A/N
Welp, this ship came from the depths of the chunky virtual cum tub lodged deep inside the crevices of Humpty's brain. Welcome peepers :)
•••
A mass amount of shots, and probably a couple hookups later, there he was, Lil Nas, puking his brains out, hands clutching the rim of the toilet bowl for dear life, the gory sounds of his retching, hurling and gagging filling the empty, dimly-lit club bathroom he was currently regurgitating in.
After what seemed like the last of his rather disgustingly warm stomach fluids escaping his throat and seeping out his mouth, he'd flushed the semi-digested food down the drain. Lil Nas crawled onto the toilet seat and sat down, sighing heavily, propping his elbows atop his knees and burying his heavy head into his somewhat puke-stained hands.
But he was way too drunk to even notice, or care at that point to wash them and reveled in the vomit-inducing scent that seemed more far away than it actually was. That was, until a particular set of words caught his eye, his drunkenness wavered away from him slightly as he focused on the phrase before him.
'Call for a good time :)' followed by a phone number. It was written in black messy handwriting that seemed drunkenly scrawled onto the blank surface behind the stall door.
Curiosity peaked Lil Nas as he itched to get his phone and call the mysterious number. Digging through his jean's pocket, searching for his phone, he then typed in the numbers and warily pressed the call button.
"-my mom says I have overactive sweat glands, shut up, Jimmy." a small, squeaky voice spoke on the other end.
"Yo chat, what?"
"Huh?"
"What?"
"Who is this?"
"Who's this?"
"Buddy, you're the one that called me."
"What?"
"Bazinga."
And just like that, the line went dead.
"Uhhhhh," Lil Nas drunkenly slurred, was he that high?
"What the flip guys." he said to the empty bathroom stall and his seemingly invisible audience. The audience did crack up though, he's real funny like that.
Something was in the air that night though, so he dialed yet again, a sudden wave of determination washing over his already drunken conscience.
After the third ring, the mystery man picked up again.
"..."
"Come home, the kids miss you." Lil Nas quietly snickered; he was definitely gonna use that when his sold-out stand-up comedy show was a hit.
"What the fuck dude."
"Soy milk is just not the same," he sniffled, somewhat convincingly, "bring the full fat, please."
"What even i-"
"Molly failed her prostate exam and little Johnnie got mauled by a rabid ice cream truck, and if you don't come home soon, I'll be lactose intolerant." he whined.
The audience was practically already shedding tears and doubling over with laughter, Lil Nas gave them a humble little bow.
"What the hell man, fuck you."
"Maybe later, but I am serious about the full fat, that soy shit fuckin' sucks."
"Kill yourself." the person on the other line spat, and yet again, Lil Nas was sadly hung up on.
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