So this was supposed to be a Christmas present. Guess who failed at that? I did! So forgive me Annalise, but hey it was only 50 some days late ...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters in this, nor the right to call the Catnip Tequila my own [Property of Madeleine-Elizabeth from dA]. I do however totally own the bikini. If only my sewing was better than it is.
What is Odin's name was he thinking? In all honesty I had no clue. At first I thought Zack was just being … Zack. You know, acting like a total ass since it was Christmas and all. However, between chugging a few bottles of catnip tequila and giggling like a high school girl, I suspected his mind was disintegrating into a puddle of muck.
He was normal, around dinner time. He had set up a candlelit dinner for two, with a pleasant melody playing softly in the background, dessert for every sweet tooth my mouth possessed. Handsomely dressed, and waiting over my every beck and call. I needed more wine? He poured it for me. Dropped my fork? He would exert himself to grab me another. No complaints, no sarcastic remarks. It was like he wasn't himself, but that was fine by me. There must be one day a year when Zack would calm the hell down and think about someone other than himself.
He had poured himself a glass of Catnip Tequila, and told me his stomach felt like it was a ball of flames. Instead of putting it down and reaching for something less strong he emptied the glass and got himself more … and more. Only stopping when I snatched the bottle away from him.
"Don't be like that Cloudy," He slurred. The alcohol already frying the lack of brain cells he had to begin with.
I sighed and put the bottle down. There went our perfect Christmas Eve together. Down the drain and into the black hole also known as Zack's stomach.
"Zack, let's just sit down and watch a movie or something." I tried to negotiate. Perhaps a romantic comedy would sober him up.
The brunet chuckled, but plopped beside me onto our dark blue sofa. He rested his head against my shoulder, nuzzling my bicep.
"Mmm. You know, you smell good," he muttered. "Like fruit salad." I sniffed the arm that wasn't anchored down by his's head. I smelt like apples and bananas. Probably thanks to that Fruit Smoothie soap I found under the sink.
I turned on the movie and nestled into the back of the couch. I felt like I was 10 again, watching the Beauty and the Beast, but it was either Disney or Girls Gone Wild, and I preferred my Christmas to be porn-free.
To add to the experience, all through the picture Zack would either giggle during the most random scenes or tear up because "Gaston is such a douche cannon. Can't he see she's in love?" I stopped paying attention to the movie halfway in. The distraction being the finger running along my arm. I looked down to see a sleeping face.
When Zack wasn't dragging me this way and that, he looked rather cute. Scratch that, he always looked cute, with his ebony hair poking out in a similar fashion to mine only longer, and his mako infused eyes would reflect my own. Not to mention that dorky smile he always had plastered to his face. But aside from that, Zack looked far more adorable when he was sleeping.
Even in his sleep, he seemed to gravitate towards me. Whether it be trailing his bony fingers along my arm, sometimes back, or nuzzling into the crevice of my neck. It made me wonder sometimes what he dreamt about. Sometimes.
"Mmm … Don't touch .. You naugh-" Zack giggled in his sleep. I rolled my eyes. Here I was trying to watch a child's movie with my arm going numb, and he was having a dirty dream. Our first Christmas Eve together wasn't what I had envisioned, but I guess I couldn't complain. As sappy as it may sound, at least he tried to make an effort.
I sighed and tried to shift Zack over, so I could reach the remote sandwiched between my ass and the cushion. I didn't move him an inch before he rocketed off the couch and glanced around like he was lost.
"Is there a problem, Zack?" I asked.
He scratched his head like he didn't know where the hell he was. "I don't feel so good." It sounded like a question. Like he didn't know if that was really the problem.
Before I could offer him anything, he dashed off towards the bathroom, or so I hoped. I heard the slam of the door and massaged my temples from the tension. This was supposed to be a romantic evening. Fine cuisine, fine clothing, (even finer Zack), but instead I received a drunken puppy for Christmas.
