it's a BLACKED out blur but I'm pretty sure it ruled

It was soon after he ordered that Jean noticed a handsome, pink haired man walking up to his booth and taking a seat across from him. It was a good thing that he didn't have to wait too long for Quentin. He was getting hungry and hadn't had dinner yet. The bar offered little to eat except some light finger foods but it was better than nothing. He would find something else to eat later if he was that hungry.

"Hello." Jean echoed Quentin's greeting and smiled back at him. If Quentin were observant, he might have noticed that this grin was larger and more natural and sincere than during their first meeting. Jean was happy (and uninhibited) and he had good reason to be. "The meeting was fantastic, actually. The advertising agent you suggested really was great. When I mentioned your name he seemed immediately eager to help. It's going to cost me, obviously, but I think that this deal is going to be really good for business. I really do appreciate your help in introducing him to me."

"My alcohol tolerance?" Jean gave Quentin a skeptical look. My alcohol tolerance is fairly high. "I'll admit that the drink I had this afternoon was the first one in a while but I'm no where near drunk if that's what you mean. If anything, I'm had just enough to put me in a good mood. Besides," Jean smirked. "Taiwan has a minimum drinking age of eighteen and most families allow their kids to drink even before that. I probably handle my alcohol better than you." Somewhere in the back of Jean's brain, he wondered exactly what was in that drink he had earlier and why he was talking to Quentin like he would one of his high school friends. At that point though, he really didn't care and only continued to challenge the other man, waiting to see how he would reply to his goading.

"Indeed we did. If he's as good as you claim he is, I'm sure I'll have no shortage of customers. And if and when that happens, I'll create a new dessert just for you." That wasn't a lie. Jean was normally too proud to create a special creation for anyone and if he did, he expected something in return. This time, he was getting something in return (business), he actually liked the person he was basing the dessert off of (surprise, surprise), and he hadn't come up with anything new in a while (he sure as hell had better not have stagnated so early in his career). "What kind of desserts do you like? It wouldn't be right to create a dessert for you only for you not to like it."

Jean's grin only continued to grow as Quentin responded to his challenge. "What do you think?" he replied as he picked up his own glass. He had no idea what this was or what the hell was in it but it had better be good. It never even crossed his mind that this was not a good idea and that logically two people drinking two different drinks might affect their alcohol level differently but who cared? He certainly didn't. "Haven't you ever heard of '故兵貴勝，不貴久'? You talk to much. 乾杯 (Cheers)."

His drink was fruity and tasted faintly of lychees. But it wasn't that strong. He was pretty sure he tasted sake too and sake has a lower proof than other drinks. He was sure that he would be fine for at least a few more drinks. He drank enough to know his limit. As long as Quentin gave up before him, his victory was assured.

"So, how's your drink? I'll admit, I've never had a Singapore sling before. In Taiwan it was usually always beer. And my teacher was always partial to wine, so there was that. I rarely ever have mixed drinks."

"It is one of the highest honors and you should feel very proud of yourself for being one of the few to receive such such a privilege." Jean swirled his pink colored drink around in it's glass. There was less than half of the glass left and he was beginning to admit that perhaps he had had a bit much to drink. He wasn't completely drunk yet but had he had too much, probably. "The only other people I've actually made desserts for of my own accord are probably my teacher and my sisters... I think?" Jean frowned. Had he really not created desserts for more people than that? What a disappointment. Perhaps he should start. (He would change his mind later when he was sober and remembered that he disliked the general population.)

"Melon bread?" Jean echoed Quentin's request as he turned to look at the pink haired man with a very confused and bemused look. "I was expecting something more difficult. Like I don't know, a baked Alaska or Baumkuchen."
Hell, I feel like I could bake you a wedding cake right now if you really wanted it and those things are an absolute pain. Or so he thought. At least he hoped that's what he thought. He didn't say that out loud, right? Yeah, he definitely had too much to drink. Winning be damned, he could get Quentin back next time. The memory of the last time he got so badly drunk was not a pretty one. Not only did he have a tattoo to show for it, according to his classmates, he got really friendly and touchy feely with all of them. He would never live down the memory of that night. Yeah, the next one would definitely have to be his last unless he wanted to get completely smashed.

Jean downed the rest of his drink and contemplated how he could adjust the melon bread to stand out from regular melon bread. Nothing was coming to mind at the moment. He could obviously improve on the original using his own preferred techniques but he doubted other than that he wondered if there was anything he could add to it to make it special. In the midst of his thinking he only barely heard Quentin's offer to buy him his first Singapore Sling and he completely missed the words being discretely whispered between the the bartender and the person he was supposed to be drinking under the table.

Despite having missed that complete event, the one thing that did not fly past his brain was the mention of sushi. "They serve food here? I've never been here before so I thought that it was just a bar. I must admit that I am starving."

Maybe it was just him, but Jean could have sworn that Quentin appeared to be happier than usual. No, maybe it was just him. The world around him was rose colored and everything seemed nicer and more beautiful than ever. Even their Singapore Slings that had just arrived was such a pretty color. The brilliant red appealed to him and reminded him of his childhood and the red packets his grandparents would give him every Chinese New Year. Wait, what?

