SUMMARY: You and Jensen are best friends, you accompany him to Nashville for the convention and drunken hijinks ensue!
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x (bestfriend!)reader
Word Count: 1810
Warnings: Some swearing
A/N: So i have been struggling with writing and what not, and the other day this idea hits me. I am basing it off the information that I saw about NashCon and it just grew to this fic. This would be my first attempt at writing a possible more than friends type fic based on the actual actor. I mean no disrespect to Danneel, we will just consider her happy with someone else for the purpose of this fic. Also a huge shout out to Daddy B aka @bigdaddymongoose, she is my rock and helps me out sooo much with writing!
“C’mon you two, let’s hit another bar!” Jared laughed, drunk off his ass already.
You giggled, watching your best friend trying to walk unaided. His bow legs making the staggering all the more comical. Finally, he made it to your side, he threw an arm around you, almost knocking the two of you to the ground.
“I think Jay here has had enough,” you snickered.
After the tour of the Jack Daniels Distillery and all the free shots, then the dart throwing game with Jason and the guys and more shots imbibed. Next, Creation Ent wanting to celebrate Jay’s birthday during the Saturday Night Special concert with you guessed it more alcohol involved. Let’s just say when Jay sang Tennessee Whiskey, he was almost three sheets to the wind then. If Jared got his way, this would be the third bar you all hit.
Jensen started shaking his head, “No, I-I think we need more bars,” he grinned. “Me likey, more acl-aco-alc-,” he furrowed his eyebrows like he was concentrating, “drinks.”
You laughed, “I think everybody is done for the night. You two have a panel in the morning, remember?” You smacked Jensen’s hand away from your face as he tried to “boop” your nose. “Stop that!”
Jared just gave you “Sam’s puppy eyes”, “Nope, Pada-gigantor, those will not work on me. I am impervious to “Mr. Awesome,” you jerked a thumb at Jensen, “you don’t stand a chance my tall friend.”
1. When you’re just the right amount of drunk, at a bar with your best friends, you’re young and having fun. The bass drops on the song in just the right way that your heart soars and you feel the tempo deep in your rib cage, touching your soul. You feel present and happy and full.
2. You’re sitting on the kitchen floor at 3 AM. The house is all silent, and you’ve just finished having a breakdown. The tears are still drying on your face. You’re in an existential crisis, and it feels like you’re cracking from the inside out. You feel empty and raw and your life is going nowhere. You don’t know who you really are, or what you’re doing here in this life you have. You’re so, so alone, and you feel so small and insignificant in the universe. Another tear falls down your cheek. You don’t try to wipe them away anymore.
And there’s literally no in between, to be honest.
Matt heard you, his heart skipped a beat. It was just like the first time. He
heard your Dr Martens hit the floor with each step, coming closer to where he
was seated. It was amazing how easily he filtered your sounds out of the noise
at Josie’s bar, with all the drunks and the sounds of liquid being poured into
glasses. And still, he could make out every single detail of you. Your slow
walk, the way you twirled your hair around your finger, the clinging of your
armbands against your wrists. And of course, the most obvious, that even Foggy
could hear: your hissing sound to men who tried to hit on you.
and counted the seconds. Four, three, two, one-
losers.” He heard you sit down on the bar stool next to him, and you gave him a
friendly nutch with your shoulder.
as always,” Foggy said. You winked at him before ordering a drink, and then
turned back to your boys.
it going at the famous attorney’s office?” You nipped at your tequila.
“Well, I don’t
know how’s it going at Landman and Zack, but-” Foggy teased and you let out a
laugh. It was Matt’s favourite sound in the whole world. It was innocent and
uncontrolled, unlike the rest of you.
okay, I guess. We’ve had a few clients, so I guess we’re doing alright.” Foggy
said. You raised your glass to him. “I’ll drink to that.” Foggy’s glass met
yours with a big clash, and you cursed. Matt grinned again and raised his
class. You softly clanged your glass against his. “To you, devils boy,” you murmured.
Your voice was soft, almost a whisper,
and Matt doubted that Foggy could’ve heard it. But Matt had heard it very clear
and he raised his eyebrows. Was the nickname you gave him just a coincidence? Or
did you know more? No, you couldn’t have. Matt had never told you about his night
time activities. Or at least, not that he could remember.
did tell you, one night. It was late, probably almost morning, when you two
stumbled from the bar to Matt’s apartment. Matt was drunk, really drunk, and
you felt the responsibility to accompany him to his house. Even if he wasn’t
that drunk, you probably would’ve. You cared for him more than he knew of.
It took Matt
four times to open the door to his apartment, and he started giggling. His arm
was swung over your shoulder and you struggled, because he was heavier than you
thought. You dragged him with you to the couch, where you dropped him. He fell
backwards, in the soft cushions, and he smiled. His black hair was messy and
sticked a little to his forehead. His tie was loosened up, and his shirt was
half open, and he looked incredibly handsome in the sunlight that came from his
windows. He looked a little like an angel, you thought. You looked at him
adoringly for a few seconds, something you normally didn’t dare to do. “You
know how amazing you are, right?” He said with a heavy tongue. “Like, to the
moon amazing. Probably to the moon and back.”
your eyes. “I don’t even know what that means, Murdock.” You opened the door to
his closet and started digging through the clothes, looking for sweatpants and
kept talking. “You know, you’re lucky your head isn’t the size of the moon.
