I'm Only Having Fun! - A Pete x Mike W. Story (WGO)

"I'm not your parent-"

Mike stumbles into his own house, the only thing keeping him up being Pete's strong grip on his arm.

"I can't stay for long, I've got to go see Stan on the farm.." They trail off, pulling out their phone.

"Peetee please stayy!" Mike whines before being set onto the living room couch.

Pete idly text Stan, struggling to find the exact words to say.

"Hey Stan, sorry I left so suddenly. I'm staying at the vampire dork's house for right now. He ought to sober up tonight, but I need to see how strong the stuff was."

They hesitate, but eventually press send on the message.

"Now, where the hell is your alcohol?!"

"Nnooowhere~" Mike giggles.

"I'm not a cop, Mike, just fucking tell me!"

"Ughhh" Mike groans, "Under the kitchen sink.."

Pete walks into the kitchen, trusting Mike to not make a fool of himself for 10 seconds. They grab the handle to the cabinet under the sink, and pull it open. "What the hell..?"

The only thing that sat in the corner of the cabinet was a few plastic water bottles, some knocked over.

"Hey idiot, these are water bottles. Where's the alcohol?!" Pete shouts.

"ITS IN THERE!" Mike yells from the adjacent room.

Pete rolls their eyes, and takes a bottle for themselves. "What a dumbass.." They mumble, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

They cough when they make the revelation. There's vodka in these- Who the hell puts vodka in water bottles?! Pete quickly stands up and spits the remaining liquid from their mouth into the sink. They never liked the taste of alcohol.

Mike finally comes into the kitchen. "Seee?" He says, giggling to himself. "Why are they in water bottles?!" Pete muttered, screwing the cap back on.

"I DINT DO IT!" Mike raised his voice, but then laughed to himself again. Pete raises an eyebrow. "Then who did?-"

Just then, Mike collapsed on the kitchen tile with a groan, yet he still smiled drunkly. "Oh my Satan.." Pete sighed and crouched down on the floor, putting a single hand on the back of Mike's head.

"You alright?" They asked quietly. Mike responds with a somewhat content noise.

Pete grab both of their hands, lifting him up off the floor. They sling his arm around their shoulder with an annoyed look. "Don't you dare throw up on me.."

Pete brings Mike into his bedroom, and lays him onto the bed. They get up and go the restroom, grabbing a trash bin.

They set the bin next to his bed. "If you're gunna throw up, do it in here." Mike didn't speak, he just lied there, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes.

Pete reluctantly sat at the end of Mike's bed, getting out their phone again. They received a text back from Stan, that read;

"It's fine. Should we be worried about him? Is he okay?"

Pete smiled at the sentimental message. They began typing away, as Mike let out another groan.

"Pete.. Can you stay the niight?"

"Mike, I already told you, I have to go to the farm with Stan." Pete felt like they were some kind of parent to Mike. They weren't exactly used to taking care of people, but they tried their best. They've yet to figure out who spiked his water, but they thought that they'd get to that later. Mike is the #1 priority now.

Stan looked at his watch. His dad was coming to pick him up and minute, and Pete still hadn't gotten back. He assumed by now that they weren't coming back, they had Mike to worry about anyway.

Stan and Tweek talked away, something about the coffee shop. Stan's plan was that he would get his dad to drop Tweek off at the shop.

After about 5 minutes, his dad pulled up in front of the boys.

"Tweek, you coming to the farm?" Randy rolled down his window and asked.

"No, I'm- eh!- I was gunna ask if I can get dropped off at work?" Tweek picked at a scab on his wrist, getting closer to the car now.

"That's fine, Tweek." Randy forced a smile. Tweek and Stan got in the back seat, still talking about something Randy didn't care enough to listen in on.