Agape (VICTOR, CASUAL)

[JAMES WINDSOR]

New Year's Eve was never really anything special. Because, at the end of the day (literally), it was the turning of the year that people were celebrating - and so actually the day afterwards. What had always been odd to James, was the fact that every year the entire world gathered together to celebrate his birthday, more or less.
It was strangely uplifting.

James was sat on the roof of his and Victor's shared apartment in New York City, having climbed up not long earlier in order to grant him a clear view of the ball dropping at midnight in Times Square. Well, a clear view through the window of an apartment across the road, which was host to a man with a very large screen tv, and who was currently watching the ceremony.
But it hardly mattered, because truthfully James preferred the fireworks anyway.

He was expecting Victor to join him soon, considering that the other man had realized what day it was, anyway. James wouldn't put it past him to think it still November, to be truthful. Though surely he would notice the dancer's absence and assume he was on the roof, anyway.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

Victor hadn't showered in days, and he was now realizing that he found himself mildly disgusting this dirty. Well, dirty enough that if he scratched his head with his too-long nails, they came back with a sadly notable clump of grease. He made a face and yeah, showering would be good for him, he ought to do it. But no, how tedious, he thought, until his phone dinged and - oh, today was James' birthday, wasn't it? Which meant it was also New Year's Eve. Which also meant a fantastic and double excuse to get drunk. (Well, his birthday was tomorrow, but he put it in his phone as today because they always celebrated it today, it was cooler that way.)

So he decided, he should probably buy James a gift and shower, because James didn't like when he looked impoverished. So he showered, and while scrubbing his hair clean (it took two rounds of shampoo) he figured out a great idea for James gift, and it didn't even involve him leaving the building until later! He always got the best ideas in the shower. Surely it had something to do with the relaxing capabilities of a small space and hot water. Well, their shower was small… ish.

He spent the rest of the day preparing himself to look nice (somehow, the entire rest of the day; he was a conceited man in his looks, when he had the energy to be), because he'd like to look nice for James' birthday and anyways it felt good to look good, and prettied up. Finally, it was growing darker and darker when he crept up the stairs to find James sitting on the roof and watching that silly old news program the man next door always watched, and they watched it because he watched it.

He didn't say much, coming up, just sat down next to James with an entire bag full of alcohol plopped onto the table with a loud BANG! "Sustenance, for an assuredly awesome celebration,"[/b] Victor said, a pleased little smirk forming on his lips. It was mostly red wine, with a few beers. Victor didn't have a huge preference, but James liked red wine a lot, at least far more than not-red, so they had a lot of it around. They certainly used it up quickly enough.

[JAMES WINDSOR]

True to expectation, it wasn't long before Victor came to sit with him on the roof. James still wasn't quite sure whether this was because he truly wanted to watch the fireworks with him, or if he had suddenly remembered that it was his friend's birthday - the man probably only noticed the date due to an alert on his phone, or something of the sort. Though he did tend to consider himself rather knowledgeable in His flatmate's actions, and inherent... uniqueness - there was no doubting the fact that even he was frequently lost in the whirlwind titled Victor Frankenstein.

Truthfully, the dancer smelled the scientist before seeing him (or rather, being faced with the sudden flash of a bag dropped on the table before him) - the scent of James' favoured shampoo almost overwhelming (Victor had left it a while before washing again), and the inhalation of a rather minty smell distracted from the fact that the act was likely unintentional (as far as James knew, Victor didn't know which shampoo he preferred).

"Sustenance, for an assuredly awesome celebration,"

James was vaguely startled for a few seconds, analysing what had fallen directly in front of his face for a moment before he grinned widely, turning to face Victor as a chuckle began quickly forming.
"I assume there are no guesses as to how we're celebrating my birthday then?" James quirkier an eyebrow, resuming laughing after having paused for a second in order to speak. He had absolutely no qualms against getting completely pissed with Victor for the anniversary of his birth, however.
In fact it sounded like a rather brilliant idea.

To punctuate this thought, James dug around in the bag to withdraw a bottle of red wine (again, his favourite), tossing it to Victor before collecting for himself. Why on earth should they bother with glasses when the intention was obviously just to drink as much as possible?
After uncorking the bottle, he held it at arms length and beckoned towards Victor, the grin still gracing his features.
"I do hope you've prepared a birthday speech."

