k i s s i s s i p p i

finally finding some time to type some of this rubbish up

Teddy shakes his head to clear it and claps Eli on the shoulder to turn them back to the bar. “And three—”
 
“I thought this list was only two items long,” Eli says, but he’s smirking, the hard line of his lips cracking enough that he’ll probably let this go. For now. Which will have to be enough.
 
“Shh, I changed my mind,” Teddy says, gesturing with his drink. “Anyway, three, I am not an asshole. Have you ever met a pastry chef that wasn’t an asshole? I think it’s bred into them.”

“Ha ha,” Eli mutters and signals the bartender for a couple of shots.

“Ergo,” Teddy continues, because he’s not dignifying that with an acknowledgement, “I cannot be a pastry chef. I’d make you a chart if I had a pen.”

“You can make me a Venn diagram tomorrow,” Eli says. “A special post-hangover cookie Venn diagram.”

“Only if you make me a post-hangover ‘I will quit bringing this up all the time’ omelette,” Teddy replies.

“We’ll see,” Eli says, holding up his shot glass.

Teddy waves his free hand at him. “To doing what makes us happy.”

“And inconveniencing our friends in the process,” Eli says, clinks, and drinks.

Teddy has to wait until he’s finished his own before he can sock Eli in the arm, but it’s worth it.