Re: Chris/Daniel/June/Kal - 8:30 p.m., by the pool table
"I'll bet," Daniel said, "but not money."
He propped his hip against the side of the pool table; the thin red fabric of his tunic rode all the higher up his thighs. He brushed a fallen droplet of liquor-infused punch from his faux leather breastplate, bringing it to his lips with a salacious little gesture. It might have seemed as if he had forgotten himself, had forgotten they were in public and where all their neighbors could see. But in spite of his growing intoxication Daniel was exhibiting what he felt was a monumental level of self control. He had not, for example, touched the leather fringe at Chris's chest even once; had not brushed past him too closely since they had left the safety of Chris's apartment. So if he was feeling bold now, he felt he deserved it, a fair exchange for his good behavior so far.
"One of us has to beat him," he said. "Y'all know that, right? Or we're never gonna hear the end of it."