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[hisfinessearchive]

@kgbredperil i’m drunk and crying.

         ❝ Slivovitz, ❞ he confirmed, bottle in hand. ❝ ---A taste of home for you, I’m certain. ❞ Though, in Solo’s opinion, it tasted quite a lot like some form of paint thinner. ( Not that he knew what it tasted like---but it was offensive enough to the senses that he had reason enough to believe that it was the case. )

        He didn’t wait for Kuryakin to clarify if he’d wanted a glass, pouring some for him without a word. It seemed, at that point, that Solo was fairly intent on having his favorite Russian join him for a drink, claiming the glass intended for him and lifting it in offering.

         ❝ Neither of us have to be up early, Peril. ❞ Indicative enough. If he didn’t understand, however, there was a deliberate bow of his head; Solo looked up at him from beneath his lashes, and the grin that quirked the corners of his lips was positively wicked. ❝ I’d say a night of celebration is in order, if you’re not opposed. ❞