R | I should have kept drinking, a coma can't be as bad as this hangover | J2
Title: I should have kept drinking, a coma can't be as bad as this hangover
Words: 4,200
Rating: Hard R
Summary: He’s pretty sure there are about ninety-nine other things that happened, and the fact that Chad - Chad - thought it was a stellar night, scares him all to hell.
Notes for queenklu's birthday!! She gave me a couple prompts and I wound up just scrambling through all of Texts From Last Night and incorporating ones that were particularly ridiculous.
Things Jensen remembers about his birthday
1. He turned thirty-two.
2. Jared took him out and there were a lot shots
3. Chad declared it “The Best Night Ever.”
4. He woke up with a condom in his hand, and his boxers dried to his skin.
5. There was videotape.
He’s pretty sure there are about ninety-nine other things that happened, and the fact that Chad - Chad - thought it was a stellar night, scares him all to hell.
The morning after, he spends a good deal of time - time not emptying everything in his stomach - searching the house for the video camera. In between that, he takes some Advil, drinks Gatorade, naps on the couch, watches an episode of Man vs. Food, throws up Gatorade, and cleans the bathroom. He fears staring at the moldy tub and random tracks of toothpaste in the sink and errant spittle on the mirror will cause him to vomit further. He survives. This time.
Despite how sweaty and greasy he feels, he can’t manage more than a second round on the couch, wisely avoiding any shows that deal with an overabundance of food. That’s when he spots it - sitting on the bartop counter, aimed into the kitchen: the camera. Jensen hooks it up to the TV and it starts with Chad shouting, “Bitches! Come on, gather ‘round. I have something to say!” There’s laughter and some mumbles, which Jensen thinks is him. “You know I don’t give a shit about this fucker,” Chad says with his arm tight around Jensen’s neck. “But it’s his fucking birthday, and we’re gonna do it up right. Right?!”
“What’re you doing?” Jared asks, suddenly in the room and wiping his eyes. He starts then eyes Jared staggering through the room and plopping down next to him on the couch, barely caring for Jensen’s feet on the next cushion.
“Where the hell you come from?”
“Your mom.” After Jensen’s snort, Jared coughs then sniffs and coughs again. “I woke up in your guest room. Fuck, what’d we do last night?” His sniffing sounds more wet this time and Jensen winces with him. “My nose alternately feels like it’s filled with marshmallow and glass.”
Jensen snorts again and shifts further into the cushions. “I was trying to review the evidence. Piece it all back together.”
“Shit, I don’t even remember my camera.”
“I remember a pit stop at your place. Veronica was there,” Jensen adds with a tiny smirk.
Jared tips his head back and smiles. “Shit, yes, Veronica. I saw her all over you.”
Jensen slides down, hand resting over his lower belly as he happily sighs. “Barely remember, but maybe it’s on tape.”
He pushes Jensen’s head over. “I can’t decide if I’m jealous or pissed at you.”
“You can be jealous. I accept it.”
*
The next scene from the tape shows Jared, Chad, Jensen, Mike, and a random smattering of people Jensen doesn’t know, but all seem to be with Chad. They’re marching down a busy street, trying to determine which place to stop at. A bouncer at Lucky Dice all but punches the camera away, fat hand covering the lens and forcing everyone from the front door.
But at Murphy’s, the camera chases anything with legs and a short skirt, and Chad’s murmurs accompany all the quick zooms and slow pans of each girl. Jared appears with a flat look while chomping down on gum. “You mind?” Chad asks with some heat.
“Do you?”
“What? I’m trying to tape everything, get the scenery. You know, for posterity.”
Jared looks between the camera and Chad, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t think that’s what you mean, but whatever. Stop taping chicks. Tape us, asshat.”
“What? And catch Jensen sipping his shot?” he asks as he swings the camera around the room to find Jensen tossing back two shots in quick succession. He wavers at the bar for just a few seconds, hands tight around the edge and then he smiles and waves for another shot. “Oh, fuck.”
The camera spins back to Jared, who starts laughing before pushing the camera back on Jensen. “Keep taping, dumbass.”
Chad points it back at Jared. “I am taping!”
“Tape someone other than me, God, what the fuck?” Jared sighs.
Chad moves just in time to catch Jensen lick salt off a random girl’s neck then dip into her cleavage to retrieve a shot and kick it back. He finishes it off with a long kiss, and pulls back with a lime-rind smile. Chad crows, “Fucker’s drinkin’ tonight!”
*
“Who was that?” Jensen asks, sitting forward and squinting at the screen.
“Who was who?”
He looks across the couch. “Do you remember her? Was she around all night?”
Jared sits up to inspect the screen. “I don’t think so … why?”
There’s the reflex to grab himself, to remember that he woke up with his boxers dried to his skin with come. He has to think for a few moments, considering that he might’ve come home and just gotten himself off, but there are tiny bits of memory that have him making out with someone against a brick wall - the soreness to his back confirms that - and searching for condoms in his room. “She just seems familiar,” he mumbles.
*
There are other girls. Ones that Chad dirty talks, ones that Mike convinces to all but flash the camera by claiming he’s a tattoo artist and he thinks an artfully designed tiger paw would be cool right there, and ones that Jensen does more shots with. He licks more necks than he probably has in his entire life.
In between the girls, there is a box race down a hill. Mike eggs them on, drags refrigerator boxes from the back of a family owned appliance store two streets over, and convinces Jensen - quite easily - to jump right in before he pushes it down the hill. Chad and another guy snag the other box and chase after him before both boxes tumble at the bottom and Jensen smoothly rolls over a few times then pops up to his legs with his arms high in the air while Chad and his buddy just wrestle over each other to get up.
