Past-Part Fills Part 7
!!! Discussion about moving the kink meme to Dreamwidth!!!
Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
"You look very good tonight," Francis said as the waitress left. His hands hadn't left Matthew's all this time, and he was running his thumb over Matthew's palm.
"Geez, how drunk are you?" Matthew said, a little too flippantly.
"Only a little," Francis said.
"Only a little? How does that stack in Bad Friends Level Drunkenness, though? A little drunk for you guys usually means passed out in a coma for the rest of us non-drinking gods," Matthew said.
"Hmm, you have a point there. For your answer, I only had a couple of delicious fruity drinks at the bar, and that was a while back," Francis said. "In your alcoholic mortal terms, I'm barely buzzed."
"What about the round of shots?" Matthew said.
Francis scoffed. "Matthieu, Matthieu, everyone knows shots don't count to us alcohol gods."
"What about tequila shots?" Matthew said.
"Let me rephrase that: shots don't count unless they're tequila. Or unless it's you taking the shots," Francis said.
Matthew hung his head in mock shame. "Someone has to be the designated driver."
"Your lack of alcohol tolerance is adorable," Francis said.
"Well, my lack of hangovers from not drinking like a fish is pretty nice," Matthew said. "Even if it means I get to be the hangover nurse."
"Hmmm, hangover nurse, I like that one."
"It was either that or 'the hangover bitch,'" Matthew said.
Francis finally pulled his hand away to straighten his hair. A moment of silence passed that technically wasn't awkward, but only made Matthew more aware of the feeling of his heart beating. Maybe it was a bad reaction to the club, but he felt like he wanted to huddle in the bathroom with his head between his knees, breathing into a paper bag.
No, Matthew, you are not ruining this prompt-slash-mostly-welcome-kidnapping with your worrying, he thought. He was filled with panic and hope that the alcohol must've dislodged deep within him. Why couldn't he just be a perfectly respectable slutty drunk rather than a two-drink philosopher.
He could take Francis looking at other girls. He expected it, really. But having Francis look at him like he was the only person in the room....he couldn't take that. He couldn't take the feeling of hope growing in him. He couldn't take Francis loving him and knowing that he wasn't good enough to hold that attention. To keep him.
He felt like swaying again. Damn, whiskey did things to him. He could cut that off his alcohol bucket list. Drinking nail polish remover wasn't his idea of fun, and if it dredged these sorts of things up, well....
"Get me some water will you?" Matthew said. "I'm going for the uh, restroom."
"Alone?" Francis said. There was a definite suggestion in there.
"Yeah, alone. I have to do some, uh, unsexy stuff," Matthew said.
"Ah," Francis said.
Matthew ducked away from the possible awkwardness. Thankfully no one else was in the john. He took off his glasses, put them in his pocket, and leaned over the sink. He was just close enough to see, given his nearsightedness. A twist of the silvery handles and he was cupping cold water in his hands. He splashed his face with the water, trying to wash away this sudden new worry.
A crazy worry. As if that'd ever happy. Francis was drunk and happy. And when he got drunk, he got even more affectionate and lecherous and obviously that was why this was happening.
It was hilarious, really. First he'd gone from being afraid Francis would notice him, then being afraid Francis would forget him. He really couldn't make up his mind, could he?
Reply
Leave a comment