suitably_heroic | MCA #4, Monday Evening

Current Music: 'The Good Life', Anouk

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MCA #4, Monday Evening

Atton had woken up that morning with only a passable idea of what had happened the previous night; there'd been five full bottles of juma in his fridge, no food anywhere, and an overly enthusiastic message from Skywalker confirming drinking plans Atton had no memory of proposing to the guy. He'd decided the wise thing to do was to get back into bed and maybe not get out of it until he stopped feeling completely miserable on every level.

By five PM, he'd given up on that, and ordered pizza.

By eight PM, he'd opened the second bottle of juma and he was waiting, patiently, for the inevitable dramatic knock/sweep into the room combo that generally heralded Skywalker arriving just about anywhere.

[[ expecting anakin, but open before he arrives! ]]

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Anakin batted it away, giving him a tiny smile. "Jerk."

"You gotta lighten up more," Atton said, "I mean, even I think so."

"I can be light," Anakin said. "...sometimes."

"Usually when you've got a belly full of Corellian whiskey," Atton said, "But sure. Sometimes."

"You've met Obi-Wan. Lightness wasn't really his forte either," Anakin said.

"Which is kind of ironic, considering you were both supposed to be Light Side Jedi," Atton noted.

"We were incredibly serious Light Side Jedi," Anakin said.

"You know what this calls for?" Atton said, taking a swig from the bottle. "A really stupid holovid. Like, profoundly dumb."

"Oooooh," Anakin said, lighting up. "YES. Like the Real Housewives of Plastic Surgery!"

...that's not the name, Anakin.

"Sometimes I question your choices," Atton told him, "But fine. Don't they have that on a whole loop the whole time on some Earth holo thing?"

"I think so," Anakin said. "It always seems to be on when I'm flipping channels for something that's not a cartoon."

Atton grabbed around until he found the remote and turned on the television.

It took him all of two button presses to get the show on.

"There," he said, "Now we're talking."

Sort of?

"We need pizza or ice cream or popcorn to throw at these people," Anakin declared after two seconds of watching.

"All I've got is microwave pizza that hasn't been microwaved yet," Atton said, shrugging.

Without Sparkle to do his grocery runs, he pretty much defaulted to the very basics.

"I know how to make that!" Anakin said a little gleefully.

...it was takeout or delivery or Poptarts in the Skywalker home.

"You know where the kitchen is," Atton said, gesturing vaguely towards it. "Don't break it."

"The kitchen or the pizza?" Anakin asked.

"Both?" Atton offered.

He was in his mellow drunk stages.

"That might be setting the bar too high," Anakin warned as he banged around the kitchen looking for a plate.

Atton had like, two, which he had only purchased because he'd wandered onto the island of IKEA in a fit of boredom.

He stretched out and put his feet on the coffee table, focusing on the karking stoopa television show.

Anakin returned a few minutes later. "Here you go," he said. "Two stupidly hot plates of lukewarm pizza."

He was a culinary wizard.

"How did you manage to set fire to the plates and not the pizza?" Atton asked. "That's some reverse wizardry right there."

"There's something wrong with your microwave," Anakin informed him.

There was nothing wrong with the microwave.

"It was fixed weeks ago," Atton retorted. "Sarah broke it."

"...was it a sex thing?" Anakin asked, wincing.

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