There is also a stop at a liquor store so they can stock up on single serve bottles of tequila, vodka, and rum, all while they spend an inordinate amount of time bonding with the clerk behind the counter.“Have you ever had a birthday?” Chad asks, surprisingly coherent yet excessively loud.
There’s laughing, and people shoving the camera and Chad so the view of the middle-aged clerk is shaky. “Yes, of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Yes, but have you ever had one today?”
“No, my birthday is not today.”
Chad’s voice goes back to normal speaking levels and even sounds sad. “Dude, that sucks. If it was, I’d totally buy you a present.”
Mike jumps into view, slaps a tiny bottle of Captain Morgan on the counter along with two singles. “Here, dude, this is on us!”
Jared’s giggling from behind the camera, so is Jensen, then pretty much everyone else follows suit. Then Jared’s shoving Jensen into the frame and he tosses a five out while snatching a bottle of Cuervo from the small display case on the counter. “Here! It’s his birthday. Do a shot with him.”
“No, I’m sorry. I can ring you up but -”
“Yeah, yeah!” Jensen shouts. “Let’s do this.” He twists off the tops for both bottles and slides the rum across the way. “It’s my birthday. You have to do a birthday shot with me.”
Jensen raises the bottle to his mouth and waits for the clerk. He keeps an eye on the guy and keeps egging him on, until finally the clerk gulps it back. Jensen does, too, and the group chants a mixture of “Jensen!” and “Clerk! Clerk! Clerk!”
*
Jensen pauses the video and runs to the bathroom. Just the thought of all that tequila in his stomach has turned it over again and he’s now just throwing up water and bile, which tastes exactly like what the very bottom of one’s stomach should. Like acid and guts. Which only makes him heave more. He doesn’t get up right away, instead he kneels and admires the way his tile is clean for the first time in weeks.
Jared leans against the doorway and grins. “You missed the best part.”
“What’s that?” he grumbles between spitting into the toilet.
“You kissed the clerk. Tongue and all.”
Jensen looks up then turns and dry heaves. “I hate your guts.”
“Well, that might be because I still have mine.”
He rests his arms at the seat and then his head down on his wrists and Jared snorts. “Dude, I’m kidding. No tongue.”
“Please tell me the tape’s over.”
“Not by a long shot.” Jared laughs, “What? You done watching?”
“I just wanna find out who’s tongue was in my mouth last night.”
His laughing stops. “What?”
Jensen shifts to sit, back against the wall and arms over his bent knees. “I dunno, but I woke up with shit in my shorts.”
He stares. “You shit your pants?”
“No, I mean …” Jensen jerks his fist and then sighs with his head against the wall.
“Oh my God!” Jared nearly shouts. “You think Veronica?”
“I really fucking hope,” he sighs.
“Or one of the girls with the body shots?”
Jensen flicks his hands out and sighs. “I don’t know.”
*
The next girl Jensen does a shot with actually looks familiar. Jensen nails it with his voice loud in her ear and barely heard on the tape because of how much louder the music and other patrons are. “You work at the coffee shop on Main, right? I’m in there every weekend.”
“Oh yeah, yeah!” she yells back with a giant grin.
They keep talking, fast and animated, giant smiles a piece, and Chad focuses on them in between everything else. Like Jared fighting with Mike over whether Jensen really needs another shot.
“Cement mixer, c’mon!” Mike yells.
“No, dude, no. He’s gonna puke all over us.”
Mike laughs, “Kind of the point right?”
“Wow,” Chad’s voice comes on. “Even I don’t want Jensen to ralph on me. You’re a huge dick.”
“You can suck my huge dick,” Mike shoots back and pushes Chad away.
Chad pushes Mike, and it goes back and forth until Chad shoves the camera into Jared’s hands with a, “Watch me wail on this pussy.” As he swings at Mike, he shouts, “Better get this shit on tape!”
Jared laughs, keeping the camera on the headlock Chad successfully puts Mike in. “This your UFC audition tape?”
Chad turns to the camera, Mike’s head tight in his arm, and he’s grinning. “Watch this, fucker!”
That’s when Mike wraps arms around Chad’s waist and yanks him back so they both land on the ground. Then Mike spins over Chad, grabbing him in a full nelson, rolling them to their sides, and wrapping his legs around Chad’s to keep him immobile. “Who’s the fucker now?!” Mike laughs.
The camera’s jostled with more yelling, and security forces everyone out. They spill out to the street, laughing and play-fighting and boxing and landing a few shots, but nothing too much that they can’t take when this drunk.
Jared makes a little huh noise and the lens zooms into the alley then focuses; even in the dark it’s obvious that Jensen is pressing that girl against the brick wall, mouth fast and hands faster as they basically dry hump each other in the shady alley.
Chad whistles, but then curses as some beefy guy comes up and tugs Jensen off, forcing him hard into the wall. There’s a muffled, “with my fucking girl,” and Mike and a few of the others run off when other muscleheads join in on the fight of Jensen versus this girl’s boyfriend. Jared rushes forward, but stops when some of the beefy guys turn and glare at him. He raises the camera up and immediately apologizes.
It’s Chad who mutters, “Dude, fuck this,” and then tosses a half-filled beer bottle he’d walked out with it. It shatters on the wall above the crowd and Jensen slips away.
