Started: 24.05.13
Finished: 24.05.27
Words: 1,019
General, Sabriel (Implied)
Last night started out like any other: hitting a bar to blow off some steam, chatting up the redhead – nothing out of the ordinary. At least, not until she mentioned something about ‘living a little’ and ordering a round of Jell-O shots.
And then another.
And another.
And another.
Dean didn’t know what the hell the bar used – it tasted like straight gasoline mixed with that obviously fake strawberry flavour – but he got buzzed fast and reached hammered not too long after.
The rest of the night was a nauseating blurry flash of laughs, spilled drinks, a shared cab ride and then some R rated fun.
The blonde had awoke to a dark room, his pants dangling off the ceiling fan and his companion was nowhere in sight. The perfect time to sneak out without having to have that awkward morning-after talk.
The elevator bumped then, causing a new wave of nausea to hit the blonde, oh no… He caught himself with one hand against the wall and instinctively leaned over, don’t barf in the elevator…don’t barf in the elevator…
He barely heard the ding of the doors opening over the sound of his dry-heave.
Ugh.
“Um,” A man’s voice got his watery eyes off the floor. The short man looked as dishevelled as he felt, and flashed a fake polite smile, “Maybe I’ll wait for the next one.”
“No, no,” Dean straightened up and cleared his throat, moving to stand closer to the wall, “I’m not gonna puke.”
The stranger gave him a once over before hesitantly stepping into the car, “You’re lucky I’m too hungover for more stairs.”
Dean chuckled and backed up as the guy leaned over to hit the button, “Rough night?”
“Fun night. The guy I was with…”
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