Jogging (Open)

[Scott Summers]

"Bar hopping would be fun, but staying at home would be safer." Scott thought outloud. "After all, if we both get drunk, how would we get back?"

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro didn't feel up to the task of a diatribe about his metabolism. Scott was like he was, only able to cut loose to a point, before reigning himself in. Admittedly, the other man had more control over his passions, but tonight let the vodka wash that away.:: "Wanda is asleep in our room, so yours might be better."

[Scott Summers]

Scott shook his head. "I'm not ready to go back there. We'll just get a hotel room in the city if worse comes to worse I suppose." The room, that's where it happened. He wasn't sure if he'd ever feel right in that room, but moving meant being careful, keeping things as organized as possible. No, a hotel room would do fine.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro nodded slightly. Of course it had been a bedroom fight; he should have realized. Rising to his feet, he looked toward the mansion.:: "I will get the vodka."

[Scott Summers]

Scott nodded. He picked up a rock in his hand and tossed it at the lake. He wanted to see if the rock would sink to the bottom before Pietro got back. He betted on Pietro.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro began running towards the mansion, like a flash he was gone. Up in his room, he found the bag holding the vodka and some of his other purchases, also his wallet. He checked briefly on his sister, sleeping soundly, before dashing back out onto the grounds by the lake.::

[Scott Summers]

The rock was almost at the bottom when Pietro showed back up. "Welcome back." Scott greeted. He had registered that Pietro was gone, but it was only a few seconds ago. "So we just sit here and drink then?"

[Pietro Maximoff]

"If you want, or we could find another room," ::Pietro offered, sitting back down on the grass. He removed two bottles of vodka from the bag, handing one to Scott.::

[Scott Summers]

Scott took the vodka bottle. "This will be fine." He opened the bottle and took a whiff. Ugh. Vodka. It wasn't his favorite drink, espically not plan, but it would do. He took a sip. "Why Vodka?" He asked Pietro as the burning passed through his throat.

[Pietro Maximoff]

"I can feel it," ::Pietro replied with a shrug. It was strong enough to burn, which was all he could get from drinking.:: "There's scotch in Uncle's office."

[Scott Summers]

Scott shook his head. "Don't steal the Professor's scotch. I don't need a hangover and deal with him finding out the scotch is missing." He took another drink of the vodka, letting it burn.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro would have replaced it before anyone realized it was missing, but it was Scott's decision. He opened his own bottle of vodka and took a deep drink, the liquor burning as it slid down his throat.:: "As you wish."

[Scott Summers]

Scott took another swallow. The vodka was starting to affect him. His control was starting to waver some, and he could feel a tear run down his check. "What now Pietro? What do I do about her?"

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro took another swig of vodka, swirling it before it slid down his throat. He set the bottle down at Scott's question, turning slightly to look the other man in his sunglasses. What to do? It was the question of the hour.

Pietro Maximoff had never considered himself to be an advice columnist, particularly not for relationships. Wth his brief encounters over the years, his deep feelings for Typhoid and the situation with those would remain unresolved...However, he knew one thing for certain. If he were Scott, and Jean were his sister, he would not give up so easily.:: "Do you want her back?"

[Scott Summers]

"Badly" Scott answered simple, taking another swig of vodka. "That is, right now, the only thing I know for sure."