"You know what I like about you?" Garrett slurred as he leaned into his friend both as an emphasis and because that was the only way he could remain somewhat upright. Otherwise he would be having this lovely confession from the floor. "You're just... you're like this big... guy, you know? And you got... all this power to control earth and shit. I like that about you."

"You're drunk, man. You're so drunk," Leonard said, shaking his head. And he should know because, well, he was drunk too. It took far less to bring him down to this level. It was rare that he drank, and this was why.

"Pff," Garrett responded, rolling his eyes. "Duh." Well, at least he wasn't shy about it. "I also like that you're like... this big... guy. And then... at the end of the day you're just a big... softy. Like... a rock. But... a soft one." Yeah, even to him it didn't make any sense and he didn't care because... well, they were drinking copious amounts of alcohol (in Garrett's case, at any rate) in their own apartment, which even if it were sentient and had a sense of pride, would still call itself "crappy." Its not as if anyone would really care if they were drunk in their own place of residence.

"Oh... wow, you are drunk," Leonard chuckled. Normally this would annoy him, but it was entertaining after a couple shots. He pulled Garrett in a little closer and grinned. "Know what I like about you?"

"Oh yeah," Garrett replied. "You like that I'm sex on legs," he said into his bottle. Why bother with a glass, honestly? There were only two and they were dirty. Washing them meant getting up, and after having this much rum that was going to be an adventure. Besides, he was comfy right here on the floor.

"Well, it isn't your sense of humor," he snipped back at him, but kept him close nonetheless. "I like that you're not trying to be anyone else."

"Who else would I be? I'm about as good as it gets."

"You're drunk all the time, you steal, cheat and lie."

"Yup!"

"You're insecure about your age."

"I am not insecure about being 25."

"You follow women home in hopes of getting laid."

"And sometimes I'm successful." Leonard fell silent at this. His thick eyebrows shifted back and forth, slightly worried. Garrett was also worried: one minute he was being praised and another he wasn't. "Well, go on," he said, hoping that there was more.

Leonard stared at him for a moment, not sure what to say. "You know what? I forgot whether I was making a list of things that I like about you or a list of things I hate about you."

"Pff. You don't hate me. You love me too much to hate me. You're were like 'I care about you' and then pushed me into a wall. And if you said you hated me, you'd immediately apologize," he explained eloquently, using the bottle in his hand to gesture because he didn't feel like putting it down.

"The hell I would."

"I bet you twenty dollars."

"Fine. I hate you."

Garrett's lower lip quivered and his face became even more pathetic than a thirty-something year-old man who was in the process of draining an entire bottle of liquor. With every passing moment, he became more and more pitiful: his eyes bulged and filled with crocodile tears, his thin eyebrows turned upwards, it was like taking a toy away from a puppy. An unattractive puppy.

Leonard bit his lip, trying to resist that face. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying it, but in the end he still felt bad. He looked away. "I'msorryIdidn'tmeanit."

"Ahaaaa," Garrett exclaimed triumphantly. "You owe me twenty bucks."