— vingt-trois ; twenty three —

"SO, ARE YOU SOME kind of hotshot celebrity now?"

Henri was struggling to remember all the different drink orders he'd received from the large group at the bar and tapping it into the cashier, so it took him a moment to realise Zena's question was directed towards him. It was the first shift they were working together since Henri's first, as he'd been placed with other older bartenders when he worked during the week. She was drying off a rack of tumblers with a cloth and looking at him expectantly.

"What?" he frowned.

"I'm a student at Edgar Allan, too," she said, which wasn't all that surprising. She looked older than him but still young enough to be a student. The only other bartender close to his own age. "I've seen the news, same as anyone else who studies here."

Henri tapped a button and the cash slot popped open. "I'm not a hotshot celebrity, that would be Jean. I'm just his younger brother."

"That's a matter of opinion," Zena said. "You play Exy as good as him?"

"I don't think I can give an objective answer to that."

Zena leant against the counter. "I guess we'll find out at the game next Friday, hm? You look just like him," she commented, earning Henri's full attention for the first time during the conversation. His hands stilled on the bottle of prosecco he'd reached for and he turned to look at her. "Same hair, same eyes. I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you."

"Did you know him?" Henri asked.

"Hmmm, I suppose that's one way of putting it." Henri looked at her suspiciously when she just smirked. "What's the deal there? Recruiting you to the Ravens only after he left?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Henri said, pouring the bubbly prosecco into the cocktail glass. "You and everyone else."

"Still playing the mysterious role I see. Is that why you chose this place to work at? To avoid the truth coming out?"

"You've thought it through more than I did," Henri admitted. "In all honesty, I didn't even consider that. I just needed a place that would hire me regardless of my age, no questions asked."

"Nineteen?"

Henri didn't get a chance to respond, because he had apparently taken too long putting together the drinks and one of the guys in the group snapped his fingers impatiently in Henri's face. Henri gritted his teeth, considered the merit of spitting in his drink, and finished the order. Even though this was his fourth time working behind the bar, he still had to consult the menu or Zena every so often to make sure he added the right amount of coffee liquor or raspberry vodka. Some of the drinks he made were downright bizarre, along with the discovery of what a Bloody Mary was.

He was working a longer shift of six hours tonight, from nine till two in the morning. He'd be exhausted for morning practice but at least it was a Saturday and he could catch up during the day on the sleep he missed at night. Unfortunately for him, the late hour meant more creepy pedos were on the prowl, and he ended up dragged into a conversation with one who refused to leave him alone.

"You're pretty good with your hands there." The man leant against the bar and smirked at Henri as he poured out the fourth brandy he had ordered. "Anything else they're good at?"

"No," Henri said coolly.

"Well, that's a shame," he drawled. "Maybe we could change that?"

Henri slid the drink across the bar towards him and forced the most ingenious smile he could manage. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Your name would be a great start," the man replied. "I'll go first. Mine is Lewis."

"I don't care."

"Hey now," he said with a leer. "That any way to get a nice and generous tip?"

Henri glanced down the bar in search of another customer to give him an excuse to escape. That's what he did when he was stuck in a conversation that was getting a little too close for comfort and he had to remove himself from it before he said something he might regret. Unfortunately for him, Zena was already serving the only other person waiting and no one else needed a drink.

"Sorry," Henri said, only just managing to keep the edge out of his voice. "I can't give out personal details to customers."

"Well..." Lewis placed a hand on Henri's elbow and began sliding it up his arm. "Sure you can. We don't have to tell anyone."

Henri forced down his shiver of revulsion at his touch and took a step back out of his reach. Just as he was about to tell this guy to back the fuck up, rules be damned, he heard someone call his name. He glanced past Lewis to see Matthias waving him down, Xander next to him. Henri was more surprised at the familiar pair of green eyes with them. Soren looked as out of his element as Henri would expect in this place, surveying the surroundings with disdain and careful not to touch any of the surfaces. Right now, Henri didn't care why he'd descended from his condescending perch long enough to come here. He was just relieved he had an excuse to get away from this man.

"Henri?" The use of his name startled him back to the man in front of him and he realised he'd just lost the privacy of his identity thanks to Matthias's loud holler. The man smiled in a decidedly creepy way. "It suits you."

"Don't use my name," Henri said sharply. "And keep your hands to yourself. I won't tell you again."

He walked away before the conversation could continue any further, making his way towards Soren and the others. He was only a few steps away when he felt a hand at his elbow and he turned to see Zena, looking furious and a little flustered. Her cheeks were flushed, as if she'd been caught up in an argument and her wild curls were falling out of the messy bun she'd put them up into. Henri was about to ask if everything was okay when she grabbed his face and kissed him.

