Wednesday: Liquor is Quicker

[lilyleia78]

Candy is very dandy indeed! But I’m sure we all know that Liquor is Quicker. It’s been done before, but who doesn’t like to see our boys and girls a little tipsy. And there’s nothing like a little alcohol to loosen lips, lower inhibitions, or excuse bad behavior. Will our favorite characters have to live with the consequences of their drunken actions? Or will they even remember what they did last night?

Please be kind to your magnificent codemonkeys and use the proper formatting for your prompts (the second is for crossovers).

Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Fandom1/Fandom2, Pairing, Prompt

For example:
SG1, Jack/Daniel, a toast
Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, wine and roses

Remember not to post more than 5 prompts in a row, and please limit yourselves to 3 prompts per fandom per prompter. If a prompt is answered, you can prompt again later in the day.

Thirsty for more options? Give a Lonely Prompt a home.

Comments

[lilyleia78]

SG1, Jack/Daniel, a toast

[tresa-cho.livejournal.com]

Jack grinned. Daniel met his eye with a wry smirk. They both stood, bowed to the cheers around them, and picked up their champagne glasses. They linked their arms at the elbows and drank. When they had carefully disentangled their arms, Jack shoved a piece of cake in Daniel's face, much to the delight of their guests.

Jack had wanted to do the cake ceremony at the wedding, Daniel had wanted the champagne. Daniel always got what he wanted, but Jack got his stipulations.

[lilyleia78]

Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, wine and roses

Can't fool me

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

Jack had roses and wine waiting for him when Ianto entered the room. He glared at his boss, his lover, his pain in the ass.

"Think I'll forgive you because you got me flowers? Sorry Jack, I'm not a woman, but if you want one surely you'll find one willing. Found a man easy enough," Ianto snipped at him.

"I don't know what you're going on about," Jack said taking his feet off the table and standing up. He seemed smaller with his coat hanging off the back of his chair instead of his shoulders.

"Frannies Dine and Dash, noon today. I saw you, with the blond, blue eyed German. I know he's German because he was swearing in it while you were giving him head under the table!" Ianto yelled his composer coming undone. He ran his hand through his hair and turned his back on the other man, "I thought...I know it's impossible to tame Captain Jack Harkness, but I thought we were at least...God I don't know what we thought you were."

"What was I wearing?" Jack asked coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder. Ianto shrugged his shoulder until the hand was gone.

"What bloody difference does that make?"

"Tell me!" Jack commanded and Ianto couldn't help but respond.

"Blue jeans, white t-shirt and tenny runners," Ianto growled at him.

"Ever seen me wear that kind of thing before?"

"No, but I saw his cock in your mouth! And I know that face of yours," Ianto yelled turning around and almost slapping the smug man.

"Ianto, that was me. I won't deny it, that was...hundreds of years ago. That Jack is dating Jargon and will be for another month or so. Great cock and real kinky, but I'm about to time jump into the forties in a week and forget about him when I'm knee deep in twins," Jack said in a confident way that made Ianto believe him, but he didn't want to give in and look like a fool just yet, "Have you ever seen me dress like that?"

"No."

"Didn't I look a little younger?" Jack demanded with a raised brow, "Answer that carefully."

"A touch," Ianto told him and sighed, "Damn time travelers...Wait. What's the roses for and the wine? What else did you do?"

"I fucked you," Jack said with a smirk, "For the first time exactly one year ago."

Ianto rolled his eyes, "Only you would want to celebrate an anniversary like that."

[lilyleia78]

Power Rangers, Jack/Sky, Against regulations

[kavidawn.livejournal.com]

Jack was pretty sure that what he was currently doing was against academy regulations. Pretty sure, since he hadn’t actually read the handbook but he figured that it was a safe bet that some form of a no alcohol rule was in there somewhere. He was also pretty sure that since he was the red ranger it was probably his job to put a stop to such things except he really had no desire to stop it. His team had been working their asses off so when he walked in to find three of them lounging around talking and passing around a bottle of tequila he didn’t hesitate to join them when the bottle was offered his way.

“Sky not joining us?” Z asked, directing her question at Syd and Bridge. Jack was glad she asked because he had been wondering that himself. Although, he really couldn’t picture the straight laced blue ranger doing anything that was against the rules, or most likely against the rules. He still wasn’t real clear on that.

“He just went to get something else. Tequila isn’t really his thing,” Syd explained and for once she didn’t look quite as perfect and put together but more relaxed and loose and Jack couldn’t help but wonder what the missing blue ranger would look like if he had enough to drink to relax a little. Syd said tequila wasn’t Sky’s thing and Jack wondered if that included all alcohol and found himself hoping that it didn’t.

Sky of course chose that moment to walk in and Jack was too busy trying not to stare at the non-uniform clothes that he was wearing that he missed what was in his hand. Then a glass was put in front of him and Jack looked up to meet the eyes of the blue ranger.

