Hunger

Hunger (malexmale LGBT)

Dante never liked to drink, at least not the burning disgusting liquid that so many drunks and idiots around him were guzzling down like their last days were upon them. The smell of the pub was enough to make him gag as it literally burned his nostrils. Nothing but putrid sweat and vomit and lord knows what else. He thought he smelled urine somewhere as well.

He decided not to think about it, forcing his mind on his own drink that lay still untouched on the table before him. He wondered just how long he'd been staring at it, staring at everyone else around him, all the while trying not to draw attention to himself….at least not yet.

He wondered how many people thought it strange for him to just come in, order some whiskey and leave it alone to collect dust. At that thought his hand twitched around the glass and he found himself bringing it to his lips…when suddenly a presence made itself known with a fit of coughing. Quietly he sat his drink back down and allowed himself a glance.

The man looked ready to drop. His clothes were tattered and worn with moth eaten holes everywhere. His eyes were puffy and red, either from sobbing or from his current drunken stupor. Dante guessed it was the latter judging from the pungent smell that was drifting from his trembling body.

Without thinking Dante brought a hand to his nose to try and shield from the smell. That's when the man glanced over. He didn't seem to notice or care that his very body odor was making his guest physically ill. Dante figured he was probably too inebriated to even see straight.

A drunken smile was offered as the man downed his drink, already looking for more. Just how many drinks had this piss-soaked man had? As he was fishing the money out for another drink, Dante felt the man's hand brush against his thigh. His immediate tensing caused the man to quickly pull away, embarrassment all over his red face.

"Oh…I…I'm surry…sir. Didn' qui' see you there. Sssorry…you alright?"

Dante blinked. As if that had caused him any harm, if anything it would have caused him grave shame and embarrassment had anyone seen anything. But thankfully it was late and not many people were out tonight. The snowstorm had seen to that.

Dante forced himself to smile and shook his head.

"Quite alright. I notice you're uh, not quite yourself…so it's forgiven." He flashed a light smirk as the man looked slightly confused.

"Not meself..…? Whatchu mean not meself?" He looked ready to slam his fist into Dante's face before realization finally hit his impaired brain. He let out a loud, highly grating, laugh that made Dante's head throb.

"OH!! I git it, now! Ah, yer funny, good siiiir! Yeh, I like the drink a lot, can't never stand the sober mind, right?" He grinned drooling a little as he eyed the untouched drink still on Dante's table.

"…You gonna drink that, right?" He pointed to the whiskey with a trembling and hopeful hand.

Dante glanced at the drink then quietly passed it over. The man took it gratefully and downed it in one disgusting gulp. Dante thought he might vomit himself at the display.

The man grimaced with a sigh.

"Hm…whiskey…not mah favorite but it'll do…" He pushed the empty glass away with his fingers and went to fish out some more money…only to find his pockets were empty. He sighed sadly.

"Spent all me money on drink again…" He went to stand, staggering as he did so. He looked around for a moment, only to sit back down. He didn't look ready to leave anytime soon but the bartender kept passing him rude glances. The man grimaced and glanced back.

"Guess I'll be going now…" The man was hinting at something….Dante could only guess a million things. Judging from his clothes and washed out appearance he probably was homeless. His mouth twitched as he went to stand, eyeing the man from behind his shoulder. He was growing more and more anxious and kept looking back at him.