That would be like, really inconvenient.”
You had stopped listening. “Interesting.”
to get up from the couch. “You know, my head does feel like the seize of the
moon. And… Wait, what are you doing?” He stumbled towards you.
up. “I’m looking for sweatpants. I don’t think you wanna sleep in your good
pants, right?” Without thinking, you scanned the bottom shelf and your eyes
fell on a heavy, iron box. What the hell?
drunk Matthew knew that the box contained secrets that you weren’t supposed to
know. He tumbled forward and landed half on you, trying to keep you from
opening the box.
You let out
a cry of surprise as the drunk boy fell on you. His weight caused you to fall
over, with Matt on top of you. If he wasn’t so drunk, this position would be
very exciting. But his wide pupils and red cheeks reminded you that Matt was
indeed very drunk, and therefore probably had no clue what he was doing. You
pushed him off you and sat up. “What the hell, Matt?”
guilty, a little like a lost puppy. “You weren’t supposed to see the box.”
He shook his
head. “Can’t tell you.”
“Fine,” you said.
He relaxed a bit, till he saw you leaped forward to the box. “No!” He cried out
again, and he launched himself at you once more. It was too late, because your
fingers had already opened the iron box and threw the lid off. Matt fell on top
of you, but you had already seen enough: a black and red suit, and a mask with
two very familiar horns.
And that was
two weeks ago. You had found out the morning after that Matt didn’t remember
anything from his drunk adventure. And you had waited for him to tell you the
truth himself, but now your patience was long gone. So you decided to tease
him, so he would found out you knew.
You saw Matt’s
eyebrows furrowing and you tried your best not to laugh. He looked so confused,
and you secretly enjoyed it. You continued dropping subtle hints throughout the
entire evening, which resulted Foggy into thinking you were already drunk. But
you could see Matt’s mind racing every time you called him Devils boy, horny
boy (which was one of your favourites) and Red. You also casually brought up
vigilantes and superheroes, but Matt steered the conversation away from those
subjects pretty quickly.
I’m gonna go home, and I think you should too. But hé, who am I to order you
anything? See you tomorrow, Matt. And y/n, take care, okay?” Foggy left the
bar, and Matt immediately grabbed your arm. “Let’s go outside for a talk,” he
whispered into your ear, before dragging you to a small alley next to Josie’s.
He had a firm grip on your arm, but it didn’t hurt. He also didn’t let go.
Red, what’s the matter?” You said, with a cheeky grin on your face.
rather annoyed. “How do you know?” He said in a low voice.
You decided to play innocent, make him suffer a little bit longer.
Matt took a
deep breath. “That I’m…” He didn’t finish his sentence, because he knew he didn’t
have to. You let out a laugh. “Daredevil?”
you closer to him, so your face was just inches away from his. “How?”
close to him suddenly made your knees weak. You saw his plump lips, the stubble
on his chin and the little freckles on his nose. You had never seen those
“You told me
yourself,” you whispered. Why were you suddenly so nervous? You had waited for
this moment so long!
confused. “You were drunk,” you explained with a dry throat. “Two weeks ago. I
found the box with your gear, and you told me everything.” You noticed that his
hands were on your arms, not gripping tightly anymore, but softly stroking the
speechless. “I won’t tell anyone,” you quickly added. He relaxed a bit. “I
know,” he murmured. “Actually, I’m quite happy you know now.”
“You are so
hard to keep secrets from. Like Jesus, y/n, you’re like a detective, sticking
your nose in everything.”
You let out
a laugh, and Matt smiled when he heard that sound. He brought his head closer
to yours. “So did you enjoy it? Torturing me this evening?” He teased. You
laughed again. “I did, actually, thank you.” He smiled too, and without
thinking, you smashed your lips on his. You felt him freeze for a few seconds,
and it made you think that you made a terribly mistake, but on the moment you
wanted to pull back, he started kissing you back. His hand moved to the side of
your face, cupping your cheek, and his other hand pulled you even closer. The
blood rushed to your cheeks, and you lost yourself in this make out session. He
softly bit on your bottom lip, and you pulled back. Matt looked at you with his
Red, or I might start to think you’ve got the devil in you.”
“No, no, no!” you shake your head and place your hand on Harry’s bicep. “’t’s not the number of cards you have that’s the issue. ‘t’s the fact that you have absolutely no idea how to play the game.”
“Well then tell me!” he bursts out, throwing his hands in the air.
“Been tryin’ to! For the past half hour!” you laugh and bury your face in the side of the sofa, little snorts escaping through your giggles.
Harry grunts in frustration and snatches the cards out of your hands, beginning to shove all of the cards back in the box. He mumbles about how if capitalism weren’t so rampant in the world today, it would be much easier to learn how to play a simple card game while intoxicated. You choose not to mention that he just dropped at least
€6000 on new Gucci items within the past day and a half and has absolutely no place to be grumbling about capitalism, but you feared he might actually become mad and not speak to you for the rest of the evening.
