Dinah has both hands wrapped around Neil’s upper arm, half dragging him into the Bar & Grill with all the strength she has. He only digs his heels in a little to be annoying, but lets himself be pulled along for the most part. Of course, he’s not the biggest fan of drowning his woes in alcohol. He’s been there, done that, and suffered the terrible consequences. But he isn’t against ending his stressful week with some greasy food and a small buzz.

On their way to an open booth the waiter guides them to, Neil internally swears he’ll be mindful about drinking. After all, a hangover like the one he got in Vegas is one that’ll stay with him for a long time. Neil’s pretty sure he threw up more in those twenty four hours than he’s ever thrown up in his entire life. Not to mention the body aches, blackout memories, and surprise tattoo on the back of his neck which he keeps covered with his small ponytail. A crocodile. Of all things.

Neil limits his dissatisfaction to an exaggeratedly pointed look he fixes at Dinah. She completely ignores it, sliding into the seat across from him. 

Once they're properly settled in, Dinah relaxes, perching her chin on the palm of her hand, shooting him a cheery smile. To an outsider, she looks bright and free-spirited, ready to have a fun night. However, after knowing her long enough, Neil doesn’t fail to notice the strain in her expression and how a muscle in her jaw begins to bulge a bit. She’s clearly trying to hold herself back for his sake and he can’t help the exasperated grin that follows.

“You look suspicious when you smile like that,” Neil says blandly, picking up his menu. His nose briefly scrunches at the way the plastic cover peels off the sticky table cover.

“How dare you, my smiles are lovely.” She snips, opting to turn the pages from where the menu sits on the table. “Besides, I’m not here to actually do something stupid like have you get drunk to forget about a pig. It’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”

“The mother hen is still a mother hen even when angry.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“As much as I want to meet drunk Neil, I need that to happen when you have your own place. I don’t want to help take care of a monster hangover a second time.” She glances up and sticks her tongue out at him which he returns by blowing a raspberry, like two squabbling children. “But a drink or two won’t hurt. I’ll monitor you so you don’t go crazy.”

“I appreciate that. I would also like to not spend a whole day throwing up.” He snickers while Dinah’s face scrunches in disgust.

“Please, we’re here to eat. Don’t make me think about vomit.” Before they can fall into their routine of casual banter, a server comes up to their table.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks politely, flipping open a little notepad. Dinah gestures for him to go first as she lingers on the menu. He settles for a draft beer, knowing he doesn’t like it enough to mindlessly guzzle it down.

“I just can’t decide between these two,” Dinah mumbles to herself.

“Which ones?” The server inquires, leaning over slightly but not enough to encroach on anyone’s space. Dinah’s quick to oblige, scooting the menu over and pointing at the two cocktails she’s stuck between.

“Which one do you recommend? This isn’t my usual drinking spot so I’m not sure what’s good or not.”

“Ah. Those are both some of our best, but personally, I think the sunset sparkler would be a good call.” She taps at one of the options with the tip of her pen and Dinah tilts her head to read it. “We have a special deal going on right now. It’s actually our anniversary so a few drinks on the menu get discounts.”

“I was wondering why it was so busy in here.” Niel chimes in, sparing a quick look around the room at the large number of people mingling by the bar and seated at other tables.

“Yes ma’am. It’s our ‘Bottomless Night’. So a few options, like this one, allow for a one night discount with unlimited refills.”

Every word that counts as a synonym for ‘cheap’ or ‘free’ puts a twinkle in Dinah’s eyes. A wide grin spreads across her face as she nods and Neil suddenly gets an ominous feeling. Secretly he hopes this isn’t all just some ploy to get revenge on him for his last hangover. Though, knowing how she feels about getting sick, he isn’t too incredibly worried. Still suspicious though, one never knows for sure.

“That sounds like a plan. I’ll take the sunset sparkler then.” They add two orders of chicken wings, which the server jots down before taking their menus and leaving.

When she’s out of earshot, Dinah turns her attention back to him. The pleased smile has become more strained and Neil lets out a long suffering sigh.

“Alright, say it.”

“Say what.”

“Whatever you need to to get it out of your system.”

The sound she lets out is a combination of a growl and a groan. In the blink of an eye her forced expression sours into a simmering glare. She picks up the silverware still folded inside its napkin and digs one end into the tabletop.

“Three years. Three years!” She hisses, one step away from having steam billowing out of her ears.

“There it is.” Neil shakes his head to which she jabs the wrapped utensils at him.