“Didn’t really figure you for a tequila kind of guy either.” Sky turned away to pour another glass and Jack looked down at the one in his hand. The liquid in it was dark but he hadn’t seen the bottle so he didn’t know what it was. He tentatively took a sip and blinked a little in surprise. He still didn’t know what it was but decided he didn’t care because anything this good was probably illegal. Sky seemed to read his mind because he lifted his glass a little in a mock toast, “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Jack couldn’t help but wonder what else that applied to at SPD.

Maybe he should look into getting a handbook. Figure out just what was and wasn’t against academy regulations. Then Sky’s leg was pressed against his as he took a seat next to him and Jack decided that he didn’t really care. It wouldn’t stop him either way.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/OMC and Barney/Marshall/Lily, in a dangerously vulnerable position because of drinking too much

Gambling with Life Part I

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

They were both bad at straight whiskey shots. Ted usually cut his with Coca-Cola and Barney loved mixing his with Red Bull. But after seeing Robin bolt down about six and happily head off to work with neither a wobble to her step or slur to her voice, guy logic said they had to beat her for the honor of bros everywhere.

Three shots in, it started to get ridiculous. For one thing neither of them had even tried the 160 proof Whiskey Robin preferred. They generally stuck to 101 proof themselves.

Generally the world’s worst bets are among men… to be more clear… drunk men. And at two o’ four am, Ted came across his worst idea ever.

“I bet you five hundred that you aren’t as hot as you think you are.”

“You’re on… it’s a foolish Ted to get in a bet with a master debater and a cunning linguist.”

---

The result Barney was in the corner of McLaren's, his mouth pressed to that of a hispanic male's, arms wrapped around the man's neck, allowing the other man to cup his slack-covered taunt buttocks with both hands. As Ted watched, Barney's hand suddenly uncurled with two fingers up. Without even breaking liplock, Barney sent a quick bro-lepthic message, "Ted, Ted, right here."

Ted rolled his eyes and returned the bro-lepthy message. "Okay, fine, fine... you win. Men love you too. The five hundred is yours." He gulped back his beer and waved Barney over.

Barney wobbled over, eyes hazy, cheeks flushed, and lips a bit on the swollen side. "Well, well, well," he slurred out because he was rather plastered, "Looks like I win in more ways than one." He popped open his billfold and let Ted slide the money in, grinning wildly. "Well, see you loser Ted later... because I am going to get me some." He turned and sauntered out of the bar, the other man following behind him, hand practically glued to Barney's ass.

If Ted had been sober, he might have realized that Barney's iPhone still laying on the table was a bad thing. There was no way for the other man to contact any of them. Unfortunately, he had just as much to drink as Barney. He grinned and slid the thing over to him. "Hey, I can beat his high score at Ninja Ropes Extreme."

---

The man ran his hands along the tenting fabric in Barney’s suit and he helplessly arched forward into it. He could feel the pulse of his erection, feel his boxers grow damp around the head of his cock. Barney tilted his head back to allow the man access to the long column of his throat. He didn’t know it, but his long throat was one of the reasons Ted was unconsciously obsessed with columns. “Mmm… that’s nice…”

All he got from the other man was a chuckle. He didn’t even know the man’s name… just that they had gotten on his bike and driven quite a distance away from McLaren’s. They weren’t even in the man’s house; he had just stopped the bike and said that he couldn’t wait any longer to claim his prize. “Claim away,” Barney had said, carefully draping his jacket (he’d never let the thing drop, since the jacket cost six thousand alone) over the seat of the bike and pressed himself against the wall of the alley, offering all there was of the Barnacle to the man to enjoy and explore.

Suddenly, the man grabbed a handful of Barney’s hair and pulled him to his knees. “Suck my cock, you little slut.”

Barney’s heart leapt into his throat where it seemed to choke him. “’M not a slut,” he protested, the pain in his scalp overwhelming so he let the man pull him where he liked, rather than risk loosing a huge handful of blond hair.

“Oh, you are a slut,” the man chuckled, “I’ve been watching you all evening. See… sluts like you can’t get raped. It’s not possible because you just want it anyway.”

“No, no, no, no…” Barney protested.

“And you’re going to give me everything I want. But don’t worry… I’m not going to harm that pretty face. In fact… I’m going to tell my Bros that your face is the one face to remain unmarked, but of course that takes your willing mouth as well as a few other things.” He smiled coldly. “Strip. That suit is sure to fetch me a pretty penny. Your wallet too and don’t forget that watch. Don’t tell me that it’s a fake Rolex, because I know it’s real.”

Barney had no other choice, but to obey.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Robin, taking advantage

[otempora42.livejournal.com]

Well, this certainly wasn't part of the plan.

"Come on, one more game of hockey," Robin said, in her thick Canadian accent. Barney shook his head, quickly, his arms wrapped around his upper body, which was now covered in bruises.