You hiccup with laughter and make an attempt to stand up from your seated position on the floor, against the coffee table in Harry’s living room. “Gotta pee,” you say as you grab onto the side of the table in an attempt to stabilize yourself. You place your palm on your mate’s head as you walk by, climbing over his spider-like limbs. He takes a swig from the bottle of Fireball with one hand and shoos you off with the other.
In the silence of the bathroom, you begin to realize how intoxicated you really are. You will yourself to sober up, pinching the skin on your cheeks, knowing that you have to work in the morning. But it’s been so long since you’ve gotten to hang out with just Harry, and you missed your best friend. Looking down at the chipped nail polish on your fingernails, you swallow harshly, trying to physically push familiar feelings back down into your gut.
Shownu: club….but he’d take some time before agreeing. Though he’d rather stay at home most nights and not restrain the skinship, he’ll still be down for going out and letting loose as long as you’ve convinced him.
Wonho: club, but he’ll want to go back home in a few hours. Idk what you expected to be going out to a club with him and not have him be jealous. He’ll keep you close to him and throw dirty looks at any sneaky eyes, but at the end of the day he just wants to keep you all for himself, and tbh he’d be too stressed over that to let loose.
Minhyuk: home. He really isn’t the type to wanna party often, even if it was once in a while. He’d prefer to have get togethers and kick back with his closest friends, and you ofc, than to be dancing with a bunch of drunk strangers.
Kihyun: club. He’ll be dressed to perfection and both of you would be the eye candy of the night, everyone would want to get close enough to dance with yall. He’d prefer it if he didn’t spend the entire night on the dancefloor, and loves people watching with you from the bar, as you two laugh at the drunk people who are busting out the best moves.
Hyungwon: home. You won’t see him hitting the folks on the dance floor anytime soon, he’d be too annoyed with the drunk behavior from everyone. On the rare occasions that he does and go out and party with you, he’s in the back of the room and silently judging everybody, including you probably.
Jooheon: club. It’s always lit when you go out with him, and he’ll always be the life of for party. He won’t get drunk, or drink at all tbh, he’s having too much fun being the center of the attention. Ends up being the DJ by the end of the night and puts on the most fire tracks, “yo yo yo, check out this group called Monsta X, you won’t regret-”
I.M: home. He’s down for occasional turn ups, but he’s happier doing other things like shopping or hanging out wherever. He esp likes it when you’re both chilling and listening to music, since this gives him inspiration to write some of his own tracks.
A/N: So I saw this cute af wedding prompt and it was all I’ve ever wanted to write, so here’s some fluffy goodness to make up for the horrendous angst I’ve written before, and the smut that’s going to come- pun totally intended.
I listened to two songs while writing this- ‘You Always Hurt The One You Love’ by The Mills Brothers and ‘Five Minutes More’ by Frank Sinatra.
Summary: Alpha! Sam in a world where he is desperately searching for his soulmate and omega! Reader is afraid of just about everything. Female reader.
Nights had become increasing long and cold for the thirty something male. His large body ached and craved for a body beside him. He wouldn’t even care if his soulmate had cold feet and tried to warm them against his legs in the middle of the night, he just wanted them there. Sure, he knew it took time and it wasn’t exactly appealing to live in a bunker with his brother but he could offer safety, love, a home. Sam Winchester just needed them here.
Letting out a sigh, he pushed himself up off his bed and out toward the center of the bunker. Running a hand through his ever growing hair, he grabbed his warn denim jacket and slipped on his shoes. He left the note he always left Dean and emerged into the night.
Puffs of smoke like air left his chapped lips in the dark of the night. He stuffed his warn hands into his pockets and let out a low whine. Could an alpha rut over an omega he never met? Yes, Sam decided as he entered the bar.
His claimed spot in the corner was open and he went towards it eagerly. The give of the leather on the booth seat was comforting. Resting his head in his hands he sighed, hearing the clink of a bottle on the table top. “Thanks Ellen.”
The older woman smiled with her eyes but kept her lips in a firm line. “On me tonight. You deserve it.”
Sam gave her a quick, fond smile and put the glass bottle to his lips. His eyes flickered over the bar, the territorial scent of alpha pulsed through the loud room as he habitually pulled his left sleeve up, revealing the three black dots lined up the underside of his wrist vertically. He knew his soulmate would have the same tattoo, so to speak, and they would be his omega and his life would get a little better.
The atmosphere in Harvelle’s bar shifted as two young, drunk, stumbling alphas left the bar eagerly, a fun night ahead. They had been by the pool table, with a young girl. She was left behind, and her face painted a picture of fear. Sam soon reasoned her need for fear as the sweet, honeysuckle scent of omega filled his senses. She was a sweet one for sure.
Another beer down, and the omega was now pacing, wringing her hands. If Sam was closer, he might have confirmed the tears in her eyes. Several other alphas had picked up on her nerve wracking scent and instinctively Sam was bothered.
He watched as Ellen brought the beautiful girl a drink, and offered her a pat on the back. Fuck it, he thought. Sam took slow, cautious steps her way. Her eyes immediately flashed up to him. A dark blush covered her full cheeks and he silently cooed. “Um, hi. I’m Sam.”
