monday pine; matty healy.

debates, bathroom locks and 3am.

"There's no way Elvis was better than Michael Jackson!" Matty accuses.

"Hey, isn't there a thing that Elvis is still alive?" Eliza pipes up, speaking for one of the first times tonight.

"Fuck no!" Matty slams his fist on the table and we laugh, "If Elvis is alive then so is MJ and they wouldn't even need a face-off because we all know who's better!"

"Alright mate, you have your way. Michael Jackson's the man." Alex lifts his hands in defeat.

The show finished about an hour ago and after we stumbled home in our tipsy states we made ourselves a circle in the living room and took out a box of Cards Against Humanity. Matty got really into the game and claimed all of his cards were the best (A/N: please tell me you've all seen this interview.) which caused us to get frustrated at his cockiness and put the game to the side after 20 minutes. Somehow, unbeknown to myself, Alex and Matty managed to get themselves caught up in an argument about who's better: Elvis or Michael Jackson. It wasn't settled easily, Matty egging me on to agree with him to which I obviously did a. because it's true and b. because tipsy Matty is too cute to say no to.

Ben stands up for a moment and arrives back in his spot a few seconds later with a bottle of wine: "Wine, anyone?" He says and Matty can't stop his hands from reaching over the circle and grabbing it. He passes it around the circle, to me first and I take a few sips.

"Oh come on Des! You can do better than that." He laughs.

I don't drink anymore despite his comments, I'd like to at least comprehend my own speech for the rest of the night. I excuse myself for a moment after passing the bottle on and I feel Matty's lost eyes trail after me like a child left at daycare for a day. I open the bathroom door and close it behind me, reaching for the lock but not soon enough because the door swings open again and Matty is standing in front of me. The door is now closed and locked thanks to the drunk, curly haired boy who's looking at me with a grin on his face.

"What?" I say, confused but slightly smiling back at his playful attitude: "I need to pee. Can you get out please?"

I reach for the door handle but he grabs my hands and quickly presses his lips to mine in one swift motion. My hands are in his hair just as fast and I'm pushing him against the door. It's as if his simple action has allowed me to forget the reason I left for the bathroom in the first place. Matty lifts my shirt slightly, placing his warm hands on my bare side. I press myself closer to him, knowing it's what he wants and knowing he isn't going to get any further than that. He groans at the contact and I pull away to laugh.

"I need to pee." I say, my hips still attached to his own.

"Then go." His breath smells of cigarettes and wine and up close I realise his teeth are an unruly mess, but I don't mind because I like the smell of cigarettes and my breath smells no less of wine than his own and his teeth complete his image so I can't complain.

"I'm not going while you're in here." I state matter-of-factly.

"I'm not going out there like this." He pulls his head away, keeping it just close enough that he doesn't hit it on the wooden door behind him.

"You should have thought about that before you came in here and kissed me." I smile, allowing a gap between our hips now and unraveling my arms from around his neck.

"I'll count to thirty and then I'm back in here. No locking the door." He places a quick kiss on my cheek and just to make sure I don't lock the door he holds the handle slightly twisted.

The thirty seconds are up in the middle of washing my hands and he softly opens the door and locks it as he had before.

"I don't know what you're expecting, Matty."