recreational idiocy | wilbur soot

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐞

𝐯𝐢𝐚

"alright georgie c'mon," i say as soothingly as i can while prying an empty shot glass from his grip, "we're going home, okay?" 

i get his arm over my shoulder with surprisingly little effort and pull him up with me, praying to all the gods i can think of that he won't get sick on my new top.

"my head hurts." he groans, taking staggering steps with me to the exit, wilbur close behind us. he's carrying caddy like a baby with her head tucked behind his shoulder, because as soon as we'd turned back to check on on her and george, she'd fallen asleep.

"i know, i'm so sorry. maybe next time let's go easy on drinks then, yeah?" he nods at this propostion immediately, and i know he regrets drinking so much. i open the door for all of us, and as soon as we step outside, george vomits into one of the potted plants stationed outside the exit.

i rub his back while he continues being sick, immediately grateful that he had the grace to move away from me before he could get any of that on my shirt. "you're alright now, yeah? ready to go?" i ask, motioning at wilbur to go ahead while i deal with our friend. george nods and stands up on his own, declining my offer for help with a swat of his hand.

"i think i can make it back to my car on my own if you drive it to your place," he says as coherently as he can in his state. "i don't want to leave it here." he tosses me the set of keys from his pocket and starts making his way over to where the car is parked.

we catch up to wil and explain that we'll be taking george's car instead, which stirs caddy from her sleep. "thank god- i don't want lucy to have to see this," she mumbles.

"lucy is her car," i explain when wil tosses me a questioning look, which makes george smile. wilbur nods, though the look of confusion doesn't leave his face. "she named her car," he mouths to himself incredulously.

he sets caddy down in the backseat as soon as i unlock the car, making sure that she sits up straight with her head turned to the side in case she needs to be sick as well. i help george into the back with her, and he falls asleep as soon as he gets into a comfortable position, his last words being "don't kill my car."

we leave the windows down for our charges, because fresh air is probably the best thing for them at the moment. well... semi-fresh air, at least, i think to myself as i close the backdoor and go around to the back, where wil is leaning against the trunk of the car.

"fun night, huh?" i say, standing next to him and looking up at the sky above us, trying to find a star. "i guess you could say that," he responds, moving his arm around me.

"i'm so glad you're here," i say honestly. i have no idea what i would have done if he wasn't. "yeah?" he asks rhetorically, taking my hairtie from my wrist before tucking my hair behind my ears and moving it back into a ponytail.

"you're so pretty, via" he intones quietly, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "and i'm so tired.." he says that last part while pulling me into a hug, though the height difference makes it so that his body fully encompasses mine, and i'm practically swallowed whole by his presence.

"let's go back home then, love" i say, pulling away just slightly. i'm sure everyone would like to sleep in a bed tonight, and i feel like if i don't start driving soon we'll all just kip in george's parked car.

"home?" he asks, the side of his mouth quirking up in a crooked half smile. i open my mouth to try and backtrack, but i'm interrupted by the sound of talking in the car. i wiggle out of wil's arms to go check if my friends are okay, and i'm met by the low sound of a very tired american speaking through george's phone.

"clay?" i ask tentatively, wondering if he knows just how plastered (and probably exhausted) his caller is at the moment.

"is that via? george, give her the phone." he says. george slowly hands over the device, though not without rolling his eyes. it's clear he doesn't particularly like being bossed around so easily by someone who's not even in the same country as us.

"hello?" i ask, putting the phone up to my ear and going back around to the trunk of the car. "who is it?" wilbur mouths, gesturing at the phone.

"clay" i mouth back, putting him on speaker just as he starts talking. "you meet him one time and he gets shitfaced at the bar." clay says, feigning disappointment. "how the hell does that happen?"

"it wasn't my fault," i say quickly, "caddy was his accomplice, not me."

this statement causes wilbur to laugh, which clay hears and immediately asks for me to hand him the phone. "fine. later, claydream" i say, getting into the driver's seat once i give it to him.

i hand back water bottles from my bag to my now-awake mates, which gets me much praise, and adjust the seat while wil talks to clay about god-knows-what. immediately after turning on the car, i queue up a soft playlist so as not to hurt the heads of my dear drunk passengers.

"don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed

i'll make a cup of coffee for your head

i'll get you up and going out of bed"

i sing along quietly, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. after the song is nearly over and i'm absentmindedly scrolling through twitter, wilbur finally gets in the car, handing george his phone, and we set off toward home.

twitter

Wilbur Soot  @wilbursoot • 2m •••

i think maybe daddy dream is a bit disappointed in us at the moment.

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