Henri froze, too startled to do anything more than stand there with his arms at his side and his eyes wide open. He wasn't sure how to react, as well as being very aware that Soren must have been watching this, and was wondering whether this was a part of the job description Liza had failed to mention during training when Zena pulled away. She didn't give him a chance to speak, looping her arms around his neck as if they were caught up in a passionate embrace and raising her mouth to his ear.

"Play along," she whispered, too low for anyone but Henri to catch. "I'll explain later. For now, make this look convincing and I'll split my tips with you."

Henri still didn't have a clue what was going on, but her words were clarification that this wasn't brought about by a sudden bout of attraction and there was something more to it. Motivated by the promise of extra tips, Henri moved his hands up to her waist and pressed his lips against her. Now that he was returning the kiss rather than standing there dumbly, his lips parted involuntarily beneath her mouth and he felt the light scrape of metal against his tongue. It took his muddled mind a moment to realise what it was — a tongue stud. Henri didn't even know she had one and now he was exploring it with his mouth before he'd even seen it with his eyes.

Henri had forgotten how different kissing girls felt from kissing guys. Girls were more delicate, all curves and soft edges, with Zena's long curls tickling his face. Neither was preferable to the other, but Henri felt like he could crush a girl if he squeezed too hard whereas he felt like the one who could be crushed with a guy. Girls didn't feel as hard or unyielding beneath his hands, or kiss with as much force or intensity. But maybe that wasn't guys — maybe that was just Soren. The lack of heat blazing up in his chest was definitely because of Soren.

Zena was undeniably pretty and a good kisser, but something was lacking, and that something was Soren.

A hand at Henri's collar yanked him back. "Hey," Liza said, looking less than impressed as she looked between him and Zena. "I like to think I run a pretty lax system around here, but I draw the line at this. You guys got another agenda you wanna see to, you do it on your own time. Not behind the bar. Understand?"

"Yeah," Henri said, absently swiping his tongue across his lip and shooting Zena a bemused look. "Sorry."

"Sorry, Liza. It was my fault. It won't happen again," Zena assured her, and waited until Liza moved to the other end of the bar before turning to the guy she'd been serving earlier with a scowl. "See, asshole? He's my boyfriend. We are done and I'm never getting back with you, so leave me the fuck alone Tom or I will file a restraining order."

Tom just laughed. "Just wait, baby. You'll come running back when he grows bored of you, just like the others."

"Fuck you," Zena shot back, heated. "I'd shoot myself in the face before I touched you again."

"Who the hell are you trying to fool?" Tom raised his beer as if in silent toast. "I'm the only one who would be willing to put up with you, baby. I'll see you in my bed soon enough."

Zena flipped him the finger and without another word, turned on her heel to stalk into the storage room. Henri had little choice but to continue to where his teammates were waiting and carefully avoid Zena's ex-boyfriend's gaze, pretending he couldn't feel him boring holes into his head with his eyes. Henri didn't want to get dragged into that mess anymore than Zena had already done and hoped she hadn't forgotten her deal to split her tips with him for that show he'd put on.

"What are you guys doing here?" Henri asked, hoping to bypass the entire conversation on what just happened by changing the topic.

No such luck.

"Um, hello? Since when have you had a girlfriend?" Matthias demanded. "No, scratch that, I have a more pressing issue — since when were you not gay?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Henri said, pouring out a gin and tonic that consisted of mostly gin with a little bit of tonic water thrown in. No one had ordered it and it wasn't for any of the customers — Henri needed a little alcohol in his system to get through the rest of this night. "And I've never been gay. I'm bi."

Henri downed the gin and tonic and found it gave him the courage to finally look at Soren. The kiss hadn't meant anything to Henri and he seriously doubted it would mean anything to Soren — they weren't dating, and they'd never discussed being exclusive, so why would he care who Henri kissed? Soren's expression was unreadable, the same poker face he fell back on that made it so difficult to read what he was thinking, but Henri wasn't going to leave it that easily. Soren narrowed his eyes when Henri didn't look away and Henri smirked in response. He was rewarded with a flicker of irritation that Soren couldn't quite mask.

"Does she know that?" Xander asked, and at Henri's confused look, he elaborated, "that she isn't your girlfriend?"

"She sure seemed to think she was from the way she stuck her tongue down your throat," Matthias added with a grin.

"It was a ruse to get her ex off her back," Henri guessed, glancing back at Tom. He was sipping his beer and his gaze was less than friendly when it met Henri's. "Trust me, we aren't dating. She's just my coworker."

"If that's how you treat your coworkers, maybe I'll sign up for a job here," Matthias said cheekily.

Henri rolled his eyes. "Do any of you actually want a drink or are you just here to harass me?"

