tequila shots in the dark
Title:tequila shots in the dark
Word Count: 1,113
Summary: It's a night of free-flowing alcohol and drunken shenanigans.
Notes: De-anoning this fill for the yj_anon_meme way forever ago.
---
If memory could wade through the slush of grey matter between his ears, Kaldur would have the sense to blame Wally for this. All of this.
The alcohol, the world spinning sideways, the strange feeling that he was floating and falling at the same time, the alcohol.
But memory was drowning in the sea of tequila and salt lapping the edges of his skull.
Kaldur blearily looked around the room, his eyeballs practically floating inside his head. Conner was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, head bowed as he stared at the bottle he was currently rolling between his palms.
“I mean, I just don’t get it,” He mumbled to no one in particular, “It’s as if he doesn’t like me. And that’s just bullshit, right? Because I am a pretty likeable person.” The lip of the bottle tilted and beer trickled to the floor, “Or at least I try to be. Most of the time.” His chin dipped to his chest as he fought his eyelids from closing.
Wally, reclining on the couch’s armrest, lazily waved his bottle of vodka through the air, “Yeah sure whatever, Supes. You’re the best.” He threw his head back and downed the rest of the drink in a fluid motion before making a face, disappointed in the lack of liquor in the bottle, “Just keep telling yourself that, okay? One day it might be true.”
A sloppy glare from the stalwart clone and Wally offered a glare of his own, “Don’t look at me like that. At least you’re drunk enough to forget this night even happened. I’ve had two bottles of Everclear--two--and I’m not even tipsy.” He had held up his fingers to emphasize the point and his frown turned into a pout, freckles shifting accordingly. Tossing the empty container aside, Wally huffed and slid off the armrest, leaving his feet dangling listlessly over the side. His hair splayed across the cushions like the bristles of a worn paintbrush and Kaldur was briefly reminded of a lion, “This sucks. Like so hard.”
Conner swapped his drained bottle of beer for a can sitting next to him. The tab was already popped and Kaldur wondered if it tasted warm. He meant to voice his opinion, but his brain forgot to parse his lips and move his tongue so he settled for watching his teammate instead.
Awkwardly, Conner rose from the low table and stumbled to the couch, narrowly missing Wally’s head as he plopped on the cushions. “You don’t understand,” he launched himself into his ramblings as though he hadn’t been interrupted and Wally groaned as he covered his ears. Conner waved his hands about wildly, offering an explanation that hadn’t been requested and Kaldur shifted his attention to other members of the team.
Dick clapped his hands and laughed loudly, a pink straw clenched between his teeth. Four glasses sat next to him, empty and forlorn, ice cubes slowly loosing form as coke and rum clung to translucent edges. “Koala!” He exclaimed, “Do a koala next!” M’gann nodded as she smiled, or at least Kaldur assumed it was a smile as she was currently sporting the whiskers and tusks of a walrus.
“Okay okay,” She giggled, her voice reverberating in the liquor laden air and it took him a moment to realize her words did not fall from her lips, but bounced around within his own head. “That’s the cute bear with the big round ears, correct?” Rolls of blubber melted away and the whiskered muzzle tapered into a dainty black nose. Dick chewed thoughtfully on his straw, watching the transformation with glee. When a small koala bear was staring back up at him for approval, he cheered and clapped enthusiastically.
M’gann bowed as best she could before pawing at her can of Fourloco, succeeding only in knocking it over. The forceful smell of sugar washed over the room and the precious koala-M’gann-creature twitched her nose madly.
Freeing his crossed legs, Dick crawled across the floor and sat the can upright, “Hold on I’ll get you another one. When I get back, you should try a flying squirrel next!” He cackled as he dashed for the kitchen, tripping over himself once or twice on the way.
Kaldur scanned the room once again. He wiggled his toes (or at least he though he wiggled his toes but most everything had gone numb at this point) and licked a few stray granules of salt from his lips. “Perhaps,” He rumbled, slow and serene, “Perhaps Roy had a point in striking it out alone.”
Conner was still swinging his arms about his head, sloshing beer in grand arcs through the air and raving vehemently (and it’s a bitch not knowing something and everyone looks at you sideways because they think hey, aren’t you too old to be this stupid) while Wally tried to talk over him, fingers jammed in his ears (la la la dude I can’t hear you right now because I don’t give a damn I mean really seriously for serious).
“This feels oddly--” A crash, loud and jolting, interrupted Kaldur’s musings. Dick kicked at the glittering mess of glass and liquor littering the floor, his arms filled with cans and bottles of liquid candor. Shrugging it off with an amused laugh, he tossed M’gann a colorful can. She reflexively shifted into her human form and fumbled with the drink. Dick cheered. “It is as though I am babysitting.” He concluded.
Conner continued his tirade.
Wally’s protests increased in volume.
Dick’s cheering dissolved into laughing.
M’gann giggled embarrassedly.
The raucous symphony offended Kaldur’s senses and right then he decided that he had had enough. He had to get out of here. He stood up too quickly and the world threatened to fall off its axis, but he took a determined step forward. Then another. And another still. He was well on his way to wherever ‘out of here’ was before his eyes lost all focus and nausea washed over him. Fighting back bile until the urge to vomit was only lapping at the shores of his stomach, Kaldur clumsily sat down on the floor. His head throbbed in objection and his stomach clenched, forcing him to lie down. The floor’s icy palm caressed his cheek comfortingly, easing Kaldur’s tension and lulling him to sleep.
Teetering on the cliff of consciousness, Kaldur resolved to continue whatever he was trying to attempt at a later date.
His blood was replaced by tequila and salt still danced on his lips as memory slowly slipped beneath the waves between his ears, but Kaldur took one last step forward, letting sleep tug and swallow him whole.
