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apportation) wrote2013-06-12 08:48 pm
apportation) wrote2013-06-12 08:48 pm
these are original characters :c
haddy considers it a personal victory that he gets spencer home from a party before midnight. normally when spencer texts him, needing a ride or just wanting to stay the night at haddy's house, it's at least two in the morning. tonight's text comes from kenzie, though, who pretty much just screams by way of capslock that spencer is going to get alcohol poisoning if haddy doesn't come intervene in five minutes or less.
haddy gets there and gets spencer inside his car and seatbelted about a half hour later, but spencer isn't dead so haddy figures kenzie can't really bitch. on the way back home, spencer tells haddy just what exactly made him so drunk—a game of king's cup, which according to spencer he started out doing really well at and then suddenly "everything got a lot harder" which haddy takes to mean spencer skipped buzzed and tipsy and just went straight into shitfaced.
getting spencer out of the car is the hardest part, because he sulks a little about being taken home early and haddy's lack of sympathy makes him actually cling to the inner door handle. haddy tickles him until he lets go involuntarily and shrieks something undignified. by that point spencer's a lot more obedient, willing to let haddy drag him up the driveway and into the house once haddy says, "no more tickling, baby, promise."
from then on it's just a matter of making sure spencer doesn't forget the rest of the world is sleeping and wake up haddy's dad; when haddy has to juggle most of spencer's weight with a handful of water bottles, and chooses to drop the water instead of spencer, spencer shows his gratitude by dissolving into laughter just a few feet from haddy's father's room. other than that there's no real disaster, and when haddy pulls spencer into his room, shutting the door behind them, he tries to count his blessings.
"i don't want to sleep yet," spencer protests almost immediately, stumbling a little when haddy lets go of his arm.
haddy rolls his eyes and pushes an already open water bottle into spencer's hands. babysitting isn't really haddy's forte; he's better with nursing someone's hangover than he is with making a belligerent, drunken spencer do what he says. "it's bedtime for the entire world, dumbass, just drink that and i'll get you some motrin and shit, otherwise you're gonna wake up crying all over me."
"i'm not going to cry," spencer says, sounding affronted. haddy just waves a hand in dismissal and goes for his bookcase, fiddling through a few different bottles to find the motrin. turning his back to spencer is apparently the worst idea, because before he can actually find the medicine, spencer's smacking his hand away from the shelf and wrapping his arms around haddy's waist from behind. "i don't need motrin," spencer singsongs, and haddy thinks spencer's face is pressed into his shoulder, or maybe below it, but he can't tell for sure when spencer's hands are way too close to haddy's belt to be okay.
"listen, spencer," haddy begins, or tries to, since the words come out a little strangled what with spencer's fingers trying to get underneath haddy's clothes, and spencer all but nuzzling haddy's back. "you do need motrin, and you need to quit fondling me and shit 'cause i aint afraid to yell rape and wake up my dad."
this has the exact effect haddy wants it to have, which is to make spencer burst into laughter—or giggles, if haddy's going to be entirely honest. haddy gently swats at spencer's hands and spencer's distracted enough to let it happen; haddy reaches for the ibuprofen once more, trying to count out enough pills to delay spencer's hangover at least until the sun's up.
"haddy," spencer complains from behind, and haddy's barely turned to face him when spencer crowds him up against the wall.
"come on, spence, i'm too tired for this shit," haddy starts to say, and spencer leans up, effectively cutting haddy off with a kiss.
haddy's caught off guard—to put it gently—but luckily by the time he realizes what's going on, spencer's still kissing him. the right thing to do would be push spencer off, but haddy's thought about kissing spencer enough times to not really give a shit about being morally correct. they've spent maybe half of high school dancing around this shit, and haddy's never been stupid enough to think he was the only one, but he also never expected anything to really happen. haddy worries briefly that it's just the alcohol that's making it happen, but then he kisses back and it's nice, all things considered; sure, haddy can taste the jack daniels that's still on spencer's breath, but spencer kisses haddy with a kind of clarity and fierceness that haddy doesn't think any drunk person ought to have.
spencer pulls back after a few moments, and haddy almost follows after him before realizing just how lightheaded he feels. he slouches back against the wall and the fact that spencer's drunk keeps setting off sirens in his head, making him all too aware of how spencer's pressed up against him, obviously not intending to let haddy go anywhere. haddy breathes out on a sigh and when he meets spencer's gaze it's heated and the want in his expression is unmistakable, if only because spencer looks exactly the way haddy feels. "come on," spencer says, but haddy doesn't really need any convincing at this point.
