hold my hand [w.s]

stupid drunk gay [001]

Schlatt burst out in his frenzied laughter while watching another round of shots being taken to the table. He attempted at a slurred joke quietened by the loud music, cutting himself off with giggles before he could even finish speaking. He jumped down from his perch up on the kitchen counter and pushed his way to the bar full of shots, grabbing one and downing it with the rest of the party-goers.

He mindlessly remembered Ted going home with his girlfriend, Madi, as the alcohol burnt down his throat in a horribly satisfying way, slamming the shot glass down on the table.

Schlatt didn't really know many people at the party, so he tried to stay with the people he came with; Cooper, Travis, Ted, Noah and Wilbur. He was aware that his friends from the misfits were hosting it all, but he was yet to see them. He assumed they were in another room doing drugs along with Cooper, Travis and Noah. 

He coughed into his hand, stumbling to the fridge to search for another beer; his 7th for the night. Schlatt was considerably drunk with no hesitation to continue his frantic drinking, the thoughts that might've previously plagued his mind seemed to be whisked away with whiskey.

He grabbed the beer bottle sloppily, searching the room for someone who might have a bottle opener on hand. Instead, he saw Wilbur, whose mere presence seemed to distract Schlatt from his previous goal. As he stood and began to make his way over to the taller boy, someone grabbed his wrist and popped the lid off his bottle for him. The unknown party-goer pat him on the back enthusiastically before wandering off.

Schlatt didn't bother to question what had happened, and instead looked back in the direction Wilbur had been. Instead of seeing the brit chatting to some others, he saw him walk out onto the balcony. He grinned, following him out as he took a generous swig of the booze in hand.

"Wilburrrr SoOT!" Schlatt yelled as soon as he opened the sliding door. Wilbur jumped in surprise and turned to look at his drunk friend. A humoured smile spread across his lips and he gently shut the door behind Schlatt.

Wilbur laughed sweetly, "You always have to scare me like that, hm?"

"Only you, baby." Schlatt slurred, winking - albeit sloppily. He attempted to walk closer to the balcony but instead slipped on the way there. Wilbur caught him in his arms, a worried stare replacing the gentle smile he had previously.

"Jesus Schlatt, how many drinks have you had tonight?" Wilbur questioned the shorter boy, steadying him in his arms. Schlatt pushed himself further in Wilbur's arms, tangling himself around his neck with a sigh. He relished in the warmth, forgetting Wilbur's question immediately. 

Wilbur raised an eyebrow at the sudden hug, holding Schlatt by the waist distractedly, "Schlatt? M'dude?"

Schlatt felt a warmth run through his body when he felt his friend's hands on his waist. He shoved his head into the crook of his neck, mumbling against the pale skin, "..'M so drunk Wil."

An absent-minded giggle erupted from Schlatt, rumbling against Wilbur's chest.

"Yeah, I figured. Maybe it's time to head home, yeah?" Schlatt grumbled something incoherently disapproving, pulling himself shamefully from Wilbur's grasp and taking a good swig from his beer. Wilbur's eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, hey. No. No more beer."

He pulled the bottle out of Schlatt's weak grasp, ignoring the grumpy look in his eyes, "C'mon buddy, don't give me that look. We gotta get you home - you can crash at my place tonight."

Schlatt's face went from sour to sweet abruptly, smirking suggestively at Wilbur, who chose to ignore the look.

"Mmmf.. Wil.. 'S a bit fast hm?" Schlatt giggled knowingly, biting his lip while he stood swaying slightly. Wilbur rolled his eyes at the drunk man, smiling playfully.