Carol / Constantine
It was really easy to get drunk when the glasses refilled themselves. It was a neat trick, one that John could do too, but had never tried on such a large scale, admittedly. It was good magic. He was impressed.
He was also maybe drunk and thinking about it too much. He had, in fact, poured a few drinks out for the homies just to see the glasses refill again.
He'd also, somewhere along the way, lost his trenchcoat on someone's porch, lit the wrong end of a cigarette and going into a bit of a fit, and also loosened his tie enough where any attempt he'd ever made at professionality was done and gone.
Which. Was fine. Because he wasn't looking for professional. He was mostly just -- just. Looking at Carol. Because she was having a grand fucking time on the dance floor and it was entrancing.