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[matadorable]

If you're hearing this message, I am probably not here. Or I am furiously pressing every button I can because I forgot how this thing works. One of the two! Either way, I will get back to you...eventually.

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[medalsome]

Heh, maybe you're right. [He shouldn't worry. But Newt also said some things that made him think more about himself and he would rather not do that ever, so it was time to change the subject.]

So it's... really the New Year now. Good ol' twenty sixteen.

... Time for another shot?

[matadorable]

[He's still not convinced Joaquin is okay with everything, but Manolo doesn't want to push him, least of all when they're supposed to be having fun together.]

Uh, yes? The first toast of the twenty sixteen. The twenty-sixteen toast. Has a nice ring to it!

[medalsome]

Twenty-sixteen... [Joaquin shook his head even as he pours out the next shot. He's almost afraid to hand the bottle over to Manolo but he's gotta trust his bro won't spill alcohol all over the bed.]

There isn't anything like knowing we're basically a hundred years in the future and drinking good future alcohol and still alive here in twenty-sixteen.

[matadorable]

[A snort.] There isn't anything like knowing we're a couple of old grandpappies, you mean.

[Manolo grows quiet as he intently focuses on getting the alcohol into Joaquin's glass without spilling even a single precious drop. Then, after handing it back over with a proud look, he adds in a more serious tone:]

But, no, you're right. I never would have dreamed this, not in a million years.

[medalsome]

We are kinda old men compared to everyone else here that's our age, huh? [Sometimes it was exhausting keeping up with all the new tech. At least he had his motorcycle to keep him feeling young.

He takes the glass and returns the sentiment just as seriously.]

Same here. So how about we drink to that, then. Not just twenty-sixteen, but to dreams beyond our dreams?

[It was stupidly sentimental but it encompassed quite a lot.]

[matadorable]

Just a little. [He's laughing a bit about it, though, cheeks rosy and eyes twinkling with amusement.]

To dreams beyond our dreams...[Manolo's voice takes on a softer tone at Joaquin's words.] I like that.

[He lightly taps his glass against Joaquin's.] Cheers, amigo.

[medalsome]

[This whole place seemed like a fever dream sometimes. It wasn't inaccurate.]

Hey, cheers. [A small sound came from the meeting of their glasses, and then they toss them back.]

I'm going to start seeing stars before the night is over.

[matadorable]

Hah, then we're probably doing it right.

[Manolo sets his glass down and leans back against the headboard of the bed, closing his eyes and unable to hide the dopey smile on his face.]

Any big plans for the year? Besides all that super-macho training of yours, I mean.

[medalsome]

[Joaquin chuckles and leans bad next to Manolo, releasing a long puff of air.]

Nah, not really. Training's the most important I think.

[He turns his head and reached up, giving Manolo's cheek a poke with his index finger.]

What about you? You got a big plan other than following me around when I train?

[matadorable]

[When Joaquin pokes him, he closes one eye and chuckles.]

Well, I've been working on some songs. Kind of like an album? I thought it would be kind of interesting to try. You know, just for fun.

[medalsome]

An album? Of your music?

[Joaquin blinks, then tries to sit up a bit so he can reach for the bottle.]

Well we gotta drink to that too, yeah? S'only right!

[matadorable]

[Manolo laughs.] Like we wouldn't just drink to everything already...

[medalsome]

Hey, it's an excuse to keep drinking!

[Not like they needed one; it was Joaquin's bottle that he was gifted so he would drink it if he pleased! But he would rather share it with his friend. It was a great occasion to indulge.]

[matadorable]

It's New Years! Literally everything is an excuse, hahah! [He holds out his glass for Joaquin.] But, okay. Here's to music, excuses, and excuses to make music!

[medalsome]

All the excuses... ever! [He laughs and pours the shot. It's a little messy but hey, they don't really care all that much at this point.]

Maybe I'll pour for myself this time...

[matadorable]

[As long as their glasses are full, that's all that matters!

Manolo snorts.]

What, you don't trust me?

[medalsome]

I hardly trust myself not to spill it! [And he's laughing at the same time, which isn't making pouring all that easy.

He raises the glass again, somewhat shaky.]

.... To whatever we decided! It's all the for the same result!

[Their bottle was nearly gone already but man, what a way to ring in the year!]

[matadorable]

Hahah! I like your tenacity. Let's drink to that too! [And he knocks the glass back, smacking his lips afterward.] Good stuff!

[medalsome]

Pffft, tenacity... [He doesn't know why that sounds funny right now.

Somehow he manages to collect their glasses and return them to the nightstand without breaking them or the bottle, then he flops down on the bed, giggling.]

Oh Christ... Manolo, I think we're already drunk...

[matadorable]

[Manolo falls back onto the bed beside his friend, staring up at the ceiling with flushed cheeks.] I don't know what you've been doing, amigo, but I've been drunk!

[medalsome]

[More giggling from Joaquin.] I never would have guessed!

[He reaches over and flicks the curl of Manolo's hair, watching it spring back into place. This only makes him laugh more, half burying his face into a pillow.]

[matadorable]

Excuse you! [His words are punctuated with laughter.] This hair is a family heirloom!

[medalsome]

Your face is a family heirloom!

[The fuck does that even mean? Joaquin doesn't know, it just sounds funny! So he laughs even more, his forehead falling to Manolo's shoulder.]

[matadorable]

Isn't it, though? [Sporting a toothy grin, he bats his brown eyes at Joaquin.]

[medalsome]

[Really, Manolo? You want your best bro to die from busting his gut? Joaquin doesn't think he has much more laughs in him and his ribs are starting to hurt.

Wheezing a little, his hands clutch weakly at Manolo's shirt.] You're killing me, Manny! Jesus Christ...

[Man, when did he get so tired? Laughing was an unspoken form of exercise.]