bastard called me a fag then tried to run off."

"Pfft, what a wuss." Mizuki laughed.

"I know, yeah, so I grabbed him, right?"

Mizuki nodded, enjoying Sly's rather slurred anecdotes, hard to follow though they were in his intoxicated state.

"Little fucker won't be laughing with no front teeth will he." Sly laughed wickedly, standing up shakily to help himself to a bottle of some unknown drink, his vision was too blurry to read by now, from behind the bar.

"Again?" Mizuki sighed, "you have a serious problem with kerb stomping my friend."

Sly waved the bottle in the air, frowning indignantly with what on anybody else would be a pout. "Three times is not a problem!"

Mizuki laughed again and rolled his eyes, rooting through the pockets of his leather jacket before retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Want one?" Mizuki offered, lighting his own and proffering the pack to Sly, who was drinking deeply from the bottle.

"Got my own." Sly answered, wiping a trickle of liquid from his chin. "Somewhere."

He began patting his pockets in confusion, first his jacket, then his jeans, before coming up successful in his back jeans pocket, revealing a slightly squashed box.

" Give us your lighter." He demanded, shaking hand held out insistently.

"Always so polite, Sly." Mizuki joked.

"You sound like my fucking Grandmother." Sly replied, taking the lighter and igniting his cigarette, amazed his entire face didn't set on fire, with the amount of alcohol that must be on his breath. "Mm, that reminds me, I brought something for us."

Mizuki's eyebrow rose in curiosity as Aoba went into the bag he had brought, ignoring the lump of dark blue fur that was his allmate, and removing a sealed plastic bag that contained a hypodermic syringe loaded with clear liquid.

"I swear I had some tablets too.." Sly muttered to himself, growling in annoyance before roughly shaking his allmate who turned on with a robotic noise.

"Aoba."

"I told you, it's Sly. Help me find the tablets Virus and Trip got me."

"My sensors tell me you are over double the recommended alcohol intake, maybe you should go to bed."

Sly scowled, stupid fucking dog. "Just find the fucking tablets, Ren, before I begin regretting saving you."

Ren looked conflicted, but after sharing a look with an apologetic Mizuki, dove back into the bag, returning a moment later with a small plastic pouch, filled with about twenty small white tablets.

"I question the legality and safety of these pills." Ren remarked, worry seeping into his deep robotic voice.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't give a shit." Sly replied nastily, moving closer to the furry face with every word before turning the allmate onto sleep mode and zipping the bag over it's head.

"He does my fucking head in, he's such a buzz kill." Sly complained, kicking his bag irritably, unable to see Mizuki's wince.

"He's just trying to look after you." Mizuki reasoned, feeling rather sorry for Ren.

"I don't need to be looked after." Sly hissed angrily, throwing the pills to Mizuki who caught them deftly. "Are we getting high or not?"

Mizuki sighed, it looked like he was in for a long night. "Yeah sure, why not."

Sly's face lit up with almost childish glee and he tore into the sealed packet, removing the needle and staring at it almost hungrily.

"Give me your arm." He commanded, giving Mizuki little choice but to remove his leather jacket, exposing his tanned arm. Sly advanced towards him, taking the rubber tourniquet out of the bag and tying it round his arm tightly, releasing it with a twang that made Mizuki wince.

"Stop being a baby." Sly admonished, poking round Mizuki's bicep until he found a bulging vein that was perfect. Without giving Mizuki so much as a warning he stuck the needle in, causing the bartender to hiss through his teeth as he pressed the plunger until half the liquid was gone. With expert hands he removed the needle, carefully placing it on the table and massaging the area the liquid had gone in with firm hands, removing the tourniquet so blood rushed back to his arm and the drug could enter his system. Sly wasted no time in doing the same to himself, ignoring Mizuki's offers to help, emptying the needle into his pale skin with a dangerous smirk.

"What was that, by the way?" Mizuki asked, realising with a sense of dread that he hadn't even asked before allowing himself to be injected with the mystery substance.

"Can't remember exactly, it's meant to be pretty good though. Didn't come cheap." Sly fingered the rope burns on his wrists with a kind of sick pleasure as he remembered the two days he'd spent with the twins as payment for a crate of cigarettes and a small bundle of drugs, only some of which he'd brought tonight.

