Drunken Confessions (DJ x Commander)

Drunken Confessions

It wasn't often where DJ would get drunk. In fact, it was practically impossible for the man to get drunk after a measly few sips of beer. He was the complete opposite of a lightweight. However, that doesn't mean he's incapable of intoxication.

Commander stepped out for a certain celebration party — they were celebrating the defeat of Umbra and her goons. He didn't feel like embarrassing himself in front of his team, knowing damn well he acted like a fool when drunk off his ass.

For a while, as the party went on, he spent his time doing paperwork in his office, faintly listening to the excited cheers from his team down the hall.

The noise eventually died down, leading Commander to assume that the whole event was over and everyone (hopefully) went to bed. He placed down his pen against his desk and began his trek over to the lobby, only intending to inspect the possible damage.

Thankfully, he was right. Practically everyone was already gone, save for a few towers chatting or giggling with one another as they walked out of the room. Commander recognized Pyromancer quietly waving to him as he passed. It was a usual sight, but one particular tower caught his eye: DJ.

DJ was sitting down on the couch with his arms draped over the top. It appeared as if he was attempting to take up as much space as he humanly could, which was a lot considering the size of his body itself. Though his effort in taking up space would be fairly useless as he was quite alone.

The leader walked over to the DJ, silently telling himself that he was simply going to tell DJ to get back to his quarters as it was way past curfew. DJ perked up at the sight of the shorter man and before Commander could speak, he began.

"What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing down here?" DJ purred. The question made Commander pause completely. "I thought you were gonna stay huddled up in that office of yours, Comm."

It was safe to say DJ was absolutely drunk. That completely destroyed all of Commander's original plan.

Commander was admittedly startled by his bold behavior, so he took a good minute to think of a response. He hoped DJ couldn't see the obvious shift in his usually stone cold demeanor. "You need to head back to your dorm. It's past your curfew." He gestured to a nearby clock, which DJ clearly couldn't read due to his state of drunkenness.

"Mm, not if I have something to do about it."

The hell does that even mean?

"I am your leader," Commander reminded. "You must listen to my orders." The drunk DJ was really struggling to comprehend what Commander was expressing, more focused on the fact that such a short man was his leader.

DJ rolled his head over to face Commander, a dopey grin on his lips. "If you're a leader, why are you so bite-sized?"

"I am not 'bite-sized'." Commander crossed his arms indignantly. He was staring down at DJ with an intense glare, not amused at his phrasing. Commander seemed to forget exactly what he was originally supposed to be doing the moment DJ brought up his size.

"Oh?"

A creak of the couch and a small grunt from DJ filled the room as he stood.

Although slouched just slightly, DJ easily towered over Commander by a plentiful amount. An intimidating shadow poured over the smaller man, causing him to swallow dryly. God, this man was bigger than he remembered. An odd feeling stirred inside Commander at the sight.

"You're soo red." That stupid, told-you-so smirk made Commander huff.

Ignoring that, Commander quickly cleared his throat and stepped back a bit so he could properly make eye contact with the man. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. You're getting back to your dorm. Now." He disguised his flustered feeling with a stern voice. Commander reached over to DJ and grabbed his arm, sucking in a breath at the feeling of firm muscle flexing under his palm. God. Dammit.