They book it down the street, yelling at each other to run faster, to turn this way and that. They shout about still being followed until they take enough corners and aren’t anymore. They slow their run, now jogging and finally just walking quickly, heaving the whole time and eventually breaking out in hysterics. Especially when they realize they’re just a few blocks from Jensen’s house and relatively safe.
“Please tell me you got beer? I did not just attempt to nail a guy with a bottle to save your bitch ass for you to not serve me more liquor,” Chad rattles off.
Jensen crowds Chad and gives him a hard, quick noogie. “You’re my hero!” he shouts in Chad’s ear.
Chad shoves him off. “Shit, all those chicks tonight and you find the one who’s married to the Terminator? You’re dumber than shit.”
Jared rings an arm around Jensen’s shoulders, tugging around his neck and laughing. “Dude’s fuckin’ brave.”
They laugh and playfight for the rest of the walk home, then they charge the last few houses when they spot the rest of Chad’s friends and Mike hanging on his front yard. Chad leaps onto Mike’s back. “You’re a big pussy. Running off!”
They’re fighting, but Chad never leaves Mike’s back, and Jensen leaps onto Jared’s back. Jared’s oomph is clear on the camera as it jostles around and then Jensen announces, “Chicken fight!”
Jared passes the camera to someone else and the four of them get down to business with Jensen and Chad perched on the others’ shoulders. They’re punching and swinging, even trying to kick at one another. The camera swings to a side window as someone fiddles with the lock and shoves it up. “Dude, yes! Get the beer!” another guy yells.
Jensen shrieks, “Dude! No!”
Chad slaps him high on his cheek. “You said more liquor!”
He slaps back, then the other cheek. “Don’t have to break into my house to get it, assholes!”
The front door opens and the guys spill back out, cans of beer tucked under arms to share and a couple bottles of liquor, too. Chad keeps swinging at Jensen to slap him again, going wide and sometimes low, nailing him in the throat. Once Jared and Mike let them down, Jensen tackles Chad to the ground and uses defensive moves to keep Chad from hitting him. They’re yelling at each other while the guys are yelling at them - both in trying to stop them and in egging it all on. Jared comes into view and douses them both with a bottle of vodka, the cold chill and sharp smell of it stopping them long enough that Mike and Jared can split them up.
Jared’s pushing Jensen away, arms over his shoulders then hands holding Jensen in place. “Dude, stop. Calm down.
The camera zooms in on Jensen, looking both pissed and guilty. “Fucker wouldn’t lay off.”
“Jen, calm down. C’mon,” Jared prods with a smoother voice. “I know he’s a bitch and he deserves it, but chill out, alright? It’s your birthday.”
Jensen sighs and his hands grip at Jared’s elbows as he looks even guiltier. “Alright, yeah. Sorry.”
Jared runs a hand over Jensen’s head and laughs. “Dude, I want you to have fun and fuck around, but don’t get too outta hand, alright?”
“Alright,” he says more forcefully yet while smiling. “I’m chilled.” Jared pulls away and Jensen yells, “Where’s my beer?!”
Soon enough, they’re breaking out cigarettes and even Chad’s got weed. He’s trying so hard to roll a joint and then light it. It flames up in his face and he drops it with a particularly girly wail. “God, you’re such a douche,” Mike laughs, pushing Chad out of the way. Then there’re a few sparks and the lawn lights up in a two-foot ball of fire. Everyone jumps back, shouting oh, shit and fuck and everything else. Jensen just stares in horror at the space where Jared had poured vodka over him and Chad, and basically soaked the lawn with flammable liquid. He points and yells, “Someone do something!”
Mike - literally - stops, drops, and rolls right over the fire as everyone else is screaming at him to get up and Jensen just covers his mouth in horror. Unbelievably, the fire is suffocated and Mike jumps back up while ignoring slight red marks across his arm that will likely burn like hell when he’s sober. “There! I fixed it!”
“Oh, my God,” Jensen mutters and heads to the house.
*
Jensen can’t decide what to check first. The lawn wins when he charges through the front door and his mouth drops. There is a distinct burn stain, nearly three feet in diameter, and he wants to cry. “Oh, fuck,” Jared whispers.
He turns and stares before glaring. “You poured vodka over us.”
“Like I knew Chad would light it on fire.”
Jensen huffs and shakes his head before marching to the window from the tape and he easily slides it up and down as the lock rattles in its place. “Crap,” he whines.
“Oh, crap,” Jared repeats when he sees it. They’re quiet for a bit, long enough that Jensen wonders how long they’ve been there. Jared manages a lame, “Maybe we should keep watching … find out who you slept with. That’ll cheer ya up.”
Jensen shoves past him and into the bathroom. He’s downing more Advil and now Pepto Bismol that isn’t even for the nausea anymore; it’s for the impending ulcer. After a harsh swallow of the pink stuff, he winces and mutters, “With my luck it’s some beast.”
*
The camera’s on the counter that splits Jensen’s dining area from the kitchen, right where he found it that morning. It’s not all that well lit, but Jared and Jensen are seen, quietly arguing when suddenly Jensen nearly barks, “Just fucking call her. God, how hard is this?”
“I am not drunk dialing my neighbor for your hook-up.”
Jensen whines, “Jared, it’s my birthday. It’s a goddamn present. Just do it.”
“What? This is not your present.”
He reaches forward, but it’s sloppy with inebriation and he’s just pushing at Jared. “Gimme your phone, I’ll call her.”