A long pause followed. “Y/N.” Sam repeated your name slowly in his head and decided it was lovely. Almost as lovely as the wave of your scent that crashed into him as you crossed your legs.
“Well Y/N would you mind if I joined you?” You couldn’t help the pathetic whine that let your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I won’t hurt you.”
Another long pause and Sam was flustered by how clammy his hands were. You nodded eventually, and motioned to the empty chair beside you. “Sorry, I just, well, you’re an alpha and holy hell you’re huge.”
Sam grinned at your comment and didn’t even try and deny it. Innocence radiated from you and he just decided to leave the innuendo there. “Your friends from earlier, they were alphas.”
You had finally gotten enough alcohol in your system to look him in the eyes again which nearly killed you as they were slightly lighter than before and had a warm amber glow about them. His scent seemed to drown out every other alpha’s. He was whiskey, fireplace smoke, and possibly an old library. It was intoxicating to say the least. “Yes, but they aren’t the dad that Warrant bitches about in Cherry Pie.”
Sam shook his head with laughter, causing his long hair to brush his shoulders.”Wow, get me for being old and tall. “ He could tell you where young, baby fat hadn’t quite left yet, but he honestly didn’t want it to.
“Mostly height. I can’t criticize age when I’m twenty-one and having a midlife crisis.”
Once again, you had managed to charm Sam, and his thoughts were simple spurts of your name. He had the primal desire to protect you which extended far beyond his empathy for all omegas. His eyes flickered toward the pool table.”Your friends are gonna be a few minutes.” He offered a dimply smile.”Could I buy you a drink and challenge you to a game of pool?”
Basic instinct told you to be cautious of getting drunk around alphas.”I’m going to have to say no to the drink.” And Sam felt his chest fall with rejection. “But I’ll still play ya.”
A beautifully strange hope swarmed his chest as you said yes, but deflated when your sleeves rose up as you broke for the game, revealing a thick white bandage on the underside of your left wrist.
[a/n - wooo, guess who’s finally uploading!! I have had such a stressful few weeks with exams & stuff but I’m here. Please be patient for the next imagine because I have no idea when it will be posted. Adios]
Could you do an imagine were the reader is dating john and she catches him in the garrison with a girl all over him and he tries to play it off like it’s nothing but she puts him and the girl in there place in front of everyone (sorta a girl power/takes no sh*t/knows she deserves better/mic drop and walk out kinda situation). He realises he’s acted like a little sh*t and goes to find her?? Just an idea for you to play around with??
Prompt: Lance finally got Keith to agree to take a night off to go to a bar with him. Keith gets a little bit more drunk than he thought.
(inspired by that one scene from the flash :3)
(i swear it wasn’t supposed to be this long but it happened)
word count: 4536
After hours of convincing, Lance had finally gotten Keith to crack, and allow him to take him on a night out for drinks.
“C'mon, Keith, can’t you just have one night off? Just for tomorrow night?” Lance pleaded as he watched Keith wipe down the counter for the evening.
“Lance, six hours of every five days of my life revolve around making coffee, why would I wanna go out to be surrounded by more drinks?” Keith tossed the rag aside, finished, and removed his apron.
Lance rolled his eyes, “To hang out with me, of course!”
Keith scoffed, failing to fight off the smile coming to his face. He came around and joined Lance, sitting beside him.
“Plus,” Lance continued, playing with the straw of his caramel frappe, “You really look like you need a night off. I think all that coffee aroma seeped into your brain and lost all your will to have fun.”
Keith raised an eyebrow, “You work here too, you know.”
“I do,” Lance nodded, sipping more of his drink, “The morning shift. And since we have no classes tomorrow, I suggest you ask Shiro for the night off too. That’s an order.”
“What about Hunk and Pidge?”
Lance waved his hands, “Those two are working on their project tomorrow night too. It’ll just be you and me, two friends, hanging out in a bar.”
Keith fiddled with the keys in his hands, his mind contemplating on what to do. On one hand, he’s got to deal with annoying but tired college students complain to him about the amount of assignments they had to do. On the other hand, he could take a night off, alone, with the guy he’s had a crush on ever since Pidge introduced them.
Well, a night off doesn’t sound all bad after all.
Keith sighed, looking back at Lance with a small smile. “Fine, but I’m not getting drunk.”
“We’ll see.” Lance winked, slurping the frappe empty.
Sure, it wasn’t exactly a ‘date-date’ he wanted, but Lance decided to think of it as one step closer to the day he finally grows the balls to ask Keith out on a real date. But for now, the night was going to be about drinks, dancing, stress relieving, and it’ll be just the two of them. And that’s good enough for him.
Anyways, that’s what led the two of them here, at the Altean Bar, watching a happy drunk guy sing karaoke in the microphone without a care in the world.
The audience clap, cheering the guy on. Here at the Altean Bar, no one cared if you were a good singer or not. As long as you got the guts to get up on that little stage and sing some karaoke, you’re okay in everyone’s book. Lance likes to come here whenever he feels down about a heartbreak, or stressed over his classes.
He looks over to Keith, wondering how the guy reacts to all this. Thankfully, he sees him laughing at the drunk man amusingly, clapping along with the audience.
The more he stares at him, the more Lance realizea that he just loves seeing this side of him, the Keith letting himself go loose, like the weight of his shoulders has just been lifted.
