It had been a long Friday, and while Cole was initially opposed to drinking, he went along with Stefan anyway

under the promise that it would be good for male bonding - they wouldn't get that drunk.

Of course, it was a lie.

Stefan had to get buzzed, he had to, he couldn't bear to listen to his partner's poetic ramblings about life while

sober; it was too…Melancholic, yeah, that would probably be something Cole would say.

After awhile, the Pole couldn't really tell the words apart anymore, he was warm, sleepy, and dazed with the alcohol

pumping in his brain.

He realized then that Cole had a really nice voice.

Usually, it came out as soft mumbling, but when drunk, and feeling more brave to speak up, the blonde had a much

clearer accent and it sounded very gentle and proper.

Stefan watched Cole intently, wondering how such a nice, smart guy like him ended up as a police officer.

He could've been a teacher, or something.

Cole never belonged in the LAPD, Stefan always believed that, he shouldn't have had to see the murky underside of

sweet, sweet Los Angeles.

He saw what it did to Cole, and he wished he could take it all back.

Part of him wished that they had met under different circumstances, something a little more normal…

Stefan would deny it to hell and back that he wasn't completely straight.

When he first met Cole, he saw him as the stuffy new boy, the bible thumper of Central; the hopeless optimist.

And somehow he was finding himself more and more attracted to those traits.

Those thin pink lips were beckoning him, and he answered the call; gingerly cupping the older man's chin and

sealing their lips together.

They were warm, but unresponsive…

He was glad the whisky was present to help dull the ache in his chest.

"You know, Cole, it's really too bad you're married…" he murmured as he pulled away, taking another sip from his

glass, "It could be fun, us, it'd be different than what you'd get from wifey."

Cole, on the other hand, was stunned when their lips had made contact, touching his fingertips to them as his mind

struggled to process that split-moment decision on Bekowsky's part.

What…?

Was that normal?

What did he say about his wife?

Cole's instincts bounced into a defensive state, interpreting the comment as a threat against his marriage, his eyes

narrowing at the other man.

His marriage wasn't perfect, he may not have been happy, but…It's what men do. It was the right thing to do,

wasn't it?

How dare that bastard try to smear what he had worked so hard to build.

A crack resounded in the bar as Cole's fist made contact with Stefan's face, leaving a red mark on his cheek as he

fell from the stool onto the floor.

Stefan had blacked out for a few minutes, waking up sober enough to mumble that they should go home.

They walked a few miles to Cole's and he left his partner in Marie's care before stumbling home himself.

The next day, with the mark growing purple, Cole's eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he asked what had

happened. He didn't remember.

Of course not, the silly lightweight.

Stefan only laughed and made a joke of it, all was forgiven.

But not forgotten.

And that was why they never went out for drinks again.

+ . + . + . + . + . + . + . + .

I wrote this quick drabble earlier this morning when someone sent me a prompt (The things you said while drunk).

I figured I'd post this here as well so you all could have a chance to read it, too!

I hope it doesn't seem too sloppy or lazy, I was trying to get into Stefan's head in that drunken state and write the

narrative based on his condition.

I remembered a piece of dialogue between Cole and Stefan during The Consul's Car case, when they're both talking

about Valdez, and Stefan makes a jab about how Cole isn't invited out for drinks with the rest of the LAPD.

I'm sure it has to do with Cole being rather stiff and to-the-book, which might make him a bit of a killjoy.

But, I decided to take that and put a different spin on it.

The title itself was an accident, kind of a pun on how someone might take something following a drink.

(Har har, I know)

I hope to write another piece or two before the convention comes up, but we'll see.

Until next time!

Lin