"That's reassuring.." Mizuki muttered sarcastically, draining his drink and eyeing the packet of pills in his hand. "Are these E's?"

"Yep." Sly replied, he could remember that, and the fact that each pill was indented with a tiny E, helped too.

Mizuki nodded, "we'll need another drink then."

Sly gestured to the bottle in his hand, "relaaax, Mizuki, everything is under control!"

"You're drunk." Mizuki responded.

"So are you!" Sly replied, suddenly indignant, and his out-of-place pout reappeared.

"Okay, okay! Give us the drink then."

Sly relented quickly, sliding onto the sofa beside Mizuki each taking a pill and placing it on their tongues. Mizuki drank first, pill disappearing in a moutful of overly sweet drink, before passing the bottle to Sly, who drained it, eyes locking with Mizuki's as he swallowed.

"Mizuuuki!" Sly practically sang, wrapping his arms around the tanned mans neck insistently, trying to ignore his giggles.

"Slyy!" Mizuki complained, feeling extremely warm wherever Sly's slim fingers touched him, though whether that was a result of the drugs, or something else he wasn't sure.

"You're too drunk!" Mizuki complained, trying to push the clingy boy away, though he continued to grip him like a monkey.

"You're too high!" Sly remarked in return.

"We're both too high." Mizuki remarked seriously, meeting Sly's eyes and bursting into laughter, over exactly what he didn't know.

When the laugher faded, the pair sat there in somewhat of a strained silence, both knowing what would undoubtedly come next, as it always did, but waiting for one of them to initiate it. As usual, after a cigarette and a few not well hidden glances at Mizuki, Sly grinned impishly, sliding himself over the sofa to straddle him.

"Something you wanted?" Mizuki grinned back, his head felt fuzzy and Sly's hair looked like electricity in the dim lights. He tugged on a strand to check.

"Someone's impatient." Sly joked, leaning back on his heels so their bodies pressed closer together, slowly unzipping Mizuki's leather jacket. His fingers trailed slowly down Mizuki's shirted torso, accidentally on purpose brushing a nipple on his way, earning a hiss. Sly eventually finished undoing the jacket, fiddly buckles at the bottom and all, leaning forwards to push it slowly off his shoulders. His hair brushed Mizuki's collarbones, exposed in his black tank top, as he leant in further so his lips barely grazed his ear.

"Mizuki," he whispered huskily, nipping the tanned man's ear none too gently, "I want you."

As he'd expected, that was all it took for the bar owner to grab him by the waist and violently attach their mouths, not waiting before shoving his tongue in to begin an elaborate if not sloppy dance with Sly's.

Sly moaned hungrily as their tongues brushed aggressively, each trying to dominate the kiss and being fiercely battled away by the other. Sly cheated, biting Mizuki's tongue so he withdrew it back into his mouth with a muffled whimper and the tang of blood filled Sly's mouth, arousing him more than he thought possible. He didn't know what had been in the syringe Virus and Trip had given him, but whatever it was made Mizuki feel hotter than usual below his fingers.

Having recovered from the animatistic bite, Mizuki resumed the kiss, more tentatively this time, allowing Sly to take the lead so he wouldn't be bitten again. He made use of the slightly less angry mood to slide off Sly's jacket, his headphones having disappeared some time ago to some currently unknown part of the bar. Mizuki slid his hands under Sly's double layered t-shirts, touching creamy soft skin aggressively, raking his nails down his back and no doubt leaving marks. The bluenette arched back into his touch, moaning into the kiss, which he broke a second later to pull off the rest of his top layers, leaving his chest exposed. His hair brushed against the small of his back as he threw his head back with a guttural moan, Mizuki licking, nipping and sucking on his nipple with a practiced ease. When Mizuki detached from the now lightly bleeding nub, he grabbed Sly by the ribs, which were pronounced due to his slim frame, throwing him onto the sofa and straddling him, attaching lips and teeth to his neck.

