You're Lucky I'm Drunk Pt. 1

These things always end up being love stories of a sort. I am, I guess, a closet romantic.

Cooper tripped into my apartment as soon as I opened the door. I couldn't stop laughing long enough to work the key out of the lock, so he had to crawl back and help me.

"I am so shitfaced," I confessed, feeling the world turn a little.

"Me too," Cooper sang, stumbling backward to let me shut the door behind us. He took a big breath and sang even louder, "Me tooooo, I am shitfaced!"

"Shut up; my fucking neighbors!" I hushed him. I was going to need to throw up again soon.

"I'll fuck your neighbors," Cooper snickered. My friend wandered to the fridge, poking through the old takeout containers before finding a couple bottles of Gatorade. He tossed one at me and then cracked his open. "It's got electrolytes," he said his best Idiocracy voice.

That reminded me that I still had puke on my shirt. "I gotta shower," I declared, dropping all the shit in my hands so I could pull my coat off. The floor tilted like a ship deck, but I made it all the way to the bathroom without falling over. No use in taking all my clothes off since they needed to be washed, too. The water pounding on my skull felt so good after the club. I was getting too old for all the smoke and fog machines and strobe lights. Ah, fuck, I was going to be that creepy old guy in the club. If Jennifer hadn't gotten a job in Seattle, we could have been the creepy old couple in the club. But no.

"Marshall! Marsh! What are you doing?" Cooper barged into the bathroom without knocking.

"Showering, dumbass."

"With all your clothes on?"

I groaned. Cooper liked to pretend that he could handle his liquor better than I. He'd go into concerned dad mode until I was taken care of, or whatever, until he'd get drunk enough to go fucking nuts. The last part was fun, but getting there could be annoying.

“Take them off. You're not going to get them clean in the shower.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled. I could have said more, but I puked instead. I hated vomiting. I knew I'd feel better afterward, but it sucked in the meantime.

Cooper rummaged around in the cabinet by the sink. “I got you,” he said, opening the shower door to shove my toothbrush and toothpaste in my hands. “Gimme your clothes.”

“They're puke-y.”

He folded his arms. “I have a three-year-old, Marshall. Bodily fluids don't scare me anymore.” The Dad effect was slightly ruined by his slurring, but I pulled my shirt off and tossed it over the shower door. Cooper wrung it out in the sink and waited for my jeans. Those took a little longer to get off; they kept getting stuck around my ankles. When I handed the soggy pants to him Cooper just stood there. I made a whirling motion with my finger.

Cooper cocked his head impatiently. “What?”

“Turn around so I can give you my underwear.”

“The towel is in the way,” he retorted, waving at the one draped over the bar on the shower door.

“Turn around,” I insisted.

“Ugh, fine.”

My briefs hit him in the back of the head with a wet slap, and I almost fell over I was laughing so hard.

“You fucking turd!” Cooper exclaimed.

I swiped at my washcloth and soap. “I have never been prouder of myself,” I declared, squinting as though it would help me bring the two items in my hands together.

"Hurry up so I can do that, too.," Cooper ordered. "I'll put these in the washer."

"Thanks, man." Once he was out of the bathroom I finished showering. God, it felt good to not smell like smoke and other people’s sweat. I grabbed the pair of sweatpants I'd left on the floor that morning, skipping the shirt and underwear when I couldn't find any that didn't smell like total ass.

Cooper was way faster than I—maybe he really was more sober—and I was still looking for my phone charger when I heard the water shut off. When I made it back to the kitchen Cooper had a lowball of bourbon in his hand. Good. Maybe he’d move past Drunk Dad mode.

“Want one?” he asked. I shook my head. Cooper shrugged. “Mas para mi.”

I flopped onto the couch. “Dude, I still can’t believe you almost got into a fight.”

My friend grinned. “Even if I get my ass beat, there’s nothing like being the hero for a lady.” He’d always been the first guy to tell an asshole to knock it off; it wasn’t the first time he’d pissed off a stranger.

“She did not fucking care.”

He rolled his eyes upward. “I just wanted to get with her hot friend.”

I snorted at that. “We could all tell.”

Cooper’s tone turned into a whine. “Even in the middle of the custody bullshit Nicole and I were having sex. Just get out of mediation and go fuck in a bathroom. Now I’m all stopped up.”

“That’s not a thing, Coop.”

Cooper strode over to fling open the balcony door. "I need some pussy! Pussy!" he shouted into the night.

"You're going to get me evicted," I complained, pushing myself off the couch to pull Cooper away from the door. He tried to fight me off, singing to the open door about how horny he was. I finally wrapped my arms around his waist and picked him up. I turned around and lost my balance at the same time, so it was pure luck that we landed on the couch instead of my coffee table. The bourbon would have to get cleaned up in the morning. It was a miracle that the glass had landed on the carpet instead of the concrete balcony.

“Quit spooning me! I need to find a lady hole!” Cooper complained. “Be a good bro.”

That made me snort. “Where are you going to find a woman who’s willing to fuck your drunk ass at this time?” I let go, but my friend didn't sit up. Instead, Cooper looked over his shoulder and blew a raspberry right in my face.

