CLUB TROPICANA! (Bros.)

Claude sat on the roof, sipping away on his cocktail (of which he wasn't entirely sure what it was), basking in the warm glow of the sun. Though the roof kind of brought slight winds. But this whole thing was totally awesome so the occasional chill was well worth it. He could think of no better way of spending his afternoon (did he have class?) than sunbathing on the rooftop of the school with his best friend.

With alcohol. And bikinis. And sunglasses. And little umbrellas for their drink.

"Where did you even have these things?" Claude asked, tugging at the outfit he was wearing. The pants occasionally needed adjusting. You could tell they weren't made for men. "Or is this one of those things that I just don't want to know? Ignorance is bliss type thing? Man these cocktails are good."

"Ugh, you're straight, you wouldn't understand," Theo said theatrically, before grinning and taking a sip of his cocktail. It was a very nice shade of orange. He couldn't seem to distract himself from that fact. "Nah, I have contacts. And Halloween parties. And you know, a reputation to maintain. Plus you know, you should be questioning why you're wearing it. Ah, do you know what I want? A grass skirt. When my birthday comes, do you wanna make me one?"

Sunbathing on the roof seemed to be one of their better ideas. Not that any of their ideas were bad. Theo didn't think he'd ever spent time with Claude that had been boring. But as their ideas went, this seemed to sum up a lot of things they liked. "Gosh, if only we were by a swimming pool," he said wistfully, though really the roof seemed just as cool.

Claude chuckled slightly, raising a brow. "You attend your halloween parties in a bikini? Though I have to say, I do love the pattern. If only I had more socially acceptable swimmers in this material. It's lush. And you should know by now that I don't question why I do the things I do. I'm not sure even a rocket scientist would be able to figure that one out. And I'm not a rocket scientist."

"If you want a grass skirt for your birthday, I will make you a grass skirt for your birthday. I will sit down and I will hand make you a grass skirt. Because I love you," he sipped on the tiny straw. "And we will dance and drink the night away."

"You and swimming pools. Though that would require us to be in the public eye for a much longer period of time, and I know I'm far too comfortable about this whole situation than I should be, but I think that would be pushing it a little bit."

"I have to be ready for Halloween, you know," Theo explained with a nod. "Anyway, the pattern is great. And I mean, you can always keep it. Frame it. Wall decoration. Put it up in your bedroom at home and think of me."

He grinned as Claude agreed to his demand, punching the air. "Could you write me little messages on the grass blades? Oh that would be so cool." He downed the rest of his cocktail, before putting a finger out, making a noise that suggested a new idea had come to him. "Plus we could hula together. Hula and drink must go well. You're right. This is a plan, Clarice."

Theo exhaled noisily, shrugging. "Publicity doesn't bother me. Drink some more of your drink and then you won't be either! Or we can stay on the roof. I think as a big pastey blob I could do with soaking up some rays."

“Well, this is definitely ready. Goodness knows what else you have in your costume wardrobe. Clearly I don’t need to go finding my own costume this year, if you’re this ready,” did he ever really prepare for Halloween? Did he ever really prepare for anything? “Oh, definitely. It can go on my ceiling, so I think of you every night before I go to sleep. Or wear it around my house. Under other clothing, of course. Don’t want my sister getting jealous.”

He choked slightly at the idea of little messages on the blades. “How small are these grass blades going to be? Though hula would make it all worth it. And what doesn’t go with drink?”

“You’re right, you are a big pastey blob who could do with soaking up some rays. And I need to drink more. Always need to drink more,” he put the glass down, picking up the pitcher that was next to him, and beginning to drink from there. “Here’s getting ready for some publicity!”

"See, aren't you glad you know me?" Theo asked with a grin, before sitting up and grabbing a towel, tying it aptly around his waist as he went to have a look around the roof. He hadn't been up here for a while. "Hey, do we have more umbrellas? I want one for my hair."

"Like, huge, unless you want to make me a pocket grass skirt. A grass bracelet. It would be beautiful. Anything you make me will be beautiful. You're beautiful." He grinned, before frowning. "Only thing about these things is that there's no room for your phone. Where are the pockets? They didn't think about that, did they?"

"Yes! I knew you'd warm to the idea! So I'll soak up the rays and you the alcohol, yessum? Sounds like a plaaaaan."

