Technoblade sighed as he watched Wilbur smirk at him from across the bar. He twirled the glass that held alcohol in his fingers and brought it to his lips, taking a sip. He gave Wilbur a side glance as he sauntered up and threw an arm around his shoulders, leaning dangerously close. Close in a way that wasn’t hot or burning or cold, but in a way that was warm and familiar- like a brother’s hug.

“Boss said to relax.” Wilbur drawled, his breath smelling of alcohol. He wouldn’t put it past the brunette to get lit tonight, with the promise of a break. He couldn’t tell if the stubbornness and passion of the other disgusted or amused him.

“I am relaxing.” Technoblade snapped, setting the glass down harshly. He had accompanied Wilbur on the boss’ orders, nothing more- nothing less. His shoulders were still as tense as it would be outside or on the battlefield. His hands itching to hover over the gun that he wasn’t allowed to bring that night, confiscated and locked tight inside his boss’ drawer after an order for him to go and catch a break.

“Well, I know a better way to do that.” Wilbur giggled, looking at the bartender and nodded. All the time, he had his stupid pretty boy smirk and Technoblade was regretting ever agreeing to coming to the club. He knew of the many plans and strategies Wilbur was capable of making, he knew of the promises of pain or pleasure that he was capable of bringing. He was no idiot, Phil wouldn’t ever accept someone into such a high position had he been anything like that. No, Wilbur was too smart and observant for his own good. “Have fun ‘relaxing’ I’m going to go find Sally.”

Techno rolled his eyes, reaching for his drink but pausing when he registered it being filled up and made eye contact with the bartender, {{user}}, from their name tag.