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He'd jolted at the 'sup', and then had been bewildered as he was dragged into the living room and handed a glass, all before he could form a coherent thought on the matter.

She....seemed happier, at least? And the scent wafting up from the shotglass quickly said why. "No, that's okay, I don't--" he began, even as his survival instincts gave him a swift kick in the pants.

You just watched this girl bend a car hood like the incredible ******** hulk. You are going to drink whatever she gives you, idiot.

Kendall found it hard to argue with that, and gingerly accepted the shotglass from her, hesitating before tossing it back.

....all right, that hadn't been so ba-- As if the drink had suddenly grown claws, his throat burned as the alcohol slid down it, making him cough reflexively.

The first shot had no sooner settled than another was being poured for him. How, in the name of all that was holy, was she drinking that s**t like it was water?

The answer came as a faint warmth began to bloom in him, starting at his chest and spreading outward, chasing away the chill he'd been standing in for the last couple of hours.

"Uhm. Yeah..." he agreed lamely to her proclamation, eying the second shot. He could almost hear his stomach asking him if he -honestly- was going to be sending that down as well. And, thinking over the evening he'd had, the answer was yes.

This one didn't make him choke, only wince, as he took it.

There was not enough vodka in the world for Kendall to have forgotten the rage she'd been in earlier and, even now as the shots continued to make their journey through his bloodstream and put a nice muffled fuzz on the world, he remained wary.

Crossing the room and plunking down beside her on the sofa, he paused a second as everything wobbled a bit. Oddly, he'd always thought getting drunk was a lot like taking aspirin. You took it and then sat there for twenty minutes or so waiting for it to work.

"Sorry I made you come out there earlier..." he offered, at least still able to speak clearly.

He accepted the bottle even as he listened to what she was saying. It was funny how, by the minute, things were seeming less awkward. It didn't feel natural or anything, but he believed her when she said she wasn't mad at him anymore. Especially given the explanation.

"Oh man..." he said when she'd finished, chuckling. "And then the car on top of it. I'd've been pissed too." he watched the diminished contents of the bottle slosh before lifting it to his own lips to take a drink. "What'd he do? Crash the club you were at?"

The shrill impression made him laugh, even if he had no idea who the guy was. "Nani..." he repeated thoughtfully after it had subsided, contemplating another drink, but offering the bottle to her instead. "A friend of mine--well, more like a brother, really, is going out with a Nani. Small world isn't i--"

He stopped as his hearing was assaulted by what sounded like a centipede in cotton army boots dancing across either eardrum as she fumbled with his ears and then folded them inside out.

When she was done, he simply stared for a minute, as if his brain had put on the brakes and was now carefully reversing to figure out what had just happened.

Slowly, very slowly, they began to belly inward and.... pop! pop! bounced back into their proper positions, making him flinch a bit.

Which was fortunate for him, because if she planned to keep doing that, he suddenly felt like he needed another drink. His body no longer protested the vodka as he took another swallow of it. Had he been more familiar with his limits, he would have known that he'd already had too much too quickly as it was.

"Those're my ears. Not toys." he told her as they sprang up once more atop his head.

"Whuh---AUGH!" he cried, flinching away as his ear was suddenly invaded by warm and wet. "Quiddit!" he protested, leaning backward against the arm of the sofa and away from her as he wiped at his ear like a little boy who's just had his face cleaned with a napkin his mother had wet on her tongue.

He glared at her from across the couch, but even in doing so, snerked, and then began to laugh, the hand holding the vodka bottle setting it clumsily on the coffee table. "God, you and my sister, I swear..."

Kendall scooted off the arm of the couch, slouching against it even she invaded his personal space. Her question, though it ordinarily would have had him hemming, hawing, and frustrated if a girl had put to him while sober, made him roll his eyes back in thought.

"I dunno." he said at last, absently scratching at his chest. "I never really got that far, I guess." His mind, on its own, wandered to the fact that there were guys out there much worse-looking at him, with much worse attitudes than he had, who had all SORTS of lofty standards, and still could have their pick of girls.

"I guess just....a girl I can be myself with, yanno?" he muttered at last. "Couple of the guys I game with, they have girlfriends who make their lives a hell. I mean..." he put up a hand, making a slight dismissive gesture. "...not like the hell couples usually give each other, I mean REAL hell. Always yelling at'em, and trying to make them be someone they don't wanna be, and they started playing WoW just to get away from it." His tail swished lightly against the side of the couch as he looked up at the ceiling in thought. "And I ask'em why they stay if it sucks so bad, and they say 'cuz its better than being alone'. And I'm scared sometimes I'm gonna end up in the same situation."

He stated it all in a hazy and matter-of-fact sort of way that prevented it from sounding like whining or angsting. One ear flicked and he lifted his head a bit to peer across the couch at where she was sprawled. "How 'bout you?"