Damn it, this was supposed to be an innocent ply-Robin-with-alcohol-so-she'd-sleep-with-him deal. She wasn't supposed to go... Super-Canadian.

"Let's go find a Zamboni!" Robin said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the apartment.

It was going to be a long night. And NOT in the fun way.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/??, rohypnol

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/dark!Wilson, vulnerable

[menolly-au.livejournal.com]

House had once said that nothing could ever hurt his heart. It hadn't always been true, in childhood he had trusted and loved like all children. One summer when he was twelve most of that was taken from him and what little remained had died over the next few years as he turned away from those who had once professed to love him. When he left them he could sense their relief although their smiles were as polite as always.

Only two people since then had penetrated his heart. Stacey he had loved with all he had, an all encompassing flame that had burned them both when she had made a decision that took his trust away with it. When she had left him while he struggled to get his life back he had shut down, closed off everything that could still hurt him. His jokes and taunts had become crueler, his words had cut ties with whatever tenuous friends he still had. Only Wilson had remained. Wilson had refused to be driven away. Wilson could still hurt him.

House wanted desperately for Wilson not to matter to him but he did, Wilson had become his life. So when Wilson filed his cane in half and sent him tumbling to the floor he told himself it did not matter, Wilson was just responding to his pranks. When Wilson called him a junkie and an addict he told himself that he only spoke the truth. The truth should not hurt him. When Wilson told him he was miserable and an ass who destroyed not only his own life but the lives of those around him House just nodded. He knew that.

When Wilson said that they were never friends he felt his heart had been ripped out again. He stood and watched Wilson walk out of his life and told himself that he was glad, he didn't need Wilson, he didn't need anyone who could hurt him so easily. He hated himself for how eagerly he let Wilson back in, as if having someone who hurt you was better than having no-one.

When he stood in an elevator and Wilson told him that he would end up alone he tried not to care. He failed. Wilson always knew just how to hurt him.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Wilson, drugged

[tresa-cho.livejournal.com]

"Oooookay. Time for good little doctors to be in bed," Wilson grunted as he kicked the door open to House's bedroom. He shifted his grip on House's waist, and together they slowly shuffled across the floor towards the bed. Wilson overbalanced when they reached it, and they both tumbled onto the mattress. Wilson grunted and disentangled himself from House's limp limbs.

"You better be taking my shoes off or you're doing my laundry for a year," House mumbled roughly. Wilson reached for House's legs and, careful of the pained one, removed House's shoes and swung him up fully onto the bed. "Payback is going to be a bitch," House managed, his words slurring together.

"Yes, yes. I quiver in fear at what you may come up with," Wilson said, resting his hand on House's belly. "You get some sleep now. Your patient isn't going anywhere. And if you promise not to kill me when you wake up, I may have something home cooked for you to eat."

"I don' care how good a wife you are, you are not getting sex for years after this," House groaned, a hand reaching out to slap Wilson's thigh. Wilson tensed. House was really far gone on those sedatives, evidentally. Wilson started to stand, but House's hand tightened. Wilson let himself settle back into the mattress and rested his hand on House's as the diagnostician finally, thankfully, drifted unconscious.

With any luck, House wouldn't remember any of what had happened (including the part where Wilson spiked his drink). As much as House needed him, he didn't need him sexually. Yet.

[earthquakedream.livejournal.com]

RPS, Jared/Jensen, drunk and slutty

[demonlord-dean.livejournal.com]

