We were drunk

Story Title:

One Night Stand

Disclaimer: nope, they're not mine.

Author:

Brokie

Author's Note: Like I said in the summary, it's.. well, let's just say that it's probably not who you think (or wish) it is. I'll leave it at that. I'll probably be putting up a new chapter for this pretty soon, as long as everyone doesn't hate it. Oh, and the chapter titles are gonna be weird, but once you read it you'll understand. :-)

Chapter Title:

Dental Hygiene and Regrets

Chapter Rating:

PG-13; naughty language, descriptions of naughty things

Chapter Description: It's the morning after, and Roger awakens to discover that he's made a very big mistake.

*Please Read This* -- I recently posted a fic entitled "Something Like Human." As of right now, I have only gotten one review for it. I would really appreciate it if some kind-hearted person might take a few minutes to R&R it. Thanks.

»Roger«

We were drunk. It wasn't supposed to happen, it was one of those things that you know beforehand and afterwards is wrong, but at the time I guess we were so wasted we didn't even care. I didn't think about how Mimi and I weren't really separated, just fighting like we always seemed to be. I didn't realize that I could be ruining everything, that after this our inevitable reconciliation couldn't happen—not if I told her, not if she knew what I had done. It was a stupid, stupid mistake that I can't fix. And I did ruin everything. I'm going to tell her, because she deserves at least that, after all the times I've accused her of doing exactly what I did last night.

I haven't tried to open my eyes yet. I'm not even sure I can.. and my head feels like it's being slowly crushed into nothingness. Someone please remind me, why did I feel the need to drown in beer and sadness last night? Of course I should know the answer, but right now it hurts to concentrate on much of anything so I won't even bother. I'll just lay here and think about how I've fucked things up yet again.. probably for the last time, too. There isn't a way to get out of this or repair the damage I've done in a matter of hours and a few too many drinks.

And I haven't even started to think about what will be going through his head when he wakes up. Yes, he. Shit. That makes it even worse, that I'm afraid he'll go through hell when he realizes who's laying next to him. It won't just be that it's me, it will be that it's anyone at all.

Suddenly a familiar feeling sweeps over me, and I scramble out of bed, thankful that I'm at least wearing boxers. I move as fast as I can—in this state, at least—to the bathroom and empty my stomach until there's nothing left. Alright, Captain Crunch definitely doesn't taste the same coming back up. Ah, the wonders of drinking.. forgetting your problems for awhile only to have them brought back twice as painful mere hours later. Last night, I was drinking so I wouldn't have to think of the screaming match I had with Mimi yesterday afternoon. Today, I have to think about it again, and I also am just beginning to realize how screwed I am; we'll fight again when I tell her, and getting back together will no doubt be close to impossible.

And then we have the little problem of the man who's laying in my bed right now.. I wander back into the bedroom and over to him, looking down and studying him intently. He looks so peaceful, content, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and for a second I forget how he got into this bed and what that means. He hardly ever looks happy anymore.. Right now I can tell that if he's dreaming, it's not about everything he's lost and how alone I know he must feel sometimes. He's dreaming about how things used to be, just like I wish I could.

I make my way back to the other side of the bed and sit down, careful not to disturb him. I try to put happy images in my mind, but it doesn't seem to be working. I try to push everything out of my head, but I can't get over the fact that I single-handedly destroyed my relationship with Mimi.

He rolls over and I turn toward him, hear him mumble something incoherently, see his eyes slowly flutter open. My breath catches momentarily and I curse myself, wondering when I started lusting after guys.. when I started lusting after him, for fuck's sake. I don't have time to think anymore, because he's staring up at me and it looks like it's starting to register.

"R-Roger?" he asks in a voice far too low and husky for my liking. "Why are you—what happened?"

"I, uh.." I pause and clear my throat. "We—fuck, this is.. we got drunk. Really drunk. And we.."