"Don't you get enough of that?" Soren'a voice was unfazed but there was a silent challenge in his gaze. "Harassment, I mean."

"And how does that concern you?"

Soren raised a shoulder in a shrug. "I never said it did."

"Then why are you here?"

"Boredom," Soren said. "Entertainment. And I want a drink."

"Since when do you drink?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?"

"I've never seen you drink before."

"There's plenty you don't know about me."

"Really? Like what?"

Soren's lip curled. "Wouldn't you like to know."

For the first time during their exchange, Henri realised Matthias was being uncharacteristically quiet. He was looking between the two of them with interest and curiosity that could never bode well, because it would lead to questions Henri wasn't in the mood to deal with. Xander's expression was only slightly less unnerving. He was smiling slightly, a knowing smile that Henri didn't trust. Henri didn't know what they both saw in that conversation and didn't dwell on it long, turning his attention back to Soren.

"Okay then." Henri set out three shot glasses along the bar and grabbed a tequila bottle from the shelf. Without lowering his gaze from Soren's, he filled the shot glasses to the brim, not caring about the tequila that spilled over the sides. "Go ahead. Drink."

"Alone?"

It took Henri a moment to realise what he was saying. "I'm working," he said. "I can't drink on the job."

"That was an awful lot of gin for someone not drinking on the job."

Henri gritted his teeth and glanced down the bar, checking Liza wasn't watching. She was occupied with a large group that had just entered and she had no reason to question Henri's motives, because technically, he was dealing with customers. Zena was still out of sight in the storage room. He only hesitated for a second longer before setting out another three shot glasses alongside the ones already sitting on the bar, topping them up with more tequila.

"Five each," Henri said. "Try to keep up, Solberg."

"Should we really let Henri drink again?" Matthias asked no one in particular, but he was grinning. "And we get to see Soren drunk. This really is shaping up to be an interesting night. I bet Aria wishes she'd come now."

"I don't get drunk," Soren said, irritated.

"Everyone gets drunk," Henri said. "With the right amount of alcohol."

"Oh, are you supposed to be some kind of expert? A seventeen year old?"

Henri scoffed. "You don't have to be an expert to know how alcohol works."

"Hey, who's going to pay for these?" Xander wondered. "Shots are pretty expensive. I don't — "

"Don't ruin it, Xander!" Matthias dug out his wallet and waved it in Henri's face. "Drinks on me tonight. Feel free to go through with your little drinking contest. I am literally paying to see this."

Henri picked up one of the shots, sloshing a little from how high he'd filled them, and waited for Soren to take his own. "I'm getting fired if anyone finds out I did this," Henri warned.

"Good," Soren said.

They knocked the shot back together and the burn down the back of his throat was beginning to feel familiar, if not pleasant. Henri didn't have time to consider the bitter taste because Soren was already reaching for the second shot and he wasn't about to fall behind. By the time they both slammed down the third shot glass, Henri was already feeling it. He wasn't drunk but he was well on his way if he had anymore. Luckily, he was sober enough to know he was going to have to collect his money from Liza, who would be less than pleased if she found him drunk. He had no intentions of getting fired anytime soon.

He did, however, want to see Soren drunk. Which is why he poured out another four shots, sliding two towards Soren and the other two towards Matthias.

"Dropping out so soon?" Soren taunted.

"I'm not stupid enough to be bribed into getting smashed unless I want to be." Henri nodded to Matthias. "What are you waiting for? Start drinking."

Matthias grinned. "Yes, sir."

While Xander settled for a considerably tamer beer, Soren and Matthias raced each other with shots as if their life depended on it. He understood now why the upperclassmen had used alcohol in their hazings to get as much entertainment as possible from them. Watching Matthias and Soren deteriorate to every level of intoxicated was a considerably more amusing and enlightening experience when Henri wasn't struggling to control his own body. Amusing because Matthias was trying to chat up a barstool. The enlightening part came when Zena approached him at the end of their shift, when he'd just stepped outside with the others after collecting his money.

"I owe you an explanation," she said, before he could say anything. "I know that. But I can't give it to you right now, because my ride's waiting for me outside. Talk later?"

"Okay," Henri said, even though he had a pretty good grasp on the situation. He could feel Soren staring at him, more intensely than he ever did in public, and it was making Henri's nerves tingle. He was grateful Xander was too busy patting Matthias's back as he threw up in a nearby bush to notice. "Talk later."

"Here." She pressed coins into his palm. "A thank you in advance, for not freaking out."

"Freak out?" They both turned to look at Soren at his scornful question, although the slight slur to his words lessened the effect. "And why the hell would he freak out? Kissing — no, making out with — a girl is any guy's dream. He should be thanking you."