“Dude. No, you’re not drunk dialing her either. Just have another beer and shut up.” Jensen laughs and pushes Jared again, who pushes back and they’re horsing around again until Jared gets him in a headlock. “What d’ya want with her anyway? You were making out with the other girl.”
“So? I like options.”
Jared shoves him away, shaking his head but still chuckling. “Yeah, you were all over your options tonight. How many body shots you get?”
Jensen leans back against the counter and smirks. “Not enough.”
“I bet we can get Chad back in here to take one for you.” There’s more laughing and wrestling until they settle on another shot. Jensen brings down two juice glasses and Jared pours shots as Jensen arms them with salt shakers and limes nearby. They salt, drink, and lime themselves, only Jensen’s fruit breaks in his mouth, juice dripping down his chin. They’re still laughing, even as Jared reaches with a thumb to wipe his chin. Jensen snaps down to bite it and chuckles but stops when it happens once more and he actually catches Jared’s thumb. They pause, immobile and silent for some time until Jared leans down and kisses him.
From the angle of the camera, there isn’t much to know except Jared towers over Jensen, and Jensen’s hands find Jared’s back before the heads are tilting in either direction and the only sound on tape is loud breathing and smacking of wet lips until Jared shoves Jensen into the counter and he smacks a cabinet door hard enough that it pops open then closes. Jensen turns them, forcing Jared into the end of the counter where it turns further into the kitchen. His hands go through Jared’s hair, directing him through the kiss, and then he mumbles, “Best shot of the night,” and Jared nearly giggles until they’re kissing faster and harder. And they’re moving faster, too, saying each other’s names while grinding together. Jensen’s head falls to Jared’s shoulder but he’s still pulling on Jared’s hips and muttering tiny curses then he shakes and moans. Jared nudges into his head so they kiss more. It’s lazy but just as loud as before with wet tongues everywhere.
A loud crash comes from the back end of the house and they break apart but arms are still wound around each other. “What the fuck?” Jared asks as he looks beyond Jensen and he, too, looks in that direction.
Jensen immediately palms himself, cursing again but there are more noises from outside. He tugs his shirt down and slips away to check on it and, the entire time, Jared runs hands through his hair, pushes on his obviously hard dick, sighs, leans against the counter, walks along the counter then right back. With ruffled hair and hands on his hips, he bites his lip then shows a tiny smile when Jensen is right on the edge of the frame.
Jensen says, “Mike passed out at the patio table.”
Jared’s eyes pop open. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, fuck no. There’s glass everywhere. Thankfully? Chad’s taking him home now.”
“Wow,” he chuckles nervously. “One hell of a birthday, huh?”
Jensen sways when he nears him, but he says pretty clearly, “You wanna crash here?”
Jared’s sigh is obvious in the drop of his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, that’s cool.”
He reaches for the edge of Jared’s shirt and pulls him out of view. There are loud knocks, random curses, then laughter and rumblings of words that barely make their way through the microphone. Jared says, “bathroom” and Jensen says, “Yeah, I’ll be in there,” before a five-minute silence.
Next on screen is Jared shaking his head on the way to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, and mumbling. He leans against the counter and by the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head, he’s pretty pissed. Before finishing off the last of his water, he mutters, “Fuckin’ sleeping.” He throws the plastic bottle into the sink and marches off. “Dick.”
*
It’s quiet. Deathly quiet.
Jensen only watches his empty kitchen on display as absolutely nothing happens for a few minutes until he swallows and shuts off the TV.
“So.”
Jared only clears his throat.
Jensen scratches at his chin and keeps staring at the black screen. “Well … that happened.”
His tone is tense when he says, “That certainly fills in some gaps.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Jensen says just as tightly, rubbing at the back of his head.
Turning, Jared smacks his upper arm and puts on a fake smile. “What was it we used to say? Bad choices make good memories.”
“That’s what you have to say?” Jensen’s eyes narrow. “Of all the shit last night? You tell me they’re good memories. Memories we had to watch on playback, mind you.”
Jared’s eyes widen and he puts his hands into the air. “What do you want me to do?”
“It’s what you could’ve done last night.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno … maybe tell me to stop chuggin’ tequila? Tell me to not let Chad anywhere near my house? Or Mike? Or just, shit … ” he trails off before rubbing hands over his eyes. “We fucking made out in my kitchen.”
“Are you mad we made out or that it was next to your five-day-old dishes?” Jensen looks over like Jared has a second head, and Jared just laughs, realizing the situation has been eased a little as Jensen rolls his eyes and fights a chuckle. “I’m the one that should be mad. I didn’t even get off.”
“You really okay with this?”
Jared shrugs. “I mean, it happened … and you know, I didn’t … and no one really remembers.”
“It’s on film,” Jensen pushes.
“Okay, and? You’re the asshole who fell asleep on me.”
There’s another long silence and Jensen looks at him then away, and at Jared again only to look out the window. “You’re pissed about that part?”
Jared shrugs again, “I mean, why do you get off and I don’t? I passed out with blue balls.”
Jensen laughs, and tries to breathe but he just laughs harder. “Dude, it was my birthday.”
“Okay,” he starts with a small smile, “Then how about we make it up today?”
Jensen watches him for a few moments then asks, “You serious?”
“Well, I mean, we don’t, if you - ”
“I have a raging migraine and have thrown up the contents of my body. You really wanna mess around?”
Jared pushes a hand between them. “Okay, so, maybe when you recover?”
“Oh, fuckin’ a,” Jensen mumbles, shaking his head. But then he hits a few buttons on the remote and nods with a small smile. “Wanna watch Mike take Chad out again?”
