You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Quality Time

Belly heavy with food, Jack leans back in his chair, giving a content sigh. Mark and Ken chatter away across the table, but Jack lost track of the conversation a while ago. Not that it's too big of a deal, though. Only their expressions and tones are enough to keep Jack entertained.

The restaurant is far nicer than he normally eats, with tuxedoed waiters and dim lighting. It is fancy enough to were he feels as if he should have dressed up a bit, having only removed his hoodie. While jeans,  a long sleeve shirt, and a beanie may have been fine for the airport, it is a bit lax for this place.

"Did everyone have a good dinner?" the waiter asks, approaching the table. There is a unanimous nods. "Excellent. Can I interest you gentlemen in anything else?"

At the shake of their heads, the waiter continues, "Okay, then just give me a minute to grab the check. How would you like it split up?"

"I've got it," Felix says, handing a card to the waiter. The other men appear surprised but hold their concerns.

"I'll be back in a moment," the waiter assures, taking the card.

"You didn't have to pay, Felix," Mark mentions, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I could have gotten it."

"Yeah," Jack agrees. "I don't have a problem carrying my own weight."

"I think I deserve it considering I have to sleep with you," Ken jokes, taking a sip from his drink.

Felix gives him a small jab to the ribs, before saying, "I need you guys to have plenty of money for the bar. Because I am going to drink all of you under the table."

Ken snorts, loud and obnoxious. "I would love to see your scrawny, Swedish ass drink even half of what I can."

"That sounds like a wager, Ken," Felix replied smoothly, though he is throwing a nasty glare.

"Wait, guys," Jack interrupts. "I can't drink."

"Of course you can drink!" Felix interjects. "You're Irish."

Jack consciously stops himself from rolling his eyes. "No I mean I promised Signe I won't drink."

"Come on, man," Felix insists. "It'll be fun. She'll never know."

"This is our last night together for another, what, three months?" Mark agrees.

"Mark, you can't even drink," Jack reminds him.

"I actually can," Mark smiles. "I got some new pills a while back, and they work wonders. I'm set to drink my way through a brewery."

"I'm always down for proving Felix wrong," Ken says. "And I could stand to get drunk to do it."

"Come on, Jack!" Felix encourages. "We'll keep it just between us."

"I don't know. I just talked about it with her a few hours ago. I don't want to go back on what I said."

"She'll never know," Felix assures. "And it will be so much fun. Come on. One last night with the boys."

Jack drums his fingers on the table, biting at his lip. "Oh, okay, fine. I'm in."

"Yes! Now onto the little wager," Felix smirks devilishly. "Whoever drinks the least has to pay."

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay for dinner then, Felix?" Mark asks. "Because it really isn't going to be fair for you to have to pay for dinner and drinks."

"We'll see about that," Felix laughs.

The waiter comes back with Felix's card, giving it to the Swede. The four leave the restaurant for the bar tucked along the back of the hotel. Felix leads the march, determined, while Jack and Mark hang back a bit.

"You okay with drinking?" Mark asks the Irishman.

Jack nods, a bit tight. "Yeah. I mean I want to drink and have a good time. And it should be fine. There is no way she will know if there isn't even a charge for it."

"That sounded a bit cocky, Jackaboy," Mark decides, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Luck of the Irish," Jack plays back. "What makes you so confident, Mr. Iplier?"

"Well I am wearing my lucky flannel," Mark reminds him, motioning to his shirt. The flannel is buttoned up, leaving only one open at the top, and the sleeve are pushed up to his elbows.

"I'm not sure what fashion sense has to do with drinking," Jack teases, pushing the sleeves on his Berlin shirt up as well.

"You'll see," Mark assures, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

Felix leads them into the bar. It's a nice place, with lots of polished wood, that reminds him a bit of home. Felix leads them up to the bar, dropping onto a bar stool. The three other men sit down as Felix orders the first of the drinks.

The bartender brings a small shot glass carrying a clear liquid, setting one in front of each of the men. To its side, they put a tall glass of amber beer, nodding at Felix when he puts his card down, telling the server to keep his tab open.

Felix raises his shot. "To another successful convention and many more to come."

"To free food and liquid," Ken amends.

"To great friends and good memories," Mark adds.

When the three look down at Jack, waiting for his addition, he gives a embarrassed little chuckle, saying the first thing that comes to his mind. "To surviving this night and Signe."

The other men give smiles and chuckles before they toss their drinks back.

"One down," Felix says, taking a sip of his beer, "many more to go."