He wouldn’t mind getting bubbly himself, and turns over to one of the bartenders he recognized, “Hey, Michy, can you open up a tab for us?”
Keith claps a round of applause with the audience, hearing the song finish with the guy holding his arms up at the sky. Honestly, he had never seen someone so hyped to sing, yet do so terribly and not give a single crap of what everyone else thinks.
Well, maybe he has. I mean, Lance does have his moments.
“Man, drunk singing, can you imagine!” Keith turns around in his seat to face Lance, who was sipping a drink from a glass.
“What’s that, tequila?” Keith teases, moving his eyes from Lance to the drink playfully.
“Cherry coke, actually,” Lance chuckles, waving the drink to Keith’s face, “I gotta say, I’m a little offended.”
Keith rolls his eyes, seeing another drunk singer take her place onstage. An intro of a pop song he doesn’t remember the name of began to play, egging the audience on. Lance lets out a loud whoop, raising his glass, shouting, “YONCÉ!!!”
Keith shakes his head at Lance’s excitement, and decides that maybe a little drink wouldn’t hurt anyone. He catches a bartender, and pulls out some money. “Can I get a Long Island Iced Tea?”
The bartender nods, not even accepting the money that Keith had offered.
“It’ll be on your tab, buddy,” he answers, smiling, turning away from him to make his order.
“Tab?” Keith asks, facing back over to Lance with a confused expression, “You started a tab for us?”
Lance downs the rest of his cola empty, and smirks, “Is that a problem?”
Keith turns into a light shade of pink, shaking his head in response. The bartender came back with a tall glass with lemons stuck at the rim. He thanks the man, and takes a sip of the drink. Keith took control over the sour expression he feels his face make, wincing a little by how quickly the flavor tinged his tongue, and feel it burn as it goes down his throat. He just shrugs it off, trying to get himself used to the taste, and continues to drink until he can no longer feel any more of the liquid in the glass.
“Woah,” Lance chuckles, staring at Keith with wide eyes of surprise, “That’s…that’s fast.”
Keith slams the glass on the counter and gasps, like he had just ran a marathon. He turns to back at Lance with a lighthearted chuckle. His vision became a little blurry, the images of Lance began to sway. And there he is, Lance, not even a little tipsy.
“That -hic-,” Keith shakes his head, blinking a couple times in an attempt to regain his focus, “Feels goo-d.”
“Guess I’m the designated driver,” Lance chuckles, checking out his empty glass, “Good thing cherry cokes ain’t all bad.”
“Hey, ex -hic- scuse me,” Keith hiccups, calling over the spinny image of the bartender again, “Do you think I can get…uh..couple shots of Dying Bastard?”
The bartender raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t question it. Keith lets himself lean back on his seat, before realizing that he was sitting on a stool and almost falls.
Lance catches him just before he completely lost his balance, letting out a soft laugh, “I’m starting to think you don’t handle alcohol very well.”
Keith scoffs, “What -hic- makes you say that?”
Lance shakes his head, admiring the pink tinge of color on Keith’s cheeks whenever he downs one shot of Dying Bastard after another.
The rest of the drinks Lance had were just different styles of soda, which to be honest, he cant complain, as he sees Keith laughing and smiling, slowly becoming drunker by the minute. Lance was sober to see all of it in action, and he wouldn’t mind remembering all of this stuff tomorrow.
Lance learns a lot by this though, like how he learns that Keith is a happy drunk, and smiles more than usual. While drunk, he tends to talk about some bizzare conversations and answers to Lance’s ridiculous questions, like he had just gotten his wisdom teeth taken out. Apparently, drunk Keith is more open to his emotions than the regular emo Keith, which Lance doesn’t seem to mind, but intrigues him so.
Gradually, he becomes more drunk, drunk enough for Lance to hear the slur deepen in Keith’s voice. Lance knows the limit amount of shots that are enough to come back hurling out from the stomach, and decides to take away Keith’s alcohol privileges for the night. That’s when he decides to secretly tell their bartender, Michael, to switch his shots to something more subtle, like a club soda, which thankfully, Keith was too drunk didn’t notice the big difference in the taste.
Lance lost track of time, it couldn’t have been that long, but seeing Keith already let loose, and how fast he’s gotten from tipsy to drunk, time doesn’t seem to matter.
Lance is having a great time with drunk Keith, asking him random questions, balancing cherries on his nose, enjoying that drunk, breathtaking smile he doesn’t get to see often.
From one drunk singer to another, some time has passed. Keith giggles, and stands up, wobbling a bit. Lance offers some help, but he just waves him away.
“I j -hic-ust need to -hic- bathroom,” Keith smiles, stumbling away from Lance to where he sees the restroom sign, “I -hic- got this!”
Lance chuckles as he watches him disappear, hoping that he just needed to release the dam, and not to let all those drinks slip out of his mouth into chunks.
Just that image alone made Lance get up from his seat, and make his way to the washroom, where he sees a pool of a mess.
He spots one guy vomiting into the toilet, with a friend of his patting his back, saying comforting words. Now that reminds him of Hunk. Wonder how the project with Pidge was going.