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

James looked back at him with a grin, laughing - Victor chuckled lightly too, a low 'huh, huh, huh,' that made his eyes light up, even if his face didn't move all that much. If James laughed at it, it was funny. "I assume there are no guesses as to how we're celebrating my birthday then?"

"Well, I didn't suppose you'd want it any other way."[/b] He knew James, and he knew, they were never ones to say no to drinking. Well, James was, when he had a show, but Victor had gotten him pissed even before those sometimes - though they had both sorely regretted it later, James when his dancing and balance was off and he had a pulsing headache throughout a performance, and Victor when he was chastised for it. Didn't stop him from doing it again though; didn't learn from his mistakes. Or rather, he did learn from them, and ignored the instinct not to.

Victor leaned on the table, his chin resting on his upper arm, sideways and looking at James sideways, and the world kind of tilted in the background a bit but James didn't, because Victor's eyes weren't at that same angle, obviously. He almost didn't catch the bottle James tossed at him - honestly, the guy should know better, his physically coordination was that of a baby, and they both knew that - but managed by kind of smacking the bottle uncomfortably against his chest in a sort of cradled-child way, to avoid it breaking everywhere and wasting good wine.

"I do hope you've prepared a birthday speech," James said. Victor was pretty sure he was joking.

"Of course I have,"[/b] Victor said offhandedly, working the cork unceremoniously off his bottle, "But it's for later."[/b] He grunted, staring hard at his bottle, before his face turned into a pout and he held it out to James. "Open it,"[/b] he demanded crossly. Cross not at James, but the cork.

[JAMES WINDSOR]

"Well, I didn't suppose you'd want it any other way."
James had to agree with Victor's reasoning, as it was somewhat of a pastime for the two to get unceremoniously pissed on the roof of their apartment. Somehow, whatever the appeal of drinking oneself into a stupor with one's closest friend of an uncountable sum of years must be worth the raging headaches the day after, because neither man ever once suggested they stop doing so.

When Victor caught the wine bottle rather awkwardly against his chest, James felt. Twinge of guilt at the fact he had forgotten the other man's inherent lack of coordination skills. He usually avoided doing anything that may result in Victor unintentionally breaking something. But the man had brought him a considerable amount of alcohol, and it was almost his birthday. So really, he had a bit of an excuse.

"Of course I have," was the response James received for his query of a 'birthday speech'.
He raised an eyebrow at Victor, smirking as the other man added: "But it's for later."

He was about to speak, when the man handed out his bottle of wine with a petulant expression and a demand of: "Open it."

"Please," James added with a quirk of his eyebrow, taking the bottle and removing the cork quickly before handing it back with a smirk.
"Honestly I don't give a toss if you 'forget' your manners for everyone else, but I've known you too long for you to not use them toward me, I should think."
Really, he wasn't particularly fussed either way, but it would probably help if somebody should teach the man to be polite every once in a while. Even if he knew it wasn't going to stick.

"Twenty-six." James pulled a face at Victor, taking a large gulp of the wine - he had no doubt they would likely be pissed before midnight and so they was no reason to delay. "I feel older than twenty-six most of the time."
Not that he acted it. And really, what did it matter? Twenty-six was still young, he had more than enough time to do everything he wanted - and the new year, he suspected, was to be a promising one.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

"Please," James said, a mockingly amused look on his face, though he took the bottle anyways and removed the cork before giving the now opened bottle back to Victor. "Honestly I don't give a toss if you 'forget' your manners for everyone else, but I've known you too long for you to not use them toward me, I should think."

"Mm, thank you,"[/b] Victor said distractedly, already moved his focus onto his huge bottle of wine, which really, was just asking to be chugged. He took a long sip. Oh, that was good. He did have a talent for choosing good drink, if he could say so himself. Well, of course he could, that expression made no sense. Most people could.

"Twenty-six," James said suddenly, a sour look on his face. Victor blinked up at him. "I feel older than twenty-six most of the time."

Victor didn't get why being old was a bad thing - he was twenty-seven, after all, he'd be twenty-eight 2 February. Groundhog's day. He got to celebrate with a the groundhogs. They didn't have groundhogs in Geneva, or London, but one of the guys at group told him about them, they were like squirrels except more compact and they told the weather, or something.

