[Honestly? Bakugou is fucking stunned. It's not unlike standing on the outskirts of the forest looking in every direction like a lost, utter moron. What is happening? What is fucking happening, and is this real life?
He stares as Todoroki lifts each glass and chugs the clear, awful liquid down. He just... stares. Slowly, one by one, ounce by ounce, Bakugou's win rolls burning down Todoroki's throat.
The last glass clinking on the table goes hand-in-hand with the clack of his teeth as he grits them.] ...You cop-out red and white bastard... [Both hands fold out to each side, palms up, and they start exploding gently but wildly, like a ground fountain firework.]
FUCK YOU! What the fucking hell was that?! You can't just drink all the goddamn glasses and not admit defeat!!
[He lets out a long, low, crying growl of absolute annoyance, bending over and gripping his thighs. Fine. FINE. Two can play at that game!!
He bolts unsteadily for his end of the table. Whatever drinks are left, he starts hefting them up one by one to likewise throw back the contents. The less full glasses are easier to manage. The bigger ones pull water to his eyes again, but the more he drinks, the more numb everything feels to the taste, the scald.
It's a wonder the last glass doesn't break when he slams it down on the table, but instead of staggering back, he topples over on the floor in a sit. UGH. He can't believe the nerve of this fucking guy!!]
[He's so angry and drunk and hot! He throws his hands over his back and digs the black tank top up and off his head, tossing it away wherever.] Turn off your goddamn heating unit, you boiler jackass! [He runs the back of his wrist over his mouth, and then drops onto the cool floor, his neck and collar glistening with sweat.] My room is turning into a fucking sauna!
[For the moment, he's okay. But in ten minutes or so, he's going to be wasted from all of the chugged vodka.]
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He stares as Todoroki lifts each glass and chugs the clear, awful liquid down. He just... stares. Slowly, one by one, ounce by ounce, Bakugou's win rolls burning down Todoroki's throat.
The last glass clinking on the table goes hand-in-hand with the clack of his teeth as he grits them.] ...You cop-out red and white bastard... [Both hands fold out to each side, palms up, and they start exploding gently but wildly, like a ground fountain firework.]
FUCK YOU! What the fucking hell was that?! You can't just drink all the goddamn glasses and not admit defeat!!
[He lets out a long, low, crying growl of absolute annoyance, bending over and gripping his thighs. Fine. FINE. Two can play at that game!!
He bolts unsteadily for his end of the table. Whatever drinks are left, he starts hefting them up one by one to likewise throw back the contents. The less full glasses are easier to manage. The bigger ones pull water to his eyes again, but the more he drinks, the more numb everything feels to the taste, the scald.
It's a wonder the last glass doesn't break when he slams it down on the table, but instead of staggering back, he topples over on the floor in a sit. UGH. He can't believe the nerve of this fucking guy!!]
[He's so angry and drunk and hot! He throws his hands over his back and digs the black tank top up and off his head, tossing it away wherever.] Turn off your goddamn heating unit, you boiler jackass! [He runs the back of his wrist over his mouth, and then drops onto the cool floor, his neck and collar glistening with sweat.] My room is turning into a fucking sauna!
[For the moment, he's okay. But in ten minutes or so, he's going to be wasted from all of the chugged vodka.]