"Aaww, come on Jen. I can see how much you want it."
Jared put one of his arms around Jensen's shoulder.
"In you'r dreams Padalecki." He grew stiff but didn't pull out of Jared's hug.
"Yeah in my dreams. But if this was one of my dreams you would so be nacked, man."
Jensen groaned. Jared normally was a joy have around. Really he was. But when he was drunken. Well, then he got horny. Jensen never really understood why he of all people had to deal with him then. Jared had a girlfriend god dammit! Why wasn't he dirty talking to her?
"You have such a pretty mouth Jen. You know that? Even though you're trying not to, they always stand out."
Jared's face came closer to his. Too close for Jensen's liking.
"When you're licking you lips."
Jensen nervously licked over his bottom lip.
"Like now." Jared let out a moan.
"Fuck Jen. I can't think of anything else then how they would feel around my dick."
Jensen's eyes widned. Okay, now would be a perfect moment to get out of here. He tried to stand up but Jared grabbed his wrist and didn't let go of it.
"Jensen. please." His voice sounded soft and needy. His eyes where full of passion and desperation. Hell, what was he thinking? This was just Jared. Nice, cuddle-addicted, sometimes shit talking Jared. He relaxed a bit and got back to the couch. Sat down next to his tall friend.
Then everything happend faster than his mind could get it. The next thing he knew was Jared's tounge in his mouth and himself sucking at it like it was air and he was suffocating. Jared moaned and whined back in his troat. But Jensen was doing any better. Until the day he died, Jensen would deny he let out a whimper when Jared's moth covered his again in a sloppy kiss.
"Jensen." The younger man panted. "Want you."
Jensen pulled his best friend in his lap. All concern long forgotten thanks to the passion pumping through is vains.
"Jay."
Jared nibbled and sucked at his throat like Jensen was candy.
When Jared's condom-covered dick touched Jensen's own, he let out another loud moan. Fuck, he needed this. Now.
He opened the zipper of his jeans and tried to pull his jeans down as far as he could. Jared stood up for a moment and put off his own jeans. The boxers followed. The he got onto Jensen's lap again.
"Fuck, Jay."
"Yeah, that's the spirit." Jared chuckled. He pressed a tube of lube against Jensen's chest.
"You planned this here Padalecki?"
Jared chuckled again.
"Well, you never know what'll happen. So, always be prepared."
Jensen took the lube from him, popped the cap open and squeezed some of the cold lube on his fingers. Then he brought his slick fingers to Jared's hole. One after the other finger slipped in without much trouble. Jensen wondered how often Jared was doing something like this if he was that loose.
Jared mewled when Jensen's now condom-covered cock entered him.
"God yeah Jensen!"
Jared didn't even wait for his body to get used to the dick in his ass and just went for it.
Jensen gasped. Jared was so fucking tight. And hot.
He had to concentrade to not come. He let his hips snap up and when he drove down, Jared's body followed him. Trying to get more of him. Jensen tried some different angles but with Jared sitting in his lap it wasn't as easy as he'd thought.
Then Jared cried out. Yeah, he must have hit his prostate. Jensen tried the same angle again and hit Jared's sweet spot again. The younger one jacked his cock in time with Jensen's thrusts.
They kissed until they had to break apart for air. And the Jared threw his head back and let out a long moan.
His body responded on instince and tightned around Jensen's cock. The older man thrust in two more times, then he was coming, too.
Jared still sat in Jensen's lap and panted like he had just run a marathon.
"Fuck man, We should so do this more often."

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Adelle/Claire, mimosa

[gsr-rocks.livejournal.com]

Claire glances around the bright office, taking in the red walls and white floors for what seems like the twentieth time that day. Every time she turns around, Adelle is calling her into the office for a meeting. It’s usually something quick; clearing an Active for an assignment or reviewing a chart. So fast that it could have been discussed over the phone. But Adelle insists on talking to Claire in person and Claire is in no position to argue. She walks in, folder in hand, and watches Adelle nod and sip her orange juice. Then it’s done and she’s on her way.

This time, Adelle doesn’t speak as she shows Claire in. She still has a glass in her hand, the juice sitting at the same level as twenty minutes ago. “May I ask what this is about?” The annoyance is clear in Claire’s voice.

“Just a moment.” Adelle’s back is to Claire and the doctor watches intently at the minute movements of her boss. She can see blurs of fingers and wrists but not enough to distinguish exactly what Adelle is doing.

A small grin playing at her lips, Adelle suddenly spins around to face Claire. She is now holding two glasses, each full nearly to the brim with orange juice. “Try this,” she licks her lips as she hands Claire a glass.

“No, thank—“

Adelle arches one brow and Claire can’t argue with that. She never could. She takes the glass and sips delicately. It tastes fine, like juice, but then a slight aftertaste fills her mouth. Realization hits her and her brown eyes widen. “Are you getting drunk this early in the morning?”

Adelle downs half of her glass before answering. “Not drunk. Just... making it through the week.”

“Is everything okay?” Claire asks, leaning forward in her seat. She notices the glass has started to sweat and she looks around desperately for a coaster. She’d rather not hold onto the beverage if she has no intentions of drinking it.

“It’s Wednesday,” Adelle answers, nodding as if she has logically answered Claire’s question. When the doctor slightly tilts her head to the left in confusion, Adelle sighs loudly. “Wednesday. Hump day, I believe it’s called.”

Claire hesitates, then smiles at the inadvertent humor leaving her boss’s lips. Adelle grins back, raising her nearly empty glass in an inviting manner. “Well, I suppose half a glass won’t hurt me.”

[earthquakedream.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, Sam is a cuddly drunk

Sam is a cuddly drunk

[demonlord-dean.livejournal.com]

"Sam! Get your hands off of me!"
"But Deeeaan." His younger brother whined. "You smell so good and I'm coold."
Sam snuggled closer to Dean who just looked at him with a shocked expression on his handsome face.
"Okay, that's it. No more alcohol for you."
He took the beer bottle out of Sam's hands and placed it on the bar table. He just couldn't believe his luck. They were in a bar full of really manly men, Sam was totally wasted and was now in cuddle mood. As it seemed the men in the bar didn't really like cuddling men. Great.
"Come on Sammy. Let's go back to the motel."
Dean reached for Sams jacket just to have it ripped out of his grasp.
"That's mine! I can sooo put it on without you help, De."
Oh there it was. That stupid nickname Sammy used when he was a little boy and now, when he was really hammered.
Sam needed 3 attempts to get his jacket on. A guy in the back of the bar was staring daggers at Sam and Dean gave him his death glare to make him look away.
"Ready?"
His little brother nooded and put on of his long long arms around Dean's neck.
"Yeah, let's go."
Together they stumbled out of the bar to the Impala. When Dean helped Sam get into the passenger seat, Sam clung to Dean's neck like he was a drowning man. Dean lost his balance, tumbled forward and landed in an akward position on Sam's lap.
"My De." The younger man cood and snuggled closer to Dean. Once again.

