11: Suho thinks he can hold his liquor just because his sister used to be a bartender. Lay's a bartender too and he's somehow gotten straight-laced Suho more than a little wasted. And on margaritas, of all things. Pairing!SuLay, Implied!Kaisoo, Fem!Kyungsoo

"Another!" Suho shouted raucously, trying to slam his glass to the ground and break it like he was Thor or something. Luckily, a hand shot out from across the bar and stopped him before he could do something he'd most definitely have to pay for in the morning.

"You're no fun at all," Suho slurred to the bartender who's hand it was that now held his empty glass. He did his best to flutter his eyelashes and look appealing so that Mr. Blurry Bartender would deliver the requested drink. "I said I wanted another," Suho repeated, just in case.

The bartender chuckled drily but shook his head. "I don't think so. You're a little too drunk, I think."

Suho looked at the bartender and leaned forward like he was about to tell the man the secret of the century. "But I only drink margaritas," he whispered loudly, then giggled.

Raising an eyebrow and smiling crookedly, the bartender leaned even closer so that their noses were almost touching. "I noticed."

Their proximity made Suho gulp, so he kept talking in hopes that his rambling would cancel out his nerves. "I don't understand though," he pondered aloud. "It usually takes a lot more than this to make me wasted." He turned to the bartender and asked—for clarification—"I am wasted, right?"

"Pretty sure," the man chuckled.

"Pretty," Suho echoed, drinking in the man's slim, dancer figure like he would have another margarita. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" He accused suddenly, not sounding at all disturbed by the idea.

The bartender wasn't disturbed by the offhand accusation either, it seemed. In fact, he laughed deeply at Suho as the latter groaned and rested his head on the bar—it was so hot all of a sudden.

"Actually," the man informed Suho good naturedly, clearly used to dealing with drunks much worse than this, "that woman you're with—girlfriend maybe?—hasn't stopped you. Maybe she's the one trying to seduce you with alcohol."

The bartender hoped that the drunk man in front of him wouldn't catch the slight slip of a confession that if he were the one getting Suho drunk, seduction would most definitely be the end goal. Fortunately for him, Suho missed that in his inebriated state and instead focused on the bartender's other insinuation. "Kyungsoo is not my girlfriend," he clarified firmly. "I don't swing that way. Also," he added with a disgusted shake of his head, "try assuming sister next time. Gross."

"My apologies." The bartender's dimples betrayed his amusement as he grabbed a rag and started to dry and put away some empty glasses.

"Accepted on one condition," Suho tried bargaining with a hiccup and a dreamy smile. "Your name, and another margarita."

"Pick one," the bartender commanded, barking a laugh. "That was two."

"If I chose your name will that get me another margarita eventually?" Suho looked hopefully up at the bartender, resting his chin in his palms and widening his eyes a little.

"Not tonight it won't." The man remained unmoving and Suho huffed; he'd really thought that would work. "But you're cute," the man continued, blinding Suho with his dimples and making him think that the bartender was pretty cute too. "So give me a call once tomorrow's hangover wears off, and I'll see what I can do." He winked at Suho before turning away to attend to another customer.

Kyungsoo came back from the bathroom sometime while Suho was waiting for the return of the bartender's attention. She was looking a lot more disheveled than earlier and her make up was definitely smudged.

"Naughty," Suho tsked cheekily, yelping with a laugh when his sister took a swing and socked him hard in the arm for that comment. "Was he cute?" He wanted to know.

She hit him again and he whined a petulant "Ow," while she nodded with a satisfied smile. Kyungsoo gestured with a bob of her head toward the bartender and asked with as much cheek as her brother, "And yours?"

He nudged her hard into silence when the man in question looked over with a smile. Suho gave a little wave before flushing in embarrassment and hiding his face with his sister's bag. "We should go," he urged, feeling the effects of the alcohol hit him suddenly with the weight of a freight train.

"You're drunk already?" Kyungsoo was incredulous; she couldn't have been with Kai for anymore than 20 minutes, yet her brother's face was indeed beginning to show signs of the Asian Glow. "What did he give you?"

"Just margaritas," he giggled, sounding sheepish and wondering why.

Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow, looking concerned. "Cubed ice or crushed?"

Ah! That's why Suho was feeling sheepish. "I believe that would be cubed," he confessed guiltily.

His sister rolled her eyes at him—the form of his ice wasn't that big of a deal—but didn't withhold her judgement of his choices. "Silly," she scolded, "you know how drunk you get when there's no ice to slow you down. Remember that one time when I used to work here and we experimented on you?"

Suho nodded and then groaned because the movement sent bullets through his brain. "When there's crushed ice for me to chew, it takes about 6 margaritas—made by you—before my face starts getting red. Otherwise I'm pretty wasted after 4, even on a full stomach." He recited this from memory as he recalled the awful hangover he'd had both nights, regardless of how much alcohol he'd imbibed.

"Tomorrow's gonna ," he whimpered, clutching his pounding head and signaling to his sister that it was about time for them to be going.

Kyungsoo sighed, but waggled her fingers and kissed the air in Kai's direction, making a phone with her hand in the universal gesture of "Call me later." He smiled at her and winked as she struggled to prop her brother's body weight up against her own.

She was surprised when the bartender appeared at her side with a polite "Let me help you with that. It's partly my fault he's like this anyway."

"I can walk!" Suho yelled indignantly, his words begin to slur again.

"Uhuh," the bartender soothed, holding Suho firmly in his arms while Kyungsoo grabbed her bag and her brother's blazer.

Once they reached the car, Kyungsoo, who remembered how little the pay was when she'd worked there, tried to tip the bartender a crisp $10 bill for her thanks. To her amazement, the man refused the money in her hand and offered her something else instead.

"For your brother," he clarified to the confusion on her face, "for when he wakes up."

Kyungsoo smiled at him and inwardly cheered that her brother had still somehow gotten lucky while also completely drunk. The sibling in question had passed out by that point, beginning to snore as soon as the bartender got him safely into the car. The man grinned at the sight and flashed his dimples adorably, muttering "Cute," under his breath as he wished Kyungsoo a "Good night" and went back inside.

Suho woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a mouth that felt full of fluff, but it was not the aspirin or the water or the eye shades that he reached for first. Instead, he remembered enough to think of dimples, a dancer's body, and a crooked smile, and grabbed eagerly for the folded paper sitting on the far end of the bedside table. He had a hard time focusing on the scrawled writing—his head was still pounding and his vision blurred—but he could read enough to make out three short letters: LAY.

As for the phone number he assumed he would find underneath the name, Suho gave up on trying to read that, and figured he'd sleep a little more and call Lay later. The bartender had promised him a post-hangover margarita, after all.