“And why am I more mad about this than you are? I mean you’re out here working your butt off, stressed enough as it is, and this?!” A few people around them turn their heads at the sound of her voice. She eyes them bitterly before forcing herself to settle down. “I’m sorry. I just… how could he do that? And to you of all people?”

“At this point, I don’t think it’s even worth knowing the answer. I’m just glad I’ve had enough time to come to terms with it, yeah it still sucks but it’s not as raw and painful anymore.” He admits, fiddling with a salt packet to keep his shaking hands busy and attention away from the soft gaze being directed at him.

“You should have told me.” She pouts, putting down the utensils and dropping her chin back into her hand. “You didn’t have to go through all that alone… I wish you didn’t.”

“I was just…” He hesitates, squeezing the packet so hard he can feel the individual grains inside.

“Scared?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence between them. Neil jumps when a hand appears in his field of vision, patting him lightly on the arm before disappearing again.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. And I appreciate you letting me help, even if it’s late. No more doing things alone if you don’t have to.” When he looks up at her the smile she gives him is genuine. “Thinking back on it, it’s probably a good thing you didn’t tell me. Otherwise, I’d be in prison right about now.”

Neil snorts out a laugh, accidentally ramming his knee against the underside of the table. The force of it rattles everything on its surface and sends Dinah into a laughing fit of her own. It takes a minute for the two of them to calm down. But, once they do, the tension hanging around them since this whole thing started has nearly vanished entirely. In the newly relaxed atmosphere, they ease back into a comforting conversation about their classes and the looming dread of their upcoming exams.

Around the time Neil gets to the point of complaining about his work shifts at the gas station, the server returns with their drinks. The chicken wings come out only ten or so minutes later and they let themselves get lost in the good mood.

Dinah takes a quick sip of her red, fizzling cocktail before pushing it towards Neil.

“Try it, it’s actually pretty good.” She gives the glass another little nudge, then focuses her attention on the crisp, fried wings in front of her. “There’s no strawberry in it or anything. I actually think there’s some pineapple in there.”

He purses his lips and considers for a moment, quick to cave in and lift up the glass to take a sip. It’s refreshingly cold, but not so much where it would hurt his teeth. Pomegranate is the first thing he tastes, along with traces of some other, softer fruit and the pineapple Dinah mentioned. It’s sweet and fresh on his tongue before it’s chased away by the afterburn of what might be rum. No doubt it’s better than the lukewarm beer he'd been nursing, which leaves the inside of his mouth feeling tacky and sticky.

Staring at the bubbling red drink, an old memory flashes through his mind. He looks up at Dinah who’s trying to catch a chunk of chicken about to fall off the bone with her teeth before it can land on the table. Her words from only a few minutes ago echo back at him. He doesn’t have to bear things alone anymore. He sets the glass down firmly on the table.

“Y’know, I think Kash’s omega likes strawberries or something, because last time we were on a date he ordered me a strawberry soda.” The wicked grin tugging at his lips is all teeth. Dinah freezes, mouth hanging open, and the chicken she was wrestling with barely makes it back into its basket when she finally reacts.

“He did what-?!”

Neil is off like a shot. He starts from the beginning, stumbling upon the pair in the alleyway,  and plows on from there. He’s in the middle of explaining how their last date went down when the server stops by to check on them. Dinah lets him keep her drink, which he gets a refill of, getting another one for herself.

Every encounter he describes is met with a plethora of colorful insults and spits of rage, yet he can’t seem to stop. He’s on his third cocktail when he gets into his theories and speculations. The profile picture and glimpses of texts he managed to catch, a few canceled meetups, even things he vaguely recalls feeling bothered or curious about, now viewing it all with a new meaning.

Dinah latches on with equal fervor and tosses some of her own theories and accusations into the mix. He even earns some new information about what she noticed while he was away in Nevada. Almost everything matches up and confirms what he already proved without needing Kash to admit it with his own words.

They empty their basket of chicken wings which the server comes by to collect, giving them a volume warning before moving on. The tang of pomegranate and burn of rum at the back of his throat adds a layer of warm fuzz to his brain and sets his head spinning in so many circles, that he brushes over the sense of déjà vu and takes another sip.

The Bar & Grill is basically at full capacity with patrons gathering at the bar, chattering and drinking merrily. Dinah’s voice is a murmur under the sheer number of voices mixing and blending together to create a nice hum that settles in his ears. The buzzing atmosphere sinks into his skin, easing the tangled-up knot of his heart. He can’t hear his own thoughts over everything else, like a warm blanket draped over his mind and muffling the outside world.

A rough cackle escapes him at some vaguely worded threat Dinah makes, then he takes another sip.