(AN: Okay like, the entire first half of this was written in the cramped backseat of a car next to my four-year-old brother's car seat while he slept on me in the ten hour drive from my house to Little Rock, Arkansas… until my laptop died.)
Just One Drink
[turntechGodhead began pestering ectioBiologist at 9:38 PM]
TG: Egbert
TG: yo ectobiatch
TG: john
TG: god fucking dammit john
EB: jesus dave, what?
TG: oh there you are
TG: hey you should come over
EB: why?
TG: bro went to some stupid smuppet thing and left the liquor cabinet open
EB: i don't drink dave
TG: come on dont leave me here alone
EB: ugh fine, but i'm not drinking
TG: we'll see
EB: i'll be over in like an hour
TG: kay
[ectoBiologist ceased pestering turntechGodhead at 9:45 PM]
You're name is John Egbert and your coolkid boyfriend just invited you over to his house, to drink, alone, on a Friday night. This will definitely be an experience, haha. You take a quick shower, eat a few crackers, and tell your dad you're going out. He's not too worried, you've never got into trouble before. Seventeen years old, never smoked, drank, virgin, the worst you've done is make out with Dave.
Before you know it, it's nearly 10:30 and you're making your way up to the 7th floor apartment of your incredibly handsome boyfriend. Halfway down the hall you hear the slightly too loud music – he's obviously already started this party train. You knock, and to no surprise are greeted with a slightly tipsy Strider.
"Hey Dave," You grin. You'd seen him drink before, and he was quite the happy drunk.
"Heyyyy John." His coolkid smile nowhere to be found. He stepped out of the door and let you in after greeting with a kiss. He tasted like alcohol.
You made your way into the small living room and plopped down on the futon. He was quickly beside you. "Why are you listening you the Pussy Cat Dolls, Dave?"
"I- I'm not!" He fumbles with the remote and the song changes. Then he stands up signaling you he'll be right back. A couple minutes later he's back holding a glass of something out to you. "Just one drink?"
You nervously bite your lip then nod, suppose one measly shot couldn't do any damage. Following Dave into the kitchen, you ask "Uhh, what do you have?"
"What like to drink?" You nod and he shrugs. "I looked a bit, some schnapps, some whiskey or some shit, a few kinds of vodka."
"What flavors?"
"Uhh, there was some vanilla, I think peach," He shrugs. "And strawberry, sneezed like crazy when I opened it." You stifle a giggle – Dave is VERY allergic to strawberries, it's ironic because those are your favorite food.
"Then I want that!" He sighs and pours you a shout of strawberry vodka. Smirking like an idiot, something's up. You hesitantly take the glass and down it. "BLUH! THAT'S DISGUSTING!"
"Then mix it with something idiot!" He's laughing, that laugh he only does when he's had a little. "I have some sprite in the fridge." He get's a two-litre of sprite out of the refrigerator and hands it to you. You, of course, have no idea what you're doing, pour half a cup of vodka and half sprite. "Holy fuck, Egbert!"
"What?" You sip your concoction, holy fuck that's good. Dave signals you he'll be right back, again, and makes his way to the bathroom. Within a matter of seconds you've downed your drink and you're pouring another – too bad you have no idea what lightweight means.
By the time Dave comes back, you've practically inhaled the entirety of the second glass. He doesn't notice at first until his eyes swing over to the nearly-half-empty bottle of vodka. "Holy- How much did you drink?"
You ponder the question for a second before replying, "How long were youuu in the bathroom?"
He laughs, his laugh sounds so much sexier now than it did a few minutes ago. "Long enough to take a leak and wash my face." He gestures to his slightly dampened bangs. "But you didn't answer my question."
You giggle a little and point to the bottle of strawberry vodka. Dave smirked a little and mumbled something you didn't try too hard to hear. You're really starting to feel the effects of your actions, and Dave was about to feel them too. Without thinking too hard about it, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him close to you.
"John what're you- Mmphhh." You slammed your lips against his, interrupting his silly questions. It takes it a second for it to click for him, but soon enough he's kissing back. Before you let go of his wrist, you nonchalantly guided his hand to your waist. Now you were wrapping your arms around his neck, and you could feel his face redden. He always got flushed when you kissed him like this.
Without warning he broke the kiss, "Hang on." He reached to the coffee table behind him for his drink. Downing it in a matter of seconds he returned his attention to you, you stumbled backwards onto the futon dragging Dave with you.
"Hello, Mr. Strider." You smirk – quite possibly the dorkiest looking smirk in history.
He didn't reply with words, just kissed you again. And again. And one more time. You entangled your fingers in his hair, something only you know to be his weakness. He was quick to divert you, much to your disliking, he pulled you up off the couch.
"Dance with me." He spun you in a circle so that you were practically chest to chest. You giggled and humored him with a quick didn't-fit-the-music Waltz before tripping backwards and landing plum on your ass in the doorway of the kitchen. Dave reached his hand down to help you up, but you dragged him to the floor with you. In your drunken state of mind there was only one thing you wanted – to kiss the attractive blonde boy again. You pulled him into another kiss, and he didn't stop you.
