Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 28

*Trigger Warning I guess? Alcohol, hints of drugs, and something close to smut*

        It was New Year's Eve and we were mere hours away from the start of 2009 which meant we were celebrating. Andy, Joe, Pete, and I along with a few of our other friends like Brendon, Jon, Ray, Frank, and Gabe were all gathered at Joe's place. Of course there were others, but those were the ones I was closest to and knew the best.

        Andy was messing with a drunk Brendon on the couch, telling him something that caused him to yell "No fucking way!" across the room, and then occasionally shout that he was right because there were in fact no Way's here.

        Pete, Gabe, and Ray were sitting on the floor doing vodka shots, the three of them looking pretty well wasted. Joe and Frank were watching them, egging them on. They both looked pretty wasted themselves, nearly spilling the drinks in their hands every time they got excited.

        Jon and I were standing in the kitchen and had the perfect view of everything else going on. He kept handing me drinks and I just kept downing them without another thought, the liquor burning on its way down. Each time it seemed to burn a little less and soon I was missing the sharp feeling it had been at first. It had become more of a dull feeling and that annoyed me. The sharpness of the alcohol at first had been what was keeping my interest. Now I was only drinking what he gave me because it seemed like too much work to quit. Maybe the burn would return if I drank enough.

        "Jon?" I asked as he handed me another drink, my voice slurred even to my own ears. Oh well. He can understand me.

        "Yeah?"

        "Why am I still drinking?" I asked him, then took another swig from the cup in my hand. I didn't even know what it was at this point, just that it wasn't strong enough. Then I laughed because it was kind of ironic for me to ask him that, and then take another drink without even thinking about it.

        "I don't know man. Why would you stop?" he asked me, his voice a little raspier than usual. I couldn't help but giggle at that too. There was a sweet scent drifting from him that drew me towards him and maybe that's why I stayed, taking cup after cup from his hands.

        I thought about what he'd said and couldn't come up with an answer. Why would I stop? It's New Year's Eve and I didn't have anything to do tomorrow. Not drinking until I couldn't remember a thing from tonight seemed like the only sensical thing to do so that's what I did. Before I knew it, I'd downed that cup and he handed me another immediately. Jon raided the fridge multiple times, each time coming out munching on another more obscure thing. His stomach seemed like a bottomless pit, much like I seemed to take in more alcohol than seemed possible.

        I had to pee and the bathroom was down the hall. I mumbled something to Jon about being right back, set my drink on the counter, and tried to put my right foot in front of my left, but seemed to miss. I tried again and there it went, hitting the spot on the floor that I'd intended with a loud noise. Damn, that hit harder than I'd meant for it to. My feet felt like lead, but I lifted the left anyway, putting it down a little softer than the right.

        The bathroom seemed miles away and I almost fell down a couple times on my way, but I made it. Actually peeing was a challenge too, the zipper not cooperating with my fingers. They're too chubby. Your sausage fingers don't work too well, Patrick. I frowned at that, the thought making me sad. They were pretty sausage-like, weren't they? I couldn't help but wonder how I played guitar with sausage fingers. Maybe they weren't normally like this. Maybe all the alcohol I'd drank had inflated me like a balloon and they were only like this because I hadn't peed yet.