[earthquakedream.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, Sam's first time drinking

Warning for Underage Sam

[bekkis.livejournal.com]

"Oh my god, I'm so drunk." Sam blinks, the room still spinning and he turns his head to look at Dean at the other end of the couch.

"Unfuckingbelievable. Sammy, you had two beers." Dean kicks his leg and Sam pouts grabbing Dean's foot. "You're a two beer queer!" Dean twists his leg and Sam reluctantly lets go. He sits up, room spinning around him and crawls over to Dean.

"So drunk." He flops his head down onto Dean's lap and looks up at him. Dean rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his beer, but tangles his fingers into Sam's hair. Sam purrs, arching into the touch and turning his face towards Dean's stomach. "Mmm, feels good." Sam snuggles closer, pressing his face into Dean's sweatpants.

"Uh, Sammmy?" Dean's fingers still in his hair, and Sam groans and shifts closer. He can make out Dean's cock, getting harder and harder in his pants, and Sam moans and presses his mouth against it.

"Dean..." He moans and Dean bucks up towards his mouth.

"Fucking hell Sammy." Dean tightens his fingers in Sam's hair. Sam moans again, mouthing at Dean's cock before lifting a hand up and pushing Dean's pants down. His cock bobs out, hard and red and Sam moans.

"Dean, so hot." He blinks up at Dean. Dean's face is flushed and mouth parted, and the room is still spinning and Sam can't help but lean up and kiss Dean, his tongue sliding into his mouth.

"Sammy." Dean pulls away and Sam whines. Dean tries to push Sam away, but Sam doesn't give a fuck and slides down to press his mouth against Dean's stomach.

"Shut up." Dean moans as Sam sucks his cock into his mouth, precome and spit dribbling down his chin. Sam's moaning like crazy as he sucks Dean down, hand curled around the base. Dean thrusts up into his mouth and Sam chokes a little.

"Shit, Sammy..." Dean curles his fingers harder in Sam's hair and Sam just sucks harder, tongue twirling on Dean's dick. He presses Dean's hips into the couch with his free hand and sucks Dean all the way down.

Dean comes, come filling Sam's mouth and spilling out. Sam moans as he licks Dean's cock clean, and Dean can't help himself, pulls Sam up and licks his mouth. Sam moans, and Dean reaches down to cup his dick with his hand. Sam arches up and comes, and Dean can't help but feel a little smug.

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Bones, Angela/Brennan, Kahlua

[dargai.livejournal.com]

The first thought Brennan has is that coffee is so much better than kahlua. It's not that kahlua is bad, it's just that it's coffee-flavoured and somehow that tastes all wrong. Like humanoid, but not human. Maybe she's said that out loud because Ange glances at her and laughs.

The second thought Brennan has is that Ange seems to love the stuff. She frowns absently, trying to rationalize that assumption. Then her brow clears because Ange's tongue is sliding inside the glass, drawing lazy circles and licking up the sticky remnants. Okay then, Brennan thinks, and looks around to see who in the bar Ange might be performing for.

Brennan's third thought is that she's not sure whether it's more surprising to see Ange miscalculate her audience or the audience completely ignore Ange. She intercepts a sly wink and realizes that Ange hasn't been performing for the bar at all.

"Why are you winking at me?"

"Lawyers at three o'clock, sweetie."

"Oh." Brennan feels a little foolish - which is still a novel experience because it happens fairly rarely - because the lawyers are sitting right behind her. That explains why she hasn't noticed the usual biologically-motivated leers.

Her fourth thought, following hot on the heels of realization, is that she's surprised. So it didn't work out with Roxy - that doesn't surprise her. She was marginally surprised that it didn't work out with Hodgins, but she's more surprised that for a second she thought Ange was looking at her like that. And she liked it.

--

The first thought Brennan has is that coffee is so much better than kahlua. It's not that kahlua is bad, it's just that it's coffee-flavoured and somehow that tastes all wrong. Like humanoid, but not human. Maybe she's said that out loud because Ange glances at her and laughs.

Brennan smiles awkwardly in response, the corners of her mouth lifting at different times because her coordination is a little off at the moment; perhaps she shouldn't have had that much vodka.

