Gabe had turned to look before even thinking whether there was any of the faculty he'd care to see naked; that tone of voice on Pete provoked Pavlovian curiosity. And actually, when he thought about it, the answer was mostly why-not, with the occasional hell-yes.
"One of the wrestles-with-danger types?" Gabe hazarded, craning his neck. There was a rambunctious tropical shrub in the way. "Wearing a grass skirt?"
Frankly, he was too sober for this shit. He was too sober for this week, and he had been all damn week. But when he looked back it was to see his drink - HIS DRINK! - whizzing off to another corner of the room. Couldn't even see where, could only point and say, "Hey!"