A/N: Welcome to Chapter 4 of Reality Check! Prompt #4: "We both have friends who party too hard and we keep running into each other in the bathroom while we hold their hair back."

TW: Alcohol, Vomit, Body Fluids and Bathroom Stuff

"Matsuda, for fuck's sake!" Mello groaned, yanking the older man by the tie. "No. No. No, if you're gonna puke, get to the bathroom right now!"

The pair stumbled into the bar's greasy restroom, which already smelt of puke and piss and excrement and smoked substances. Judging by the disabled smoke detector and the used condom in the trash bin, the men's restroom was a free-for-all for all sorts of mischief.

Mello shoved Matsuda into the nearest vacant stall, moving his friend's black bangs out of the way before a torrent of colorful liquid spewed into the toilet. Mello gagged, looking anywhere in the world except the porcelain bowl. When the sticky sweet acrid smell hit his nose, Mello had to leave the stall or else he would be next. He stood at the sink, turning on the tap to splash cool water on his face. The bar was hot, not just from the mass of bodies on the dance floor, but also due to the lack of air conditioning and the uselessness of five slow ceiling fans above. He wished he hadn't worn all leather for once.

"Move!" Somebody yelled from the left. Mello scooted out of the way just in time for a brown-haired boy to half-stumble, half-crawl into the stall beside Matsuda. A red-haired boy in a striped shirt - the one who had yelled - patted the man's back soothingly as the young man retched into the commode.

"It's okay, Light," the red-haired man said chipperly. "It happens to all of us, buddy. It's happened to me, and it's happening to the guy beside us, and... Hey, blondie!"

Mello blinked.

"Me?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah!" The man said. "It's happened to you, too, right? You have one too many drinks, and all of a sudden..."

Light, as the brown-haired man was called, started vomiting again.

"...Yeah, that happens!" The man grinned, shrugging. "It happens to everyone. See, Light? Everyone. You're okay, buddy. You're gonna be okay."

"Matsuda, are you almost done?" Mello asked, peeking in on his friend. Matsuda lay curled around the base of the toilet, his right shoe sticking to something Mello couldn't recognize and frankly didn't want to think about. "Hey, get up. Drink water."

Mello helped Matsuda to his feet and steered him to the sink. After a few deep gulps of water, Matsuda seemed to come back to life.

"Gee, Mello, I didn't... I don't know what came over me..." Matsuda pouted nervously. "I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

"It's fine, it's fine," Mello chuckled. "Just, no more pink drinks. Deal?"

"Deal!" Matsuda saluted. "Let's go back to the dance floor!"

"All right," Mello grinned. He nodded to the man in the striped shirt. "Good luck with your friend."

"Thanks," the man laughed. "Have fun out there!"

Less than thirty minutes later, Mello found himself back in the men's lavatory, holding back Matsuda's hair. This time, straight whiskey soured the air around him. Mello had a strong stomach, but this was almost getting to be too much.

"Matsuda, I think you've had enough, pal," Mello said.

"I'm sorry!" Matsuda whined, gagging again. Mello cringed, ducking out of the stall.

"Uh huh. It's fine, just... if someone dares you to do six shots, just tell them to fuck off or something. You don't have the stomach for it, man."

"I'm sorry, Mello!" Matsuda said between gasps. "I just wanted to drink like you do!"

"I get that, Matsu," Mello said gently, not wanting a repeat of last time he chastised Matsuda while drunk. The man had cried big crocodile tears until everyone in the bar was staring. He absolutely did not want Matsuda to do that again. "Look, Matsuda, I've been partying for a long time. Even I have my limits, though."

"Really?" Matsuda looked over his shoulder, a string of drool hanging from his chin.

"Really," Mello forced a stiff smile. "Once you learn your own limits, you'll be able to have more fun. You party right up until you hit your limit, then you stop."

"Okay, Mello," Matsuda nodded sagely, drool sticking to the collar of his shirt. "I'll do that next time. Thank you, Mello! I'm sorry, Mello!"

"So, I guess you're called Mello, huh?" A voice said. Mello looked up, nearly colliding with the red-haired man from before. His brunette friend with the khaki trousers slipped into the toilet stall, slamming and locking the door behind him. Some terribly unflattering sounds emerged from the stall, making Mello and the red-haired man cringe simultaneously.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Mello shook his head. "Yeah. I'm Mello. And you are?"

"Matt. And that charming fellow," Matt gestured at the locked door, laughing, "is my college roommate, Light. This is the first time I've dragged him out on the town. He's used to kegger frat parties, but apparently he can't handle himself with real liquor. How's your friend?"

"Matsuda is..." Mello shrugged, pointing to the slightly ajar stall door, where Matsuda gave a weak wave as he crouched in front of the toilet bowl. "Well, it's Matsuda. He's my coworker."

"Relaxing after a hard week at the office?" Matt smirked.

"As if," Mello rolled his eyes. "We work construction. I didn't get these muscles pushing pencils."

Mello felt the redhead's eyes traveling down his toned body. For the first time that night, he was glad he chose the skin-hugging leather vest and tight leather pants. For a college boy, Matt was fairly attractive. Plus, Mello thought, he had a nice laugh.

"How come I've never seen you here before?" Mello asked.

"Hm? Oh! Right. I usually come on student night," Matt explained. "It's the only excuse I have for getting drunk on a Tuesday. Do you come here a lot on the weekends?"

"Sometimes," Mello said. "Usually Saturdays. Maybe I'll see you around more often?"

"Maybe... but next time, without our comrades?" Matt laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Mello swallowed thickly, because oh god, the guy had bright green eyes and adorable freckles and Mello could easily ignore the sights, sounds, and smells of the restroom as long as Matt was there. Maybe it was the liquor, or the dim lighting, or the fact that Matsuda was driving him bonkers, but Mello wanted nothing more than to get to know this oddly charming guy standing before him.

"Yeah. Without our buddies next time. Maybe, next Saturday? 10 PM?" Mello couldn't help but smile as Matt's face lit up.

"Perfect. It's a date. Oh god," Matt turned towards the locked door, banging his fist. "Light? Light? You aren't making any noise. Are you conscious? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"The door is locked, Jeevas. I can't see your fingers. Leave me alone; I'm taking a shit!" Light slurred, kicking one brown oxford off to scratch his socked foot with his opposite foot.

"Well, that's one way to make a good first impression," Matt muttered under his breath, turning back to Mello. "Still interested?"

"Mello, I wanna go home!" Matsuda called, stumbling out of the stall. He clung to Mello's arm, sticky fingers making Mello's skin crawl. "Mello, I wanna go home right now!"

"Definitely," Mello said, ignoring Matsuda for the moment. He flashed a toothy grin at the young man in the striped shirt. "Matt Jeevas, I will see you next Saturday at 10 PM. Don't be late. If you're late, you're buying us the first round of shots."

"You're on," Matt smirked. "Good luck getting him home."

"Mellooooo!" Matsuda whimpered, shaking Mello's arm.

"Thanks," Mello said, patting Matsuda on the head to appease him. "I'll need it."