"You act older, that's why," Victor pointed out, meaning no offense, it was just true. "I don't understand your preoccupation with age, though. But a number and all,"[/b] he waved his hand in the air, "Besides, I'm still older."[/b] Age didn't matter, but for some reason, he still felt some small, childish pride in the fact that he would always be older than James, as far as the numbers go. He'd started school late, so they'd been in the same class (well, if Victor weren't home schooled they would have been).

[JAMES WINDSOR]

"Mm, thank you,"
The two words made James smile, but he managed to duck his head before it grew. The man wasn't quite sure if Victor knew how easy it was for him to make the dancer smile, and James himself couldn't quite decide whether it would be a good thing or not if he did. Though it turned out not to matter, anyway, as Victor's concentration was set upon the wine.

"You act older, that's why,"
James made a noncommittal noise as a response. He acted older than Victor the majority of the time, that was certain.
"I don't understand your preoccupation with age, though. But a number and all. Besides, I'm still older."

James pulled another face. Victor had always assured James that he was older just the right amount of times for the dancer to suspect that he was probably proud of it. It didn't bother him too much, but if ever the other man were to start treating him younger, James would be furious. He often got that at work, dancing frequently with people older than himself - he didn't need it from Victor (of all people) as well.

Truthfully, James was rather scared by becoming older. It was likely a subconscious reason he enjoyed getting so thoroughly drunk with Victor each year, or some similar psychiatrist-esque rubbish. And rather, he was not as scared with the thought of becoming old, but by the fact that as he did so he would likely become slower. James couldn't merit the thought of being any less agile, less able in his dancing.

But it was not the night to dwell on such thoughts, after all.

Having been routinely drinking from his wine bottle, shook it slightly to discover it less than half full. The man blinked at it, before looking up at Victor with a laugh.
"Well, it seems I'm off to a good start, at least."
He continued chuckling, gesturing to the bag with one hand.
"What else have you got in there, then?"

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

James was quiet for a moment, no doubt preoccupied contemplated his own age, and Victor scowled and drank, annoyed that James' attention had wavered from himself. Suddenly James laughed, and shook his half-empty bottle in the air amused-like, "Well, it seems I'm off to a good start, at least. What else have you got in there, then?"

"Wine. Lots of wine. And also some beer,"[/color] he added, though he knew James wasn't a huge fan of the cheap stuff. Victor, however, had an affinity for less expensive things sometimes, though he would never say it. He was planning on having the beer himself when James was too drunk to complain. That was how it usually worked.

He remembered, suddenly, and said, "Oh - I haven't any crackers though. You know they're impossible to find, here?"[/color] They'd looked last year - well, James had looked last year, Victor had spent that month inside - but this year he'd searched himself, high and low, to no avail. And it was too late now, no matter what the shipping fee they wouldn't have arrived by tonight, so Victor was resigned to having no poppers. Personally he wasn't a fan of the things, found them lousy and, like beer, cheap, except they didn't taste good. Still, James and Elizabeth had always liked them, so Victor had done his fair share of them in childhood.

[JAMES WINDSOR]

James pulled another face at the mention of beer, sticking his tongue out in order to prove to Victor just how much he disapproved of that particular choice. But the mention of the large amount of wine was quick to lighten his expression again.
"Oh - I haven't any crackers though. You know they're impossible to find, here?"

"Oh," the dancer replied halfheartedly. It was certainly pleasant to know that Victor had thought about getting the crackers anyway, and in all honesty James didn't particular mind their absence. The smoky scent they emitted once pulled tended not to react well with copious amounts of drinking, after all. And nobody wanted to be sick on their birthday.
Though, to be fair, celebrating with Victor every year meant that James usually was.
"That doesn't matter, I'd much rather prefer all the wine anyway."

Without really noticing (he wasn't really paying attention, however), James had quickly finished off the first bottle of wine. Something that surprised even him, to be quite frank. But then, time always did seem to rush past at an endless pace on New Year's Eve, and already being partially drunk was hardly likely to slow that down.