Sly could feel his arousal straining through his jeans, and it only increased as Mizuki bit his sensitive skin harshly, making his breaths come in pleasurable groans. Sly gripped Mizuki's hips, and with a dirty smirk, ground their hips together, relishing in the moan that came from the tattooed man. Sly continued to grind against Mizuki, feeling his hardness growing against his own, clearly the drugs and alcohol had no effect on his libido.

"Lube?" Sly managed to ask, breath coming heavily as the lights danced before his eyes.

"Upstairs." Mizuki replied, detatching himself from the no-longer pale neck below him with an almost apologetic look.

"Tsk." Sly tutted, soon turning into a moan as Mizuki bit down particularly hard and the skin broke, warm, iron scented blood running down his collar bone. "Fuck it."

"Don't you mean fuck me?" Mizuki asked, playful smirk on his kiss swollen lips.

Sly grinned widely, eyes hungry and lustful as he undid his belt and ditched his remaining clothes sinfully slowly. "Alright then. Fuck me."

The words, spoken in that voice, dripping with arousal and desire made Mizuki moan lowly, stripping off his own jeans and boxers quickly, dropping them to the floor, made sticky by spilt drinks.

Looming over Sly again, he gripped his shoulders hard before guiding his straining dick to his ass, thrusting in with a growl that only increased when Sly raked his nails down his back, stinging pain running through his spine. Sly's breath was ragged and erratic as he wrapped his legs firmly round Mizuki's back, locking his ankles and digging them into his tailbone.

"Move." He whispered, grateful once again that Mizuki wasn't the kind of guy who would insist on preparing and using lube. He rather liked the feel of being split in two when he was penetrated dry, the sharp sting cut through his arousal like a knife and left him desperate for the pleasure that was sure to come.

Mizuki obeyed immediately, thrusting out and back in with a snap of his hips, adjusting his hold on Sly so he could enter even deeper, nails digging into bony hips, feeling the hot warmth around his length and groaning. The first few thrusts were always more exploratory than anything else, Mizuki searching for the spot that would make Sly's spine curve upwards and bring forth a beautiful moan. Mizuki pounded into Sly at various angles, knowing full well that if Sly wasn't satisfied he'd only do it again later that night.

"Ah, fuck!" Sly cried a second later, knees tightening around Mizuki's side as his back arched off the leather sofa, slick with sweat.

Mizuki smirked, quickening his pace until Sly was moaning and grunting with every thrust, nails scrabbling at his back loosely. Mizuki could feel his end approaching as Sly's tight passage rubbed against his cock pleasurably, using one hand to grip Sly's leaking erection and pumping it in time with his thrusts.

"Ngh!" Sly groaned, letting Mizuki know he was close, a fact he made use of, running his nails down Sly's front so hard that blood collected under his nails. Sly growled lustily at the rough treatment, gasping as Mizuki stroked his dick even harder, somehow finding the stamina to thrust even harder. Sly's head banged against the sofa arm with every movement of his hips, sound of bodies on damp leather and ragged breaths loud in the empty bar.

"Mizu-" Sly began, breaking off to groan loudly as Mizuki pressed his thumb into the head of his erection, covered in pearly semen. "Fuck, I'm gunna-"

Mizuki just grinned and pulled out completely before slamming back in, dragging a screaming moan from Sly before his cum splattered onto his hand and stomach. Mizuki gasped as Sly's already tight ass tensed, squeezing his dick hard, his thrusts grew erratic as he reached his climax. Grunting as his warm fluid poured into Sly's ass, breath coming in gasps as he recovered from his sex high. As always, within minutes Sly pulled away, making a small noise as warm liquid dripped down his legs, turner pink with blood from the lack of preparation. Mizuki watched lazily as he pulled on his clothes, no doubt staining them with blood, finding his headphones on a bar stool later and putting them round his neck.

He paused to pick up the bag that contained Ren, placing it on his arm and lighting a cigarette. He stopped in the doorway, giving Mizuki a grin and a lusty gaze.

"Same tomorrow?"

"As always." Mizuki responded, feeling his eyes grow heavy with fatigue.

A dark laugh rang through his ears and the smell of cigarette smoke met his nose.

As the door swung shut behind him Mizuki sighed heavily. It wasn't love, but it was enough.