Claude was glad he knew Theo, he wasn't sure what he'd do without Theo. Probably what he was doing now, just minus the bikinis. "You want an unbrella for your hair?" Claude glanced down, fishing the one that had been in his drink out and tossing it in Theo's directing. "Catch."

"I am beautiful, aren't I?" Claude asked, stretching out across the chair. "I really don't think they were thinking about phones when they made them. But there's an idea: I could make your phone a grass skirt. Ha, then you get a grass skirt and you have somewhere to store your phone!"

Claude took a few (very) large gulps of liquid, before getting on his feet, feeling it rush to his head. "Right, towel, then I'm totally ready to go get you some eyecandy. Man I'd love some candy right now."

Theo, who was usually atrocious at catching, throwing and all other coordination requiring abilities, was wuite amazed when the umbrella landed on his chest. Laughing gleefully, he picked it up and waved it at Claude. "See! I do improve with drink!" he called as he slid it into his hair, trying to get it to stay put before resulting to tie it in with a strand of it.

"Well, there you have it, Claude Delanoir, you pretty little genius," he said, folding his arms. "You can invent a pocket grass skirt and become a millionaire. And then we could buy an island and live in swimwear. You could buy me a swimmer."

"Love me some eye candy, I do," Theo said with a grin, before swallowing the remainser of his cocktail. The trouble with them, he supposed, was that they were so sweet he kind of forgot that they were alcoholic a lot of the time. But at the moment he decided not to worry. "We should get some chocolate or something. Or you know, a milkshake. I love me a milkshake, I do. God, I keep talking like that. What is this?" He poked his tongue out and pretended to wipe it. "Anyway. Drinks abd giggles and eye candy and stuff. Lead the way, Clarice."

Claude applauded when Theo kind of caught the umbrella and waved it. “Oh wow, you really do. I’m very impressed. You just get better and better with each passing day. And look at that, it looks absolutely stunning on you. Really brings out your eyes.”

“It’ll be all the rage. Everyone who’s anyone will want one. And I will buy you a team of swimmers to swim around and walk around the island bay-watch style, men and women both, just for you,” yes. He was amazing.

“Right!” he stood up, still holding the pitcher, before he proceeded to down half of what was left, stopping to take a breath and hand it to Theo, stumbling slightly as he did so. Wow, lots in one go after standing up was head-spinning. “Onwards! To the milkshake-wait no, we were going to the swimming pool, weren’t we?”

"Do you really think so?" Theo replied, batting his eyelids multiple times, before something like grit got stuck in one and he slammed it shut, rubbing at it furiously. "I hate life what is this?"

He grinned at Claude, before putting on his best British accent (which he swore improved with his alcohol intake) and put his hands on his hips. "Careful, Claudesworth, I think you're gazeboed," he said, before stumbling a little and catching hold of the railing, cackling. "God, that's a long way down. I hope we don't fall."

"Why yes, we were on our way to the pool, but milkshake. Do you reckon they sell milkshakes at the pool? Hey, there might be a really fit waitress and then everyone is happy. See, I'm full of grand ideas, me."

Claude nearly peeled into fits of giggles-manly giggles mind you-as Theo got something in his eye. "You poor soul. At least you look pretty though. Beauty is pain. As is fluttering your eyelashes like a girl, apparently."

He actually did giggle-manliliy-at Theo's accent. "I'm tipsy. Totally just tipsy," why wouldn't his feet cooperate in convincing Theo he was tipsy? "Just...rushed to my head, that's all."

"Yes!" he pointed at Theo, eyes wide with wonder. "That is the best idea ever. A milkshake pool. And fit waitresses-we need to buy enough milkshakes to fill a pool. Or our bathtub. Oh dude this is the best idea ever."

"I am a fucking genius, aren't I?" Theo said, blinking and rubbing at his eye still, stumbling again and grabbing hold of Claude's shoulder, laughing. "Anyway. Yeah. What were we talking about? Cats or something. I love cats. I really hate dogs though."

"You're only tipsy?" He shook his head. "Oh my God. You are so tipsy if you're only tipsy. Unlike me. I'm very very sober."

"A milkshake pool would be so much fun. We could dive in and if someone was drowning we could just get a massive straw and drink it! Yumyumyum."