James pulled the cork dramatically out of another bottle, but paused briefly when he noticed the sight of quite a few empty bottles surrounding him and Victor. He placed the new bottle between his crossed legs, and picked up the nearest empty ones to inspect, and present to the other man.
"That was quick," The man spoke before he noticed the considerably darkened sky. Or perhaps he didn't even notice it at all, but rather pretended that he knew what was going on.

Did he always blank out so much once he had started drinking?
Oh dear.

When James next looked across at Victor, a good few inches of the wine in his bottle had disappeared. Not that the man noticed, really. He was far too distracted by giving Victor a large, toothy, completely lopsided grin - and shooting the man almost-puppy eyes as he asked:
"Can I have that speech now, pleeeeeease?"

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

James was certainly very uninterested in the crackers, which Victor found offending, because he worked hard on finding them and he ought to be praised for trying anyways, but it was soon forgotten as they downed bottles of wine. Rather, Victor finished one and one-half, and James drank a lot. Because James always drank a lot. The guy had a much higher tolerance than him, but still, he drank awfully quickly. Soon the other man was quite drunk, Victor mildly so, and feeling cuddly.

"Can I have that speech now, pleeeeeease?"

Victor looked up from his lap, which he was looking at while contemplating if he was drunk enough to sit on James yet. Well, James certainly was. Victor sighed - he wished they could, for once, be equally drunk, but Victor didn't like to drink that quickly, it hurt his tummy and anyways drinking to fast made him full.

He wandered over to where James was sitting and say half on the other man, half of the part of the seat he wasn't occupying, and began, monotone, "James, you are my best friend, an exceptionally elegant dancer, and a unique individual. I love you and will do until we both die. The end." He smiled small at James. "That was a good speech. It took me fourteen minutes to come up with it."[/b] Victor himself wasn't quite sure whether that was meant to be a joke or not, because it was true, he'd fallen half asleep while trying to think of bland but apparently arbitrary compliments one had to pay someone on their birthday.

[JAMES WINDSOR]

A small part of James' brain told him that perhaps he should slow down a little, at least so that Victor would be able to catch up with the amount of alcohol he had drunk. His body didn't seem to feel listening to his mind, however, as it raised the bottle of wine to his lips again.

At the rate he was going, the man rather doubted he would be able to remember his own birthday this year.
Fortunately, James was rather good at dealing with whatever aftermath was left behind. Once he had phased out at some point, he would be fine - any headaches or hangover-esque feelings were usually quite mild, and he managed to rid of them quickly more often than not.

"James, you are my best friend, an exceptionally elegant dancer, and a unique individual. I love you and will do until we both die. The end."
James had fallen quiet. He always listened to Victor, because whatever Victor said was usually important. Besides. Even if it wasn't, it was Victor speaking - and that was enough to make him listen.

"That was a good speech. It took me fourteen minutes to come up with it."

The man giggled at that (a product of the wine), and wrapped one arm around the man half sitting on him without quite realising he was doing so - it ended with a half-bear-hug, that left James smiling into Victor's shoulder.

"That was a marvellous speech, Victor, thank you." Despite the fact that Victor was partially sitting on him, James' drink-addled brain decided instead to focus on the speech the other man had given. The rest of his focus, naturally, went to Victor.

"I love you too Victor. And I rather hope neither of us die too soon,"
He spoke with complete sobriety, before turning to grab another two bottles of wine from the table.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

James giggled at him - he always giggled too much when he was drunk, it was a weakness of his - and Victor pouted, because he'd been truthful, it was fourteen good minutes he could have spent doing something more interesting. He decided it didn't matter though, because now James was kind of half-hugging him, just like Victor was half-sitting on him. Two halves made a whole so maybe both things were definite.

"That was a marvelous speech, Victor, thank you," said James, head on Victor's shoulder, and Victor rather liked that. The thanks, and James. He wasn't yet so drunk that he wouldn't flinch at a stranger's touch, but this was James and he warm. It was a bit chilly, to be out on the roof in December-almost-January.

"I love you too Victor. And I rather hope neither of us die too soon," James said seriously, before reaching over for two more bottles of wine. Victor managed not to fall off James' lap by holding tight to the table's edge.

"One does not usually hope to die unless they are suicidal,"[/b] Victor said matter-of-factly, though he appreciated the sentiment. And he liked when James told him he loved him. It came out mostly when the other man was drunk, and Victor tried to get it out of him once or more every time he could. It was like a challenge for drunken nights. Or afternoons or morning, sometimes it was those too.

