1990 - Smells Like Teen Spirit

[pentagrandma]

Zach thought little of his brother’s very unappetizing and quite viscid snort. Undignified summarized Jerry in a nutshell. This was normal; routine, even. He caught the distaste in Malakai’s expression, however, and couldn’t help but to find humor in that.

When Mal glanced his way, Zach acknowledged him by way of a small, appreciative smile. After having shared only the briefest of conversations with Zach, he’d still taken it upon himself to show his brother some kindness - in spite of a possible (probable) dislike for him.  He seemed like a genuinely good guy. Well-rounded. Sound.

“Ah,” waffled Zach, mulling over whether or not to accept. He didn’t wish to impose, nor did he want to refuse; it somehow felt discourteous, and he was thirsty. “Yeah,” he finally settled upon. “Thanks. I’ll get you next time.” If there were a next time.

[The Cedar Witch]

Mal turned from the pair to hide the smirk, doubting that Zach would repay the gesture but appreciative of the sentiment.  He led the pair to the bar and wordlessly signaled to the bartender for another two glasses. 

"You here alone?"  Jeremiah asked, moving around to one side of Mal and leaning against the bar. 

Mal angled himself toward the younger vampire just in time to catch another undignified once-over.  "Yep."  He pressed his lips tightly together, gaze moving over the dried blood smears on his face. 

"You always come here alone or?"  There was a flirtatious edge to Jerry's tone.

Seriously?

"Not necessarily."  Mal sighed through his nose.

The bartender returned with the two glasses and Mal selected one for himself before sliding the other along the bar to Zach.

[pentagrandma]

Come on, Jare, he’s not-- “Thank you,” offered Zach as the glass was slid toward him. --interested. After casting a look toward his brother, one brow marginally lifted, he recentered his focus on Mal. “I really appreciate it,” he reiterated in earnest. He closed his hand around the glass and raised it for a thoughtful sip, taking care to glean the remnants from his teeth and lips before speaking next.

... “So, what things do you like getting into here?” he asked, referencing back to the implication that this particular club wasn’t exactly the older vampire’s scene. Already, Zach had begun to develop idealized notions of mutual interests with Malakai; thinking that perhaps he'd discover his own local avocation(s) per this man's recommendation. It never hurt to ask.

[The Cedar Witch]

Jerry gave his brother a sideways look caught somewhere between indignation and reluctant compliance.  Fuck you know anyway?  When's the last time you picked anyone up?  Despite the heat in Jerry's phrasing, regret thrummed indelicately along their bond on the heels of his message, unintentionally peppered with the memory of getting punched in the face. 

That image played over and over again.  Evidently, he was still feeling salty.

"There's a couple human bars around with different vibes,"  Mal answered quickly, eager to get into a non-flirtatious conversation.  "Risk has an alright music scene but I'm more into the smaller places."  He sipped lightly at his own glass, angling his body toward Zach and away from the other vampire.  "Can't feed openly anywhere else though," he admitted quietly, glancing around at the various paired-off vampires with humans.

[pentagrandma]

Zach pushed a short burst of a sigh through the passage of his nostrils. Though he chose not to dignify Jerry’s censure with any coherent thought, he did pass along his general lack of offense; forgiving his brother the mental outburst. He kept his gaze fixed politely upon Malakai as he spoke, brows rising a fraction in displayed interest at the mention of music.

“Yeah?” he asked. “What kind of music are you into?” The thumb of his free hand hooked comfortably into a front belt loop as he sipped again from his glass, and leaned against the edge of the bar. Open feeding was a new enough concept for Zach that he didn’t think he’d mind its absence, but he didn’t say as much.