Shartos Drabbles and Oneshots

At the Bar

The first time Spartos meets him is at the bar. He's just drinking and enjoying his time with a good friend of his, Masrur. The drinks are few enough, and completely free. For them, anyway. Somehow, Masrur just points at random people throughout the bar and tells the bartender to put it on their tab. And it works. One of his favorites, Spartos notices, is a white-haired guy with tanned skin. He stuck out, sure. Spartos think he's an old friend or something, or maybe an old lover. He definitely seemed like Masrur's type at least.

Spartos is enjoying his conversation with Masrur, about their high school antics, when two more people show up; Pisti and Yamuraiha. The two were also a part of their group, though Pisti is still a senior in high school.

"How did you get in?" Spartos has to ask, because his curiosity won't let him live it down.

"I made a fake ID, duh." Pits answers, flashing said ID in his face.

Spartos takes the ID and examines it. "...this says you're thirty-three."

"Yeah. So? That's older than twenty-one, isn't it?"

"That's eleven years old than me." He deadpans. "And you don't look it."

"Well I do enough to get in, don't I?" She retorts, snatching her ID back and tucking it safely away in her purse.

"Who's paying for the drinks?" Yamuraiha asks as the bartender sends her her usual. "You guys seem to have had quite a few."

"I have no idea." Spartos answers honestly. He motions to Masrur. "He just points at people and puts it on their tab. It's crazy."

"That's smart!" Yamuraiha praises, grinning. "Is there anyone specific or just a few different people?"

"Well, he's chosen that guy quite a few times." Spartos answers, motioning without pointing at said guy, who was across the bar chatting with some woman.

"He looks like a douche." She whispers. "Do you think Masrur's slept with him before?"

Spartos shrugs, taking a long sip of his drink. "I'm not sure. That's sort of what I assumed though."

"You know what they say about assuming though."

Spartos grins slightly, earning a brilliant smile from her.

Eventually the group moves to a table to eat dinner, which they also put on that guy's tab. Now, Spartos is just amused. Do they not tell people? Especially when he hadn't been seen with them once. But, he supposes, it doesn't matter. Surely, if they had told him, he would've said something. And what he didn't know wouldn't kill him, right? ...But it could leave him bankrupt. What if he wasn't all that rich, and only came for a drink or two? What if he was struggling financially at the moment? Spartos wonders this, the guilt rising up in his stomach.

His attention is snapped back when their food arrives. Spartos doesn't realize how hungry he's been until he smells it, and his stomach growls in response. He flushes slightly in embarrassment. It seems Pisti's the only one who noticed and giggles lightly. Spartos shakes his head and digs into his chicken salad. He picks out all the carrots first, though. Carrots are gross, and evil. Or so, his brother made him believe his entire life. Even at twenty-two years old, Spartos refuses to eat them.

He nearly chokes on a piece of chicken when someone approaches their table. And who else but the guy they'd been charging? Spartos nearly panics and hastily takes a long sip of his drink to resist the urge to actually choke. The guy doesn't look all that pissed. Only curious.

"Are you guys putting all your stuff on my tab?" He asks in a tone or accent that makes him sound like a surfer or something.

Spartos glances at the others but Masrur answers before he can even do anything. "Yeah."