“Everyone knows you hate dogs. It’s really not a secret. Though dogs are amazing. Cats are so ‘ew no I don’t care about you’, but with a dog you get loyalty. And companionship. Cat’s just…don’t give a shit. Seriously, what don’t you like about dogs?”

Claude scoffed. “Sober, huh? Then,” he lifted the pitcher up to Theo’s lips. “I think it’s time for you to drink! Drink! Drink! Ohhh what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, early in the mornin’!”

“Exactly! It’s flawless plan! Lifeguards? Just have straws! There’d be no need to worry about people drowning, everyone would be more than happy to drink it up. Oh dude I want a milkshake so bad right now it’s insane.”

"Well you know, dogs are my spiders!" Theo protested, folding his arms, before shrugging. "Mind you, I really hate spiders too. Spiders are my spiders. Dogs are my dogs. Or something. Oooh beer."

He turned to look at Claude (as best as he could, Claude seemed to be wobbling into two people at the moment, which was very inconsiderate of him, Theo thought) and frowned. "Everything's wrong with dogs. They slobber and they smell and they bark and they're really fucking terrifying and one bit me and I'm still not completely sure I don't have rabies." Well he was sure, he wasn't frothing at the mouth or anything and he was still alive. But still. That was beside the point.

He started to laugh as Claude force-watered him with the pitcher, swallowing as best he could. Wow. This was going straight to his head. It was great. He started coughing and pushed the pitcher away, laughing, before turning away. "No, stop, stop, I don't want hiccups. I sound like a twat when I hiccup."

"I know you do. You just hate everything. Or every animal. Except me because I'm lovely, obviously. Or do you like cats, seeing as cats also hate everything? You'd have something in common with them then."

Claude rolled his eyes. "You don't have rabies. You're not foaming at the mouth or anything, are you?" he wasn't sure he could focus enough to tell. He grinned wickedly and stepped closer to Theo. "Aww, Theo, you don't like slobber? Not even my slobber?"

"You sound like a twat all the time, what you talking about?" he teased. "Oh, fine, we'll slow down. Go all nice and steady," he brought the pitcher to his lips and began drinking. "Ah, refreshing. And not hiccup-y."

"I love cats!" Theo replied. "And boys. And girls. And fish. But not dogs or spiders or politicians because for all I know the bastards are plotting to kill us all in some web, slobber and dickhead alli..allay... Allio... Alliance. Yes. Yes they are."

He grinned. "Aww, Claude. You're so cute to me. But if you slobber on me I will hurt you. Oh my gosh. Get away from me now." He stepped back and knocked into the railing, before putting a finger up to pause Claude and moving back into the centre of the roof.

"Cheers mate," he said, rolling his eyes (which made him feel slightly nauseous) and grabbing the pitcher back off of him. "I hope you're not suggesting I am a lightweight. For I, Theo, am not a lightweight. Amen."

"I bet politicians love dogs. I bet they have them as pets and stuff. Like 'look at me with my dog and family and how lovely and nice am I' type thing going on. It's all a mask. They secretly keep pet spiders that they're training and experimenting on to turn them into the things from Eight Legged Freaks," he wiggled his fingers in Theo's face. "They're coming ta get ya!"

He did pause in his slobber-threatening when Theo put the hand up. Though this was highly entertaining. "But I want to share my spit with you! How could you crush my hopes and dreams?! Besides, my slobber is like, mixed with your genetics, seeing as it's almost your sister's slobber."

"Then chug, chug, chug!" Claude chanted in a low voice, one hand rounds his mouth. "We are no lightweights! We are the heavyweight champions!"

"I'll bet the bastards do too," Theo agreed, pretending to shudder, before swaying queasily at the number of fingers that suddenly danced in front of his eyes. So maybe he was slightly tipsy now.

"You know," he said thoughtfully as he took another swig of drink, "I bet heavyweight boxers would look cute with kitten ears and whiskers. Did I just say that out loud?" He forgot about that sentence however as he let his jaw fall. "Oh my gosh, did you just say that? You did not just say that. I cry now."

He finished the rest of his pitcher and swayed dizzily, before offering his ARM to his companion. "Come. To find a swimming pool. I hope the stairs don't move about too much. That'd be shit."