[There's no way that Raleigh is that drunk. No way because Chuck has had at least three more than him and he doesn't feel that drunk, so Raleigh just needs to man up and take more. Or something.
It makes sense in his head but not in like, not dirty ways.
Chuck finishes pouring the shots, one for each of them and just gives him a look.]
[ Raleigh, because he's a magnanimous drunk and cruising the highs of a mild, fuzzy feeling buzz, only shakes his head and takes the shot Chuck's offering rather than knock his hand away like he would've if he were sober. ]
No, but I'm the one driving your wasted ass back home tonight. Or did you forget?
[So the moral of the story is to get Raleigh just tipsy enough that he doesn't really try that hard to say no, that's a good lesson to learn. Way to go, team.
He did forget that Raleigh was supposed to drive tonight but who the fuck cares about that.]
[ Because that isn't going to backfire on Chuck when he gets too drunk to say no, either.
Raleigh drains what's in the glass, sets it beside him on the grass, and lies back, hands interlocked behind his head. Clearly neither of them are making plans to move anywhere soon, so he might as well get comfortable. ]
We could do that. [ His eyes drift closed. ] But then we can't drive downtown for hangover waffles in the morning, man, and I dunno if I can have that.
[ He had at least four beers inside the house before Chuck dragged him out, so he's excused. And why not? This patch of grass here is comfortable to lie in, cool on his skin, and the trees block the wind from touching them.
Raleigh drawls with his eyes still closed: ] Hangover waffles. 's different. [ He jabs a finger up at the sky. ] They put like, six pounds of greasy bacon next to the waffles, and you get to choose what kind of hash browns you want.
[Chuck is a teenager, so he's not a health nut (not yet) but that just sounds like greasy death to him. Six pounds of bacon? Really? He will never understand Americans and their obsession with bacon.]
[ Not actually six pounds of bacon; teenagers are also very prone to exaggeration. ]
Capped, diced, chunked, smothered... you name it. [ Raleigh's eyes fly open, and he twists his head so that he’s looking at Chuck now. ] Wait – don’t tell me you’ve never been to the Waffle House.
[The way that Chuck blinks at him should say everything. He's only recently come to the United States, the last three years and Australia doesn't have things like the Waffle House. And Chuck doesn't have the kind of friends you go to the Waffle House with, here or there.
[ Neither does Raleigh, so it evens out. He pretty okay with how Chuck turned out to be the go-to guy for him whenever he wants to do something, and if he isn't, Raleigh's good at not letting that show.
Raleigh sort of -- turns over on his stomach, going for smooth, but achieving more of a flop. It's brought him sprawled out closer to Chuck, although he's also unfortunately draped himself over part of Chuck's arm. ]
You have a problem, not me. [ Emphatic. ] I'm gonna take you.
[Chuck looks down at him on his arm, can't seem to figure out what to do about it for a moment before he decides to hell with it, and more or less pulls Raleigh on top of him.]
If you aren't in too much pain tomorrow, fine. We'll go.
[ His face is a little slack in its surprise, but he rolls with it. Raleigh's grin is a slow thing growing, bright with content in his current position and the promise of an awesome breakfast in the morning. ]
Okay, okay. Tomorrow.
[ He pauses, brows furrowing. Considering. ] You think we can go tonight?
The flush on his face is only partially because of the alcohol now. Raleigh's always been a sucker for Chuck, so there's not much to do but settle. ] Yeah? What kind of plans?
Plans that involve arching up and kissing his stupid, stupid mouth, which is exactly what Chuck does. So this only happens when they're both on the better side of drunk and come tomorrow, he's going to go back to his girlfriend like nothing happened here.
It's nice anyway, right? And it's not like Becket is getting any from anyone else so he can't be picky.]
Raleigh's definitely not giving any complaints either, except that maybe
the angle for kissing is a little awkward, so Raleigh shifts over Chuck to
settle more of his weight on his knees, turning the awkward bump of their
mouths into a proper kiss. When Chuck arches up, Raleigh catches Chuck's
hips and keeps him there.
And shut up, Raleigh can totally get it up with someone else. But he --
inexplicably -- wants it with Chuck more than he wants it from any random
chick he could pick up at this party, so maybe he holds Chuck to him a
little tighter than he means to right off the bat. The existence of
Chuck's girlfriend is supremely irritating, always has been for reasons
Raleigh doesn't really want to get into with Chuck, ever, but marking Chuck
up for show's always been one of their big no rules, no matter how
badly Raleigh wants to.
Just to -- he doesn't know. Make it so that there's proof that something
did happen here, or whatever.
It keeps up like that until Raleigh has to break away for air, pressing a
couple of light, biting kisses to Chuck's neck, nothing that'll leave
bruises tomorrow. ]
[Why does there need to be proof at all? Why do they have to talk about this with anyone else, because you better fucking believe that Chuck still thinks of himself as straight. Straight with a broken compass when he's drunk or something. If that's what he has to tell himself to sleep at night.
He can't explain why he likes this... thing with Becket so much. Why Raleigh has him breathing heavier and tipping his head to the side so he can do more of that to his neck.]
Don't you leave a mark, dumbass. [Or why he has to say shit even though he trusts that Raleigh won't.]
