It was 7:50 when the alarm went off. James groaned and sat up, slapping the alarm off. He got up and went to the bathroom.
Today's the day I get bloody drunk with the hottest guy in the world, he thought. Sighing, he walked back to his room. He had just finished changing when he heard a shout outside.
"Ja~ames!"
James opened the window and looked out. "Larson?"
The figure on the ground under his window smiled.
"Larson, what are you doing here?" He glanced at his clock. Eight o'clock on the dot. "I thought you meant eight PM not AM!"
"Well, you thought wrong! Now get your ass down here!"
James closed the window and looked around his room for a minute. "Shoes," he noted. "I need shoes." He quickly located some sneakers and a moment later was standing in front of Larson.
"Hello, James," Larson smiled wide.
"You crazy son of a – next time specify."
Larson just shrugged. "Too late now. Let's go." He turned and started walking away. James sighed and followed.
~o///o~
A few hours later, they were in the arcade, up a few beers and down a considerable amount of cash.
"What now?" James asked after losing yet another racing game to Larson. "I'm getting sick of losing to you."
Larson laughed, "Come on. I have an idea." He looked at his watch. "Only 1:48! Guess that means it's time to get something to eat."
James out his hand on his stomach, feeling it grumble. "I think that's a good idea."
They walked over to the arcade's café.
"What to eat, what to eat?" Larson tapped his finger on his chin.
James laid his arms on the table, resting his head on them. "Let's just get a pizza or something. I'm so hungry."
"Pizza it is." Larson waved over a waitress. She was young, pretty, with light brown hair.
"What can I get you guys?" She smiled cheerfully, obviously noticing how ridiculously good-looking Larson was.
"Just a cheese pizza," he winked.
She smiled, blushing, and walked off.
When she was out of hearing range, James groaned. "Well, that was gross."
"What?" Larson looked offended.
"You hitting on her like that," James lifted his head.
"I wasn't hitting on her."
"Then what was the – never mind." He rested his head back on his arms.
"I wasn't," Larson persisted.
"If you say so." James closed his eyes.
Five minutes later, Larson shook him awake.
"Pizza's here," he said.
"Oh." James sat up and stretched. He took a slice. Biting off a piece, he said, "Sorry for getting agitated, but it seems like you aim to sell yourself everywhere."
"Well, duh." Larson gave James a confused face. "It's like you don't know that that is how I make money."
"By fucking people?"
"No," Larson sat back. "Buy fucking them good."
James snorted, "I'm sure." He rolled his eyes and groaned as Larson winked at some girls at another table.
"What?" Larson whined.
"At least resist when you're with me." James finished off his piece of pizza.
"Don't think of it as hitting on people. Think of it as job scouting."
James laughed, choking on his bite of pizza. "Whatever." He put the rest of his piece down. "Let's just go get drunk."
Larson stood. "Sounds good."
James also stood as Larson took out a twenty and placed it on the table.
"That's like four times what the pizza actually costs," James gasped.
"I know." Larson put his arm around James' shoulders and led him out to the street.