Fortunately, the Hell Bar isn’t as outrageous as its gaudy, trashy sign suggests—it’s just an ordinary bar, with booths and private rooms.

Anyway, with everything at a 90% discount, Brian Sullivan went wild ordering from the drink menu, filling the table between the two of them.

Eric Bennett sat across from Brian Sullivan with his arms folded, dressed in a suit and tie, looking like he was about to head to court for a negotiation at any moment. Brian Sullivan suddenly stood up and slid over to sit next to Eric Bennett. “Let’s drink together, don’t be shy.”

Eric Bennett turned his head to avoid him, not sparing even a glance at the colorful drinks on the table.

Suddenly, a man in a floral shirt walked over, propped one hand on the back of the sofa, and raised his glass to them. “Hey handsome, want to have a drink together?”

Brian Sullivan replied bluntly, “No, I don’t.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the man’s gaze went straight past Brian Sullivan to Eric Bennett. “Handsome, you’re the most my type in this bar tonight.” His eyes brazenly and presumptuously swept over Eric Bennett, finally stopping at his tightly buttoned collar. “Buttoned up so high—aren’t you hot?”

Brian Sullivan leaned forward to block his view. “None of your business.”

The man raised an eyebrow at that. Seeing Eric Bennett didn’t respond, he looked even more provocative toward Brian Sullivan. After a moment, he turned back to Eric Bennett: “Honey, how about coming over to my table?”

“Who the hell is your honey?” Brian Sullivan shuddered at the words. “We’re both straight as can be, so please have some self-respect.”

“And who are you to him?” The man, interrupted for the third time, finally lost his temper, his previously forced, syrupy tone turning normal. “He hasn’t even said a word, but you keep butting in. If you’re not his boyfriend, then get lost.”

Brian Sullivan crossed his legs. “I’m his love rival and competitor, here to settle a score with him. Got a problem?”

The man looked at Eric Bennett in disbelief. Eric Bennett nodded. “He’s right.”

“……” The man finally sensed the tense atmosphere. He was silent for a moment, then raised his hand and quickly made his exit. “Sorry to bother you, carry on.”

Watching him head off with his drink to his next target, Brian Sullivan shot a smug glance at Eric Bennett. “I’m just too kind-hearted—repaying evil with good by blocking that guy for you. I definitely deserve a spot in the Top Ten Most Touching People at the Affiliated Hospital this year.”

Eric Bennett promptly picked up a drink and splashed it in his face.

“Can’t handle it, can you, Eric Bennett?” Brian Sullivan wiped his face, then suddenly grabbed Eric Bennett by the shoulders and pulled him close.

Eric Bennett wrinkled his nose, staring at the man who’d suddenly leaned in, the smell of alcohol hitting him full force. He instinctively turned his head away.

Brian Sullivan seemed to notice something. “You can’t hold your liquor?” He let go of Eric Bennett with a cocky grin. “You’re weak, Eric Bennett.”

Eric Bennett shot him a cool glance, then picked up the nearest glass, tipped his head back, and downed it in one go, leaving only an empty glass behind.

The man’s eyes stayed fixed on Brian Sullivan the whole time. Even through his glasses, you could feel the sharpness and disdain in his gaze.

“Fine, not convinced, huh?”

Brian Sullivan looked at him for a moment, then likewise picked up a drink and downed it, clinking his glass challengingly in front of Eric Bennett.

Eric Bennett didn’t even look at his hand, just grabbed another drink and knocked it back in three gulps right in front of Brian Sullivan.

The brief truce brought on by their simultaneous heartbreak shattered instantly, and their competitive instincts flared. They drank one glass after another, each faster than the last, until finally—

“Bang!”

Only one untouched drink remained on the table. The former arch-enemies glared at each other, eyes bloodshot, each gripping the other’s hand, neither willing to let the other take the last glass.

It wasn’t until their heads were practically pressed together, lips almost touching as they finished that last drink together, that Eric Bennett suddenly realized what he’d just done.

Shit.

This damned competitive streak.

His mind felt like mush, his face burning hot. He loosened his tie and shook his groggy head, sleepiness crashing over him like a tidal wave. He watched as Brian Sullivan’s head turned into two, then three… then back to one.

Then everything went black, and he passed out.

When he woke up again, he was inexplicably lying on a big hotel bed.

--------------------

Author’s note:

Eric Bennett’s eternal weakness—Brian Sullivan’s goading.

Chapter 3: Chaos

====================

Eric Bennett’s chest was pressed against something furry. Annoyed, he shoved it away, only to hear a few grunts from Brian Sullivan.

“You look skinny, but carrying you… why are you so heavy?”

“Screw you… you’re the heavy one.” Eric Bennett yanked his head up. Thanks to the alcohol, both of them were slurring their words.

“You’re hopeless… Eric Bennett,” Brian Sullivan sprawled on the pillow, arm flung over the edge of the bed. “You only drank a little… and you’re already drunk. No wonder Zhong Lan… isn’t interested in you.”

Eric Bennett was dizzy. At those words, he slapped Brian Sullivan’s face, covering his mouth. “Your face… is so hot you could boil an egg. You think… you’re not drunk?”

“I’m not drunk…” The drunkard waved his hand. “I can drink a thousand shots and not fall.”