He sees other guys actually doing their business, the rest of the stalls were empty, and Lance hasnt spotted that recognizable mullet anywhere here.
He left the bathroom, shivering as the scent in the air changes when he went back to the bar. He walks back to where he sat, hoping Keith was just stumbling his way back to him.
He turns back to the bartender, but this time a woman, who seems to be distracted as she talks with one of her coworkers.
“Excuse me,” Lance says anyways, pushing his empty glasses aside, “Can I get a Blue Lion?”
The woman doesn’t seem to react, because she just walked past him with an unamused expression.
“Hey-” Lance tries to get her attention, but was cut off by the sound of a voice booming through the microphone.
“MISTER LANCE MCCLAIN!!”
Lance whips his head around to face the stage, confused by who just called him by his name. His jaw drops in surprise as he sees the one and only, Keith Kogane, on the karaoke stage.
“COME ON DOWN!!” Keith laughs drunkily, motioning Lance to come to him, “Come on!”
Lance shakes his head, flustering a nervous smile as Keith doesn’t seem to give up just yet.
The audience’s attention turns to him, and Keith starts to chant his name.
“Lance! Lance! Lance! Lance!”
The audience joined in, clapping in rythm, urging Lance to come forward.
“Lance! Lance!! Lance!! Lance!!!!”
After a few seconds of hearing his name repeat over and over, Lance caves, and stands up from his seat. From the moment he does, the bar echoes with the sounds of applause and cheers from the audience.
“Come show us what you got!!” Keith slurs, giggling as Lance steps on stage.
Lance chuckles, standing in front of the second microphone on the stage. He smiles back nervously at the roaring audience, leaning over to Keith, “I’m not much of a singer, and you’re not much of a drinker.”
The audience’s cheering dies down, and Keith gives Lance a wink, causing him to blush red all over.
“We’re gonna bring this place dOWN!” Keith slurs again, and the music starts up. Lance recognizes it immediately, a song from one of his favorite musicals. He lets out a short laugh, surprised to know that Keith was the one who chose this song.
Keith starts off, and in his drunken state, of course, he sings off-key, bouncing to the music.
“Summer lovin’ had me a blast
Summer lovin’ happened to fast…”
Lance realizes he was going to sing Danny Zuko’s part, and smiles. He’s sober, and what more to do in a bar karaoke than to amaze everyone with his voice, his tone harmoniously, all with a smirk on his face.
“I met a girl, crazy for me…”
Keith scrunches his nose and looks back at Lance, his expression looks either offended or confused. He still sang in an off key tone, his voice cracking when his tried to hit the high notes, but it wasn’t like he had any control over that.
“Met a boy cute as can be,”
They sang the next lines together, not exactly in perfect harmony, but it made Lance’s smile grow wider.
“Summer days drifting away to oh oh the summer nights…”
Keith sways his head back and forth as he sang the next lines.
They went on with the song, and the audience loved it. The two of them were on fire, drunk or sober, it still felt like they really did bring the place down. It was fun, up to the point where Keith started to dance on the tables. Before Lance could stop him, he doubled over in laughter, because no matter how drunk Keith gets, it doesn’t make him a better dancer.
It’s when he starts hopping from table to table is when Lance collects himself from his laughter in amusement, and follows after Keith before he hurts himself, hurts someone, or gets himself kicked out.
“Keith, come on!” Lance chuckles, “Down, boy!”
Keith looks down at Lance amusingly, and jumps down from the table. Lance stretches his arms out on instinct, and catches Keith, having all the air knock out of him before they both hit the ground.
Keith gives another giggle and hiccup. He sits up, not acknowledging the weight of Lance under him.
“Again!” He slurs, throwing his arms up in the air.
Lance groans, struggling to pick himself up from the ground. He looks at how childish Keith has gotten, and one look on his phone made him jump.
“Woah!” Lance gasps, “I think we should get you home, now. It’s half past midnight, and I promised Shiro I’d bring you home. Unharmed.”
“No,” Keith whines, holding onto Lance’s hand, “I like it here, Lan -hic- ce. With you.”
Lance feels his face heat up as a new shade of red steams, stopping the gears in his mind to work. Did Keith really just said that? No, no, he’s drunk, Lance. This is the part where you take him home safe.
Lance shakes his head, and lifts him up, “Come on, Keith, I’ll take you home.”
Keith lets out another giggle, this time, it sounded more tired than the last one. Lance sighs, knowing that any minute now Keith was going to pass out anyways.
Just as Lance was about to walk away, Keith grabs his hand again and mumbles, “Carry me?”
Those two words from his mouth is all it took to make Lance into a stuttering mess. Keith was giving him that damn smile he had grown to love, those pleading eyes that would make him do anything for him, and that pouty lip that always wants to make Lance lean down and kiss.
But, not to tonight. Not when Keith was drunk.
Lance lets out a breath of confidence, and looks for a place where he could carry Keith. Over the shoulder? Nah, he’ll probably find a way to fall over. One arm over himself like a side hug? Nah, he’ll just drag himself on the ground.
“Just wait a tick,” Lance says, before remembering that their tab was still opened up. He tells Keith to sit tight and just stay, and he’ll be right back.
