2021-10-04 15:11![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellfire_andfury
hellfire_andfuryFor the Hugging Prompt 33. Picking Them Up Hugs
Vars and Viktor had gotten into a playfight over who would drink the last mouthful of Akvavit. They were both pretty much very drunk and the Brit was more worse off than the Norwegian, yet Viktor was still on his feet, albeit swaying a little and laughing. They were drinking on a patch of grass just outside of the hotel since Joe and Aarne had flooded the upstairs bathroom and all hell was kicking off inside with Tom and Robert yelling at the two imbeciles. High, drunk and crazy. That's what most of the staff had called the two Terror Twins when they had informed Tom of the shit going on upstairs in their room. So, the punks had decided to take their booze and have their fun outside.
Lighting a small fire in a pit by the parking lot they were now sitting on the soft grass drinking and mucking around punching each other and being themselves. The Akvavit---that had made them both very drunk since they had drank the whole bottle in under an hour. All that was left was one small mouthful at the end of the bottle.
"Fuck! We're---we're nearly out of booze, mate. What the fuck shall we do?"
Viktor getting up to his feet, swaying and grabbing hold of Vars by the shoulders, punching him and then proceeding to fall back onto his ass. The Norwegian laughing at his lover because Brits got fucked on Akvavit. Just ask Mick. The real punishment was in the morning when the hangover hit like a jack hammer to the head. The Mule. A bastard of a kick.
"You too drunk. Can't get up. Lazy Brit."
Vars teasing Viktor as he sat back down to join the singer offering a hard punch to the other man's shoulder. Not wanting to look weak, Viktor got up and then ran over to one of the parked cars in the parking lot, climbing up onto it and laughing as he had grabbed the Akvavit bottle and was now draining the last few drops, swallowing and then proceeding to throw the bottle at another car's window, hearing the smash of glass as it smashed the windscreen. The Brit flicking his lighter open and lighting up a cigarette. Was he showing off? Oh yes.
Vars laughed when the bottle smashed against the car windscreen and jumped up to join his lover on the top of the car's roof. Was there cameras recording this shit? So what. They would get smashed soon enough by the punks if the cops were called.
"We're having a good time here, mate. Fuck the cops!"
Viktor grabbing hold of Vars and kissing him on the lips whilst trying not to wobble off the car roof. The bassist wrapping both arms around the Brit, holding him close and then biting his lip. Both men loved kissing each other roughly and now was even better whilst drunk. Viktor then felt his right foot slip off the roof as his legs refused to work properly. Shit---
"Fuck---I can't---"
Then, he was falling backwards, slipping off the roof of the car towards the hard asphalt ground below. Vars, even though drunk, acted quickly, grabbing the Brit and pulling him into a tight hug. A full bodied hug in mid-air whilst Viktor gasped and then swore loudly. His hands found themselves embedded in Vars's jacket as he heaved himself upwards back onto the car roof.
"Here, I pull. Grab arms. Pull up."
Viktor nodded, pulling himself up more and then standing back up still hugging Vars. Both men breathing a sigh of relief since one wrong fall and Viktor could have cracked his head open or worse. Hitting your head from a height could have killed him. Vars now worried about his lover's safety, pulled him in for a hug and then punched his arm slightly.
"You could have fall. Near dead. Stupid drunk."
It was true enough as Viktor's speech was becoming even more slurred and his balance was shot to hell. Time to get off the car and get back into the hotel room.
Vars and Viktor had gotten into a playfight over who would drink the last mouthful of Akvavit. They were both pretty much very drunk and the Brit was more worse off than the Norwegian, yet Viktor was still on his feet, albeit swaying a little and laughing. They were drinking on a patch of grass just outside of the hotel since Joe and Aarne had flooded the upstairs bathroom and all hell was kicking off inside with Tom and Robert yelling at the two imbeciles. High, drunk and crazy. That's what most of the staff had called the two Terror Twins when they had informed Tom of the shit going on upstairs in their room. So, the punks had decided to take their booze and have their fun outside.
Lighting a small fire in a pit by the parking lot they were now sitting on the soft grass drinking and mucking around punching each other and being themselves. The Akvavit---that had made them both very drunk since they had drank the whole bottle in under an hour. All that was left was one small mouthful at the end of the bottle.
"Fuck! We're---we're nearly out of booze, mate. What the fuck shall we do?"
Viktor getting up to his feet, swaying and grabbing hold of Vars by the shoulders, punching him and then proceeding to fall back onto his ass. The Norwegian laughing at his lover because Brits got fucked on Akvavit. Just ask Mick. The real punishment was in the morning when the hangover hit like a jack hammer to the head. The Mule. A bastard of a kick.
"You too drunk. Can't get up. Lazy Brit."
Vars teasing Viktor as he sat back down to join the singer offering a hard punch to the other man's shoulder. Not wanting to look weak, Viktor got up and then ran over to one of the parked cars in the parking lot, climbing up onto it and laughing as he had grabbed the Akvavit bottle and was now draining the last few drops, swallowing and then proceeding to throw the bottle at another car's window, hearing the smash of glass as it smashed the windscreen. The Brit flicking his lighter open and lighting up a cigarette. Was he showing off? Oh yes.
Vars laughed when the bottle smashed against the car windscreen and jumped up to join his lover on the top of the car's roof. Was there cameras recording this shit? So what. They would get smashed soon enough by the punks if the cops were called.
"We're having a good time here, mate. Fuck the cops!"
Viktor grabbing hold of Vars and kissing him on the lips whilst trying not to wobble off the car roof. The bassist wrapping both arms around the Brit, holding him close and then biting his lip. Both men loved kissing each other roughly and now was even better whilst drunk. Viktor then felt his right foot slip off the roof as his legs refused to work properly. Shit---
"Fuck---I can't---"
Then, he was falling backwards, slipping off the roof of the car towards the hard asphalt ground below. Vars, even though drunk, acted quickly, grabbing the Brit and pulling him into a tight hug. A full bodied hug in mid-air whilst Viktor gasped and then swore loudly. His hands found themselves embedded in Vars's jacket as he heaved himself upwards back onto the car roof.
"Here, I pull. Grab arms. Pull up."
Viktor nodded, pulling himself up more and then standing back up still hugging Vars. Both men breathing a sigh of relief since one wrong fall and Viktor could have cracked his head open or worse. Hitting your head from a height could have killed him. Vars now worried about his lover's safety, pulled him in for a hug and then punched his arm slightly.
"You could have fall. Near dead. Stupid drunk."
It was true enough as Viktor's speech was becoming even more slurred and his balance was shot to hell. Time to get off the car and get back into the hotel room.