“Shit, yeah,” Jared laughs.
Words: 4,200
Rating: Hard R
Summary: He’s pretty sure there are about ninety-nine other things that happened, and the fact that Chad - Chad - thought it was a stellar night, scares him all to hell.
Notes for queenklu's birthday!! She gave me a couple prompts and I wound up just scrambling through all of Texts From Last Night and incorporating ones that were particularly ridiculous.
Things Jensen remembers about his birthday
1. He turned thirty-two.
2. Jared took him out and there were a lot shots
3. Chad declared it “The Best Night Ever.”
4. He woke up with a condom in his hand, and his boxers dried to his skin.
5. There was videotape.
He’s pretty sure there are about ninety-nine other things that happened, and the fact that Chad - Chad - thought it was a stellar night, scares him all to hell.
The morning after, he spends a good deal of time - time not emptying everything in his stomach - searching the house for the video camera. In between that, he takes some Advil, drinks Gatorade, naps on the couch, watches an episode of Man vs. Food, throws up Gatorade, and cleans the bathroom. He fears staring at the moldy tub and random tracks of toothpaste in the sink and errant spittle on the mirror will cause him to vomit further. He survives. This time.
Despite how sweaty and greasy he feels, he can’t manage more than a second round on the couch, wisely avoiding any shows that deal with an overabundance of food. That’s when he spots it - sitting on the bartop counter, aimed into the kitchen: the camera. Jensen hooks it up to the TV and it starts with Chad shouting, “Bitches! Come on, gather ‘round. I have something to say!” There’s laughter and some mumbles, which Jensen thinks is him. “You know I don’t give a shit about this fucker,” Chad says with his arm tight around Jensen’s neck. “But it’s his fucking birthday, and we’re gonna do it up right. Right?!”
“What’re you doing?” Jared asks, suddenly in the room and wiping his eyes. He starts then eyes Jared staggering through the room and plopping down next to him on the couch, barely caring for Jensen’s feet on the next cushion.
“Where the hell you come from?”
“Your mom.” After Jensen’s snort, Jared coughs then sniffs and coughs again. “I woke up in your guest room. Fuck, what’d we do last night?” His sniffing sounds more wet this time and Jensen winces with him. “My nose alternately feels like it’s filled with marshmallow and glass.”
Jensen snorts again and shifts further into the cushions. “I was trying to review the evidence. Piece it all back together.”
“Shit, I don’t even remember my camera.”
“I remember a pit stop at your place. Veronica was there,” Jensen adds with a tiny smirk.
Jared tips his head back and smiles. “Shit, yes, Veronica. I saw her all over you.”
Jensen slides down, hand resting over his lower belly as he happily sighs. “Barely remember, but maybe it’s on tape.”
He pushes Jensen’s head over. “I can’t decide if I’m jealous or pissed at you.”
“You can be jealous. I accept it.”
*
The next scene from the tape shows Jared, Chad, Jensen, Mike, and a random smattering of people Jensen doesn’t know, but all seem to be with Chad. They’re marching down a busy street, trying to determine which place to stop at. A bouncer at Lucky Dice all but punches the camera away, fat hand covering the lens and forcing everyone from the front door.
But at Murphy’s, the camera chases anything with legs and a short skirt, and Chad’s murmurs accompany all the quick zooms and slow pans of each girl. Jared appears with a flat look while chomping down on gum. “You mind?” Chad asks with some heat.
“Do you?”
“What? I’m trying to tape everything, get the scenery. You know, for posterity.”
Jared looks between the camera and Chad, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t think that’s what you mean, but whatever. Stop taping chicks. Tape us, asshat.”
“What? And catch Jensen sipping his shot?” he asks as he swings the camera around the room to find Jensen tossing back two shots in quick succession. He wavers at the bar for just a few seconds, hands tight around the edge and then he smiles and waves for another shot. “Oh, fuck.”
The camera spins back to Jared, who starts laughing before pushing the camera back on Jensen. “Keep taping, dumbass.”
Chad points it back at Jared. “I am taping!”
“Tape someone other than me, God, what the fuck?” Jared sighs.
Chad moves just in time to catch Jensen lick salt off a random girl’s neck then dip into her cleavage to retrieve a shot and kick it back. He finishes it off with a long kiss, and pulls back with a lime-rind smile. Chad crows, “Fucker’s drinkin’ tonight!”
*
“Who was that?” Jensen asks, sitting forward and squinting at the screen.
“Who was who?”
He looks across the couch. “Do you remember her? Was she around all night?”
Jared sits up to inspect the screen. “I don’t think so … why?”
There’s the reflex to grab himself, to remember that he woke up with his boxers dried to his skin with come. He has to think for a few moments, considering that he might’ve come home and just gotten himself off, but there are tiny bits of memory that have him making out with someone against a brick wall - the soreness to his back confirms that - and searching for condoms in his room. “She just seems familiar,” he mumbles.
*
There are other girls. Ones that Chad dirty talks, ones that Mike convinces to all but flash the camera by claiming he’s a tattoo artist and he thinks an artfully designed tiger paw would be cool right there, and ones that Jensen does more shots with. He licks more necks than he probably has in his entire life.
In between the girls, there is a box race down a hill. Mike eggs them on, drags refrigerator boxes from the back of a family owned appliance store two streets over, and convinces Jensen - quite easily - to jump right in before he pushes it down the hill. Chad and another guy snag the other box and chase after him before both boxes tumble at the bottom and Jensen smoothly rolls over a few times then pops up to his legs with his arms high in the air while Chad and his buddy just wrestle over each other to get up.