Lance left Keith and his mullet behind and pulled out his wallet, going over to the bartender that’s been serving him and Keith’s drinks for the whole evening.
“Hey, Michael,” Lance greets, pulling out the maximum amount of money to pay for his and Keith’s drinks, “Tab’s closed and all.”
Michael smiles, and takes the money from him to put in the register, “So, you and your boyfriend going so soon?”
“I wish,” Lance blushes at Michael’s tease, but he found the words to respond with, “Tonight, it’s just us as friends, I’m taking him home before-”
Lance and Michael hear the shout echo around the bar. He turns around, choking back on his laughter and blush red as he sees Keith, dancing back on the table, but with his shirt off, waving it in the air. Lance tries so hard to look away, but he just couldn’t. He could hear his heart pumping to a stop, struggling to break itself out of his body like a prison, and run over to claim Keith as its own.
The people around him seems to love it, taking pictures and videos of him, laughing drunkily along with him.
“Yeah,” Michael chuckles, pulling Lance’s attention away for just a second, “He’s a keeper.”
Lance gives Michael a two fingered salute, before running off to fetch Keith from the tables again.
“Lance!!” Keith slurs, smirking back at him with excited eyes, “Catch me!!”
“No-!” Lance tries, before Keith starts to lean forward, and Lance catches him with his body again.
“Keith,” Lance groans, turning over to get Keith’s attention back. He was going to give him a small, playful lecture, but he figures that was Shiro’s job as his big brother. “Let’s go home.”
Keith picks himself up, followed up by Lance.
“Do you…still want me to carry you?”
Keith nods, yawning, allowing Lance to pick his whole body up bridal style. He was heavier than Lance thought, but he can still manage to get him all the way to his car.
Lance feels the heat radiating off Keith, and pulls him closer, finding comfort in it. Keith wraps his hands around his neck, and his head finds a home in the crook of it, burying his face. Lance catches his breath, turning full red and almost loses his grip on Keith. He shifts his weight in his arms, and smiles at the adorable latter he was cradling in his arms.
It took him a minute to notice the crowd that surrounded Keith were now staring at them in amusement, echoes of “aww’s” went around the room.
Lance lets out a nervous chuckle, “Good night, everybody!”
The crowd claps for them, whistling and cheering, as Lance carries Keith out of the Altean Bar with confusion. Instead, he pushes all that bar stuff behind, and focuses on getting sleepy, drunk Keith into his car and home safe, making it his first priorities.
Lance fought back to ignore the sleepy slurs from Keith throughout the ride home. He even wrapped Keith up in his jacket, just so he wouldn’t catch a cold.
When Lance pulled up Keith’s driveway, he tries to shake him awake.
No response. Just more sleepy slurs. And it seems that Keith had attached himself onto Lance’s jacket too.
Lance sighs, and unbuckles his seatbelt. He walks around to the other side of the car, and opens the door. Of course Keith passed out. He drank more than enough for him to start dancing on tables. Lance chuckles at the memory, even though it was less than fifteen minutes ago.
Lance decides to take Keith’s weight in his arms again, and carries him bridal style to the front door.
With his free finger, Lance pushes the button, hearing a muffle of one ring of a bell inside the house.
He wonders if Keith, who seems to have a pretty tight grip on both Lance and his jacket, has the set of keys in his pocket or somewhere.
Just before he could search his pockets, the front door creaked open, revealing Shiro, Keith’s older brother, wearing a Flash t-shirt, boxer shorts, and animal slippers.
“Lance?” Shiro mumbles with a sleepy tone in his voice, showing that he had just woken up, “What are you- Keith? It’s almost one am!”
“Good thing it’s not a school night, then,” Lance chuckles, shifting Keith’s weight in his arms, “Keith got a little more bubbly than I thought he would.”
“Just put him in his room,” Shiro yawns, making no effort to smile, and widened the door more for Lance to come in. “And you can spend the night if you want, I know the university isn’t that far, but I’m not letting one of our friends go out alone at one in the morning.”
Lance smiles, grateful for Shiro’s offer. He walks towards the door that he knows was the entrance to Keith’s room, before hearing Shiro’s voice again.
“No funny business, Lance,” Shiro warns, trudging his way back to his own room, “I’ll know. These walls are thin.”
Lance felt a shiver down his spine, looking back at Shiro with the most serious face he could do. “Never.”
And with that, Shiro shut his door closed, and Lance shut Keith’s door closed.
He’s seen his room before, he’s been over to Keith’s house a lot, come to think of it. But right now, getting Keith to bed was also a priority tonight.
Lance felt a shiver run through Keith, and immediately walks towards the bed. He settles him down, gently, unlocking his arms from his neck. However, Keith still made a home by gripping onto the jacket, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind. It looks like that it gives Keith a calm effect, like a ground for him to hold on.
As he looks down at the sleepy Keith, Lance felt that warm feeling of fondness grow in his chest again. He pulls the blankets over him, and hears Keith mumble a couple words in his sleep. Lance can tell that he’ll be feeling all that alcohol in the morning, and he’ll be here right beside him when Keith hunches over the toilet in the bathroom.
Speaking of bathroom, Lance took a small whiff of himself, and he can smell all the alcohol from the bar rub off on him.
