Taking his cue from the ladle wielding cutie, Brad reached back into the cupboard just behind him as he swallowed his food noisily, and snagged a rather formidable looking glass from the cupboard. There were of course, smaller beverage containing options at his disposal, but he was a beast. And let's face it, he knew that a tiny portion of liquor wasn't going to be near enough to get him relaxed and comfortable, in order to deal with whatever may or may not go down during this particular rendezvous. As he maneuvered sideways to snag a random bottle of Firewhisky, he nearly spilled the amber liquid all over the counter when Dem made some odd comment about Frog goo.<strong>"What?!?"</strong>he asked almost incredulously, before taking a quick swig of the now brimming tumbler, and letting his eyes slide closed at the sensation. It was warm, but simply not temperature wise. It soothed and burned simultaneously as it trickled down the length of his throat, and a brief tingle began to overcome every inch of tissue it grazed. Quirking a brow at the glass, he smirked a bit and proceeded to down another hefty gulp. The sensation was quite distracting, though not nearly as much as Kris' hand on his thigh. Even just that light of a graze was enough to cause him to set down the glass shakily and attempt to control the rampant flow of hormones that both her and Dem's presence always seemed to unleash. He had no idea what it was about these two that had bewitched him so. Brad had spent his entire life being followed around the castle by squealing fan girlies and boyos, and not once did he ever take a second glance at the majority of them. Sure he'd snogged a fair share, but nothing really more in depth than that. So, why was it, after all of those years, that now he was cursed with two equally attractive options in the same room at the same time. Perhaps it would seem to an outsider that he was whining about what appeared to be a situation of great fortune, but all he could seem to think was that it was going to end in someone slapping him and taking their goodies away with them. And he was<em>not</em>about to let that happen, so he firmly and resolutely kept his big mouth shut. No way in hell was he going to be the one to break that earth shattering ice.<br/><br/>Thankfully, Kris' touch was brief and before long she gave him a reprieve from his overactive libido by assembling a rather large plate of food for herself. For the first time in his life though, Brad just wasn't hungry. Go figure. He spent 16 hours a day roughly, trying to hoard or steal anything and everything that would sate his endless hunger, and now he had a feast spread before him and nothing. He had some inkling that his lack of appetite was probably due to the nervous knot that was being wound endlessly in his abdomen. Writhing and tormenting him with every twisting pass. But,<em>not</em>eating would draw far too much attention to his current preoccupation, so he filled his plate with mountains of delicacies same as the others. But instead spent more time focusing on the soothing amber liquid getting infinitely lower by the minute as he almost chugged its contents away. From what few items he did sample though, he couldn't deny the girl had skills. He'd have to make it a priority to sample her cooking when he wasn't spending a great deal of his time trying not to let his eyes roam over the way Dem's lips kept suckling at every bit of food he put in his mouth. It didn't help much that their first meeting was over sticky mallow treats that did nothing<em>but</em>highlight that supple grin of his. And the fact that no matter how much he tried to forget, that he could still taste mallow remnants whenever he thought of his lips crushing against Dem's.<br/><br/>Tipping the last bit of the firewhisky into his mouth, he turned his gaze to Kris instead, daintily nibbling at her own food, before pouring himself another glass. Another weighty distraction in and of herself, the way those voluptuous curves called to him, he let his eyes linger longer than necessary.<em>That</em>he could do without the worry of getting caught. Though, he did attempt to keep it to a less than lewd level, as he wasn't exactly sure how fond Dem was of Brad's new fixation. A few more tenative sips, and the liquor had begun to work its magic. With the lack of proper nutrition to absorb its fiery tendrils, his system was taking it all in rather quickly, and he could definitely feel a pull on his sense of balance. Only a minor one, but enough to cause a very relaxed and cheeky smile to slip onto his facial expressions. He laughed lightly at the pancake comment and hopped off the counter, having to steady himself a little bit before making his way over to Kris and putting his hands on her hips, to nestle her against him.<strong>"Yes my darling Kris, I do believe pancakes are my new favorite raiding snack."</strong>As he spoke, he brought his lips to her ear almost making the last portion of his sentence a brief whisper, while kissing her lightly. Clearly liquor agreed with the Bradster, and he soon felt his previous worries and anxious thoughts flutter right out his slightly inebriated mind. Trouble was, with those inhibitions went his ability to guard his words, and that was not a factor he had considered when indulging in so much of the tantalizing and forbidden beverage. As he trailed his lips down to her neck, he pulled her even closer, relishing the deep warmth that radiated from her frame before adding a quiet,<strong>"Aside from S'mores of course"</strong>before letting his gaze travel from behind Kris' form to Dem's eyes. There was a definite glint of mischief in his own, as he continued to run his lips along her skin, while keeping a steady eye on Dem's expression. The score was quickly becoming liquor, one, Bradley, zero.