“That got up my nose!” I yelled, shoving him off the couch.

Laughing, Cooper climbed on top of me and tried to push me onto the floor. I put up a fight, but all that happened was that Cooper ended up straddling my legs while I pushed his head. It did not work, whatever either of us had been trying to do.

"Dude, you should just let me fuck you."

"Fuck off," I chuckled.

"But I'm so horny," Cooper whined, humping my leg like a dog.

I tried to shove him onto the floor. "Go jerk off," I suggested. “I still have the good kind of lube, and I will let you borrow my bathroom.”

Cooper laughed. “You're such a good friend.”

“I am an amazing friend.”

“But I want, no, no. Dude. Listen. It's like, my penis needs a place to call home. It knows my hand and it hates it.”

“What does that even mean?”

He made to move towards the balcony again and I grabbed him. “I need to fuck somebody!” He yelled at the open door.

“Shut the fuck up!” I hissed, trying to sound serious. “You're going to get me in trouble!”

He gave me a sly look. “Let me fuck you and I'll be quiet.”

“Fuck your hand and go to bed.”

Cooper made another raspberry at me. “I do that all the time. What I need is a warm, wet hole.”

“I do not have that.”

He humped my leg again. “You have two of them!”

I laughed, but Cooper didn't drop it.

“Just let me fuck you, just this once. Just one time.”

“You're officially wasted. No more booze for you.” I pointed at his face. “Go to bed.”

Cooper bit my finger and I screeched like a banshee.

“Ouch!”

"I can't sleep all boned up!” He raised a knowing eyebrow. “Nicole used to like, seriously love anal. I swear I'm good at it."

Slapping his thighs, I retorted, "I don't care what your ex likes; you're not fucking my ass!"

"Seriously, seriously. Seriously." Cooper grabbed my forearms and pinned them to my chest. "Seriously, it's a miracle we have a kid at all. Nicole was a freak in the sheets."

I was getting more detail about his former sex life in five minutes that I had during his six years of marriage. "Don't care."

"It'll feel good, I'm serious." Cooper gave me a knowing look. “I had a lot of practice. If I could get Michelle to squirt—”

“Oh my god, shut up, Cooper!” He was trying to shock me and it was working. I’d never be able to see Nicole again without thinking of her getting fucked in the ass, squirting all over the place.

He giggled. “I always knew when she was in the mood for butt stuff when she’d put a couple of towels down…”

"I’m not putting a towel down for you," I retorted.

"But what if I blow you first?"

I was still laughing, but it was starting to feel like Cooper really was trying to get in my pants. "Doesn't matter."

"But I'm so hard right now," he complained, pressing his crotch against me as proof. Goddam, he wasn't kidding.

"Why are you hard?” I yelled, trying to wiggle away. “Stop that!"

"I can't help it; I need to fuck someone so bad!"

A touch of panic helped me struggle hard enough to to free my right arm.  "Not my fucking problem," I retorted, pushing at Cooper’s shoulder.

He sat up a little. "But you're right here,” he pouted. If he were joking it would have been funny, but now I wasn't sure.

"I'm a dude," I tried. It sounded stupid coming out of my mouth.

"Yeah, well, I'm super gay for you right now."

I rapped my knuckles against his forehead. "That isn't a thing, Cooper."

"It is now, homes. Look at all this muscle." Cooper ran his hands down my chest before I grabbed his wrists.

"You have your own," I countered, hoping the hair on my chest hid how my nipples had suddenly perked up. I was so drunk.

"I know," Cooper said smugly. He wrenched his arms out of my grasp so he could pull his shirt off. "Check it. Been working on these fuckers all year." He smacked his abs and flexed.

That made me smile a little bit. "Dumbass."

His head tilted to the side. "Come on, Marshall." His voice turned low and smooth. "Come on."

I shook my head. The booze from earlier danced around my stomach; maybe I needed to eat something.

"I'll give you the best head you've ever had," he promised.

I pshawed. "Doubt it. Have you ever given head before?"

Cooper grinned. "How hard can it be?" He lingered on the second word, sitting a little more heavily on me.

"That's a no."

"Let's make a deal." Cooper pinched my mouth shut before I could disagree. "If I can suck you off, like, all the way, then I get to fuck you."

"Why would I ever agree to that?" I asked around his fingers.

Cooper let go of my lips to chuck my chin instead. "Because I'll make you come twice, baby."

"Ugh, don't call me that."

That smug grin reappeared. "Why not, sweetie pie? I'll make it good for you, darlin’."

"I will throw up on you again. I'll do it."

"It's not that big a deal, Marshall."

I rolled my eyes. “It feels like it definitely is.”

“It doesn't have to be,” he said slowly.

I had a little trouble finding my voice. “I don't think it can help itself.”

Cooper sat back and looked at me for a moment. We gazed at each other in silence; he appeared to be analyzing me. I was trying to figure out how serious he was. Wasn't there a big-ass line we shouldn't cross? Or was I the only one who could see it?

Finally I groaned. "Ugh, what the fuck ever. Just this once."