It was always the same fluffy, vanilla sex. And don’t get me wrong, Sonny loved that. He loved when Joel told him he was beautiful, tucked his hair behind his ear, and kissed him. He loved every moment of it. He loved the foreplay and the post sex cuddling. And Joel, he loved it too. It was sort of like, after the first time of sweet and romantic, they just kept on in the same old manner. They had a good thing going, you know? So neither of them ever thought to rock the boat until they somehow ended up in one of those way-too-honest drunken hazes playing a fucked up version of spin the bottle.
They were in the kitchen of the hotel they were staying at mid-tour, both pretty sexually starved considering their schedules had been crowded with shows, driving, signings, and parties; Places they were just expected to be and so they went. Now, on their first night alone since lord knows when, they had done nothing but play shitty drinking games and get generally smashed to the point Sunny had thrown up an empty glass bottle and proclaimed they were going to play spin the bottle. The larger of the two, being able to hold much more alcohol if for nothing more than size, pointed out that there weren’t enough people, which inspired the following rant.
“No, no, you don’t understand Joeeeeelllll!” His voice came through in a thick slur. “We just gotta take the bottle! And spin it! And then whomever it lands will get dared to do something!”
Joel laughed and nodded, thinking it wouldn’t get very far before one of them would get distracted or pass out. Either way. Looking back on it though, it was just like the old sixth grade set up. Spin the bottle, truth or dare, whatever, end up macking awkwardly with your crush at the end of the night. But Sonny was a funny drunk anyway, lightweight as hell, giggly and bubbly, forgot to be shy. All the good shit. It was a wonder he didn’t drink more, he seemed to be having a wonderful time.
And so they set off to playing their game.
Spin.
Take a shot.
Spin.
Now you take a shot.
Spin.
Hm. Get me another drink.
Insert Sonny stumbling across the room for a new bottle, miraculously returning without dropping it here.
Spin.
Shot. [Somehow this shot thing never got old to small one.]
Spin.
Chug as much as you can in fifteen seconds.
Chug. Chug. Chug. There was this quiet, one man chanting which filled the silence until the bottle dropped to the ground, empty.
“Impressive, goblin.”
Spin.
Shots!
As Joel slammed down his glass as was customary when finishing a shot, his eyes met Sonny’s to find a bright blush covering his cheeks. He was shifting a bit uncomfortably in his seat, blatantly checking out his counterpart. Either his inhibitions were low enough that he could become so bold or he was just that drunk.
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They were in the kitchen of the hotel they were staying at mid-tour, both pretty sexually starved considering their schedules had been crowded with shows, driving, signings, and parties; Places they were just expected to be and so they went. Now, on their first night alone since lord knows when, they had done nothing but play shitty drinking games and get generally smashed to the point Sunny had thrown up an empty glass bottle and proclaimed they were going to play spin the bottle. The larger of the two, being able to hold much more alcohol if for nothing more than size, pointed out that there weren’t enough people, which inspired the following rant.
“No, no, you don’t understand Joeeeeelllll!” His voice came through in a thick slur. “We just gotta take the bottle! And spin it! And then whomever it lands will get dared to do something!”
Joel laughed and nodded, thinking it wouldn’t get very far before one of them would get distracted or pass out. Either way. Looking back on it though, it was just like the old sixth grade set up. Spin the bottle, truth or dare, whatever, end up macking awkwardly with your crush at the end of the night. But Sonny was a funny drunk anyway, lightweight as hell, giggly and bubbly, forgot to be shy. All the good shit. It was a wonder he didn’t drink more, he seemed to be having a wonderful time.
And so they set off to playing their game.
Spin.
Take a shot.
Spin.
Now you take a shot.
Spin.
Hm. Get me another drink.
Insert Sonny stumbling across the room for a new bottle, miraculously returning without dropping it here.
Spin.
Shot. [Somehow this shot thing never got old to small one.]
Spin.
Chug as much as you can in fifteen seconds.
Chug. Chug. Chug. There was this quiet, one man chanting which filled the silence until the bottle dropped to the ground, empty.
“Impressive, goblin.”
Spin.
Shots!
As Joel slammed down his glass as was customary when finishing a shot, his eyes met Sonny’s to find a bright blush covering his cheeks. He was shifting a bit uncomfortably in his seat, blatantly checking out his counterpart. Either his inhibitions were low enough that he could become so bold or he was just that drunk.
Spin.