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[corkscrewed]

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[corkscrewed]

I don't want to lie down. Thought I'd go - to the arcade or something. That'd be fun.

[epistemological]

Then fine, go.

[ And he downs the rest of the drink and puts the glass down.]

[corkscrewed]

You could come. I just - I don't want to keep talking about this.

[epistemological]

You're the one who-

[ He grumbles at that point and breathes out hard.]

We could put on a film. Play a game. I don't- talk about literally anything else.

[corkscrewed]

Let's do a film, then.

[ he's so strangely uncomfortable, and upset, and he wishes suddenly that he weren't drunk. ]

[epistemological]

[ Jon stands, and that's when it becomes a lot clearer how much of the bottle he's been through though he makes his way over to the den without much trouble. He flops onto the couch without much dignity, grabbing at a control before pressing it on and grabbing up what is clearly some sort of gaming controller to start looking for his film collection.]

[corkscrewed]

[ martin approaches the couch with that carefully composed sort of posture that only the very drunk employ when they are doing their best to seem more sober than they are. he takes a careful seat, giving jon a little space. ]

You have a Playstation?

[epistemological]

[ Jon looks up at Martin with a squinting glance.]

Yes.

[corkscrewed]

I - you know what? Sure. Of course you have a Playstation.

[ he's just going to let himself melt into the couch. ]

[epistemological]

[ Jon's going to navigate to a selection of a few movies saved on the device and point at the screen, holding out the controller.]

Pick as you like.

[corkscrewed]

[ martin will take the controller, picking out some sort of heist film that had been rated pretty highly. and then he slides the controller onto the coffee table, trying to get comfortable. ]

I'm glad you still want to, um. Hang out, away from work.

[epistemological]

There's a lot less to do here.

[ He settles back against the cushions in what is clearly his favorite spot.]

Even- even working the library as often as I do, I end up here most nights. Since we, uh, since we figured out better regulations.

[corkscrewed]

More comfortable than that cot you let me borrow, I bet.

[ he's trying to settle himself, but there's still a weird, sick adrenaline in his system. ]

[epistemological]

Usually, when I sleep in my office there I just pass out on the desk so... mixed?

[corkscrewed]

[ martin would not do this sober, but he is drunk with his (former) boss in his (former) boss's flat getting ready to watch a movie, so maybe he's a little bolder than he would usually be.



he smacks jon with a throw pillow. ]

Don't sleep on your desk.

[epistemological]

[ Jon startles like a fussy old woman and looks over at Martin, utterly scandelized.]

I don't do it on purpose.

[ He's got one of his own, you know. So enjoy that thwack back.]

[corkscrewed]

I feel like it stops being an accident after the first time.

[ he's going to counter-counter smack him >/ ]

[epistemological]

You don't stop being tired after the first time.

[ And a return thwack back.]

[corkscrewed]

You should be able to - to figure out you're getting that exhausted, Jon.

[ he's just going to try to catch and grab jon's pillow, thanks. ]

[epistemological]

[ Jon's flailing it around enough it'll be harder to catch but he's also terrible at literally anything physical so-]

Not if I'm focused on some- give it. Give it back.

[ Like the mature adult he is.]

[corkscrewed]

No. You clearly can't be trusted to use it responsibly.

[ he's just going to shove his own under own his butt, thanks, so he can try to steal jon's with both of his hands. ]

[epistemological]

I'm using it the same as you.

[ He's grabbing for it again and tugging harder. ]

[corkscrewed]

[ and then martin just bursts into laughter, because what else is he supposed to do while fighting over a pillow with jonathan sims? he releases it. ]

Fine, fine, sure. I guess.

[epistemological]

[ Jon has been tugging so he ends up flopping back towards the couch. He scrambled up. ]

You’re terrible. Why did I invite you over to beat me up. Honestly.

[corkscrewed]

I tried to go play pinball.

[ he's still laughing, a little helplessly. ]