Round and Round [Shouhei/Cecil]

“No way, we’re in the same year too, what a coincidence,” Shouhei gleefully nodded while thumbing through the delectable list of tapas on the menu; this combined with the smells of the restaurant caused his mouth to water.  It seemed that Cecil might have been a bit preoccupied due to his answer, so Shouhei figured he should prod a little more.

“But is the club no fun without the leader?  What’s stopping you from joining, if I might ask?”

"No kidding..." It was one thing after another.
Cecil's expression twisted as he mulled over what Shouhei had asked him. "...I don't know." He shrugs. "At the time? Probably crazy levels of anxiety. Now...guess I found other things that occupy my time now." He thinks again, and shudders. "I, uhh, don't think I'm going checking again for clubs anyway. After the last time, I am nooot taking that risk."

“...The anxiety thing’s pretty relatable.  Normally I don’t give a crap about what others think of me, but sometimes… I just don’t wanna go to music club,” Shouhei said, a tone of regret in his voice.  However he didn’t like to linger on that bad note and instead wanted Cecil to reveal more about himself.

“So what happened to you last time?  Was it that bad?”

Cecil freezes.
"...you...probably heard rumours, honestly. Someone got suspended." His expression is one of someone remembering a nightmare deeply buried so he didn't have to - that one time your trunks got lost in the pool, the time you bore witness to a bloody crash that caused casualty and calamity...the time you became the subject of numerous tales involving flipping off the principal as you chugged bleach in front of him or selling poisoned moonshine around the school campus after suffering insanity and what likely constituted sexual harassment.
"...never, never, never go anywhere near the literature clubrom. Never."

There was a long pause between the two of them.  In realization, slowly, but surely, did Shouhei’s once placid face begin to crack.  The corners of his mouth began to tug, until he erupted in full blown laughter.

“N… No way!  You’re the ‘piss jug’ guy!?  And I thought I had shitty rumors floatin' around me!”

Cecil folded in on himself in that moment, knowing he had said too much. "Not another rumoooour..." He looked up with a desperate, pleading expression. "I just walked into the guy making what I found out was fucking moonshine in a what he gleefully revealed was a stripper outfit." There was a haunted look in his green eyes as the events of the day played out again in his mind. "I, I...I apparently nearly killed myself with alcohol toxicity trying to knock myself unconscious to put an end to the situation. Instead I spend my time cleaning the halls after a checkup from the school medical staff."

"Never, never again..."

The look on Cecil’s face, let alone reaction, had spoke more than enough.  Even his words seemed to be rehearsed, as if he told his side of the tale a milion times.  Shouhei immediately felt sorry about laughing at the poor guy and wholeheartedly empathized and sympathized with him.  

“Ah… my fault for laughing.  It was just such a… ridiculous story, you know?  But it ain’t so funny when you’re the victim and the one with the rumors following him, so… my bad.  Lemme buy you another tapa to make up for it.”

Dejectedly, he makes a small nod. "...that...that sounds good. I'm starving and it'd be nice to forget this as soon as possible."

As if totally on cue their server arrived, a young man with slightly tanned skin and dark hair.  He wore a simple dress shirt and black slacks.  The accent in his voice indicated his own latin background as he politely asked, “Are you two ready to order?”

“I’ll have… chorizo a la sidra, empanadillas, la bomba, papas arrugadas, solomillo al whisky, and…” Shouhei pulled out his wallet to produce a convincingly authentic identification card that his host club coworkers had made for him, “The house cerveza, por favor.”

Cecil jumped a little at the appearance of the server, but didn't let out the familiar cry that started his encounter. He watched silently as Shouhei made his order, silently noting the way he retrieved an ID that probably didn't match his age...presumably to order alcohol, if he had to present it.
He didn't comment. Even if he wasn't one of the older students from the school that had their original education disrupted due to the Divide, this was...pretty harmless, honestly.
Still made a note to check, though. At least this wasn't a 'stolen whiskey' scenario.

The blond was rapidly double-checking the menu when attention finally turned to him. "I think...some calamares, a few patatas bravas, an order of tortilla de pattas, pincho moruno, and...albóndigas."

Seeing how Cecil flinched at the server’s arrival, Shouhei mentally noted that it wasn’t a big surprise in how he winded up being known as the “piss jugs” guy.  That made him feel even worse for laughing as he said to their server, “Put it all on one bill please.”

The server nodded and handed Shouhei back his fake ID, stating the time it’d take while pouring them glasses of water.

“...Anyway, did you figure out what you’re gonna owe me for next time?” A broad smile came from Shouhei’s visage.

Cecil's eyes widen as he awkwardly grimaces. He'd...completely forgotten about that after having to relive the moonshine incident. "Oh, uh, I....no, sorry." He glances away. "I'll - I'll figure it out. Eventually. Yeah."

“You better,” Shouhei jokingly made a slitting motion across his neck with a soft chuckle, “Or I’m coming for you.  Actually, gimme your number and text me sometime.”

Cecil chuckles awkwardly, but puts on a smile of his own. He didn't seem to be taken aback, just still a little out of it. "Alright. Saves me running around trying to find you, hey?"