Hangovers and Anxiety Cuddles. (Larry x Travis)

Hangovers and Anxiety Part 1.

Larry's POV:

             I woke up to my alarm blaring loudly from my nightstand near my bed. Ugh, I had a horrible hangover from last night's futz. My head was pounding and I could barely think straight. The last thing I remember from the previous night was Sally telling me to chug a full bottle of booze before I eventually passed out. God, I was so wasted.

"Larbear! Wake up or you'll be late for school again!" I heard my mother scream from the living room. I groaned and groggily got out of bed, stumbling towards my dresser and pulling out a clean pair of black jeans, black Metallica shirt and boxers. I changed and grabbed a hair tie, pulling my long, brown, messy hair up into a disheveled bun. I opened the door to my bedroom and walked into the bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face before exiting and putting on some shoes and a hoodie.

Sal was already up and dressed, waiting for me at the bus stop.

"Hey Sal." I waved, my voice a bit raspy. Probably because of smoking too much weed last night.

"Hey Larry face." Sal said cheerfully. He seemed like he was in a good mood this morning. I know I couldn't see his face due to the prosthetic, but I could tell he was smiling underneath it. The bus arrived and Sal and I hopped in. It was crowded, as usual, but it didn't take long to find two empty seats in the back. I let Sal have the window seat.

"It's so gloomy out." Sal mumbles, turning to look at me.
"Yeah, I guess...ugh, I have the worst hangover right now." I groaned, placing my head in my hands. The sound of the other kids screaming and chatting wasn't helping either.

"Oh yeah. I totally forgot you chugged that whole thing!" Sal laughed softly, turning his head to look out the window again.
"And whose fault is that?" I teased, shoving Sal in the shoulder playfully, not enough to hurt him but enough to cause him to swat my hand away. The rest of the ride to school was quiet, leaving me alone with my throbbing headache and thoughts. Why did I drink so much? I bet I reek of alcohol and weed. God, I should've taken a shower before getting dressed. Too late now.

My thoughts were quickly interrupted when the bus came to an abrupt stop. Me and Sal exited and walked into the school. 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗶𝘀. I fucking hate that religious nut. He was standing near his locker, rummaging through it. The hell was he looking for? Whatever it was I couldn't care less.

"Larry? You alright?" Sal asked, opening his locker.
"Huh—?"
"You're staring at Travis. You okay?"
"Oh, yeah. I just hate that fucker." I snarled, turning to open my locker. I glared at Travis once more before going to class.

(Time skip—Lunchtime.)

Class finally ended and it was lunchtime. My head was still pounding so I grabbed a pack of cigarettes from my bag and went outside to smoke before meeting up with Sal, Ashley and Todd at lunch. I took a long drag, exhaling the smoke into the cold, crisp air. It felt like I was exhaling all my stresses and worries away. Why did I listen to Sal? I shouldn't have chugged that whole damn thing after already drinking way more than I could handle. Fuck, I wish I skipped school today, but my mom wasn't feeling the best and decided to take the day off and I would've gotten scolded.

Suddenly, I heard the door open. Holy fuck. It was fucking Phelps. He stared at me blankly, a bit surprised to see me here.

"What do you want, Travis?" I snarled, glaring at him.
"Getting some fresh air. The hell are you doing here, fag?" Travis argued back, crossing his arms across his chest.

"None of your goddamn business." I rolled my eyes, taking another drag off the cigarette.
"Stop being such a pussy about life and put that cigarette out." Travis rebutdtaled. "God will never accept a pot head like you."

The hell was this Jesus loving fucker saying to me? That's it, I was already stressed out and Phelps was making my day worse than it already was. I grabbed the collar of his shirt, leaning down to whisper in his ear:
"Phelps, I'm not in the mood to deal with your shit today. Either go fuck off or get your ass beat."

Travis turned his head away, trying to pry my hands off of his collar.

"Let go of me, faggo—!"
Before Travis could finish his sentence, I pushed him against the brick wall, causing him to gasp for air. He yanked my hair, causing me to slightly loosen my grip on his shirt. Travis took a step to the side, trying to pull himself away but I grabbed the back of his sweatshirt—
Shit. Before I knew it, I slipped on the freshly cut grass.

(Cliffhanger 😍🫰)