It doesn't matter now because the thick, heavy liquid starts to trickle down the slope of Angela's hip and-- Brennan really loves these sheets. She lies back down across Angela's legs and chases the kahlua with her tongue. She never has second thoughts.

--

The first thought Brennan has is that coffee is so much better than kahlua. It's not that kahlua is bad, it's just that it's coffee-flavoured and somehow that tastes all wrong. Like humanoid, but not human. Maybe she's said that out loud because Ange glances at her and laughs.

"That's somehow so...you," Angela says.

"I'm me, Ange. Who else would I sound like?" This is weird because Brennan's second thought is that it's Booth who usually has these pointless, intimate conversations with her. But Booth is recuperating in hospital and, this time, she doesn't want to stay and watch re-runs with him. Brennan doesn't want to think about the tumour, which is why she's here in Ange's apartment trying out all the alcohol she can. And Ange is her best friend.

No, that can't quite be right. Most of the time it feels like Booth is her best friend. The third thought sizzles in her brain and she tips the rest of the kahlua into her mouth.

"Whoa, sweetie. It looks harmless but it's about forty proof."

"Benign," Brennan says and to her surprise, she's slurring just a little.

"What's benign?"

"Harmless. Benign. Syn-no-nyms." The word remains whole and unmutilated.

"I know, I meant-- Here, have some more."

Angela's mouth is a deep red bow that parts and purses when she speaks. Soft lips, Brennan thinks, and she blinks away that fourth thought because it's Ange and normally Brennan's lusting after Booth not-so-privately.

"It tastes terrible," she protests. "How can you drink this?"

Ange's doing that wicked smile with her top teeth cutting into her lower lip, like she's debating something.

"It can be an acquired taste," she says, and Brennan notices that the far-away haze in her eyes makes her look even more elfin. "Sometimes you need some help to acquire the taste," Angela says and leans forward suddenly.

Brennan's sixth and last lucid thought of the evening is that they're both right. Ange does have soft lips and kahlua tastes amazing on them.

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

DCU; Tim Drake (Robin III)/Roy Harper (Red Arrow); "This is break up booze, it doesn't count!" Roy assured him.

[jynx.livejournal.com]

"I thought you'd given up all vices," Tims aid with an arched brow as he opened the door for Roy. "And no, before you ask, my dad's not here, neither is Dana, and Dick isn't even in Gotham."

"This is break up booze, it doesn't count!" Roy assured him, looking slightly guilty over the fact he was that transparent. "Dick would kill me if he thought I was corrupting you, wouldn't he?"

"Maim you a little, probably," Tim said with a wicked smile. "But I don't think he'd kill you. He'd save that for Batman or my Dad."

Roy looked at the bottle of tequila in hand and then looked back at Tim, "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"No, it's not," Tim said with a small smile. "You broke up with someone. I'll just sit and watch and hand you limes and salt while you bawl your eyes out in my room."

"I don't 'bawl!'" Roy said indignantly.

"Well, according to Dick, you do."

"Dick's an ass," Roy groused.

"Yes, yes, we know, we know," Tim said, pushing Roy in the direction of his bedroom. "You have shot glasses?"

"Glass and ye," Roy said, glaring at Tim. "No tequila for you. You're underage."

Tim gave him a very Robin Look and shook his head, "If you want to live in denial, then I won't be mean and tell you all about the crap Bart and Kon get me in."

"Fair enough," Roy said primly. "Then I wouldn't have to tell anyone."

"Tequila," Tim reminded Roy as they got into his room.

"Right. Break-up booze. Got it."

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/dark!Wilson, only when he's been drinking

[menolly-au.livejournal.com]

It only happens when he's been drinking. Usually Wilson allows House the illusion that they are in a happy, fulfilling relationship. They live and sleep together. Most of the time Wilson is fairly detached, his manner polite, his smiles ready but only on the surface. He doesn't allow House to touch any other part of his life, he keeps his friends and family to himself and House receives no invitation to the events he attends. They have sex often, Wilson is fairly insatiable that way. Wilson is always the dominating one, the one that drives their encounters. They have sex when he wants and in the manner that he prefers. House tells himself he doesn't mind. He loves Wilson with everything that he has and what they have is enough, just barely but it is enough.

When Wilson returns home after drinking it is a different matter. They have sex but House knows that Wilson is doing it to punish him, to remind him that he is only second best, a poor substitute prize, Wilson would rather be with Amber, the love of his life. House will do for now because Wilson doesn't want to be alone and he wants no more women. But House can never be Amber for him. So when Wilson has been drinking and he pins House to the bed he is rough and careless. House bites his lip in pain and Wilson continues on regardless. When Wilson comes he calls out Amber's name. The look he turns on House as he finishes him off is one of anger and disgust. House has to turn his head away.

They never sleep together on those nights. When Wilson gets up he can't wait to wash the scent of House off him. After his shower he stalks to the living room and crashes in front of the television with a bottle of scotch. House knows he will drink until he passes out, and when he sleeps he dreams of being with Amber.

