How To Fall From Grace [MxM]

Step 5: Fall into a door frame

"So so... I take it you give up? You couldn't even stand a sip of actual whiskey?"

"I'm just not drinking from that glass!" Frey shoved the glass away, almost sending it off the edge of the other side of the table hadn't a girl sitting there grabbed it at the last second.

Marius frowned again, likely offended, but soon remembered who Frey was.

"We'll get another glass then. No reason for my Lord to taint his mouth with cheap whiskey and then be denied to get rid of the taste.

Frey leaned back against the chair with an arched eyebrow. He supposed the stable boy could show manners after all.

He received a new glass and took a sip of the expensive whiskey. Just as he'd thought he could hardly taste the difference. Did that mean the expensive brand wasn't that good? He looked over at Damien who was still talking to the owner and then back at the stable boy. He supposed he could try each brand a couple more times.

"So, my Lord..." The talkative friend brought out a coin. "Heads or tails?"

"What?" Frey shook his head in confusion as he placed down his glass on the table.

"Let's play a game. We'll flip a coin and each take turns to guess which side shows when it lands. If you guess wrong you either have to take a sip of your drink, or you have to remove an article of clothing."

The corner of Frey's mouth twitched.

"Seriously?"

"I mean, we'll all play of course," Marius chimed in before Frey could throw something at the other man's head.

"It would only get embarrassing if you can't handle a couple of drinks." Marius' obnoxious friend grinned and tossed the coin over to Marius. "Here. You go first."

"What's on the line?" Frey asked coldly. He could hardly believe himself. Any other time he would've just walked away. Why even waste his time on those bottom feeders? He glanced over at Marius and narrowed his eyes. For some illogical reason he didn't want to look bad in front of him, but it wasn't as though he had anything to prove. If he'd ignored it all he would still have lost nothing. He'd still be of higher rank and have his dignity intact, but that was the thing. Marius didn't seem to care much about that. Would he care about Frey's ability to drink though?

There was one way to find out.

"Bragging rights?" Marius' friend suggested with an arched eyebrow and Frey shook his head.

"As if I don't have enough of those."

Marius chuckled at that and held up the coin in front of his eyes.

"Look, it's not so much about winning as it is trying not to sit in the middle of a tavern with no clothes on, Lord Clausson." He flipped the coin and placed a hand over it as it landed, never breaking eye contact with Frey as he did. "Heads."

***

"How unnecessary," Damien muttered as he held Frey's arm over his shoulders.

"You're telling me," Frey slurred and almost tripped as he attempted to kick a pebble on the road. "I was winning and you just had to interrupt me."

"You were halfway off with your shirt!" Damien almost dropped him, and Frey had a feeling it may have been on purpose. "Was I supposed to just let you continue?"

"The others were worse off." Frey shrugged. "Some of them only had their undergarments left."

"Yes, but they also seemed less drunk."

"I'm not that drunk."

"Drunk enough to almost remove your clothes in a public space."

"Yes, alright, I get it." Frey waved his hand dismissively and shifted more of his weight onto Damien. "But Mazi and Lance were almost out of clothes and drunk, so there."

"I don't know who these people are, but I'm going to assume they'll be escorted out of there by a guard soon enough if that's the case." Damien shook his head and pushed Frey back so he'd stop leaning so heavily on him. "And if I hadn't intervened that could have been you. Honestly, Frey, I can understand young people of their class coming up with games like that, but they have so much less to lose than you do."

"Think they were gonna steal my clothes or something?"

Damien shrugged and held up a hand.

"Well now that you say it, maybe? But I was actually talking about your reputation."

Frey didn't reply to this but rolled his head to the side with a frown. They walked in silence for a while, the wrinkle in Frey's brow refusing to go away.

"I..." he began but closed his mouth again, trying to find the right words for what he was feeling. "Despite, you know, everything... I think— I think I had... Fun?"

Damien shot him a concerned look.

"With them?"

A nod.

"But you hate commoners," Damien continued, as if he had to pick up where Frey's personality had lost track of itself.

"Well, I mean... I'm supposed to, at least?" Frey shook his head. "It's what—"

His words choked and Damien knitted his eyebrows.

"... It's what you've been taught to think?"

"It's not like Father outright told me to hate them, he just made it very clear there's a difference between us and... I don't know, the disgust just kind of followed?" Frey held a hand against his scar and closed his eyes. He'd done his best to not think about his father this past year, not that his surroundings and constant nightmares made that an easy task.

"Well... It's not like you're a saint towards people regardless," Damien made an awkward attempt at making him feel better, but Frey's eyes narrowed.

"I know that." He drew in a trembling breath and continued with a whisper. "... I know everyone hates me."

Damien frowned but didn't say anything and Frey smiled weakly.

"Not even gonna try to object?" he asked, and Damien exhaled through his nose.

"It's not that. I'm just... Shocked. You've never cared about what people think, and especially not people of a lower class."

"I guess I'm not too concerned about everyone's opinion, but I thought..." Frey ran a hand through his hair. " Maybe it would be nice if... He didn't hate me..."

"Who?"

"... Marius."

Damien blinked.

"The stable boy?"

"Yeah, him."

Damien let out a hesitant laugh.

"You really are quite drunk, aren't you? I mean, I understand you're oversharing but this—"

"I just—" Frey interrupted louder than he'd intended. "I just think maybe, for once, it feels like I'd... Like a friend, or you know... Something."

Damien remained quiet for a while after that. It was possible Frey's sudden change in attitude had finally left him speechless, but as they approached the gates to the Hargreaves mansion he awkwardly patted Frey's shoulder.

"Well, if it's any consolation... I'm your friend?"

Frey gave him a faint smile.

"Yes, but... A friend my age perhaps? And preferably someone who hasn't practically raised me for more than a decade."

Damien frowned.

"You're making me feel old."

"That's not so surprising, since I'm pretty sure you've never been young."

"You know I could just drop you right here."

Frey blew raspberries.

"I could stand on my own if I wanted to."

So Damien let go of his arm and Frey took two steps before tripping over the doorstep, smacking his face against the door frame.