"Stop drinking," Draven hissed irritatedly, watching Eric gulp another shot from his whiskey bottle. With one hand on the steering wheel, his other reached over and attempted to grab the bottle, but Eric moved away from him. "You've drank too much Eric."
"At least I'm not the one drunk driving like you are right now," he mumbled.
"I'm sober, my last shot was like an hour ago."
"Whatever," Eric said, closing the bottle with its cap before opening the other one.
Draven instantly pulled aside, stopping the car before reaching over to Eric, he finished his shot rapidly and slouched over to stop Draven from grabbing the bottles.
Draven released his seatbelt, "Give me those bottles—"
"No," he resisted, releasing his own seatbelt and squeezing against the car door, trying to stop Draven from getting them.
Draven knew all off Eric's weaknesses, and with a malicious smile, his fingers found all the spots he knew would cause Eric to burst into laughter. His middle back, the back of his neck, right underneath his armpit; Draven was tickling as many as he could, and Eric began squirming in hysterical laughs.
"Alright fine, you win!" he exclaimed, handing them to Draven, "You win!"
Both of them were chuckling, and it was only then that they realized their faces were quite near one another. It was Draven who distanced himself, grabbing the bottles and pushing them at his feet to prevent Eric from reaching them.
However, there was a knock on the window, and when they turned, a police officer with their flashlight stared inside the vehicle, waving his hand politely.
"Great, look what you've done Eric—"
"I never told you to stop the car," Eric mumbled, resisting the urge to smile.
"Hey officer," Draven greeted, his spine straightened as he stared the flashlight. "Sorry, we were just playing around."
The officer raised an eyebrow, then pure shock formed on his face. His bottom lip began trembling, "Oh goodness gracious—aren't you Draven H. Malcom?"
Draven scratched the side of his face, knowing this was going to follow them on news reportage soon enough. The officer leaned sideways to have a glance at the passenger, and his eyes widened even more when he realized who it was. And Eric had no shame, drunkenly waving his hand with a long bright smile, "Eric Valence!"
"Hi!" Eric greeted childishly.
The officer stared at the both of them for a few seconds, before stepping backwards, "Wait, aren't you guys in some sort of feud?"
"Something like that," Draven muttered embarrassingly. "Look officer, sorry we were..." his mind searched for any other reason than alcohol, and the only answer he could find was, "...making out."
"No we weren't—"
"Yes, we were Eric," Draven's tone was firm as he violently turned to face Eric.
When Eric read his eyes, he nodded his head and said, "Ya, we got carried away."
The officer was unsure what to do, and seemed too shocked that he simply said, "That's alright, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. You can be on you way."
"Thank you," and Draven drove away as fast as he could.
Eric exhaled a sharp breath, "That was scary. Imagine they had taken our blood alcohol levels—we would've been screwed."
"That's for sure going to be on the news. All officers have a body cam," he turned to Eric, "Kyle's going to freak."
Instantly when Draven reminded Eric of Kyle, his face fell, "I forgot about Kyle. Holy shit, he's going to see that and think we were actually..." He trailed off, and buried his face into his palms, "Shit, you always find ways to mess up my relationship."
YOU ARE READING
Bed Sheets II
RomansaFive years ago, Eric Valence left Draven H. Malcom's hometown to find himself within the literary industry. The passing of his friend Melissa drove him away, and he soon became a well-known author. However, when Draven H. Malcom encounters Eric Val...