In the morning they will sit across from each other while Wilson drinks black coffee and House eats his cereal. Wilson will leave for work without a word of apology. House will have a scalding hot shower and look away from his own reflection, not liking what he sees there.

It is not what House would wish for but it is enough. Just barely.

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Peter/Nathan, "Wait... You weren't actually drunk!"

(gets a bit cracky at the end)

[vampedvixen.livejournal.com]

“I can't believe we just did that.” Nathan stares at his brother, then worried thoughts of his wife and political career come to his mind. He's screwed. He's beyond screwed, he's damned-- he's just slept with his flesh and blood brother for gods sake.“If it wasn't for that damn bottle of rum, none of this would have happened.”

“I have a confession to make.”

“And what's that, Peter?”

“I wasn't actually drunk.”

“Wait,” Nathan knows why HE did this-- but Peter, if he wasn't drunk as well what the hell was he doing in bed with him. “You weren't actually drunk?!”

“Advanced healing. I can't get drunk because my liver doesn't care what kind of poisons get put into me.” He plays with his brothers hair, making Nathan feel a little more self-conscious. Sobering up sometimes comes with huge side effects. “And I don't seem to mind who gets put into me.”

“My god, Mohinder was right. You are a whore!”

[twasadark.livejournal.com]

Dark Angel, Max/Alec, Alec manages to consume such an epic amount of alcohol that he gets drunk and says something inappropriate to Max

[jya-bd-cp-ttgb.livejournal.com]

Nobody knew who's idea it was.

No, seriously, it got lost in the shuffle somewhere.

It might've been one of the ordinary visitors : Logan, who was, of course, there with Max. Original Cindy, who'd found true love with Dana aka X5-728, Normal, who'd gone and fallen for Gem and baby Eve. Sketchy, everyone's favorite reporter and Asha, who'd surprised everyone by hooking up with the X6 known as Dalton.

The game was "I Never."

It took eleven bottles of tequila to get really raucous, and by then, the ordinaries were out cold.

For that matter, so was Gem, who looked adorable with her head on Normal's shoulder.

Joshua was the next transgenic to hit the floor. Then Dalton went down like a tree being felled.

Dana waved the white flag when they broke into Mole's Moonshine.

It was down to Alec and Max, but even if it hadn't been just them awake, the game would've been over when Alec mumbled "I never thought you'd like backdoor sports" before he passed out.

[primreceded.livejournal.com]

QAF/RPS, Brian Kinney/Hal Sparks, I don't drink/I've always liked a challenge

[katbcoll.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Nate, "Uh, Nate? I don't think you should mix those"

[nephir.livejournal.com]

oh.... I'm gonna grab this and post later today.

Chasers, SPN, Sam/Dean, whiskey

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

“I didn’t think you liked whiskey.”

It’s the last thing Sam expected his brother to say but nothing about what’s happened since Dean took the shot has been expected.

“It’s as good a drink as any.”

Of course, nothing that Sam’s done since Dean took the shot has been expected either. He can’t bring himself to regret it though, can’t stop picturing the way Dean’s fingers had held the shot glass, the way his tongue had tasted the rim before his lips touched the glass. He can’t stop remembering the feel of the glass under his hands as he’d taken it back from Dean or the way the whiskey had tasted on his brother’s lips. He can’t forget the sound of Dean’s moan as his lips opened under him and his tongue became Dean’s chaser.

Dean smiled as the waitress came back, a half dozen different types of shots left for them. He picks one up and holds it up for Sam. “Let’s see how you feel about tequila.”

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Lie to Me, Loker/Lightman, drunken confessions

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

Eli was only one fraction away from being passed out on the bar. The barman had long since ceased serving him and was now plying him with water.

Ria was next to him, not so much out of friendship, or even really care, but more because she felt completely out of place sitting at the table with Lightman and Foster.

Eli was mumbling into the bar top, and was obviously looking to pathetic doing it for the bartender to throw him out quite yet.

He turned his head so that he was looking past Ria to the table where Lightman and Foster sat.

"I don't know why I stayed. There's no point."

He sounded properly miserable, not just drunken melancholy and Ria perked up a little.

"He's never going to say anything. Actually i'm pretty sure that now she's divorced it's only a matter of time before he starts dating her. He's pretty persuasive." He sways closer, conspiratorial. "It's the British thing."

Ria is a little confused, she had picked up the vibe between Lighman and Foster but what the hell was Loker on about?

"Well I suppose I should have expected it, he didn't exactly promise commitment ceremonies and adapted babies."

Eli's eyes droop shut.

"I just wish he loved me enough to say it in public, like he would for her."

Ria's eyes widen and her gaze flicks between the table and Eli passed out on the bar.

