How To Fall From Grace [MxM]

Step 5: Fall into a door frame

Damien glanced over his shoulder at him with a pitying expression but didn't stop talking to the tavern owner. At that point the table full of Marius' friends had started chanting 'sit with us' and Frey took a silent, trembling breath.

Marius looked mildly concerned at first considering Frey's status, especially with the presence of his employer further away, but he eventually joined in on the chanting anyway.

Frey tried murdering them all with his gaze, but failing to do so he instead walked over as discreetly as he could.

"Listen," he hissed. "I'm not going to sit with you. I wouldn't step inside the door of this place if I didn't have to, and I certainly would not drink with commoners."

He thought that'd do it, but the talkative friend held up his hand as if whispering to his friends despite him almost yelling.

"He can't hold his liquor."

The rest of the friends simultaneously said 'ah' and Frey closed his eyes in frustration.

"That's not what I said."

"No, no, it's fine!" Oliver raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "I bet whatever overpriced bottles you higher ups share wouldn't be enough to get anyone drunk in the first place so it's understandable!"

"It's the opposite!" Frey raised his chin. "I wouldn't even call... Whatever this is—" He gestured at the glasses on the table. "—Proper drinks. I'd bet it's the disgusting remains from when good whiskey was made and diluted with water, at best."

"Well I suppose worms like us will never know whether or not that's true." Oliver smiled triumphantly and Frey scowled. He knew he was being manipulated, but part of him wanted to allow it. He wanted to show that low life scum just how different they were, so he turned around and marched up to the bar.

"I'll take your most expensive bottle," he said to the owner, and Damien arched his eyebrows at him.

"Frey?"

"Now." Frey didn't acknowledge Damien. He received a fairly expensive bottle, not so expensive it shocked him but good enough, and returned to the table.

"Let's compare them then."

"Am I supposed to pay for that?" Damien's voice called out behind him but Frey was too focused on the people in front of him to care. Marius' friend opened the bottle and began pouring drinks for everyone around the table. He then poured another drink for Frey. One from a bottle they'd had there since earlier.

"You sure you can drink it? Perhaps it'll burn through a sensitive throat like yours?" he taunted Frey, and the latter reluctantly considered the possibility for a moment as he studied the liquid inside his glass, but he wouldn't back down. He'd rather have his body take a blow than his pride. So he took a long sip of the cheap liquid, and to his surprise it wasn't bad. He wasn't sure he could tell the difference between this and the brand he was used to. It irked him. Why was their whiskey decent? Maybe even good? He refused to acknowledge it, and he forcefully curled his lip as if it'd tasted awful.

"You know it just might." He placed the glass down on the table. "Burn through my throat that is. I'm surprised any of you can drink this filth."

Marius, who'd just taken a small sip of the expensive whiskey frowned and seemed to linger on the taste.

"I mean... It's good, but is it that good?"

"You've gotta compare them thoroughly then!" Marius' friend switched places of their glasses. "Now try the expensive one, Lord Clausson!"

Frey looked at the glass in front of him with wide eyed horror. Drinking from a glass someone had already drank from? It just wasn't happening.

"No," he therefore said, and the others gave him disappointed looks but it changed nothing. Frey couldn't do it, even if they'd been of a higher social class. Of course, Marius' friend would have the last word then.