Hiddlebatch one shot(s)

Oui

A/N: Drunk!Tom and Sober!Ben.

Benedict.
Tom had, had a few too many, that much was obvious. He could barely stand without me holding him up and guiding him. Whenever I would try to lead him to his bed he would only moan, "I'm fucking pissed man. Let me stay on my couch!" He groaned drunkenly at me waving his arms. I raised an eyebrow and held out my hand, "Tom. You're on the floor, let me help you to the bed." I pull him up and he almost falls over again in a giggling mess, lucky for him I grabbed him, holding him close to help him. "No! Take me to the couch!" He yelled, giggling so hard I thought I'd die, that's the thing about Tom his laughter was overly contagious. I gave in and helped him onto the couch and attempted to get him to lay down.

Tom.
Everything in the room spun with each step and I was trying to focus on the whole- walking and staying awake to talk to Ben but the levels of alcohol in me were so high I couldn't move without laughing at myself. Ben laid me on the couch but I resisted knowing it'd make me pass out, "Jesus Christ, Benedict! if that hand was any lower you'd be blowing me!" I slurred and then covered my mouth, letting out a hiccup, "Shit! was that aloud?" I gulp. Ben smiles lightly, "It's okay, Tom. Just lie down." he pleads, moving his hand upwards. I felt a spark go down my spine and grabbed his hand, pulling him down without a thought or regret.

Ben.
I could feel his hand against my own feeling a quick shock between us. I feel like somewhere inside me I already knew it was going to happen eventually, drunk or not. I wasn't, however, expecting him to pull me down on top of his own body. I could feel his muscles through his thin, button down, sky-blue shirt and it only made me want to pull it off. I might be sober but I'm not stupid, Tom had been the only person I wanted for years and I wasn't going to act now, he wouldn't remember anything anyways. I don't plan on hurting or taking advantage of him, but I can let up on my faking straight act. Well, to a point. I'd never let him know I wasn't straight, "Hey." he mumbled drunkenly in my ear, I shivered and put my arms on either side of his body knowing he wouldn't let me get off, "What I wouldn't give to have you right here." Tom slurred.
A small blush crept up my cheeks and covered my body, he moved his head from my ear to my face and stared, "Anyone tell you your eyes are fucking sexy." he put a hand on my chest and pulled me in, "mostly you." I retort. He snickers and looks into my eyes for a little longer, giving me an excuse to stare back.

Tom.
Gay, straight, bi- it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was the fact that I could possibly be getting some from him tonight. God if I could I'd tear off all those clothes right now, I felt dirty thinking those things but at least now I have an excuse.
I leaned in as close as my body would let me without kissing him, "Anyone ever tell you your eyes are fucking sexy." I slur at him, my mouth went dry with each word, my head signing in pain. He smiled lightly at me, making me feel a bit more comfortable, I pull him in closer until our lips move against each other with each word. "Mostly you." He smirks. I put a hand on his thigh, twisting my wrist so that my fingers are inward towards his- well.
His body shivers and I watch his pupils get bigger with each passing second, "I'm break this tension and kiss you, okay?" his eyes widen but he doesn't say a single word.

Ben.
I could feel his mouth mine, moving in synchronous with mine. His mouth was sweet, like a fruity drink and as if he had, had a bit of candy too. I felt a hand move to my back and under my shirt, pressing down on my bare skin. His fingers were warm but not sweaty and they felt like heaven across me. I pulled away so that I could breathe and tell him something that would cover me.
My breaths were staggered and shaky, "Tom. I'm not gay." I huff, which isn't a lie, I would consider myself a- bisexual with a male preference who dates women as a cover up because my boss said 'I should for now and that I could fuck any guy whenever but had to look like I was dating her'.- confusing as hell.
Tom's mouth spread against my neck, sucking small marks on my neck, "Well you did kiss back, mr. hands." he huffs in a low voice, "Don't worry I won't tell." I want to object but I can't, I knew he was right. Thoughts run through my mind of how to go about this but the only one that seems to stay is staying where I am and kissing him again, "Whatever." I say quietly, he moves his other hand from my thigh to my neck and pulls me in again, "I never said you could do anything." I tease, "You're drunk. What makes you think I want your drunk ass making out with me." Tom sighs and looks at me, "Please may I press ye lips upon mine. Thou lips art so soft that I crave them gainst thy own. I wish to feel ye's heat." Tom persisted, "I wish to feel thy kiss. May I kiss thee?" I smiled, rolling my eyes, "How do you go from drunk to olde English?" I take his chin in my hands and watch him shrug. "S'il vous plaît embrassez-moi." (Please kiss me.) 

         His eyes looked directly at my lips and I could feel the tension between our bodies begin to fill the air making my breath hitch, "Je suppose que je le pouvais. Si vous jurez de prendre lent." (I suppose I could. If you swear to take it slow.) I watch a smile form on his face and he leans in, his mouth greeting mine quickly. I could feel his hands grazing my skin gently making all of my senses turn on with  each passing second."I loved you first: but afterwards your love  Out soaring mine, sang such a loftier song As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove. Which owes the other most? my love was long, And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong; I loved and guessed at you, you construed me And loved me for what might or might not be – Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong. For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine; With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,  For one is both and both are one in love Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine; Both have the strength and both the length thereof, Both of us, of the love which makes us one." Tom whispers in my ear. His voice was low and nearly hoarse mumbling each string of poetry like a song, "You're using poetry to turn me on? God you're so British." I snicker back, using sarcasm to cover the cracking of my voice, "Is it working?" He asks me, staring into my eyes, "oui." (Yes...) I mutter back.

Tom.

      I could mumble poetry all night, if that meant he'd continue being this close to me, " Oh, vraiment. Je sais que beaucoup plus de poèmes. Comment vous sentez-vous à propos de Shakespeare?" (Oh really. I know many more poems. How do you feel about shakespeare?) He kisses me again, this time with more force, his hands finding their way around me, "Oui." he says breathy, as quickly as his mouth would let him get out. 

       I try to remember something Shakespeare had written but my mind was so full with other- thoughts- I could only remember fragments. I believed it was Sonnet 40 but I hadn't got an idea anymore. "Prenez tous mes amours, mon amour, oui, tous les prendre: Qu'as-tu donc plus que tu avais avant?" (Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all: What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?) Ben pushed himself against me in a grinding way and moaned quietly, "You- oh my god Tom. That was so fucking hot. Where did you even learn that? How do you do that drunk?" I press my mouth against his and dig my nails into his back making him moan even louder, "Jésus qui est si chaud." I say back, "Tom, tell me how you do that. God I want you." His breath is heavy as he pulls away, "Je ne le dirai jamais" I mumble back, my mouth moving to his neck. His breath hitches, "I feel like a teenager." I say breathilly. He doesn't reply instead he just looks up and shakes his head yes, closing his eyes, "vous êtes fou" (You're crazy.) He replies to me. I was already the alcohol start to wear off and begin to be replaced with a bad migraine. I had felt the alcohol begin to wear off when Ben had came over, I had been drunk earlier and the alcohol had began to wear off after I had thrown up. Not that I'd tell him that. 

Ben.

    No way he was drunk anymore, I had picked that up already, I could care less though. I knew what was going to happen when he pulled me on the couch. I knew we'd end up together eventually, well I hadn't pictured this. I don't mind though, it didn't matter for me. 

"chambre à coucher?" I ask him finally, he smiles, and nods, "Oui."