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The question of the night, Henry had decided, was "how closely can two men cling to eachother before they begin to act decidedly not-very-heterosexual?". It was relevant to the current scenario, in the fact that Jimmy- the one that really liked to party- was draped onto his back like a drunken, bruised cape. He didn't feel much like royalty in it, but it was almost a comfort regardless. Despite how stupid Jimmy was being.
"What a fuckin riot, Christ, you'd think little hands like those wouldn't hit so hard!" voice slurring as he absentmindedly rubbed his cheek, Jimmy griped about the experience a minute prior. "Wasn't trying to be rude, jus'said she was hot..." He was ignoring the part where he tripped into her like a total ass.
Henry wasn't, but he didn't have the voice to retort at Jimmy with. He settled for an incredulous raise-of-the-eyebrow. Jimmy got it immediately; their silent language was well learned by this point.
"Oh, not a fuckin word outta you, mate."
Henry's look got even more incredulous.
"You know what I mean!" he groaned, practically shoving his face into Henry's back following the exclamation. "C'mon, I jus' got rejected, have a bit of a heart, mate..."
Henry shook his head and shrugged, effectively communicating that he figured Jimmy deserved it. It might have been a bit harsh, really, but Henry tended to be pretty direct. He also might have been... The littlest bit petty, though he wouldn't admit that to himself. Not entirely. It was just the protective sort of clinginess that comes with only having one really close friend, of course. Henry knew that to be true- only that.
"Yer just jealous I get so much ass an' you know it! C'mon, why don't you ever get out there? You're a big, handsome fucker, go have some damn fun for once!" He punctuated the statement by grabbing Henry's whiskey from his hand and finishing the rest of it in a huge, gulping swig, head thrown back with the action. It earned Jimmy a weak smack upside the head, messing up his crazy hair slightly more.
Henry shook his head as Jimmy motioned someone to get them more drinks. The mute wasn't jealous, not of Jimmy. In his own mind, he wasn't jealous at all, of anyone. He tapped his finger on the counter of the bar beside them, as if to indicate that THIS was where his "fun" was. He was never as big into the club and partying scene as Jimmy seemed to be. The music was nice, and atmosphere was always okay, but he couldn't even talk to people. If he could, he likely wouldn't have much to say anyway. Doing anything but drinking felt like an awkward dead end of options he'd rather avoid.
Jimmy wasn't settling for the lame answer. "What, you nervous? Come on, I'll be your wingman! Just hang out with me more, man! It feels more boring without you fuckin- doing your damn thing."
He tilted his head at Jimmy.
"The shadowing! You're like a damn bodyguard, an' I'm the President! As the leader of this great nation, I'm gonna have you 'rrested for murder." He watched Henry's face get even more questioning. "You're killing the party!"
Henry subconsciously wondered just WHICH nation Jimmy was supposedly the leader of, before internally settling upon the idea that
he was the president of Jimmy, which happened to be a nation of many people, all men, who were all actually the same person, kinda. A very small and loud and drunk nation. He took a lot of vacations there, he mused.
Henry didn't have much more of a response to the Jimmy in front of him, the President one. He offered a shrug, knowing it wouldn't be enough.
"You're killin' me, mate!" his hands, much thinner and more delicate than Henry's own, grabbed at his wrist and tugged. "Let's just go for oooonce!"
Henry thought Jimmy looked much like a child for a moment, before Jimmy's own two feet almost tripped him onto his face. Henry's reflexes were faster than gravity, his arms nigh-immediately pulling Jimmy's face away from kissing distance with the floor, and instead directly into Henry's shoulder.
Drink-addled, his mind took a second to follow the motion. Then he looked up, at Henry's slicked back hair, then his mouth, then his eyes. A thought rapped the door of his brain, then gracelessly pushed its way in.
"...ohhh, I get it. I get it now..." sleazy grin working its way onto his face, he suddenly tossed his arms over Henry's shoulders, nearly knocking the man back with the force of his body suddenly pressing into his. "You're so clingy cause you want me reeeal close, yeah? This close?"
Henry didn't have any way of reacting, words or no words. If he'd HAD words they'd have been knocked outta him when Jimmy pushed their chests so close that his heartbeat could be felt against the mute's internal battery softly humming. He felt like it should've been overloading.
The kiss was sloppy. Jimmy's head was angled to the right as he lunged forward, seeming less like a smooth romantic and more like an intoxicated, starving animal. His eyes were squeezed shut tight, his hands tiredly gripped and disheveled Henry's hair.
And Henry was standing there in utter shock, doing nothing, for less than a second, before inexplicably grabbing the back of Jimmy's drink-stained shirt to keep him there, doing whatever the fuck he was trying to do with his mouth that just sort-of resembled a functional kiss.
Dimly, in the back of his mind, Henry knew he wasn't drunk. Meaning that alcohol couldn't be the excuse for WHY he was so very immediately into this. He didn't think the "my only close friend" rule went as far as covering "I wanna make out with you so much holy shit let my mouth go all over you". That only left one other option, scratching at the back of his pounding head, ignored behind the thumping of his own nerves.
Henry found himself craving the taste of cheap and fruity alcohol as Jimmy threw his head back to breathe. It was on his tongue, in his mouth, and it was by all means unpleasant, but the sensation around it felt addicting. He didn't remember ever kissing anyone much, even with his past back in place, his mind only went as far back as any other average Joe's. Maybe this pulsing need was something new to him altogether.
He brought Jimmy back into it before the man could finish the remark he opened his mouth to spout. If his mouth was gonna be open, he could be using it in better ways than sassing him.
Jimmy seemed inclined to agree.
It was hard to keep up with the music thumping and the heat in the air and his tongue everywhere in his mouth, and their hands everywhere on the other in a blur, grabbing fistfuls of shirt and jacket and hair and hips. It was all so fast, so fast, and he usually kept up with fast so well, so easily, but something so overwhelming that it could take out all his shame in that instant, it was too much even for him. They had to wind down sometime, at some point, eventually-
Eventually they stop to breathe, to really breathe, mouths tired and faces red enough to see even in the dim lighting of the building, and Jimmy's eyes are wild and alive and electric, they kickstart Henry to attention despite the dizziness of everything else.
Henry isn't drunk. He's awake, he's so lucid, and so impulsive, and he realizes immediately that he's in love with Jimmy. Not the love he felt for Estelle, implanted into his head like a virus, forcing him through it with obligation. That was never love.
What Henry felt for Jimmy, though, was so much more. He couldn't imagine living without the man by his side, whichever one he happened to be at whatever time, all of them meant so much to him. He was a support desperately needed after the hell they'd been through. Jimmy, every one of him, was the only person Henry had ever known who he felt was worth protecting no matter the stakes, without the influence of anyone else forcing him to do it.
"Well, guess I guessed right 'bout you, then... did you just wanna go home, mate?"
The inquiry made Henry blink from its left-fieldedness. It seemed like Jimmy had known what he wanted to do before he even wanted to do it. Even as a coke-obsessed, inebriated toddler, Jimmy's intelligence wasn't fully impaired or damaged. Or he just knew how to read his silent companion so well by that point that his state-of-mind meant nothing. Henry nodded to Jimmy, his cheeks feeling as though a lighter had been held up to them, the sensation of embarrassment and being completely, utter floored and flustered remaining on his face. He felt his hand being taken, and Jimmy tried to walk with him to the door, before tripping again, and signalling Henry to snap back to reality completely. Jimmy's arm slung over his shoulders, Henry walked them out the front doors, towards their hotel room, and sleep, and a lot of questions in the morning.