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The apartment was already a mess. The low, steady thump of music vibrated through the floorboards, half-empty glasses littered every available surface, and an upturned whiskey bottle leaked amber liquid onto the scratched wood of the coffee table. A haze of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, curling lazily toward the ceiling where it blurred the glow of a flickering lightbulb.
Ran was sprawled on the floor like he owned the place—because, well, he did. His long legs were stretched out carelessly, one knee propped up as he leaned back on one arm, his lean frame draped in a loose black shirt and ripped jeans. The tips of his purple hair were tousled, falling into his face in messy waves. He held a tumbler of whiskey in his free hand, the liquid catching the dim light and flashing gold as he swirled it with lazy precision.
A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, the kind of smile that always spelled trouble—slow, teasing, and far too confident. The faint scent of alcohol clung to his skin, mingling with the smoke and the faint traces of cologne that lingered from earlier. He looked utterly at ease, draped across the floor like a lazy king surveying his chaotic domain.
Rindou was equally wrecked, sprawled on the couch in a position that made his lanky frame look boneless. His head lolled against the armrest, dark hair mussed from running his hands through it too many times, and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink from the alcohol coursing through his system. His own glass dangled precariously from his fingers, sloshing faintly as he turned his head to blink blearily at Ran.
“Y’know,” Rindou slured, his voice thick and a little too loud for the quiet room, “yesterday was the twins’ birthday.”
Ran blinked, then snorted. His smirk deepened, golden eyes glinting with mischief as he turned his head, hair falling across his cheek.
“Oh?” he drawled, his tone light but edged with something sharper. “And you’re just remembering that now?”
Rindou’s brows knitted together, frowning. “I’m just sayin’. It feels kinda dumb that we didn’t do anything. Like, we’re sitting here drinking for your birthday, but theirs was literally yesterday.”
Ran smirked, tipping his glass back. “So you’re saying I should go swing by tomorrow, huh? Wish Smiley a happy birthday in person?”
Rindou groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “That’s so stupid , bro.”
Ran turned his head lazily, his grin sharp and a little dangerous. “You’re not telling me not to, though.”
Rindou hesitated, his cheeks colouring even more. “…Don’t make it weird. It’s just…you’re already drunk, and you’d make a fool of yourself. Besides, you’re not even subtle about your crush on him.”
Ran laughed a low and easy sound. “Like you’re any better with Angry? Please. If I’m obvious, you’re an open book.”
Rindou’s glare was half-hearted, more embarrassed than angry. “Shut up.”
The door banged open with all the grace of a hurricane, and in strolled Izana, wearing that insufferable smirk that seemed to dare everyone in the room to challenge him. His white hair caught the low light as he leaned against the frame, sharp eyes glittering with amusement. Kakucho followed close behind, arms crossed over his chest, an expression that was already a mix of weary resignation and faint fondness—like he was used to being pulled along in Izana’s reckless wake. Kakucho’s gaze lingered just a little longer on Izana than necessary, his lips twitching as if he was fighting a smile at his partner’s theatrics.
“Looks like the Haitani brothers are throwing a real rager,” Izana drawled, stepping over a discarded cushion. “Or is this just a sad, drunken mess to celebrate Ran’s birthday?”
Ran, who was too far gone to care, grinned up at him. “We’re having a great time, thanks for asking. Want a drink?”
Kakucho sighed but grabbed a glass anyway, settling onto the arm of the couch. “You two always drink like this?”
“Only on special occasions ,” Ran said, smirking at Rindou, who groaned into the couch cushions.
Somewhere between Izana stealing Ran’s glass and Kakucho resigning himself to their nonsense, the idea to invite more people surfaced. It was a blur of texts and calls, and soon enough, Mochizuki, Muto, and Madarame showed up with more booze than anyone needed.
“ This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done, ” Rindou muttered into his drink as Madarame popped a bottle of sake and poured it straight into Ran’s glass.
“I think it’s genius,” Ran grinned, his head tipped back, laughter spilling out.
By the time the night was fully spiralling into chaos, the apartment was packed and smelled like a liquor store exploded. The sharp bite of whiskey, the subtle fruitiness of sake, and the earthy burn of cigarettes twisted through the air. Voices overlapped—loud, slurred laughter, someone arguing playfully about a game of cards that had been abandoned on the table, the clatter of empty glasses hitting the floor.
Ran was draped over the back of the couch, one leg hooked lazily over the armrest as he scrolled through his phone with a lopsided smirk, sending increasingly incoherent messages to Smiley.
Nahoya ❤💝
com e ower
belated birthday surorise ;)
dont prend u dont wnaa see me
u + me = fireworks 💥
ifin k i xan c tne fsycjing moon from isdine the wall s s
woooooovfooooooooofoofvooooovdosooooooooooo
Rindou, slumped beside him, snatched at the phone with a groan, his own face flushed deep pink. “ Brooo , you’re gonna scare him off,” he slurred, though he couldn’t quite keep the grin off his face.
“ He loves me, ” Ran shot back, half-laughing as he dodged Rindou’s grab, nearly toppling off the couch in the process.
Across the room, Izana was now drunkenly pressed up against Kakucho, his usual composed smirk now softened into something a little loopy. “You, me,” he murmured, voice low and teasing as he nosed against Kakucho’s neck. “We should show them how it’s done.”
Kakucho, cheeks flushed and lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, shook his head and sighed as if trying to resist. But then Izana caught him off guard, leaning in to kiss him slow and messy, tasting of sake and laughter. Someone nearby wolf-whistled, and Izana flipped them off without breaking the kiss, dragging Kakucho closer by the waistband of his jeans.
“God, you’re embarrassing,” Kakucho mumbled against his lips, but his hands didn’t leave Izana’s shoulders.
Meanwhile, Mochizuki was trying (and failing) to stack shot glasses into a precarious tower, which Madarame kept knocking over every time he passed by, laughing like an idiot. Muto, ever the quiet presence, had somehow ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor with an untouched drink, scrolling through his phone while chaos erupted around him—though even he couldn’t suppress a crooked smile when Izana pulled Kakucho into his lap, both of them drunk and grinning like fools.
“Hey,” Rindou muttered, elbowing Ran weakly as he slumped further into the cushions. “If you’re going to text Smiley all night, I might as well call Angry and tell him you’re hopeless.”
Ran cracked an eye open, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Rindou raised his phone threateningly, but his fingers were trembling too much to even unlock the screen. “Bet you twenty bucks I do,” he slurred.
The room burst into another round of raucous laughter as someone accidentally spilled a full beer onto the carpet. Someone else started an impromptu arm-wrestling match, which ended in two people falling into the coffee table, sending cards and glasses scattering.
Over the din, Ran’s phone buzzed, and he squinted at the message that popped up.
Nahoya ❤💝
lol ur drunk.
but if you want I can come over tommorow lmao
u owe me cake for tryna decipher whatever those msgs were.
Ran’s heart skipped a beat, the alcohol haze suddenly sharpened with anticipation. He grinned, catlike, and whispered just loud enough for Rindou to hear, “Looks like the real party’s about to start.”
And Rindou, caught between laughing and dying of embarrassment, could only watch and pray that somehow, by the time morning came, they wouldn’t remember any of this.