The Long Way Home

Twenty

I spent the whole weekend super sick and now I basically need to relearn everything I did over the past five months of math in order to pass my supplementary exam so I don't have to take math ever again. Why does god hate me?

The party wasn't bad.
But it wasn't bomb ass like he had hoped.
But there was plenty of alcohol.
"Who zhe hell is hosting zhis zhing, anyvay?" Gilbert asked. The pair was in the kitchen next to coolers and ice buckets filled with fermented liquids.
"No feckin idea, b'y."
"Vhat?"
"Je savoir pas!"
"Huh?"
"Quoi?"
"I don't speak French."
"Hey, let's make the most fucked up drink ever and then the other person has to drink it."
"Is zhis a drinking game?"
"Yeah."
"Zhere doesn't seem to be any winners in zhis game."
"You win if you can drink it all."
"It von't be vinning in zhe morning."
"It's a good thing the night is still young, then, isn't it?"
"Fine. I'm in."
"Prepare to get master plastered, ya bastard."
"Vhat?"
"Shhhh. Make booze."
"Alright. Alright." Gilbert started looking through the pop selection. Matthew grabbed Cranberry pop, ginger ale, and beer. He poured it all in a glass and then added a shot of whiskey and a single grape.
"Done!" He declared.
"Me too." Gilbert lifted a brownish liquid.
"Wanna go outside and drink them?"
"Vhy?"
"Drinks taste better outside."
"True. Let's go."
"Grab some beers so we don't have to come back inside."
"Right."
The two gathered what they would need and slipped through the back door and onto the deck.
"Nice pool." Gilbert whistled at the massive body of water taking up this person's back yard. How high class was this writer? They must have been prestigious.
"Let's skinny dip."
"No!"
"Awwwwe! But Gilly!"
"Shhh. Maybe later."
"Yay!"
"Let's sit on zhe edge of zhe vater, zhough."
"Yes!" Matthew set all the liquor down next to the pool and dropped down beside it all. Gilbert did the same, handing Matthew the drink he had made.
"Okay. Try zhis."
"Here's yours."
"On zhe count of zhree?"
"Un, deux, trois."
The pair both started on their drinks. Gilbert choked his down painfully and Matthew sipped his calmly.
"This is actually pretty good." He complemented as Gilbert spit the last bit of his into the water.
"BEER IS NOT A MIXING DRINK!"
"I know. That's why I mixed it."
"Vhy vas zhere a grape in it?"
"You're supposed to eat the grape. It's called 'drinking with class'."
"It's called 'drunk people shouldn't mix drinks'."
"You wound me!"
"Hand me one of zhose beers so I can wash zhe taste of zhis shit out of mein mouzh."
"Only if you tell me what was in my drink." Matthew bargained, downing the last of his glass.
"Vodka, root beer, und lemonade."
"Oh no." Matthew felt a sick twist in his stomach.
"Vhat? Vhat's vrong?"
"It's just...the last thing Al drank before he...it was this."
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know."
Matthew took a deep breath, composing himself.
"I forgive you. Let's get so drunk we can't remember our names."
"Sounds like a plan." Gilbert smirked, grabbing a beer and guzzling it down in seconds.
The two cleaned house surprisingly quick. Soon they were surrounded in empty glass bottles. Feet submerged in the pool water. Matthew felt so warm and fuzzy. It was nice. He really didn't do this enough. Gilbert looked so shiny, his skin so smooth.
"I want your babies." Matthew blurted without trying. His hand wandered across Gilbert's thigh, exploring the great unknown. He wanted to get lost in the Prussian's wilderness.
"Now, Matthew, I am a married woman." Gilbert held his hand to his chest.
"Bull-shart!"
"Jou're right." The albino leaned in, pressing his lips onto Matthew's. The Canadian sighed happily. His body was so alive with feelings.
"Wait....we can't do this..." Matthew said after they pulled away. "Somebody might see us."
Gilbert grinned, taking Matthew by the hand.
"Let's go find a bedroom, then."