Zena's frowned at Henri. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah," Henri said absently, unable to look away from Soren. He was trying very hard not to read into the very obvious bitterness to Soren's tone but it was difficult not to when Soren was looking at him like that. "Exy teammate."

"Captain, you piece of shit," Soren scowled. "I'm the captain. And maybe I should thank both of you because I got to spend the evening doing, what? Watching you two exchanging spit? I can't imagine anything I'd want to waste my time on more. Really."

"We kissed once," Zena said. "It's not a big deal. Why do you care, anyway?"

Soren pinned her with an icy look. "Was I asking for your opinion?"

"Guess I gave it anyway." Zena looked pissed off as she brushed past Henri down the road, glancing at him as she passed. "Your teammate is an asshole. I hope he knows that."

"Trust me, he knows," Henri muttered.

The walk back to Castle Evermore took three times longer than it should have. The cold air had sobered up Henri completely and Xander hadn't drunk much in the first place, but the same couldn't be said for the other two. Soren was clearly unsteady on his feet and swayed into lampposts one too many times, but snapped at Henri any time he tried to stop Soren knocking himself out. Matthias was considerably worse. Xander was pretty much dragging him along for the last stretch and they had to stop any time needed to puke. Finally, they were all back in the Nest and Henri pushed Soren into their bedroom.

Soren didn't even wait for him to close the door. He slammed it shut behind Henri and shoved him back against it, his mouth hot and hungry. Henri instinctively brought his hands up to Soren's hair, tangling them in the thick gold strands, but Soren wasn't in the mood to go slow. He whipped Henri's shirt off and his own followed soon after, and Henri moaned against his lips when Soren pressed him harder against the wall with the weight of his body. Henri began moving his palms down the strong planes of Soren's shoulder blades, only for Soren to grab his wrists and pin them above his head with one hand, the other working his zipper.

"What, I'm not allowed to touch you now?" Henri murmured, almost unable to think around the wild pounding of his heart and the hot rush of blood through his body.

"No." Soren dug his fingers into the sensitive skin just above the waistband of Henri's jeans, teasing him inches from where he was desperate to be touched. "You don't get to touch me, not after today."

Henri forced his eyes open to see Soren glaring down at him with blazing green eyes. "Soren," he said, unable to keep the smirk off his lips, "does it bother you that Zena kissed me?"

"Does it bother me?" Henri gasped when Soren's hand slipped into his jeans and gripped him, hard enough to hurt and still sending sparks of heat shooting through his body at the touch. "Yes, it fucking bothers me. I don't want to see you shoving your tongue down someone else's throat. I don't want to see you touching anyone but me."

"Yeah?" Henri tipped his head up and kissed Soren, fierce and burning with desire, trying to hide just how pleased his furious words made him. "But you're not letting me touch you now. Maybe I should go and see whether Zena — " He broke off with a ground out, "Fuck," when Soren began moving his hand with merciless speed, and his knees buckled as every muscle in his body melted. He would have slumped against the door if Soren wasn't still holding him up by the wrists with a bruising grip. Henri's head arched back as he lost all coherent thought, coming closer to the edge with every stroke, and he was seconds away from coming when the hot weight of Soren's hand disappeared. Soren's mouth left his a moment later at the same time as he dropped Henri's wrists, and the air felt bitingly cold when Soren stepped back.

"If you want to see her so bad," Soren growled in a low and dangerous voice, "then maybe I won't touch you either."

"Jesus fuck, Soren," Henri groaned, hot and throbbing all over. "You have to finish me off."

"I don't have to do anything."

Henri reached out and snaked his arms around the back of Soren's neck, curling his hands in his hair and yanking him closer. Soren didn't resist but Henri could still feel the angry scowl twisting at his lips and if he wasn't aching with the need, he might have been able to relish in the triumph that he'd managed to piss Soren off so much by kissing someone else that he felt the need to stoop to revenge. As it was, all Henri could think about right now was Soren touching him again before he combusted or lost his mind, whichever came first.

"Are you going to make me beg for it?" Henri demanded.

Soren pressed his hips against Henri's. "Maybe I will."

"Soren," Henri said through clenched teeth, his final shreds of dignity gone to the wind when Soren began teasing his hands down Henri's chest. "Give it to me. Right now. Please."

"What will you give me?"

"Anything," Henri promised.

Soren responded by kissing him hard just as his hand moved back between Henri's legs, brushing him through the pants. Henri was so hard and close that that touch was enough to send him over the edge — he shuddered from the force of the release and when his lips parted on a moan, Soren's tongue slipped in his mouth. Soren pressed a firm hand against his chest to hold him up when he began sliding down the door with dizzying control. When Henri finally recovered, Soren's mouth still taking him apart one kiss at a time, he slipped his hand between their bodies.

Henri bit at his lower lip. "Your turn to beg for it."