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A Night Out
By Taleya
He was going to throw up. No, seriously. This time he
meant it. Observe the Amazing Human Vomit Cannon in action. Right after he
cleaned out the goats nest that had taken up residence in his mouth. And died.
McCoy dragged an arm over his face in a futile attempt to block out the
too-bright sunlight and groaned.
Sweet Jesus what did he drink last night?
"Mmmmmmmmmmmorning!" James Kirk was far too perky and awake. McCoy snarled a
return greeting and swiped a clumsy hand out at the proffered drink in the other
man's hand. Downing the contents in one gulp without opening his eyes, he gagged
theatrically and dropped it down the side of the bed, steadfastly refusing to
look at the glass. You really didn't want to know what went into those good old
fashioned Iowan hangover cures.
But it did help. Kind of. Now he thought he could make it all the way to the
bathroom before he barfed. He cracked open an eye and stared at the ceiling,
waiting patiently for it to stop turning circles.
Jim's head appeared in his vision, still grinning at him, and McCoy had the
feeling he'd hit some fucked up alternate reality. There was no way that Kirk
managed to drink him under the table. No way in hell. And no one deserved a grin
like that after a night on the drink unless...
"Oh god. We didn't go to a kareoke bar, did we?"
"Nope. Well, we did, but you didn't sing." Kirk's still grinning that
shit-eating grin and if anything it's just gotten even bigger and shit-eatingier.
Bones was getting nervous. This was moving beyond their usual ranking of
"Inappropriate Renditions of ABBA Hits" and into the realms of "Highly
Embarrassing Tattoo" or "Shotgun Wedding"
"What."
Jim grinned.
"WHAT?" McCoy shoved himself into a sitting position, clenching his teeth and
breathing through his nose as his stomach protested the motion. He felt an
odd....crinkling sensation down near his crotch and stared in horror at the
mulitcoloured slips of paper poking out from his underwear.
"You never told me you used to be a stripper," Kirk said almost accusingly. "I'm
very hurt that you're keeping these sorts of secrets from me."
"What the hell, Jim? I don't even OWN a thong!"
"You do now. Birthday present from Gaila." Kirk leaned forward and pulled a
bunch of notes from his crotch. "You know, if you're making this sort of money
I'm gonna expect a lot more Christmas presents this year."
With a garbled snarl, Bones shoved himself out of the bed and staggered to the
bathroom. Jim followed him the entire way, collecting notes as they fell from
his pants and making various commentaries. McCoy slammed the door in his face.
It didn't help.
"Oooh! This one's Andorian!"
Bones sighed and resisted the urge to put one hand over his own face and squeeze
very, very hard until his head imploded. It would probably only make his
hangover worse. A couple of hyposprays made life a bit more bearable - one perk
of rooming with Jim was that there were always plenty of hangover remedies on
hand.
Bracing his hands against the sink, he winced at his own reflection as various
memories came flooding back. There was a bar (obviously) and drinks (of course)
and something about lovin', touchin', and squeezin' each other.
Journey had a LOT to answer for.
There was a small explosion of bills across the bathroom as he took the thong
off, and he kicked them irritably out of the way before pulling open the door
and sling-shotting the underwear into his roommates face. Completely unabashed,
Kirk gleefully made his way into the bathroom as he stepped into the shower,
tugging free a small slip of paper that had clung to the material.
"Hey, is this Professor Glur's phone number? Ugh, Bones, how would that
even work?"
"Shut up and scrub this lipstick off my back."
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