Raleigh just hums noncommittally, tucking his fingers under Chuck's waistband and bending forward to get his mouth on Chuck's. Chuck's neck is arched, inviting, Chuck's panting under him, and it's a damn shame Raleigh can't mark him up proper like he wants to, but this is good too. Really good. ]
You look good with bruises. [ Chuck has a lot of them; comes with being a hockey player, Raleigh guesses. Raleigh's not going to leave any more on him, but it's still fun to rile Chuck up some. ] They'd look better if they came from me, though.
Chuck makes a noise between the fingers playing at his pants and that no matter what insults he slings at Raleigh, he is a good kisser and he likes kissing him. Because it also serves to shut Raleigh up and that's always, ways a good thing.]
Possessive prick. I'll still sock you if you tried.
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It makes sense in his head but not in like, not dirty ways.
Chuck finishes pouring the shots, one for each of them and just gives him a look.]
Come on, Becket, or are you scared?
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No, but I'm the one driving your wasted ass back home tonight. Or did you forget?
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He did forget that Raleigh was supposed to drive tonight but who the fuck cares about that.]
We can walk.
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Raleigh drains what's in the glass, sets it beside him on the grass, and lies back, hands interlocked behind his head. Clearly neither of them are making plans to move anywhere soon, so he might as well get comfortable. ]
We could do that. [ His eyes drift closed. ] But then we can't drive downtown for hangover waffles in the morning, man, and I dunno if I can have that.
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You could walk back to get the car then. [Chuck suggests, stretching out next to him.] Or make the waffles if you want them so damn bad.
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Raleigh drawls with his eyes still closed: ] Hangover waffles. 's different. [ He jabs a finger up at the sky. ] They put like, six pounds of greasy bacon next to the waffles, and you get to choose what kind of hash browns you want.
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How are there more than one kind of hash browns?
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Capped, diced, chunked, smothered... you name it. [ Raleigh's eyes fly open, and he twists his head so that he’s looking at Chuck now. ] Wait – don’t tell me you’ve never been to the Waffle House.
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Except perhaps Raleigh. Which is odd.]
You got a problem with that?
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Raleigh sort of -- turns over on his stomach, going for smooth, but achieving more of a flop. It's brought him sprawled out closer to Chuck, although he's also unfortunately draped himself over part of Chuck's arm. ]
You have a problem, not me. [ Emphatic. ] I'm gonna take you.
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If you aren't in too much pain tomorrow, fine. We'll go.
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Okay, okay. Tomorrow.
[ He pauses, brows furrowing. Considering. ] You think we can go tonight?
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No. We won't have time for that.
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[ He tilts his head a bit to the side, like a perplexed mutt. Remember, he's more than a little drunk himself. ]
Yeah, we do. It's a 24/7 joint.
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But I have other plans.
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The flush on his face is only partially because of the alcohol now. Raleigh's always been a sucker for Chuck, so there's not much to do but settle. ] Yeah? What kind of plans?
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Plans that involve arching up and kissing his stupid, stupid mouth, which is exactly what Chuck does. So this only happens when they're both on the better side of drunk and come tomorrow, he's going to go back to his girlfriend like nothing happened here.
It's nice anyway, right? And it's not like Becket is getting any from anyone else so he can't be picky.]
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[ He's not hearing any complaints.
Raleigh's definitely not giving any complaints either, except that maybe the angle for kissing is a little awkward, so Raleigh shifts over Chuck to settle more of his weight on his knees, turning the awkward bump of their mouths into a proper kiss. When Chuck arches up, Raleigh catches Chuck's hips and keeps him there.
And shut up, Raleigh can totally get it up with someone else. But he -- inexplicably -- wants it with Chuck more than he wants it from any random chick he could pick up at this party, so maybe he holds Chuck to him a little tighter than he means to right off the bat. The existence of Chuck's girlfriend is supremely irritating, always has been for reasons Raleigh doesn't really want to get into with Chuck, ever, but marking Chuck up for show's always been one of their big no rules, no matter how badly Raleigh wants to.
Just to -- he doesn't know. Make it so that there's proof that something did happen here, or whatever.
It keeps up like that until Raleigh has to break away for air, pressing a couple of light, biting kisses to Chuck's neck, nothing that'll leave bruises tomorrow. ]
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He can't explain why he likes this... thing with Becket so much. Why Raleigh has him breathing heavier and tipping his head to the side so he can do more of that to his neck.]
Don't you leave a mark, dumbass. [Or why he has to say shit even though he trusts that Raleigh won't.]
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Raleigh just hums noncommittally, tucking his fingers under Chuck's waistband and bending forward to get his mouth on Chuck's. Chuck's neck is arched, inviting, Chuck's panting under him, and it's a damn shame Raleigh can't mark him up proper like he wants to, but this is good too. Really good. ]
You look good with bruises. [ Chuck has a lot of them; comes with being a hockey player, Raleigh guesses. Raleigh's not going to leave any more on him, but it's still fun to rile Chuck up some. ] They'd look better if they came from me, though.
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Chuck makes a noise between the fingers playing at his pants and that no matter what insults he slings at Raleigh, he is a good kisser and he likes kissing him. Because it also serves to shut Raleigh up and that's always, ways a good thing.]
Possessive prick. I'll still sock you if you tried.