Manthony ✨

Drunk

~DRUNK~

ATTENTION: This is FANFICTION and none of this is CONFIRMED. No hate to ANY of the Chase Atlantic members or their girlfriends, please! Enjoy <3

Mention of a Chase Atlantic song The Walls

~Mitchel~

He floors the gas pedal and we're speeding down the road. I'm not sure he's aware I'm still on the floor of the backseat since he told me to "get down". I'm struggling to get up, as I'm kind of stuck and he makes a sharp turn, freeing me, but at a cost. My body slams against the car door and I yelp,

"Slow down, Christian!" I yell and finally manage to get into my chair, my fingers scrambling for the seatbelt and buckling myself up,

"You weren't buckled in?" He asks, clearly hearing the click of the belt,

"No, I was stuck on the floor," I say and he makes another turn, going slower now,

"There was a lady in there," he starts to explain, "She asked me if you were with me and I said no and she said I was lying and then once you were gone," he catches his breath, "She grabbed me and smiled saying that she knew I was lying," he eventually parks in a public parking garage and stays there. I just sit in the backseat and ponder what the hell he just told me. Somebody wanted to know if I was with Christian? Well, I mean, in this kind of way?

"Creepy," is all I say before I unbuckle my seatbelt and lay down in the backseat, stretching out my legs,

"That's all you have to say for yourself?" He asks, unbuckling his restraint and turning to look at me,

"I mean, what else do I say? Oh no, the creepy lady is out to get me?" I ask and he frowns,

"I'm just trying to protect you, your fame freaks me out," he says and I prop myself on my elbows,

"Christian, you're right alongside me on that note," I counter and he sighs,

"Yeah, I know," he turns the music down and reclines his chair a bit, "We're staying here until I feel like it's okay to go," he decides, "I don't need anyone following us home," he finishes, "And I also don't want to spend a lot of time around your brother because he now knows I fuck you," he adds and I know it was on his mind,

"I really don't mind-" I start but he turns around again,

"I mind, Mitchel, I mind," his voice is strained,

"I know," I say quietly and just stare at the ceiling of his car. I think about the new song I started, "The Walls," I say and he turns around, annoyed,

"What the fuck you talking about?" He asks and I roll my eyes,

"I'm calling the song I sang for you earlier The Walls," I tell him and slap his arm,

"Oh," he says and runs a hand through his hair,

"What's wrong with you tonight?" I ask and he sighs,

"It's really bothering me," he says and doesn't elaborate so I act like the dumbass I am,

"What is?" I ask and he crawls into the backseat,

"Clinton knowing," he says and plays with the rings on his fingers,

"Christian," I groan and sink lower into the seat. I can hear him sigh again and really want the beer he bought now, "Where's the beer at?" I ask and he points to the passenger seat. I crawl halfway through and start digging for the bottles when I feel his hands on my hips, tight,

"Get me one," he says and I grab two, not feeling hungry for any of the food,

"Here," I hand him one and we both open it, clinking them together as if saying cheers. We take sips and I'm almost done with mine in a few swigs,

"Slow down," he says but I'm on a roll and down the thing. He shakes his head and I drop the bottle on the floor, "Don't you leave your shit in my car," he warns, taking another sip,

"Hurry up slowpoke," I tease and he splashes some beer in my face. I run my tongue over my lips and he takes another sip, "No, seriously," I say and lean against the door, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around my shins,

"Why?" He asks, dragging the word, grinning,

"You know why," I say quietly and he downs his bottle and reaches over the passenger seat and locks the car door. I feel my head spin from the alcohol. I feel his hands on mine. I want more alcohol. I feel dizzy in the best way. He pulls my legs down from under me and leaves me leaning against the door, sitting at the end of my feet,

"Why, again?" He asks, smirking and I realize now I shouldn't have drank that beer that fast because now I'm drunk and he's not there yet. He knows he can get what he wants out of me when I'm drunk,

"I wanna fuck," I say and feel my dick press against my pants,

"Do you?" He asks and my head is running in fucking circles. I'm out of control,

"Yes," I slur and he lets his fingers crawl from my shins to my thighs, all the way to my hips and the waistband of my tight jeans where he pauses and sighs,

"I know, but how about we get you sobered up and do this later?" He says and I frown, but he's probably right,

"Okay," I sigh and lay down on the car seat,

"Hey, whoa whoa, sit up, you needa wear your seat belt," he says and has me sit up, buckling me in,

"Get...rest...mkay?" His words are muddled in my ears and all I can say is something I don't even understand. He just smiles and turns around, getting into the driver's seat, "Get...home..." His words about getting back home are the last thing I hear before I black out in the backseat of his car.