I'm Not as Think as You Drunk I Am

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(A/N; So this one is going to be using some things from The Drunk History video, Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time music video, and other various things from periscope so if you haven't yet, go watch them now! Also, I wrote this one to kind of go along with the previous imagine, and I hope it fits well with it. Enjoy!)

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'Beebo, where are you? It's late :(' 

'Baaabe?'

'Brendon I'm starting to worry about you, please text me back.'

Brendon told me he'd be home before midnight, but now it was reaching closer to one-thirty. I paced around the house, trying to get a hold of him or any of the guys. He had a long day of writing and I told him that I'd stay home and he could have a guy's night. I asked him to be home at a reasonable time because I worked a full day today and was only going to sleep when he got home. It felt like a decade passed before I felt my phone vibrate again. 

'Y/n, it's Dallon. Brendon is suuuuper drunk, I'm bringing him home right now.'  Knowing how Brendon gets sometimes, I had expected him to be shitfaced. But what walked through the door minutes later was something I hadn't seen in quite a long time. He staggered in loudly, with Dallon following slowly behind him. 

"Baaabe! Holy shiddd it's me dat boy! Whaaaddduuuup?" He slurred, causing my annoyance in him to rise significantly. He knew he could only drink so much, but he always chose to push his limits. I gave Dallon an angry look. He could have stopped him but he didn't. I don't think these boys realize that alcohol poisoning is a real thing that happens and they could definitely get it. I decide not to say anything to Brendon just yet, afraid that I might just flip out. 

"Thanks Dallon. Get home safe." I say sternly, dragging my boyfriend to the kitchen and shooing him out. Dallon follows us, much to my distaste. 

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that he drank that much. I can help you get him to bed if you want." I angrily shake my head no. I don't really want to deal with him anymore than I have today. I tell him to get home safe right before he closes the door. What? I'm not a monster. 

"Bye fuckboy!" Brendon calls after him. I pour him a glass of water and give him some crackers to try to sober him up as much as possible. The next thing I know, he's bent over the trash can, throwing up his guts. I rub his back and he groans. He takes a few steps back and looks around the room very carefully, smelling the area around him before looking down at his shirt. "What is this? What's all over my shirt baby?" I walk over and take the damp material off before throwing it into the sink and starting to scrub at it. 

"It looks like you dumped beer all over it. This was one of your good shirts," I say coldly. This was the shirt I'd bought him for his birthday last year, and now a yellow stain across the front ruined it. I hear him stumble around the counter to stand beside me. He sneakily tries to kiss me but I turn away from him. He pushes out his bottom lip and I frown at him. I don't mean to be a bitch about this, but I can't help it. He knows how worried I get about him and he continues to do stuff like this, it gets so tiring after a while. 

I guide him out of the kitchen and dispose of the shirt, knowing that no amount of soap would restore it. I help him up the steps and into our room, and he collapses onto the bed. I unbuckle his belt and pull down his tight black jeans which causes him to laugh.

"Y/n, I can barely stand right now, I can't do that either, even though I want to," I choose to ignore his comments and head to the drawer to get him some different clothes. "Actually, I'm not as think as you drunk I am. I think I can do this." He pulls me down on top of him when I get close again, but I'm much stronger than him in his intoxicated state. I push off of him and struggle to put the shorts on him. He sighs in frustration at my lack of reaction. He turns over to his side and pretends to pout again. I simply head for the door, not wanting to deal with this anymore. "I love you baby." My breath hitches in my throat and I cough, unsure of what to do in response. This was the first time either of us had used the L word towards each other. I just assumed that it was just drunk speech, I mean, he did once ask Kenny to marry him and have his babies while he was drunk. I continued to the door and closed it nicely behind me.

"Goodnight Brendon," was the last thing I said to him before I went downstairs to the couch. I struggled to get comfortable, the first reason being that it was very uncomfortable for sleeping, and the second being that I didn't have Brendon to cuddle with. I thought about going back up and forgiving him, but I soon heard snores coming from the stairs and knew he was asleep.

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I hear loud gags from upstairs and I run up to the bathroom. I already knew what I was going to find, it was just a matter of time. I helped him through the intense vomiting and gave him some mouthwash when he was finished. 

"Was I bad last night? I feel like shit," He asks and I get him a painkiller from the cabinet above the sink. I don't respond as first, which causes him to sigh and touch the back of my calve. "I'm sorry babe." I hand him the drug and wait for him to take it, contemplating my next few words. I decide to ignore the 'I love you' part and tell him the other events that took place.

"It was the shirt I got you, too. I spent so long trying to find it and now it's trashed." I didn't want to give him a guilt trip about it, but I also wasn't ready to let it go. He'd seen the shirt at some store in Texas a while ago, and I'd spent hours searching for it online and even paying extra for shipping just so he'd get it on time. If you couldn't tell, that was when I had a major crush on him, just a few weeks before he asked me out. He apologized profusely but I just shook my head.

"I'm serious Y/n. I won't ever do that to you again. I missed you last night, but I just remembered seeing the disappointed look on your face and I knew not to come down after you." He rubbed his thumb against my hand, impatiently waiting for an answer.

"Brendon, it's whatever. I'm upset. But I'm glad you got home safe, so you better thank Dallon for that. I just wish you'd learn from the way you feel right now."

"I will. After last night, I'm not going to come home that drunk ever again." 

"I need you to prove that to me." 

"I will, Y/n. I... nevermind." He was going to say it, I know it. But my current attitude made him stop. Did he not think I loved him back? I grabbed his hand and lead him back to the bedroom, checking the clock and seeing that it was just after 8. I still had a few hours that I could spend sleeping. He held onto me tightly, knowing that I was hurt. I knew that I'd get over the whole shirt thing soon, it was just a piece of clothing. I won't mention it again, I just want to forget that it existed. I didn't want to spend my one day off arguing with him about something so petty.  I kissed his lips briefly before falling asleep against his chest.

///Brendon Urie Imagines///Where stories live. Discover now