Most would call Mouse a pushover. He would claim that he liked to pick his battles. Regarding the battle between him and Coyote over whether he should let Hangman drink himself under the table? He had decided to surrender.
Coyote seemed pleased, at first, until he had a dart stuck into the back of his hand.

"Holy shit," Coyote placed his uninjured hand against his mouth, which inadvertently muffled his shocked shout as Hangman swiftly yanked it out.

"Baby," Hangman rolled his eyes, lifting the dart closer toward him to eye the sharp point that had previously been embedded into the other pilot's skin.

"Oh my god," Coyote's face screwed into one of pure and unadulterated fear before looking at his friends who occupied the table beside him. "Your boyfriend's a sadist."

Mouse slapped a palm against his forehead, dragging it down his face as Phoenix chuckled from beside him.

Hangman tossed the dart at the board, watching as it narrowly missed Payback's shoulder and burrowed into the wall beside him. He shrugged his shoulders before flipping around, and sauntering toward the table.

"I'll have one of these." The blond grinned, hand reaching out toward the last full glass of alcohol. Mouse's hand darted out, covering the top of the drink with his palm.

"Nope." He shot out, looking up to meet Hangman's frown. "That's enough."

"That's not fair." Hangman muttered, clearly miffed as he gestured a hand wildly behind him. "Coyote's had way more than me."

"When you start to play dart roulette, that might be the cut off point." Bob suggested from his seat.

"Robert," Hangman pointed a finger in the other's direction, eyes still focused on his tormentor. "Someday you'll go far." He dropped his gaze to the drink, willing it to levitate toward him. "And I hope you stay there."

"Jake," Mouse reprimanded, frowning. Bob seemed unfazed, but Mouse slid the shot glass toward Hangman with a quick shove, spilling half of its contents onto the wooden tabletop below. He leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyed the glass, easily ignoring the man before him.

"I'm sorry, Bob." Hangman was quick to apologize, drunkenly stumbling to deposit himself into the chair beside Mouse. Bob rolled his eyes, clearly amused, before diving into a conversation with Phoenix. Hangman leaned down to rest his forehead against Mouse's shoulder. The brunet ignored him, which caused the pilot to pull away with a guilty pout.

"Quit being mean." Mouse chastised quietly, still pointedly keeping his eyes off of the other.

"I'm sorry." Hangman whined, leaning toward to rest both hands at either of Mouse's hips. He slid one of them fluidly up his side, causing Mouse's inhale of breath to turn shaky. He leaned forward, mouth moving to rest just above his ear.
"Let's go to mine. I can make up for it."

Mouse's entire body shivered, hand rushing out to grip at Hangman's knee, to which the pilot chuckled in response.

"Don't think we're moving a little too fast?" Mouse muttered, charmed by the other's antics as he pulled away to eye Hangman.
"You haven't even taken me out on a date."

"Please," Hangman scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw a hand haphazardly toward their group of friends before snaking it around the small of Mouse's back. "We're in the military, honey. Everyone's half expecting us to get married at this point." He leaned further into Mouse's space, grinning.
"I can take you out on a date as soon as we get back. I'll wine and dine you so hard."

Mouse shook his head, smiling in quiet amusement. Hangman took it as confirmation, assuming he'd scored big. He immediately stood, a hand in Mouse's own tugging the shorter man with him.
"No time to waste!" Hangman shouted, ignoring the glances brought their way by their friends, jogging toward the exit.

"Hey, I never said—" Mouse muttered in protest, frantic. "You should be sober before we do anything."

Rooster was near the bar, making his way back to the table with a few bottles of water. He stopped in his tracks at the duo, eyeing them warily.

"I can take care of that." Hangman solved the problem easily, snatching two bottles out of Rooster's hands.

"I'm—" Rooster began, brows furrowing, before he faltered. "Not going to ask." He grumbled, pushing past Hangman.

"Wait!" Mouse shouted, but Rooster soldiered on, much to the other's chagrin. He gave up on flagging the man down, instead turning to face his own pilot, tugging at his hand in an attempt to free himself. They made it past the doors and into the cool air outside, which at that point Hangman dropped his hand in favor for chugging a bottle of water in near record time.

"Nope." Mouse muttered, beginning the trek to his car in determination. "I'm taking you home—"

"Exactly." Hangman smirked, jogging to catch up with him. Mouse turned to eye him with a glare, noticing the other was already on his second bottle of water.

"Where I will drop you off, alone." Mouse pressed onward, throwing his door open, and pointedly eyeing the passenger side before finding his seat.

"Come on," Hangman urged once he climbed in on the other side. He placed a confident hand at Mouse's knee, sliding it upward to rest at the inside of his thigh.
"We'll be leaving tomorrow. An important, very dangerous mission." He lead on, hand kneading gently as he lifted his hand even further up Mouse's thigh.
"I might need a little good luck."

"No." Mouse bit out, sighing. He pulled the car into drive, eyes watching through the windshield carefully. "After the mission. It'll be a reward for a job well done."

Hangman's head dropped into the head rest as he groaned loudly. He turned in his side, fixing the other man with a hurt expression.
"I'm never going to forgive you."

"Drink your water." Mouse smiled.