"okay," haddy starts, wanting to add some kind of clause that says spencer has to take some motrin and shut up when haddy wants to sleep. instead, he just says, "okay, yeah, just—kiss me again, spence—" and spencer's mouth is on his all over again.
he's expecting it this time, so instead of just standing there like a dumbass, haddy reaches up to touch spencer's face, thumbing cautiously at his jaw, then his cheek, then tangling his fingers in spencer's hair. spencer lets out this low, desperate sound when haddy coaxes his way past spencer's lips and his fingers go tight in the front of haddy's shirt and it almost makes haddy not mind the bitter edge of whiskey he can taste no matter how hard he ignores it.
it feels like it's been hours by the time haddy gets a grip and reminds himself that spencer is, in fact, still very drunk. but only a few minutes have gone by once haddy pulls away and gets spencer to understand that it's not just to get a couple breaths of air in for the next kiss. "you want me," spencer points out, while haddy puts a few feet of space in between them; this time his hands are shaking when he counts out another four motrin, the others somewhere on the floor by now.
"i do," haddy agrees, because it's easier than lying, or pretending spencer didn't say anything. "but you're drunk, sweetheart." he hands the pills to spencer and then the water, and once spencer takes them, haddy nudges him in the direction of his bed.
"i don't have to be sober," spencer objects, and haddy ignores him. luckily, spencer drops it and swallows the pills, not putting up too much of a fight when haddy helps him change into pajamas.
when haddy climbs in on the other side, spencer presses in close, one of his hands drifting along haddy's hip before settling over haddy's waist instead. "hey," haddy says, once spencer's gotten comfortable. "happy birthday, spencer."
"very happy," spencer says, and presses his face into the crook of haddy's neck.
haddy gets there and gets spencer inside his car and seatbelted about a half hour later, but spencer isn't dead so haddy figures kenzie can't really bitch. on the way back home, spencer tells haddy just what exactly made him so drunk—a game of king's cup, which according to spencer he started out doing really well at and then suddenly "everything got a lot harder" which haddy takes to mean spencer skipped buzzed and tipsy and just went straight into shitfaced.
getting spencer out of the car is the hardest part, because he sulks a little about being taken home early and haddy's lack of sympathy makes him actually cling to the inner door handle. haddy tickles him until he lets go involuntarily and shrieks something undignified. by that point spencer's a lot more obedient, willing to let haddy drag him up the driveway and into the house once haddy says, "no more tickling, baby, promise."
from then on it's just a matter of making sure spencer doesn't forget the rest of the world is sleeping and wake up haddy's dad; when haddy has to juggle most of spencer's weight with a handful of water bottles, and chooses to drop the water instead of spencer, spencer shows his gratitude by dissolving into laughter just a few feet from haddy's father's room. other than that there's no real disaster, and when haddy pulls spencer into his room, shutting the door behind them, he tries to count his blessings.
"i don't want to sleep yet," spencer protests almost immediately, stumbling a little when haddy lets go of his arm.
haddy rolls his eyes and pushes an already open water bottle into spencer's hands. babysitting isn't really haddy's forte; he's better with nursing someone's hangover than he is with making a belligerent, drunken spencer do what he says. "it's bedtime for the entire world, dumbass, just drink that and i'll get you some motrin and shit, otherwise you're gonna wake up crying all over me."