I trail off, and he looks at me, the realization hitting him just as hard as it did me. His eyes take in my barely clothed body and he winces.

"Shit."

"Yeah. Fuck, I don't even remember how we got back here.." I muse softly.

"We took a cab. I think you said I could stay here and then we, um.."

"Fell into bed together by accident?" I inquire hopefully. He shakes his head. I sigh. "We had sex, didn't we."

He nods and then his face starts to turn an interesting shade of pale green.. he launches himself onto his feet and into the bathroom. I follow him and rub his back comfortingly as he copies my actions from moments earlier. When he's done, he slumps down and flushes the toilet, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

"I didn't know I was that repulsive," I joke halfheartedly. He looks at me for a second and then his face breaks into a soft smile.

"You're not, I just.. god, how much did we have to drink last night?"

"Too much?"

"Yeah.." he sighs, then looks at me, concerned. "What're you gonna do about Mimi?"

I rub my eyes and run my fingers through my tangled hair. "I don't know. I guess I'm gonna tell her, for starters."

His eyes widen. "But—"

"I know. But she deserves the truth. And if that means it's over, well then I guess I really fucked up this time, huh?"

He bites his lip and shrugs. "Well, the way I remember, it was only about half your fault."

"Half my fault.. well, that makes me feel so much better," I say sarcastically, giving him an awkward smile to show I'm not really mad at him.

"How much do you remember?" he asks softly, crawling over to sit next to me by the bathtub.

"I remember bits and pieces. I remember the bartender calling us a cab because we could barely stand up. Then we somehow got back here, and then.. I-I remember kissing you. A lot. And—" I break off, my face flushing as I realize just what else we did.

"You don't have to say it if you don't want to," he assures me. "I, um, probably remember it anyway.."

I look up at him. "I gave you a blow job," I whisper. "And then we had sex."

I swear under my breath. "Why do I always mess everything up?"

He doesn't answer, just puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, both of us oblivious to the fact that we're both still clad in only our boxers. After a few seconds, he clears his throat softly.

"If it's any consolation," he tells me, sounding very serious, "it was a pretty good blow job."

For some reason, at that moment, my head decides that this is the funniest thing I have ever heard. I crack up and bury my face in my hands, laughing uncontrollably. He soon joins in, probably more from watching me try to breathe through my laughter than from thinking what he said was quite as funny as I do. When we finally stop, I lay my head on his shoulder without thinking, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"This feels nice," I murmur. "It shouldn't, though. I should be worrying about what's going to happen between me and Mimi, not thinking about—about how nice it would be if this actually meant something."

He's silent for a few seconds before he responds. "You want this to mean something?"

I look down and pull at a lose thread on my boxers. "I don't know.. do you? I mean, do you regret what we did?"

"Well.. at Life Support, we always say 'forget regret, or life is yours to miss.' I guess I do regret some things.. I regret that we were too drunk to realize what we were doing. I regret that if you tell Mimi it will probably ruin your relationship. But.. I don't know, if you're talking about Angel, then I think she would want me to move on. Maybe not by getting drunk and sleeping with you, but I think you know what I mean."

"Yeah," I reply with a small smile, raising my head to look up at him and not realizing—or caring—how close our faces are. "Collins, what am I going to do?"

"Well, for starters, you could try brushing your teeth," he replies matter-of-factly, smirking down at me. He quickly turns serious, though, and I bite my lip as he gives me his advice. "Then you can take a shower, take some Advil, and wait until you see Mimi. Or you could go find her. And then you tell her and see how it goes."

I nod. "Okay. How do you think she'll take it?"

He sighs. "It depends. If she's gotten over the fight you had yesterday and at least forgiven you for that, then luck might be on your side. If she hasn't gotten over it.. then I hate to say it, Roger, but you are in deep shit."

