Richie Tozier / Bill Weasley
The shot hadn't been what Richie expected at all -- and he sort of went through at least three stages of grief before it settled in him and he kind of just decided he'd liked it. Once the burn was gone and only the warmth remained, anyway.
Bill took another shot, but Richie only chased his with the later half of the drink he'd been holding. Free hands were a prized possession at a party. "Misery loves company?" Richie asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and raising a questioning sort of eyebrow.
But Bill asked him to dance and yeah, okay, Richie did find the guy a little on the intimidating side. Not because he was scary or even because of who he was. Just because -- well. The guy was so confident in himself, so comfortable in his own skin and it was everything that Richie wasn't. But now, sort of, it was something he aspired to be a little more.
So yeah. He nodded. "I'm a shit dancer, all limbs and no rhythm. You might want one more shot before you commit to the humiliation that is being seen with me when music's playing." Luckily it was still just the Monster Mash and he could do that without any skill at all and still be fine.