Maybe a nice little shower wouldn’t do any harm.
So Lance stands up, and starts searching for any pajamas Keith had in his drawers. He found a nice red tank top and black basketball shorts that were perfect, and took them with him into the bathroom, and starts freshening up.
Okay, what’s one night without his skin care routine going to do? He can live with one night, no problemo.
Once Lance lets himself out of the bathroom and back into Keith’s room, he sees Keith up on his bed, awake, and snuggling with Lance’s jacket. He looked more tired with the bags under his eyes, and looked like he was about to pass out any minute.
“Keith?” Lance calls out softly, staring back at the boy with an endearing expression, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Keith looks back at Lance, a small frown on his face. He wiped his eyes like he was wiping a tear away, and in a small voice, he says, “I thought you -hic- left me.”
Lance shakes his head, shifting comfortably in Keith’s clothes. “Never.”
Keith smiles, and faceplants into his jacket. Lance assumes he had just passed out again, before he sees Keith raise his head and sigh, “Your jacket smells nice.”
Lance can’t take this drunk cutie anymore, and before he knows it, Keith drags himself to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I have the same shirt.” Keith slurs again, chuckling quietly.
Lance looks down on Keith’s attire, and decides that he was not going to sleep in that.
“Uhh…here,” Lance turns over to Keith’s drawers, and picked up the first pajama clothes for Keith to wear, “Put these on.”
He gives the clothes to Keith, which were similar to the ones he was wearing. A blue tank top with gray basketball shorts. Keith sets Lance’s jacket aside, and takes the clothes from Lance.
Lance grins, and turns around as he hears Keith strip himself out of his clothes to put on pajamas. Sure, they were both guys, but seeing Keith wearing nothing but his underwear was something Lance had to fight to look at, because no matter what circumstances, his mamá had always taught him to be a gentleman.
Plus he wouldn’t be able to function properly if he did see Keith in bed and shirtless.
“A little help?”
Reluctantly, Lance turns around to see what the problem is, and boy, does he see it.
Keith manages to strip his bar clothes out. It’s putting on the pajamas himself is what’s troubling him. Sitting there wearing nothing but his boxers, Keith managed to get his shorts on his head, and one of his foot was through the head hole of the shirt.
Lance shakes his head, sighing, before stepping forward to help Keith put his clothes on the right way, catching his breath in minimals.
Once the deed was done, Keith found Lance’s jacket again and cuddled himself into it. What was up with him? Seeing Keith this adorable, it just does things to Lance, you know? He’s never seen him like this, honestly, he looks just as vulnerable as a stray puppy who just got rescued. It makes his heart feel like it ran a marathon, like the air from his lungs was sucked out of him by a dementor, and he just melts into softness of it all.
Lance led Keith back to his bed, and pulls the covers over him once more. Keith made himself more comfortable as he sinks into the pillows and wraps his arms around both the jacket and blanket.
Lance hums in response, tucking in Keith like his mamá would when he was a kid.
“Thank you for tonight…”
Lance smiles proudly, making the bed more comfortable for Keith.
Lance goes over to close the lights of Keith’s room, allowing the dark to fill in for the night’s sleep. Just when Lance was about to sleep on the nearest bean bag Keith had in his room, Keith spoke up in a small voice, but just loud enough for only Lance to hear.
He shifts in his bed, laying down on his side to face Lance.
“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
Lance raises his eyebrows, even if Keith couldn’t see him do it. He stands up, and walks over to where he can make out the edges of the bed.
“Yeah,” Lance answers, dipping the mattress down as it takes in the new weight. He rubs Keith’s side to comfort him, humming a song his papá likes to sing. He imagines the soft, calm look on Keith’s face, picturing the way his mouth would slightly pout as he sleeps, and the way his cheeks squish into the pillow as he sinks further into it like a marshmallow. Even in the dark, where Lance can’t even see him, Keith looked absolutely perfect.
Keith feels himself melt under Lance’s touch, and not knowing that the next morning was going to be hell for him, at least he’s got Lance there to take care of him and just be there for him. Keith’s got Lance to wake up with, as Lance did fall asleep in bed with him that night, feeling his warmth take over him like the summer.
Bucky was lost in his thoughts, sat on the bar counter, staring at his own hands. By now, alcohol had made effect on his mind so, his thoughts were not clear at all. But his memory was intact. What an irony that was, since he was drinking to forget, but his mind did not let him.
Send me ☺ and I’ll bold what I can see our muses doing together at New Year’s
Sitting on a roof, watching the fireworks ¦ Starting their own fireworks ¦ Dropping firecrackers into gullies ¦ Attending big family dinners ¦ Just sitting at home, relaxing and watching TV ¦ Planning a movie marathon ¦ Playing board games ¦ Eating raclette or fondue ¦ Having a winter barbecue ¦ Starting a bonpfire at the beach ¦ Having a sunset picnic ¦ Having a boat trip ¦ Ice skating ¦ Dancing slowly and closely ¦ Having a romantic dinner for two ¦ Lighting as many sparklers as possible ¦ Visiting a bar ¦ Getting drunk together ¦ Going to a Karaoke bar ¦ Dressing up each other ¦ Creating wishlists for the near year