Well, it seems like radical honesty or no, Eli had been keeping a few pretty good secrets.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Topher/OMC, reckless

[katbcoll.livejournal.com]

SPN/NCIS, Sam/Abby, Hurricanes (the drink, not the storms)

[smilesoftnsweet.livejournal.com]

CWRPS, Jared/Misha, tequila tastes better on your skin

[girldisppearing.livejournal.com]

Drinking was serious business for the giant who sat with his legs parted on the floor of his living room, curling his toes with the half emptied bottle of tequila between his legs. And Misha's eyes never left that bottle. Drinking with Jared however meant that Misha got laughed at because he took his shots out of a glass. Which he promptly spilled purely by accident as he reached over to steal the bowl of chips from the large monster sized Texan who had slipped down to laying out on the floor, tee shirt riding up his tan belly to flash golden skin.

"What...the hell" Jared slurred a little, eyebrow raised when Misha laughed, falling to the floor on his knees and crawled over, licking a stripe up the skin and laughed as he sucked at the clear liquid that threatened to fall over Jared's side to the floor. "Wha..dude.." Misha only laughed harder, throwing his leg haphazardly over Jared's leg, swaying as he poured more against his skin, ice cold fingers pushing up the man's shirt to lick up, laughing harder when he felt Jared shudder harder, nearly arching up off the floor under him.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Angel, Wesley/Angel(us), uninhibited

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Angel would barely look at him now. It had been weeks, but still nothing. After an Angelus episode, he was always distant for a while, spent even more time brooding in the shadows. But the other times he didn't avoid Wesley, or make excuses not to be alone in a room with him.

Of course the other times, Angelus hadn't made good on his threats to 'ravish' Wesley.

And the other times, Wesley hadn't decided that sex was a good way to stall for time to reinstate the curse.

And the other times, Wesley hadn't moaned with obvious pleasure when Angelus' - Angel's - fingers slid up inside of him, to tease him, to send jolts of pleasure toward his cock, until he broke down, until he just plain broke.

Until Wesley, excruciatingly proper Wesley, became uninhibited. And without inhibitios, Wesley's dark and twisted needs came falling out of his mouth.

First, Angelus said out loud all the things Angel had noticed about Wesley - the scent of arousal Wesley had when Angel would kill something, the way Wesley had gradually become more and more comfortable with working with evil things to achieve his goals, and most brutally, the way that Wesley's breath hitched when Angelus was mentioned, the look Wesley got when thinking of Angelus -- fear tinged with desire. In Angel's mocking words, Wesley burned hot and tingly for the monster.

Angelus said all these things to Wesley, told him that his desperately maintained veneer was not just cracked but shattered completely. Told him that Angel knew all his dirty secrets and felt sorry for pathetic Wesley, Wesley who tries so hard to be a good guy, even though it's clearly just not in him. And as Angelus tortured Wesley with equal parts pain and pleasure, he ordered Wesley to admit these things, these revolting things. And more.

"Tell me you need to be fucked, Wesley. Tell me you're a slut for me, that you dream at night of being tortured by me."

"Tell me that I own you. That's why you stay with Angel. Because I own you. And if you stay long enough, you know your master will come back."

"Tell me you get harder every time I say I'm going to lay waste to your body. That you'll be in pieces on the floor, literally in scattered pieces, and I'll still keep defiling whatever's left of you. Damn, Wes, you're even more fucked up than I am, and I'm evil!"

And Wesley told him. Everything Angelus wanted to hear. And more.

And Angel remembered all of it, Wesley knew. He couldn't blame Angel for not wanting to talk to him. He was lucky he hadn't been fired or worse, but the team wouldn't work this way. Angel thought him a monster, most likely. In his own way, Wesley knew, he was as bad as Angelus, his lust for evil was just as strong. So Wesley didn't blame Angel for not even wanting to look at him. He sure as hell didn't like looking at himself anymore.

So he would do the only decent thing that an indecent man could do. He would leave gracefully.

"Not now, Wesley."

"Yes, now, Angel. Look, I know why you've been - avoiding me. And I can't blame you. I'm going to leave. I'll fight the fight somewhere else and you won't have to be around me any more. I think that's best."

The weeks of no eye contact suddenly seemed much easier at that moment, as Angel put himself inches in front of Wesley's face and gave him a hard glare.

"No. The mission comes first. If you're scared of Angelus, then fine. But you don't get to leave just because you're embarrassed. We'll get over this. Eventually."

"For fuck's sake, Angel, you don't want to look at me, talk to me, be in the same room with me. You don't want me here. You fight evil. You don't want someone who ... you don't want someone like me."

"That's the problem, Wes," Angel said in a pained voice as his body pressed into Wesley's, "I do want someone like you."

Angel gave him a hard kiss, violent and cold. Wesley could feel Angel's erection rising against his thigh as Angel said, "That's why I can't look at you Wesley. Because every time I do, it brings out the monster inside of me."

Wesley hesitated then said,"I should go then. I'm a danger to you."

"No," Angel ordered, "But you might be a danger to yourself."