There is also a stop at a liquor store so they can stock up on single serve bottles of tequila, vodka, and rum, all while they spend an inordinate amount of time bonding with the clerk behind the counter.“Have you ever had a birthday?” Chad asks, surprisingly coherent yet excessively loud.
There’s laughing, and people shoving the camera and Chad so the view of the middle-aged clerk is shaky. “Yes, of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Yes, but have you ever had one today?”
“No, my birthday is not today.”
Chad’s voice goes back to normal speaking levels and even sounds sad. “Dude, that sucks. If it was, I’d totally buy you a present.”
Mike jumps into view, slaps a tiny bottle of Captain Morgan on the counter along with two singles. “Here, dude, this is on us!”
Jared’s giggling from behind the camera, so is Jensen, then pretty much everyone else follows suit. Then Jared’s shoving Jensen into the frame and he tosses a five out while snatching a bottle of Cuervo from the small display case on the counter. “Here! It’s his birthday. Do a shot with him.”
“No, I’m sorry. I can ring you up but -”
“Yeah, yeah!” Jensen shouts. “Let’s do this.” He twists off the tops for both bottles and slides the rum across the way. “It’s my birthday. You have to do a birthday shot with me.”
Jensen raises the bottle to his mouth and waits for the clerk. He keeps an eye on the guy and keeps egging him on, until finally the clerk gulps it back. Jensen does, too, and the group chants a mixture of “Jensen!” and “Clerk! Clerk! Clerk!”
*
Jensen pauses the video and runs to the bathroom. Just the thought of all that tequila in his stomach has turned it over again and he’s now just throwing up water and bile, which tastes exactly like what the very bottom of one’s stomach should. Like acid and guts. Which only makes him heave more. He doesn’t get up right away, instead he kneels and admires the way his tile is clean for the first time in weeks.
Jared leans against the doorway and grins. “You missed the best part.”
“What’s that?” he grumbles between spitting into the toilet.
“You kissed the clerk. Tongue and all.”
Jensen looks up then turns and dry heaves. “I hate your guts.”
“Well, that might be because I still have mine.”
He rests his arms at the seat and then his head down on his wrists and Jared snorts. “Dude, I’m kidding. No tongue.”
“Please tell me the tape’s over.”
“Not by a long shot.” Jared laughs, “What? You done watching?”
“I just wanna find out who’s tongue was in my mouth last night.”
His laughing stops. “What?”
Jensen shifts to sit, back against the wall and arms over his bent knees. “I dunno, but I woke up with shit in my shorts.”
He stares. “You shit your pants?”
“No, I mean …” Jensen jerks his fist and then sighs with his head against the wall.
“Oh my God!” Jared nearly shouts. “You think Veronica?”
“I really fucking hope,” he sighs.
“Or one of the girls with the body shots?”
Jensen flicks his hands out and sighs. “I don’t know.”
*
The next girl Jensen does a shot with actually looks familiar. Jensen nails it with his voice loud in her ear and barely heard on the tape because of how much louder the music and other patrons are. “You work at the coffee shop on Main, right? I’m in there every weekend.”
“Oh yeah, yeah!” she yells back with a giant grin.
They keep talking, fast and animated, giant smiles a piece, and Chad focuses on them in between everything else. Like Jared fighting with Mike over whether Jensen really needs another shot.
“Cement mixer, c’mon!” Mike yells.
“No, dude, no. He’s gonna puke all over us.”
Mike laughs, “Kind of the point right?”
“Wow,” Chad’s voice comes on. “Even I don’t want Jensen to ralph on me. You’re a huge dick.”
“You can suck my huge dick,” Mike shoots back and pushes Chad away.
Chad pushes Mike, and it goes back and forth until Chad shoves the camera into Jared’s hands with a, “Watch me wail on this pussy.” As he swings at Mike, he shouts, “Better get this shit on tape!”
Jared laughs, keeping the camera on the headlock Chad successfully puts Mike in. “This your UFC audition tape?”
Chad turns to the camera, Mike’s head tight in his arm, and he’s grinning. “Watch this, fucker!”
That’s when Mike wraps arms around Chad’s waist and yanks him back so they both land on the ground. Then Mike spins over Chad, grabbing him in a full nelson, rolling them to their sides, and wrapping his legs around Chad’s to keep him immobile. “Who’s the fucker now?!” Mike laughs.
The camera’s jostled with more yelling, and security forces everyone out. They spill out to the street, laughing and play-fighting and boxing and landing a few shots, but nothing too much that they can’t take when this drunk.
Jared makes a little huh noise and the lens zooms into the alley then focuses; even in the dark it’s obvious that Jensen is pressing that girl against the brick wall, mouth fast and hands faster as they basically dry hump each other in the shady alley.
Chad whistles, but then curses as some beefy guy comes up and tugs Jensen off, forcing him hard into the wall. There’s a muffled, “with my fucking girl,” and Mike and a few of the others run off when other muscleheads join in on the fight of Jensen versus this girl’s boyfriend. Jared rushes forward, but stops when some of the beefy guys turn and glare at him. He raises the camera up and immediately apologizes.
It’s Chad who mutters, “Dude, fuck this,” and then tosses a half-filled beer bottle he’d walked out with it. It shatters on the wall above the crowd and Jensen slips away.