"i'm not going to cry," spencer says, sounding affronted. haddy just waves a hand in dismissal and goes for his bookcase, fiddling through a few different bottles to find the motrin. turning his back to spencer is apparently the worst idea, because before he can actually find the medicine, spencer's smacking his hand away from the shelf and wrapping his arms around haddy's waist from behind. "i don't need motrin," spencer singsongs, and haddy thinks spencer's face is pressed into his shoulder, or maybe below it, but he can't tell for sure when spencer's hands are way too close to haddy's belt to be okay.
"listen, spencer," haddy begins, or tries to, since the words come out a little strangled what with spencer's fingers trying to get underneath haddy's clothes, and spencer all but nuzzling haddy's back. "you do need motrin, and you need to quit fondling me and shit 'cause i aint afraid to yell rape and wake up my dad."
this has the exact effect haddy wants it to have, which is to make spencer burst into laughter—or giggles, if haddy's going to be entirely honest. haddy gently swats at spencer's hands and spencer's distracted enough to let it happen; haddy reaches for the ibuprofen once more, trying to count out enough pills to delay spencer's hangover at least until the sun's up.
"haddy," spencer complains from behind, and haddy's barely turned to face him when spencer crowds him up against the wall.
"come on, spence, i'm too tired for this shit," haddy starts to say, and spencer leans up, effectively cutting haddy off with a kiss.
haddy's caught off guard—to put it gently—but luckily by the time he realizes what's going on, spencer's still kissing him. the right thing to do would be push spencer off, but haddy's thought about kissing spencer enough times to not really give a shit about being morally correct. they've spent maybe half of high school dancing around this shit, and haddy's never been stupid enough to think he was the only one, but he also never expected anything to really happen. haddy worries briefly that it's just the alcohol that's making it happen, but then he kisses back and it's nice, all things considered; sure, haddy can taste the jack daniels that's still on spencer's breath, but spencer kisses haddy with a kind of clarity and fierceness that haddy doesn't think any drunk person ought to have.
spencer pulls back after a few moments, and haddy almost follows after him before realizing just how lightheaded he feels. he slouches back against the wall and the fact that spencer's drunk keeps setting off sirens in his head, making him all too aware of how spencer's pressed up against him, obviously not intending to let haddy go anywhere. haddy breathes out on a sigh and when he meets spencer's gaze it's heated and the want in his expression is unmistakable, if only because spencer looks exactly the way haddy feels. "come on," spencer says, but haddy doesn't really need any convincing at this point.
"okay," haddy starts, wanting to add some kind of clause that says spencer has to take some motrin and shut up when haddy wants to sleep. instead, he just says, "okay, yeah, just—kiss me again, spence—" and spencer's mouth is on his all over again.
he's expecting it this time, so instead of just standing there like a dumbass, haddy reaches up to touch spencer's face, thumbing cautiously at his jaw, then his cheek, then tangling his fingers in spencer's hair. spencer lets out this low, desperate sound when haddy coaxes his way past spencer's lips and his fingers go tight in the front of haddy's shirt and it almost makes haddy not mind the bitter edge of whiskey he can taste no matter how hard he ignores it.
it feels like it's been hours by the time haddy gets a grip and reminds himself that spencer is, in fact, still very drunk. but only a few minutes have gone by once haddy pulls away and gets spencer to understand that it's not just to get a couple breaths of air in for the next kiss. "you want me," spencer points out, while haddy puts a few feet of space in between them; this time his hands are shaking when he counts out another four motrin, the others somewhere on the floor by now.
"i do," haddy agrees, because it's easier than lying, or pretending spencer didn't say anything. "but you're drunk, sweetheart." he hands the pills to spencer and then the water, and once spencer takes them, haddy nudges him in the direction of his bed.
"i don't have to be sober," spencer objects, and haddy ignores him. luckily, spencer drops it and swallows the pills, not putting up too much of a fight when haddy helps him change into pajamas.
when haddy climbs in on the other side, spencer presses in close, one of his hands drifting along haddy's hip before settling over haddy's waist instead. "hey," haddy says, once spencer's gotten comfortable. "happy birthday, spencer."
"very happy," spencer says, and presses his face into the crook of haddy's neck.