love me / spin the bottle

[B. DELORIA]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]"Kanari-what now?" He had no idea what that meant, but Butch was pretty certain it wasn't an insult. What would Eugene insult him for? He'd seemed to like Butch well enough, treated him better than some of the other people did. Case in point. Benny's chastisement had the collie sneering and shifting so that his long fur draped slightly over the shape of the collar. Wasn't like it'd change anything, but he wasn't going to cower under the damn thing, especially not for this bozo. He was all fluffed up and ready to rattle with him when Eugene did it for him. Nice as he'd been so far, he hadn't been expecting that, and Butch gave him a look like he'd grown a coupla new heads before shrugging it off. No point in- how'd the phrase go? Looking a horse gift in the mouth? That didn't seem right. Whatever. He wasn't gonna take it for granted. "What a square," he snorted, blue eyes rolling off Benny dismissively.

That he could get in trouble for, but it was nothing new.

His head perked up when he heard Val's voice, tail giving a single wag. He'd seen him reading over there a little while ago, but hadn't bothered him on account of knowing the guy got his panties in a twist whenever somebody interrupted his book-time. The little scars on his ears weren't just from outright picking fights with him. "C'mon, Nosebleed, don't be a drag. It'll be a blast." Stick up his ass, huh? He'd said that to him before, except for some reason, Butch didn't like hearing somebody else aiming it his way. That was Butch's job, yeah? "He ain't that way- he just likes his books, is all."

Of course, then the bastard had to join in and play. The one who'd chased Butch down the day he tried to run away, and his mouth took on an unhappy frown. Game wasn't looking like so much fun anymore, and he held still when Quill got up to go plant one on Eugene, staring murderously at the ground. "Get bent." If he got Quill on his own turn, he'd smash the damn bottle over his head and make a break for it. Val was smart enough to pick up on cues- he'd follow him. Then they could both cut out.

He forced his expression to even, watching the bottle as it spun, and when it finally slowed, it was pointing his way. Smirking, the collie padded around the glass, and made to try and kiss him straight on, but got his cheek at the last second. With a glint in his eye, he sauntered back to his spot. "No fun in getting straight to it." Butch gave the bottle a nudge, willing it to not land on Quill.