He took one of the bottles from James' hand, put it back on the table while he was finishing his second. "You're too ahead , you ought to slow down."[/b] He didn't like being so behind in drunkeness, and made a face. "And anyways, if you're too drunk I can't bring you for your present."

[JAMES WINDSOR]

"One does not usually hope to die unless they are suicidal,"
James pulled a face at the comment, and prodded Victor in the arm with his index finger.
"Oh, you know what I mean,"

As far as James knew, that most certainly wouldn't be a problem for either of them. But there was always the constant terror for one's mortality that living in a city such as New York brought. What if one of them were to be randomly attacked in a street one day? What if, whilst on his routine run, James were to be hit by a car - or Victor managed to stare at the wrong sort of person, and get himself into the kind of trouble that James sincerely hoped would never occur.

It was terrifying, that James still managed to remember this fear when he was so drunk. Even if the thought did fly from his mind once Victor took one of the wine bottles from him.

"You're too ahead , you ought to slow down."
James made a noise of complaint at the loss of the bottle of wine, and responded with:
"No, Victor. You're too behind, you ought to speed up."
But all the same, the man placed the second bottle alongside the first, on the table. It didn't really matter how much he drank, anyway. He was already pretty much drunk.

"And anyways, if you're too drunk I can't bring you for your present."

Truthfully, James had quite forgotten that birthdays were a time for presents, and would have probably been content to just talk and rink through the night with Victor. But then, if the man had already gone to the trouble of something... He could hardly say no.
'...bring you for your present.' The phrasing at least was curious. A clue?

"Are we going somewhere then?" James let his head rest on Victor's shoulder again, deciding to let his body at least attempt to sober up a bit if they were to be moving from the roof.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

Victor ignored the fact that James argued he ought to speed up, because that really wasn't very healthy (he was desensitized to is own hypocrisy by now) for one's body, and after all James was no doubt going to complaining about going to dance with a wicked hang over tomorrow, Victor was only trying to save himself from himself, early. There was a certain, small rush of satisfaction that he felt when James put his new bottle down - following suit, very nice - and even more so when James rested his head on Victor's shoulder and said, "Are we going somewhere then?"

"Mmhm," Victor hummed in the positive, leaning his head to the side to be closer to James, and his insufferably curly locks that Victor liked to twist in his fingers so much. He did that now, twisted them, the ones hanging behind James' ears, unintentionally grazing his partner's neck with the side of his hand as he fingered the strands. "You've been going on about body art for ages, I thought you might want finally to get your own, hmm?" It was Victor's nature, that when he became drunk, he become far less sensitive to the physical contact he craved and hated so much, constantly.

He was nearly finished with his second bottle of wine - hardly what James had gotten up to, but then, he wasn't even sure how James had gotten that far ahead - he was already substantially drunk. His blood alcohol level ought to be more than enough to send him flying through the bars of jail, were he caught anywhere near the steering wheel of a car. Or perhaps that was always, there had been that unfortunate incident a few months ago when his drivers' permit had been revoked, but that wasn't worth thinking on.

[JAMES WINDSOR]

James hardly noticed Victor's murmur of affirmation to his question, because by that point the other man was combing his fingers through the dancer's hair. The man always seemed to enjoy messing with his hair - and James, who found it actually rather pleasant, and somewhat relaxing, was hardly going to complain. When Victor's hand brushed the side of his neck slightly, the dancer didn't even notice himself leaning in a little toward the touch.

He did, however, hear clearly the other man's revelation of his birthday present.
"You've been going on about body art for ages, I thought you might want finally to get your own, hmm?"

James twisted where he sat, so as not to unbalance Victor (who was still half sat on his leg) and make sure his head remained on the other man's shoulder, more importantly not disrupting the man's hand from his head (the dancer's flexibility was more than useful most times).
"What, that's a brilliant idea Victor," James exclaimed rather excitedly, giving the man a well-earned, completely lopsided but extremely cheerful grin.

"Though I don't think I'd have the slightest idea what to have, but then I assume you'll be helping in deciding that, won't you?"
He probably could think of something, though having Victor's input would definitely be something that James wanted. It was easier to make a decision with him, rather than on his own.