Withnail and I: One Good Day

Mar 27, 2008 16:13

Title: One Good Day
Prompt: Someone gets very drunk, and starts giving someone else head. Person number two thrusts. Person number one gags, and...well. When you're drunk, the whole vomiting reflex is hard to suppress.
Fandom: Withnail and I
Warnings: You can have a reference to either non-con or bestiality. Whatever you like.
Author:
emeriin
Word Count: Around 850
Pairing: Withnail/Marwood
A/N: Apparently, my beta has a life, who would have thought it? This is set way before the movie and it's the fluffiest I can manage with these two.

It had been a good day so far. Withnail was out, probably making a fool out of himself and Marwood had the flat to himself, although considering the state of the place, this was nothing to be proud of. If he had been a braver man, he would have cleaned up but he wasn’t, so sleeping, drinking and getting some writing done was all he wanted to do today.
 But God obviously hated him, as a Withnail-shaped mess came crashing through the door.

‘They are all gonna suffer, I hope a massive dung bomb falls on all their houses.’ It was that mood again.

Marwood just sighed; time to play the all-suffering, ever-so-patient wife.

When he entered his room, Withnail was on his bed. Because the clingy, inexplicably cute bastard obviously couldn’t sleep in his own bedroom and leave Marwood alone, just for a little while.

Judging from Withnail’s foul mood and the fact that his mood had just been ruined, he wasn’t quite sure how they got into this position, with him naked and with his legs spread and Withnail in between his thighs. To be honest, it wasn’t particularly pleasing. He was uncomfortable in his position, seeing Withnail’s spine through his grey, pale skin was distracting and the hair he was grabbing, mostly out of habit, was seriously in need of a wash. The only thing he could do was raise his hips, trying to get something out of this.

But that was the least of his worries. Withnail was now struggling to get away. Marwood didn’t quite know why as Withnail was never one for his gag reflex to get the better of him. He was looking an odd colour though and Marwood knew him well enough to know that he was about to retch… oh god, no it was far too late to try and get away. The rotten, brownish, lumpy liquid was everywhere it shouldn’t be. On his cock, on his pubes and dripping from Withnail’s lips who for his own part looked like he desperately wanted a camera to preserve this moment for all time. Marwood, on the other hand, couldn’t see the funny side.

‘You fucking bastard!’

With that exclamation, he stormed off to the bathroom. To his credit, Withnail didn’t follow.

It could have been possible that he was wallowing. He had scrubbed himself raw, the water was a slight tinge of brown but he was warm and alone. That was until the door opened and Withnail stepped in, looking better but smackable with that smirk on his face.

Marwood turned his head away. ‘Feeling better now?’

‘You know a vomiting always did me good.’

And you couldn’t do that before you sucked me off? ‘Humph’ was his educated reply.

Withnail, as always, didn’t take the hint that it was time to leave and knelt down beside the bath.

‘Got everything off? How about I give you a sponge bath?’

‘We don’t have a sponge.’ So they hadn’t got off to a good start in adulthood, it had to get better at some point. Soon, please?

‘We got soap and my fingers.’ There was an evil gleam in his eyes and Marwood knew all too well how good those long fingers could be.

‘Go ahead.’

If Withnail was any closer then the bath would have had two occupants. And they really didn’t want to do that again as their clothes had got ruined, those hangovers were bitches and the flooding made the place even worse and reek of mould.

‘You know, I have a theory about you today.’ Why was it so difficult to talk? Oh, that’s right, it was Withnail’s fault that he knew just where to go.

‘And what’s that?’

‘I’ve got three choices; you’re actually quite decent, this is some kind of demonic possession making you easier to be around or a drug is making you happier.’

‘I would go for the demon.’

There was a short pause, with Marwood just enjoying Withnail’s soapy hands on his back and sides. But Withnail had to pipe up again.

‘Have I told you about the Giant Squid?’

Marwood didn’t know whether to laugh or bash his head against the side of the bath. ‘Withnail, you did not get fucked by a Giant Squid.’

Was that a pout? ‘I did.’

‘You didn’t, you were just very, very high, with an insane fetish.’

‘If you’re not going to believe me then who will?’

‘How could a Giant Squid fuck you anyway? I didn’t know tentacles could have that much of a grip.’

Withnail made a face like he was trying to reach the miniscule part of his brain that actually held logic. ‘I guess. And where would a Squid find a pair of handcuffs that difficult to get out of?’

Marwood just wanted to get out of this conversation. ‘Withnail, listen, you probably just pissed some wanker off. He got in, fucked you while you were high and you would prefer to think that it was a Giant Squid because you’re an insane bastard with a tentacle fetish.’ He ignored the unexplained twist in his stomach.

‘Good job on spoiling the mood.’

‘Sorry. Hey, um, I think I’m okay now. Want to go to my room to try again?’

Withnail grinned. The effect was nice, if slightly unnerving. ‘Let’s go. But this time I’m bottom.’

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