Acting mainly on lust you slowly pull Strider's shirt up over his head, with no objections. Only breaking the kiss for short breaths of air. Until, however, Dave broke it to talk. "John." You kissed him. "John, you're drunk."
"So?" You kiss him again.
"John, you're really drunk." Now you were getting impatient, longing for the taste of cinnamon and the hint of alcohol on his breath. You sit up for a moment, causing him to lean back. Smirking, you put your right hand on his chest and push him back. He's completely caught off guard – perfect. Right hand on his chest, left hand beside his ear, you straddle his stomach and lean in for another kiss.
He doesn't fight it; in fact he seems to love it as much as you. His hands find their way to your hips and then up under your shirt – one on your stomach, one on your back. He smells so wonderful, like cinnamon – intoxicating. This was by far the most wonderful kiss ever-
"Hey, Bro I'm ho-" Oh shit, Dave's brother. You weren't thinking straight, you didn't stop kissing Dave when bro walked in. "Dave? John?" Still didn't stop. A few seconds later you feel a hand around your upper arm, jerking you out of the kiss. "What the hell is going on here?"
"B-Bro?"
"No shit Dave, what the fuck?" He glanced around the room, obviously taking note of the alcohol. "I leave for two hours and you get Egbert drunk?"
"I- No- It's not what it looks like." Dave obviously needs some saving, and you figure your drunk ass is qualified enough to do so.
"It's nooot his fault." You slur out. "Was allll my fault – errr idea."
Bro frowned and Dave looked at you and mouthed "What are you doing?"
"Shooosh," You grin. "I got this."
"You expect me to believe the derpy kid goodie-two shoes came over to my house to get my little brother drunk and then make out with him on the floor?" He frowned. "The amount of holes-"
You cut him off by poking him in the chest, oh God, what're you doing? "Now, youuu listen here," You start, still not thinking clearly. "Dave is not a baby; in fact he is far from it. He is seventeen years old and if he wants to make out with his boyfriend on a Friday night then SO BE IT!"
Dave facepalmed. Bro on the other hand looked pretty shocked, "Excuse me? I never had a problem with you and Dave kissing, it's the coming home to two drunk teenage boys making out on my kitchen floor – not exactly welcoming."
You rolled your eyes, "Sheesh, and I thought you used to be cool! Hah!"
"John, I think you should leave."
You smirked, "Fine, whatever, but.." You spun on your heel and grabbed Dave's wrist. You pulled him into a kiss and put your hands on his shoulders. He tried not to kiss back, but gave in. Seconds later, you were once again pulled away from kissing him.
"Leave." Bro grimaced. So you did, casually walked out into the hallway, down the hall, to the elevator. Dave was behind you, telling you to wait, but the elevator shut before he could stop you. Now where were you going?
Somehow you managed to conclude you needed a candy bar, so you pulled into a 24 hour gas station, got out of your blue Grand-Am (leaving the door open – phone, wallet, and keys in car), and stumbled into the gas station.
"John?" Now who was bothering you? "John, what the fuck?"
"Hi Katkar, err, Kartkit.. Karkles!"
"John are you okay?" He examines you. "Are you… drunk? Oh my God, John have you been drinking?" You shook your head as he walked to you. "You smell like it!" You shrug. "Wait, did you drive here?" You nod. "Oh no, fuck no, you're coming with me." He grabs your hand and drags you to the checkout counter to pay for his things. He then leads you to his car, completely ignoring yours – door open and all. The engine starts and Karkat pulls away from the gas station.
Not that you were aware of it, but a certain blonde coolkid pulled into the same stations about three minutes later. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck no." He ran up to your car. "Shit John." With a few short strides he was inside the store. "Ma'am. Ma'am." Impatient. "Hey lady!"
She popped a loud annoying bubble. "What kid?"
"Have you seen a nerdy lookin' black haired kid about my age in here? He's really drunk."
"Pull up in that blue car?" Dave nodded. "He left with some brunette in a grey sweatshirt." She popped another bubbled.
"Shit!" Dave ran out.
Now back to more important things, Karkat flipped through his house keys and unlocked the door. "There you go." You wobble your way up his porch and into the kitchen. He's right behind you. "What happened John?"
You shrug. "I've neverrrr had alcohol before."
"Luck you, I found you."
And now you were inexplicably smirking. "More like lucky you."
"Uhh yeah su-" You cut him off, crashing your lips against his. Oh God, Egbert what are you doing. You haven't kissed Karkat in nearly two years. You're drunk, you're not thinking right.
There's footsteps on the porch, "Karkat have you seen Joh-" It was Dave. He was looking for you. And, oh boy, did he find you, mackin' on your ex-boyfriend at two in the morning – drunk. This was technically all his fault…
Your name is John Egbert and you have some explaining to do.
(AN: Not sure if want dramastuck, or is this the ending? Tell me, kay?)