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Demir is looking to get seriously fucked up. There's no reason to, he's just hungry for a fix.
As soon as his flight landed, he made his way directly to the club. Not particulary to 'club,' but to get drunk. The late June heat radiated on his skin as he walked the sidewalks. He sat his little drawstring backpack on the pavement and entered the club with no hesitation, sitting at the bar and ordering a straight vodka on the rocks. He gets ID'd, of course.
After about 3 glasses, he's insanely dizzy. He's not lightweight, but this is heavy shit. His EMF shirt is clinging to his body with the eminent sweat. He's insanely delirious when he feels eyes on him. He turns around, sloppy as ever, and meets the eyes. Holy shit, that's Clav. He's followed him forever. They had some mutual friends, but never spoke to each other. Braden is staring at him with an unreadable expression, like he's emotionless. Demir is dead locked on his eyes. Hazel, pretty.
And then, Braden smiles. It's brief, but it lasts on his face, cheeks perked up. Demir smiles back the best he can, drooling a bit. He's seriously fucked up.
Braden makes his way over with a smile. "Cookie! Whats up, man?" He says excitedly. Demir smirks drunkenly, he can barely think.
"Jus' here to drink.." He slurs with a sloppy nod. Braden scoffs and shakes his head, still grinning
"You are so wrecked, dude. You good?" He asks. Demir just nods and takes another shaky sip of his vodka.
After 30 minutes of them talking, or Braden attempting to understand what Demir was flirting at him, Demir hurls.
It's so nasty, and it's one of Braden's biggest phobias. He scowls, trying to be nice.
"You- you puked." He says, a little flustered.
"Fuckin' duh.. Help me, pretty boy." He says, wiping his mouth. Braden is too scared to even approach him. He hates vomit, it's so disgusting. He hates anything unhygienic in general.
He stands back while a bartender cleans the puke off the bar. Demir just buries his head in his hands. "Fuuuuuck," he slurs.
Braden feels decent when the puke is all gone, out of sight. "C'mon, Cookie. Lets get out of here." He says, picking Demir up and holding him over his shoulder. Demir leans into the touch, lightly pressing his lips to Braden's neck.
"Stop, no, you don't know what you're doing." He's blushing, but he can't do this until Demir is sober.
As Demir continues to try to seduce him, they walk into a beat up hotel lobby. Demir is hunched over Braden's shoulder, barely conscious. "Can we get a room with 2 beds?"
The lady working the desk is a little hesitant before checking the computer system. She sighs, and Braden raises his eyebrow.
"We've only got a single bed room. Sorry." She says. Braden sighs, shaking his head.
"Fine. We'll take it." He mutters, holding his card up to the reader. She hands them the keycard, still looking at them with a grimace. Braden murmurs a quick 'bitch' as he carries Demir to their room.
He lays Demir on the white sheets and tucks him in. He's pretty much passed out. There's a small recliner in the room, and Clav grabs a pillow off the bed and places it under his head, reclining in the chair. Just as he's about to fall asleep, a small voice comes from the bed.
"What ya doin'," Demir mutters from under the blanket. Braden is a little spooked before realizing it's just Demir.
"About to fall asleep."
Demir pulls the blanket from over his head. He's so beautiful, all charm and pretty hair. Braden admires him. "C'mere, get in."
Braden doesn't have to be told twice. At first, he tries to keep his distance from Demir, just to be safe. That is, before Demir snuggles closer and wraps his arms around his torso. Braden can't protest. He just wraps his fingers through Demir's soft curls.
"G'night, Clav." Demir mutters.
"It's Braden."