They book it down the street, yelling at each other to run faster, to turn this way and that. They shout about still being followed until they take enough corners and aren’t anymore. They slow their run, now jogging and finally just walking quickly, heaving the whole time and eventually breaking out in hysterics. Especially when they realize they’re just a few blocks from Jensen’s house and relatively safe.
“Please tell me you got beer? I did not just attempt to nail a guy with a bottle to save your bitch ass for you to not serve me more liquor,” Chad rattles off.
Jensen crowds Chad and gives him a hard, quick noogie. “You’re my hero!” he shouts in Chad’s ear.
Chad shoves him off. “Shit, all those chicks tonight and you find the one who’s married to the Terminator? You’re dumber than shit.”
Jared rings an arm around Jensen’s shoulders, tugging around his neck and laughing. “Dude’s fuckin’ brave.”
They laugh and playfight for the rest of the walk home, then they charge the last few houses when they spot the rest of Chad’s friends and Mike hanging on his front yard. Chad leaps onto Mike’s back. “You’re a big pussy. Running off!”
They’re fighting, but Chad never leaves Mike’s back, and Jensen leaps onto Jared’s back. Jared’s oomph is clear on the camera as it jostles around and then Jensen announces, “Chicken fight!”
Jared passes the camera to someone else and the four of them get down to business with Jensen and Chad perched on the others’ shoulders. They’re punching and swinging, even trying to kick at one another. The camera swings to a side window as someone fiddles with the lock and shoves it up. “Dude, yes! Get the beer!” another guy yells.
Jensen shrieks, “Dude! No!”
Chad slaps him high on his cheek. “You said more liquor!”
He slaps back, then the other cheek. “Don’t have to break into my house to get it, assholes!”
The front door opens and the guys spill back out, cans of beer tucked under arms to share and a couple bottles of liquor, too. Chad keeps swinging at Jensen to slap him again, going wide and sometimes low, nailing him in the throat. Once Jared and Mike let them down, Jensen tackles Chad to the ground and uses defensive moves to keep Chad from hitting him. They’re yelling at each other while the guys are yelling at them - both in trying to stop them and in egging it all on. Jared comes into view and douses them both with a bottle of vodka, the cold chill and sharp smell of it stopping them long enough that Mike and Jared can split them up.
Jared’s pushing Jensen away, arms over his shoulders then hands holding Jensen in place. “Dude, stop. Calm down.
The camera zooms in on Jensen, looking both pissed and guilty. “Fucker wouldn’t lay off.”
“Jen, calm down. C’mon,” Jared prods with a smoother voice. “I know he’s a bitch and he deserves it, but chill out, alright? It’s your birthday.”
Jensen sighs and his hands grip at Jared’s elbows as he looks even guiltier. “Alright, yeah. Sorry.”
Jared runs a hand over Jensen’s head and laughs. “Dude, I want you to have fun and fuck around, but don’t get too outta hand, alright?”
“Alright,” he says more forcefully yet while smiling. “I’m chilled.” Jared pulls away and Jensen yells, “Where’s my beer?!”
Soon enough, they’re breaking out cigarettes and even Chad’s got weed. He’s trying so hard to roll a joint and then light it. It flames up in his face and he drops it with a particularly girly wail. “God, you’re such a douche,” Mike laughs, pushing Chad out of the way. Then there’re a few sparks and the lawn lights up in a two-foot ball of fire. Everyone jumps back, shouting oh, shit and fuck and everything else. Jensen just stares in horror at the space where Jared had poured vodka over him and Chad, and basically soaked the lawn with flammable liquid. He points and yells, “Someone do something!”
Mike - literally - stops, drops, and rolls right over the fire as everyone else is screaming at him to get up and Jensen just covers his mouth in horror. Unbelievably, the fire is suffocated and Mike jumps back up while ignoring slight red marks across his arm that will likely burn like hell when he’s sober. “There! I fixed it!”
“Oh, my God,” Jensen mutters and heads to the house.
*
Jensen can’t decide what to check first. The lawn wins when he charges through the front door and his mouth drops. There is a distinct burn stain, nearly three feet in diameter, and he wants to cry. “Oh, fuck,” Jared whispers.
He turns and stares before glaring. “You poured vodka over us.”
“Like I knew Chad would light it on fire.”
Jensen huffs and shakes his head before marching to the window from the tape and he easily slides it up and down as the lock rattles in its place. “Crap,” he whines.
“Oh, crap,” Jared repeats when he sees it. They’re quiet for a bit, long enough that Jensen wonders how long they’ve been there. Jared manages a lame, “Maybe we should keep watching … find out who you slept with. That’ll cheer ya up.”
Jensen shoves past him and into the bathroom. He’s downing more Advil and now Pepto Bismol that isn’t even for the nausea anymore; it’s for the impending ulcer. After a harsh swallow of the pink stuff, he winces and mutters, “With my luck it’s some beast.”
*
The camera’s on the counter that splits Jensen’s dining area from the kitchen, right where he found it that morning. It’s not all that well lit, but Jared and Jensen are seen, quietly arguing when suddenly Jensen nearly barks, “Just fucking call her. God, how hard is this?”
“I am not drunk dialing my neighbor for your hook-up.”
Jensen whines, “Jared, it’s my birthday. It’s a goddamn present. Just do it.”
“What? This is not your present.”
He reaches forward, but it’s sloppy with inebriation and he’s just pushing at Jared. “Gimme your phone, I’ll call her.”
“Dude. No, you’re not drunk dialing her either. Just have another beer and shut up.” Jensen laughs and pushes Jared again, who pushes back and they’re horsing around again until Jared gets him in a headlock. “What d’ya want with her anyway? You were making out with the other girl.”