I frown at his bluntness, but I know he's right. I glance at the clock on the counter by the sink—it's 12:30 already. He follows my gaze and as we climb to our feet at the same time, I find myself wishing his arm wouldn't slip off my shoulders like it's doing right now. I turn toward him, smiling and trying to look brave. He gives me a look that says 'I see straight through you, Davis, and you are scared out of your mind.'

"I am not scared!" I protest to his wordless accusation.

He gives me a knowing smirk in return. "Sure you aren't, Roger."

"Fine, maybe I'm a little nervous," I mutter. He raises an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm more than a little nervous. Are you happy now? You just made me admit my feelings! I'm supposed to be all.. masculine, and—and pissed off!"

His lips are closed tightly over his mouth, but his eyes are laughing at me. When the urge to laugh in my face passes, he gives me this response: "Collins, what am I going to do?" Said in a very accurate imitation of my voice, I might add, accompanied by some overacting worthy of a soap opera.

"Shut up!" I laugh, my face turning a little red. The room is quiet for a few seconds and I turn serious again. "Thank you, Collins."

I pull him into an impulsive hug, which he returns, but as he pulls away he asks me what I'm thanking him for.

"For helping me figure out what to do about Mimi. For not freaking out. For giving me your ever-so-valuable dental hygiene advice.."

He grins. "You're welcome, Rog."

I smile back, staring into his eyes for a little too long and blushing when I realize it. I clear my throat to break the silence. "So.. are you gonna stay here, or go home? I'm gonna take a shower, but you can have some breakfast if you want.. if there's anything in the kitchen, that is."

"Actually, I should probably be heading home," he says, sounding uncomfortable. I glance at him questioningly, asking for a reason why. "I, um.. left the curling iron on?"

I chuckle. "S'okay if you wanna leave, you probably wouldn't feel comfortable if Mimi dropped by or something."

"Yeah."

"So, I'll probably see you tomorrow sometime, right?"

"Yep. Bye then," Collins says, looking unsure as to whether or not he really wants to leave.

"Yeah.. bye," I answer, feeling the exact same way.

He heads into the bedroom to get his clothes, and I hurry after him.

"Collins, wait.. um, I was just thinking, I don't think Mimi will probably come back until at least tonight, so you could stay.. if you want to that is."

I stare at the ground, wondering why I feel like my very existence hinges on his answer.

"Sure. I-yeah, I'll stay. I don't have anything important to do today, anyway."

"Okay," I say, feeling awkward once again. "Well.. I'm gonna go take a shower, so you can get some breakfast—er, lunch I guess—or whatever."

He nods and starts to pull on his jeans. It's not an unfamiliar sight—when all five of us used to live here there were people wandering around half-clothed all the time, and we shared bedrooms so it wasn't new to see someone getting dressed. But suddenly, the image is just too.. sexual. Him putting his clothes back on only reminds me of why—and how—they came off. Which, I realize, is not exactly a bad thing to be reminded of, but I feel way too guilty as it is so I definitely don't want to go fantasizing about my best friend when I'm still with Mimi. And I'm not even sure if I want to be with her anymore and I'm so confused and I just realized that I haven't moved from where I was standing in my room and Collins is looking at me with a curious expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

"No, I was just.. thinking. I'd better go shower now," I say, leaving the room quickly. I shut the bathroom door, pull off my boxers, and step under the water with a sigh. I keep trying not to think about the mess I have made, but whenever I succeed in doing so, the only other thing that will pop into my head is image after image of Collins. Mostly images that, coupled with the hot water, are having.. quite an effect on me, shall we say.

My hand starts to stray downward of its own accord, but then I hear Collins walk past the door and I realize that the last thing I want him to hear is me moaning his name like I probably was last—shit. I just had to go and remind myself.. I sigh and grab the soap, deciding that it would be in my best interest to finish my shower as quickly as possible.

I'll continue if you want me to.. but seriously, was that too weird? It's different than most of the other stuff I've written.. a whole hell of a lot less angsty, for one thing. I seriously don't know how I managed to write a Roger/Collins fic, but.. yeah. Please review.