CW // drinking, smoking, mentions of drugs, theft, vomiting (average davesport activities)
It's Dave and Jack in Vegas, those warnings are pretty tame compared to.......other fics....😨
///
"Alright, so what do you want to do now, purps? We're at Vegas!"
"Yeah...uh...I didn't really think we'd get this far." Dave mumbled. Jack shrugged, "Fair." He chirped. The two looked around. Jack squinted at the bright 'WELCOME TO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS' sign. "Your phone take photos?" Dave asked, which earned a shake of the head from Jack. "Oh. So photos are off the list. Well, that's fine, we can just savor these memories. Y'know, live in the moment or whatever!" Dave cheered. Jack smiled.
The two still stood there awkwardly.
"...You wanna get something to eat?" Jack offered, cutting through the silence, and Dave quickly replied with a 'yeah, sure, I'm already bored.'
They walked into a McDonalds. Jack simply ordered a plain burger, extra ketchup, no cheese. Dave ordered three large fries. "Dave, those are going to be covered in grease." Jack looked over in confusion. "You ordered extra ketchup, Sportsy. First of all, who gives enough of a shit to be that specific? Second of all, your fingers will be doused in ketchup. If they even add extra ketchup, that is." Dave dead-panned. "Fine, fine, stop ranting about me and my burger choices, I get it." Jack smiled faintly. The two waited for their order to be served up. When the bag was placed down onto the counter, Dave grabbed it and ran out while Jack yanked someone's wallet. They laughed and giggled like bastards as they ran. Jack held onto Dave's hand. Dave warmed up but kept on running.
They stopped at a hotel. The two men waded into the bright hotel. There were chandeliers, big windows, and fancy floors. "Woah, Dave. This place is fancy. Are we paying or sneaking in?" Jack whispered, and Dave chuckled. "Only the best for my dearest chum-chum." He paused. "Oh, and, yeah, we're sneaking in." He yanked Jack's arm over and crouched behind a couch in the lobby. The McDonald's bag crinkled loudly, to which they both winced at. He glanced around, before he snatched a key card to a room and bolted away.
The two giggled the entire time they ran. Dave rapidly ran up the stairs with Jack. "What number is this?" He quickly asked Jack. "Uh, 102." Jack replied. He noticed the door 102 and pulled Dave over to it. Dave shoved the key card into the door lock. "Go, go, go-!" He pushed Jack into the hotel room so they wouldn't get caught.
Once they got in, Dave slammed the door closed. There was silence, before they started laughing again. Jack reached into the McDonald's bag and handed Dave his fries. "Thanks, Sportsy. I love y- I love greasy fries." Dave mumbled before chomping on several fries at once to shut himself up. He shuffled over to Jack and sat down with him. "Did they get yer extra ketchup?" He asked teasingly. Jack unwrapped the burger and chuckled. "You were right, Dave. Dripping in ketchup." He took a chomp out of the burger. They sat in silence as they ate.
"Oh, did you bring any licorice to summon a horde of ungrateful toddlers from Vegas?" Jack asked. Dave pulled out a few strands of black and red licorice. "We're all set for the deluxe package of coke." He grinned. Jack cheered lightly and went back to eating.
After a while, Jack got up from the floor. He dusted himself off. "I'm gonna go out to the balcony for a bit." He said, to which Dave gave a thumbs-up. Jack slid open the door to the balcony and coughed a bit when the cold air slapped him in the face. He reached into his pocket and took out a lighter and a stray cigarette. He sparked the lighter twice, lit up his cigarette, and took a drag.
He stared off at the bright city.
He knew he would never forgive himself for killing those innocent kids. He promised.
But...it did seem worth it. Vegas was quite beautiful. And he got to spend it with Dave. That lovable idiot.
Maybe it wasn't so bad.
He whipped his head back as he heard a crash. "Wh-" He saw Dave had tipped over the microwave in a fit of either despair or rage. "My fucking kebab!" He buried his face in his hands. Okay, definitely despair. "You burnt the kebab?" Jack walked back inside and chuckled. "Don't laugh at me! This is devastating!" Dave gestured dramatically to the burnt kebab in the microwave. "I'll find you another one, relax. It's alright, buddy." Jack pats Dave's shoulder as he mourns the kebab.
Once Dave finally calmed down, he simply rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "Anyways, ya wanna go to a bar?" He asked, his tone back to his usual annoying voice. "Sure, but you're paying." Jack picks up his sweater and chucks it at Dave. "Aw, ya think we're payin'!" Dave grins.
The two walk through Vegas, looking for a bar. They find one in no time. "God, it's so bright around here. And loud. Fuck." Jack mutters as he squints, now with an iron-clad grip on Dave's hand. "Ya shoulda brought glasses or somethin', Old Sport." Dave pats Jack's shoulder lightly and walks into the bar. "Two corpses walk into a bar," Dave jokes. "Ooh, one sees a hot waiter and bails." Jack replies, speed-walking over to a thin waiter and striking up conversation.
Dave's jaw drops jokingly, rolls his eyes, and goes to get himself a drink. He sees a bartender with a blue-looking phone head. The bartender wore orange suspenders and a bow tie, along with a cyan button-up. Dave cringes ever so slightly at the sign of yet ANOTHER phone-fuck to deal with, and the worst outfit ever chosen. "Hey, get me a margarita." He hands the bartender a five dollar bill and waits, watching as hookers try to flirt with other guys. He was somewhat bored of them already. He turns to see that his drink had just been served. "Are you in Margaritaville tonight?" The bartender asks in a friendly tone. Dave cringes again but nods along. "Sure." He mutters.
Okay, now he was getting really bored.
He got up and walked over to Jack, pulling him away from his little waiter friend. "Get over here, Old Sport." He grumbled. "Cockblocker." Jack glared at Dave briefly, then walked with him. Dave walked outside. "What's got you so riled up?" Jack asks. "I'm done with hookers tonight, they're boring. We'll find one later, maybe tomorrow. Let's just go back to the hotel." Dave grumbles. "Alright, I guess. That waiter, though. My god." Jack holds Dave's hand as they walk back. "Stop fawning over the fuckin' waiter, Old Sport. He was a stone cold 7, at most." Dave chuckles, but Jack notices a very tiny twinge of jealousy in his tone.
They do the entire process of sneaking in again, giggles and all. Although, when Jack got into the room again, he let go of Dave. "Sportsy-? You alri-" Dave turned to Jack and saw the clementine man puking into a trashcan. Dave rubbed his back and tried to comfort him as best as he could. "One too many drinks with your twink waiter?" Dave teased. Jack flipped him off and groaned. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. "Ew. Gross. Pass me a water." Jack mumbled out. Dave handed him a water bottle from the mini fridge in the room. He sat down on the bed.
"...ya know, we only have one bed here, Sportsy." Dave said. "Oh. I'll sleep on the floor." Dave frowned. "Nah, nah, it'll be more comfortable on the bed. I promise I'll keep my socks on and everything!" He wrung his hands together dramatically. "...Fine. But no cuddling whatsoever." Jack reluctantly agreed.
He brushed his yellowish teeth and laid in bed. The aubergine giggled. "Dave." Jack warned. Dave stopped giggling. "Aw." He frowned. Jack reached over for the lamp. "Goodnight, Dave." He grunted as the light switched off. "Night night, tangerine."
Safe to say, they woke up cuddling.
///
Vegas!!!! Vegas.... (full metal alchemist voice)
Word count: 1351