“So? I like options.”
Jared shoves him away, shaking his head but still chuckling. “Yeah, you were all over your options tonight. How many body shots you get?”
Jensen leans back against the counter and smirks. “Not enough.”
“I bet we can get Chad back in here to take one for you.” There’s more laughing and wrestling until they settle on another shot. Jensen brings down two juice glasses and Jared pours shots as Jensen arms them with salt shakers and limes nearby. They salt, drink, and lime themselves, only Jensen’s fruit breaks in his mouth, juice dripping down his chin. They’re still laughing, even as Jared reaches with a thumb to wipe his chin. Jensen snaps down to bite it and chuckles but stops when it happens once more and he actually catches Jared’s thumb. They pause, immobile and silent for some time until Jared leans down and kisses him.
From the angle of the camera, there isn’t much to know except Jared towers over Jensen, and Jensen’s hands find Jared’s back before the heads are tilting in either direction and the only sound on tape is loud breathing and smacking of wet lips until Jared shoves Jensen into the counter and he smacks a cabinet door hard enough that it pops open then closes. Jensen turns them, forcing Jared into the end of the counter where it turns further into the kitchen. His hands go through Jared’s hair, directing him through the kiss, and then he mumbles, “Best shot of the night,” and Jared nearly giggles until they’re kissing faster and harder. And they’re moving faster, too, saying each other’s names while grinding together. Jensen’s head falls to Jared’s shoulder but he’s still pulling on Jared’s hips and muttering tiny curses then he shakes and moans. Jared nudges into his head so they kiss more. It’s lazy but just as loud as before with wet tongues everywhere.
A loud crash comes from the back end of the house and they break apart but arms are still wound around each other. “What the fuck?” Jared asks as he looks beyond Jensen and he, too, looks in that direction.
Jensen immediately palms himself, cursing again but there are more noises from outside. He tugs his shirt down and slips away to check on it and, the entire time, Jared runs hands through his hair, pushes on his obviously hard dick, sighs, leans against the counter, walks along the counter then right back. With ruffled hair and hands on his hips, he bites his lip then shows a tiny smile when Jensen is right on the edge of the frame.
Jensen says, “Mike passed out at the patio table.”
Jared’s eyes pop open. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, fuck no. There’s glass everywhere. Thankfully? Chad’s taking him home now.”
“Wow,” he chuckles nervously. “One hell of a birthday, huh?”
Jensen sways when he nears him, but he says pretty clearly, “You wanna crash here?”
Jared’s sigh is obvious in the drop of his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, that’s cool.”
He reaches for the edge of Jared’s shirt and pulls him out of view. There are loud knocks, random curses, then laughter and rumblings of words that barely make their way through the microphone. Jared says, “bathroom” and Jensen says, “Yeah, I’ll be in there,” before a five-minute silence.
Next on screen is Jared shaking his head on the way to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, and mumbling. He leans against the counter and by the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head, he’s pretty pissed. Before finishing off the last of his water, he mutters, “Fuckin’ sleeping.” He throws the plastic bottle into the sink and marches off. “Dick.”
*
It’s quiet. Deathly quiet.
Jensen only watches his empty kitchen on display as absolutely nothing happens for a few minutes until he swallows and shuts off the TV.
“So.”
Jared only clears his throat.
Jensen scratches at his chin and keeps staring at the black screen. “Well … that happened.”
His tone is tense when he says, “That certainly fills in some gaps.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Jensen says just as tightly, rubbing at the back of his head.
Turning, Jared smacks his upper arm and puts on a fake smile. “What was it we used to say? Bad choices make good memories.”
“That’s what you have to say?” Jensen’s eyes narrow. “Of all the shit last night? You tell me they’re good memories. Memories we had to watch on playback, mind you.”
Jared’s eyes widen and he puts his hands into the air. “What do you want me to do?”
“It’s what you could’ve done last night.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno … maybe tell me to stop chuggin’ tequila? Tell me to not let Chad anywhere near my house? Or Mike? Or just, shit … ” he trails off before rubbing hands over his eyes. “We fucking made out in my kitchen.”
“Are you mad we made out or that it was next to your five-day-old dishes?” Jensen looks over like Jared has a second head, and Jared just laughs, realizing the situation has been eased a little as Jensen rolls his eyes and fights a chuckle. “I’m the one that should be mad. I didn’t even get off.”
“You really okay with this?”
Jared shrugs. “I mean, it happened … and you know, I didn’t … and no one really remembers.”
“It’s on film,” Jensen pushes.
“Okay, and? You’re the asshole who fell asleep on me.”
There’s another long silence and Jensen looks at him then away, and at Jared again only to look out the window. “You’re pissed about that part?”
Jared shrugs again, “I mean, why do you get off and I don’t? I passed out with blue balls.”
Jensen laughs, and tries to breathe but he just laughs harder. “Dude, it was my birthday.”
“Okay,” he starts with a small smile, “Then how about we make it up today?”
Jensen watches him for a few moments then asks, “You serious?”
“Well, I mean, we don’t, if you - ”
“I have a raging migraine and have thrown up the contents of my body. You really wanna mess around?”
Jared pushes a hand between them. “Okay, so, maybe when you recover?”
“Oh, fuckin’ a,” Jensen mumbles, shaking his head. But then he hits a few buttons on the remote and nods with a small smile. “Wanna watch Mike take Chad out again?”
“Shit, yeah,” Jared laughs.