I sat on the couch for a while. My body sunk into the cushions like they were eating me. After a few minutes of waiting for him to return, I began to worry. What if he fell in? Drowning in his own bodily fluids, head swimming in the toilet bowl. Or maybe he tripped and passed out in the bathtub. My motherly side of me took over as I made my way down the maroon walled hallway.
My feet shuffled across the carpet until I stopped outside the bathroom door. I rose my hand and knocked twice, clearly.
"Zack, you okay in there?" I asked, in a caring tone. No response. My heart rate sped up just a tad. Maybe he really did fall in. I knocked again, and once more not even a shuffle was heard behind the wooden barricade. "I'm coming in." I warned before turning the cool metal handle. I swung the door open only to reveal a deserted chamber. No mess, no dead body …. No shower curtain.
I quirked an eyebrow at the mere thought of where that went. I quickly exited the room in favour of the only place Zack could have stumbled off to. Not even bothering to knock, I flung open his bedroom door, wishing I hadn't.
The brunet make a girlish shriek before covering up his nude body with what I presume was the chocolate coloured curtain that went missing. I took a step back behind the door frame and tried to catch my breath, as well as collect my thoughts.
What the hell was Zack doing? Sure he was eccentric at times, but this was far too much. The image of his tanned legs seared into my mind. It wasn't like I hadn't seen his body before, because you know, I have. Perhaps not completely, but to the extent where I could guess the size ... not that I cared. Because you know, I don't. I did however, care about the firmness of his behind I caught a glimpse of. Even when running all those training sessions at the beach, never have I seen what laid beyond his navy blue swim trunks. They were perfectly chiseled, though his a bit less tanned than his limbs, probably due to the fact that he rarely went streaking, I hoped.
While my mind boggled around indecent thoughts, and my once ebony cheeks flushed a rose, the protagonist of my thoughts stepped out of his room. On his head he donned a red festive hat equipped with white trim and a pom pom. The rest of his attractive body (not that I anticipated it) was wrapped in the brown shower curtain, naturally. He leaned against the door frame seductively. Or it would have been seductive if he didn't trip over the corner of the plastic sheet and slammed himself against the frame in his drunken state.
"Heee~y Cloudy," Zack sang, slowly rolling the screen off his shoulders. They too were tan and smooth. "Have you need a good boy this year?"
Before I could retort, the brunet returned to his strip tease. It wasn't much of a tease, because in his attempt to make it as slow as possible, fingers untangled from the plastic and the sheet fell to the floor to leave Zack's body exposed. I don't know what my first reaction, relief at the fact that he wasn't completely naked (though I wouldn't have minded if he was aware of his surroundings) or scarred for life?
On his well defined body lay the most visually scarring attire I had ever laid eyes on. I loved Zack, clearly if I was willing to put up with this shit I must, but really? Would I ever take him seriously again, after seeing this? Probably not. But that wasn't the problem. The problem clearly was the handful of candy-apple coloured fabric wrapped around his chest and nether regions. The top consisted of half-sized cups that covered his pecs. The rim of them were decorated with white fluffy trim, like Santa, only in bikini form. Certainly not what I expected Zack to wear, drunk or not. The cherry-bloosom red bottoms weren't exactly manly either, barely covering his groin. The white trim puffed around the top and pom poms dangled from the hips.
"Care to open your package?" At this he trailed his hand down his chest and lightly teased the pom pom on his left hip, taunting me.
I knew I shouldn't have given in. I knew this, I definitely was aware of the fact that taking advantage of a sex fiend while in the grasp of Catnip Tequila was not the way it should go down. Don't go lecturing me. But even in my scarred state I could not refuse that man. With his blue eyes reflecting my intoxicated own. I grabbed Zack's arm and pulled him over to his bed and flopped him onto the indigo comforter, vowing that next time I'd hit the alcohol first as retaliation, and commenced the ravaging.
A/N: And so I realize it's late but I actually did my homework for once. God I hate Grade 12. TECHNICALLY IT'S STILL VALENTINE'S DAY TO NYAH~
P.S. I ended up not editing this, I'm tired and really want to take a shower. I'll do it later. Promise. Eventually.
Happy Venereal Disease Day to you. :D