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One glass poured for himself, and a second poured for Ripley before Finn fished out his pack of cigarettes and made his way with all three back to where the other man was seated, leaning down just enough (and likely blocking Ripley's view of the t.v. screen for just a moment) to set the glass down in front of him, before taking his seat again.

It seemed that Ripley hadn't quite finished him off yet, though at this point it would pretty much take the smallest of taps to end it. Still, after a quick sip of his drink, he reached for the control and tapped in a few buttons in quick succession, sending his character back on the attack with two kicks and a slash with her weapon.

And then he paused, casting the man beside him a quick glance. Point? "Well there is a story to go along with each of the characters. If you play it in arcade mode and complete it you get to see the end of the story for the character that you completed it with." That was what Ripley meant, right?

Yes, that must have been it.

Or maybe he meant that playing video games was pointless. That was also a possibility.

Finn would just live in denial for a moment longer that that particular question was even being asked right now.

HP: 1 I think
Damage: 9

His blind side was to Ripley when he sat the glass down, so he had no idea he was being looked at. Watched.

....Admired?

Not until he turned his head towards him at least, just enough to catch his eye, an amused smirk quickly pulling at his lips combined with a strong urge to wrap his hand around the back of the other man's head to pull him in for a kiss, one that would have likely led to lap straddling and shirt removal (along with other clothes given a few more moments) in no time flat.

But he refrained. All in the name of video games.

Once he was situated back into position, it wasn't long before Ripley finished the match, and that was okay. Finn set down the controller and let the replay of the finishing move play out on the screen, leaving it as a small menu of options popped up, so that he could take a drink from his glass of whiskey and reach over to rummage around in the bag of goodies that Ripley had brought with him, pulling out a box of smarties.

"I haven't had these in ages." He set his drink down, fiddling with the top of the box to tear it open, before shaking out a few of the multicolored coated chocolates into his hand and promptly shoving them into his mouth.

He chewed and swallowed, taking another sip of whiskey to wash it down before answering.

"This is versus mode. It's the only mode you can really play with another person...sort of. It's just for fun and...." Bragging rights? Hrm, well......

"I guess we could make it more interesting?" Finn smirked, his gaze narrowing in that way that likely meant that he was up to no good. "Say, the loser of each round doing a shot of tequila." Because it was always a great idea to mix booze. "And removing an article of clothing."

If anything, it sort of ensured that Finn didn't spend the entire night making Ripley play games.

Well....games in bed being the exception to the rule.

Wait, smarties were Canadian? Chalk that up as something Finn didn't actually know, having assumed that the candy coated chocolate was an international craze. He didn't comment on it, however, just treated himself to another mouthful of delicious sugar before moving on to the business at hand.

The point of the look he'd been giving to Ripley was more to make him squirm than anything else. He was sure by now it had become quite obvious to all of his friends that he quite liked to make bets (especially ones where he was pretty sure he would win). He knew that what he had to suggest wasn't nearly anything worth mulling over, considering they were more than likely going to end up shedding clothes anyways, though the add on of a shot of tequila was a bit of a nasty bonus, one that Finn himself wasn't a fan of but....so far he'd never actually seen Ripley more than just tipsy, and there was promise of amusement if it did happen tonight.

So he put in his suggestion, and waited for the inevitable agreement. There was no reason to say no, really, but as Finn was feeling generous, he put in another little bonus for Ripley alone.

"And how about in the event that you win, meaning I either forfeit or am the first one completely unclothed, you can tell me what to do for the rest of the night, ending at...say, 6:00 am." He didn't like not being in control, but it seemed like there was really no risk, as Finn was pretty damn positive he could beat him.

Ripley's question was met with an amused smirk. "Sure. In fact." He turned towards Ripley, while moving up onto his knees. "You can even choose what comes off first....if you take it off yourself." His smirk grew.

"With your teeth."

He was, quite possibly, joking.

Maybe.

Finn graced Ripley with the same smug grin/smirk that he gave to everyone just about always when he accepted the bet, an expression that only grew wider when the other man sighed, but moved to his knees to face him regardless. Did that mean what Finn thought it would mean?

Perhaps, or maybe Ripley was just trying to distract him away from even wanting to play a game, a strategy that was already beginning to work from the single kiss alone that turned into more trailing down along his neck, a motion that goosebumps to Finn's arms and down his back. For a moment, he closed his eye, enjoying the feel of it, of the hands that rubbed up against his sides only to stop on his chest. For a moment, he forgot that he had invited Ripley over for something other than sex, and hands began to lift, as if to place on either side of the other man's waist, when instead they stopped, his eye snapping back open at the sound of a zipper combined with the downward tug of his hood against his neck.

Before he knew it, he was hoody-less, and being grinned at in some strangely adorable way (not that he thought it was very adorable, no, that was the look of a dangerously mischievous and sneaky little man).

Finn could only blink in an attempt to clear his head from a sudden daze that had nothing to do with the two sips of whiskey he'd had, before he lifted up a hand to rake through his hair, a smile gracing his lips as he let out a chuckle.

"Not today, Crowell." He lifted his control and tapped the "play again" option screen, which quickly shifted back to where they had started.


HP: 25

Finn was grinning, a rare show of cheerfulness that didn't quite meet his gaze, which was now held locked on the screen. Holding the controller with one hand, he reached for his whiskey with the other, taking a quick swig before setting it back down.

Already, Ripley was getting in some quick shots, but Finn responded with an impressive combo.

HP: 21
Damage: 12

Finn would have choked if he hadn't already swallowed his whiskey. What had at first looked like it would be an easy little win was now becoming quite worrisome as Ripley went on the offensive, jamming buttons quicker then Finn had time to break, and even a block thrown here and there didn't seem to be enough to keep his health bar from suddenly dwindling.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

Somewhere in the midst of all that carnage, he managed to get a hit or two in edgewise.

HP: 7
Damage: 7

It was as he feared. Ripley was a master button masher, and despite all of his attempts to break through the sudden flurry of attacks, it was too little too late. He couldn't even get close enough to land one single, measly little hit! When 'KO' flashed on the screen for a moment, Finn stared, dismay and disbelief. His had this happened.

He carefully set down his controller. He wasn't going to get mad. Fair was fair, after all. Pushing himself up to his feet, he moved over to his dresser, pulling open one of the drawers to come out with a full bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, which set on the dresser that was quickly becoming a bar top.

"Any requests?" He finally said, a small smile on his lips as he poured himself the shot, his stomach lurching slightly just at the smell of it.

He really wasn't a fan of tequila. He only had the bottle in case an occasion arose where he could offer it as a gift. Now, repurposed, the tequila was lifted to his lips and downed.

It burned, and not in a good way like whiskey did. It tasted awful, as well, and he knew that the effects of drinking it would be delayed, but would hit him like a brick wall eventually (unless that ended up being his only shot, in which case he might be safe).

Turning around, fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, and he slowly pulled it off over his head, while stretching and flexing muscles, making a small show of it. Once off, he bunched the fabric up in his hand, and tossed it towards Ripley's now growing pile of Finn's clothing.

He got himself a cigarette, mostly to chase away the taste of tequila in his mouth, before going back to his seat. Picking up the controller, he began their game anew.

HP: 25
Damage: 8