Jean shook his head. Okay, he was definitely drunk. He did not think of his childhood fondly without reason; one of those reasons usually meant that he was getting so drunk he couldn't think straight. He looked at Quentin who looked none worse for the wear. Was he seriously going to get beaten by someone younger and with pink hair? (Jean found no other reason why Quentin wasn't allowed to beat him so you whatever works at this point.) This was seriously going to hurt his pride. But he had to stop. His self control demanded it.

But the Singapore Slings had already arrived and if he didn't drink it, Jean was sure that it would just get tossed out. Alcohol wasn't on the same level as food but it was still going to be a waste. He decided to drink it - or to try to drink it, at the very least. He could let Quentin know to stop after this. Jean took a sip of the liquid and, admittedly, he felt fine. It tasted different than he was used to but since he never actually had one of these before, he just assumed that the the alcohol probably tasted so strong because of it called for less juice. He took another sip of it to be sure and savored the taste of gin on his taste buds. It should perhaps be prudent to note now that with this alcohol and the lack of food in his system, Jean has reached the point of no return. His inhibition and reasoning has been discarded for the night and anything goes.

"Melon bread that tasted of melons? Ah, I know what you're talking about. Did you know that originally, melon bread was named melon bread only because of the shape and texture. The melon flavoring wasn't added until recently as a variation. And it's actually -oh sushi's here. Yes, please. I'll be sure to try the sashimi. Wait, sake? I think there was something about sake that I wanted to tell you about. What was it?" Jean never did know what kind of drunk he was since the hangovers usually prevented him from trying to remember; then again, he didn't really want to remember. What he did know was that he became worse than a two year old and that was how he was beginning to act. He was rambling and looking at everything around him.

Suddenly, something caught his attention and prompted him to lean onto Quentin. "You smell really nice. Are you wearing cologne?"

Jean was drunk at the moment. There was no other way around it. It was bad enough that he had had the equivalent of five drinks in the past hour and a half. That alone is enough to get almost anyone drunk. It had also been hours since the last time Jean had eaten. To put it in perspective, it was a wonder that Jean hadn't completely blacked out from drinking yet. Sadly, the baker was currently just on the border between "completely gone" and "loopy but still alive". This meant that not only would he have a horrible hangover the next morning, he would remember almost everything whether he wanted to or not.

"What pressure?" Jean finished his glass of Singapore Sling and moved onto poking at the sushi with his chopsticks. "You wound me with your contempt," he continued in a joking manner. "Who do you think I am? The bread I make will probably be better than whatever brand of melon bread you tasted. If you taste my bread, you won't be able to eat anyone else's." Confident words and pretty promises from a drunk should never be trusted; only used against them in times of trolling. Jean was screwed.

Jean looked at the food on the table and frowned a bit. He wan't sure if he was hungry. The color of the sushi certainly was pretty, though. The salmon reminded him of Quentin's hair. Speaking of Quentin... Jean nuzzled the other man's hair again. "You're definitely wearing something. You smell really nice." Quentin mentioned the food again and Jean momentarily stopped molesting him long enough to take a second look at the sushi. "I'm not hungry though," he complained. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Quentin's waist and buried his face into Quentin's shirt. "I'd rather do something fun. We should go to a night market. Are there night markets in LA?"

Jean was not happy when his attempts at getting attention from Quentin were ignored. He pouted in an effort to show his displeasure but conceded nonetheless. He unwound his arms from Quentin's waist and reached over for his abandoned chopsticks. He used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of sushi from his plate and managed to get it into his mouth through sheer muscle memory and experience. (It was a good thing they weren't using forks otherwise there would probably be food everywhere.) "You promise that you'll answer my questions if I eat?"

A sober Jean would have admitted that, yes, the sushi that Quentin suggested was delicious. However, Jean was nowhere near sober right now and instead stubbornly maintained his stance that, "the sushi was okay," and that "he wasn't that hungry." He continued eating anyway despite what he claimed. He really was hungry after having gone half a day without food. It was a good thing that Quentin had been sober enough to get them food. Otherwise, Jean would have woken up hungover and starving which would only serve to put him in a horrible mood.

"What are we going to do after we're done with food?"

In response to Quentin's admittance, Jean said nothing. In all honesty, what he said completely flew over his head. He found little meaning in Quentin's words and instead found himself much more preoccupied with finishing the last few pieces of sushi on his plate. In his inebriated state, there was no analyzing and there was no calculated words or actions. There was only what was the present and what was in front of him. Let this be a lesson to Jean that if ever should drink so much, drink with only those you trust or those that you know will not screw you over in that one moment.

"I don't know," Jean replied. "That's why I asked you." Then, in what seemed like a moment of startling clarity, Jean turned to Quentin and smirked in return to the glimmer of mischief that reflected in the younger man's eyes. Jean was always, always up for stupid things despite how he acted when sober. As long as it did not hurt his income, he wasn't afraid of challenges. "It sounds like you have plenty of ideas. So tell me, where exactly would you like to go?"

And as quickly as it came, Jean devolved back into a two year old. He leaned on Quentin once again with a content smile now that he was full. "That was nice," he laughed. "This is to thank you for the sushi," he smiled before pulling Quentin in for a kiss.