---
Word Count: 1,113
Summary: It's a night of free-flowing alcohol and drunken shenanigans.
Notes: De-anoning this fill for the yj_anon_meme way forever ago.
---
If memory could wade through the slush of grey matter between his ears, Kaldur would have the sense to blame Wally for this. All of this.
The alcohol, the world spinning sideways, the strange feeling that he was floating and falling at the same time, the alcohol.
But memory was drowning in the sea of tequila and salt lapping the edges of his skull.
Kaldur blearily looked around the room, his eyeballs practically floating inside his head. Conner was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, head bowed as he stared at the bottle he was currently rolling between his palms.
“I mean, I just don’t get it,” He mumbled to no one in particular, “It’s as if he doesn’t like me. And that’s just bullshit, right? Because I am a pretty likeable person.” The lip of the bottle tilted and beer trickled to the floor, “Or at least I try to be. Most of the time.” His chin dipped to his chest as he fought his eyelids from closing.
Wally, reclining on the couch’s armrest, lazily waved his bottle of vodka through the air, “Yeah sure whatever, Supes. You’re the best.” He threw his head back and downed the rest of the drink in a fluid motion before making a face, disappointed in the lack of liquor in the bottle, “Just keep telling yourself that, okay? One day it might be true.”
A sloppy glare from the stalwart clone and Wally offered a glare of his own, “Don’t look at me like that. At least you’re drunk enough to forget this night even happened. I’ve had two bottles of Everclear--two--and I’m not even tipsy.” He had held up his fingers to emphasize the point and his frown turned into a pout, freckles shifting accordingly. Tossing the empty container aside, Wally huffed and slid off the armrest, leaving his feet dangling listlessly over the side. His hair splayed across the cushions like the bristles of a worn paintbrush and Kaldur was briefly reminded of a lion, “This sucks. Like so hard.”
Conner swapped his drained bottle of beer for a can sitting next to him. The tab was already popped and Kaldur wondered if it tasted warm. He meant to voice his opinion, but his brain forgot to parse his lips and move his tongue so he settled for watching his teammate instead.
Awkwardly, Conner rose from the low table and stumbled to the couch, narrowly missing Wally’s head as he plopped on the cushions. “You don’t understand,” he launched himself into his ramblings as though he hadn’t been interrupted and Wally groaned as he covered his ears. Conner waved his hands about wildly, offering an explanation that hadn’t been requested and Kaldur shifted his attention to other members of the team.
Dick clapped his hands and laughed loudly, a pink straw clenched between his teeth. Four glasses sat next to him, empty and forlorn, ice cubes slowly loosing form as coke and rum clung to translucent edges. “Koala!” He exclaimed, “Do a koala next!” M’gann nodded as she smiled, or at least Kaldur assumed it was a smile as she was currently sporting the whiskers and tusks of a walrus.
“Okay okay,” She giggled, her voice reverberating in the liquor laden air and it took him a moment to realize her words did not fall from her lips, but bounced around within his own head. “That’s the cute bear with the big round ears, correct?” Rolls of blubber melted away and the whiskered muzzle tapered into a dainty black nose. Dick chewed thoughtfully on his straw, watching the transformation with glee. When a small koala bear was staring back up at him for approval, he cheered and clapped enthusiastically.
M’gann bowed as best she could before pawing at her can of Fourloco, succeeding only in knocking it over. The forceful smell of sugar washed over the room and the precious koala-M’gann-creature twitched her nose madly.
Freeing his crossed legs, Dick crawled across the floor and sat the can upright, “Hold on I’ll get you another one. When I get back, you should try a flying squirrel next!” He cackled as he dashed for the kitchen, tripping over himself once or twice on the way.
Kaldur scanned the room once again. He wiggled his toes (or at least he though he wiggled his toes but most everything had gone numb at this point) and licked a few stray granules of salt from his lips. “Perhaps,” He rumbled, slow and serene, “Perhaps Roy had a point in striking it out alone.”
Conner was still swinging his arms about his head, sloshing beer in grand arcs through the air and raving vehemently (and it’s a bitch not knowing something and everyone looks at you sideways because they think hey, aren’t you too old to be this stupid) while Wally tried to talk over him, fingers jammed in his ears (la la la dude I can’t hear you right now because I don’t give a damn I mean really seriously for serious).
“This feels oddly--” A crash, loud and jolting, interrupted Kaldur’s musings. Dick kicked at the glittering mess of glass and liquor littering the floor, his arms filled with cans and bottles of liquid candor. Shrugging it off with an amused laugh, he tossed M’gann a colorful can. She reflexively shifted into her human form and fumbled with the drink. Dick cheered. “It is as though I am babysitting.” He concluded.
Conner continued his tirade.
Wally’s protests increased in volume.
Dick’s cheering dissolved into laughing.
M’gann giggled embarrassedly.
The raucous symphony offended Kaldur’s senses and right then he decided that he had had enough. He had to get out of here. He stood up too quickly and the world threatened to fall off its axis, but he took a determined step forward. Then another. And another still. He was well on his way to wherever ‘out of here’ was before his eyes lost all focus and nausea washed over him. Fighting back bile until the urge to vomit was only lapping at the shores of his stomach, Kaldur clumsily sat down on the floor. His head throbbed in objection and his stomach clenched, forcing him to lie down. The floor’s icy palm caressed his cheek comfortingly, easing Kaldur’s tension and lulling him to sleep.
Teetering on the cliff of consciousness, Kaldur resolved to continue whatever he was trying to attempt at a later date.
His blood was replaced by tequila and salt still danced on his lips as memory slowly slipped beneath the waves between his ears, but Kaldur took one last step forward, letting sleep tug and swallow him whole.
---