Dull sunlight filtered through a moth-eaten curtain as Ben drowsily sat up in bed, his sleep and alcohol-addled mind prohibiting any coherent thought. Dazed, he looked around the room, a sharp pain blossoming in the back of his scalp and radiating to the crown of his head. He groaned, clutching his head in his hands, trying to think through the thobbing that made his skull feel like it was about to split in two. Gingerly he combed his fingers through his bedhead, trying to massage the hangover away, but to no avail. He collapsed backward onto a pillow, trying to desperately ignore the ringing in his ears and the nausea that whirled in the pit of his stomach.
He frowned as he closed his eyes. He shouldn't have a hangover, he usually had a high alcohol tolerance. Same with drugs. Jeff was usually the light weight of the two, if anyone was hungover, it should be him...
Speaking of Jeff, where the hell was he...? Ben could barely remember anything that happened last night. He knew he probably did something with someone, but he didn't expect to actually wake up in someone's bed. Whose bed was this...? He hissed in pain as another pang shot through his head; too early for questions.
Eyes still half closed, he rummaged around looking for his hat. His hat... he needed that. It had everything. His hands clumsily patted the blanket in front of him, sliding to his left, his right, and back again in a fruitless search. Or, at least, until they bumped into what felt like a body lying next to him. He didn't really look at what he had touched, rather, his hands continued to roam and explore, gliding though long thin hair, brushing down a firm back after feeling broad shoulders...
Ben's eyes shot open as it fully registered in his mind exactly who he was touching. He head whipped to the side, drinking in the snoring form of Jeff, whose burnt hair slightly fell into his face, and his back gently rose and fell in time to his inhales and exhales. Ben practically fell out of bed, partially tangling himself in the covers and bringing them down with him. As he struggled to pick himself off of the floor, he tried to recover from his shock and pull on his boxers. Yeah, it wasn't the first time he'd done this kind of thing, but with Jeff? They were bros! Friends! Just some dudes that hung out and got high occasionally. There was nothing even remotely sexual about their relationship...
Well, until now.
The sight of Jeff seemed to trigger Ben's memory of last night... how the alcohol had finally taken over their systems. When a joking innuendo became a boiling hot reality. How Ben's back had arched in pleasure; how his toes had curled when he was pushed over the edge, how his tongue had danced over his partener's body, savoring his scent and flavor...
He recalled as they started on the sofa, to the floor, against the wall, and then to Jeff's bedroom... how high the temperature seemed to rise as their lips met in a heated, drunken fire. How they had no idea what was actually happening when they tugged their shirts over their heads and kicked their pants to the ground... how everything became one blur of esctasy, spinning around them and consuming all hesitation and rationality. And the craziest part...
Was that even in their intoxicated state, neither of them seemed to mind.
Ben was definately sober when he was processing all of this, but he was convinced that he had to still be feeling the influence of all the beer and vodka an whatever else he thought would be a grand idea to consume last night. Because there was just no way this was real... but it certainly was. He had a one night stand with one of his closest friends. And he was really not looking foward to how Jeff would react to this little tidbit of news when he woke up.
As if on cue, Jeff stirred, pulling up his sleeping mask (that he had to use, seeing that he couldn't close his eyes) and drowsily regarding the room around him in a similiar fashion that Ben had earlier, his eyes glazing over Ben.
"Oh, hey man." Jeff said, yawning the end of his sentence. It took about five seconds for it to register. "Holy shit!" he shrieked, scrambling out of bed and falling on the floor with a hard thump. Jeff didn't seem to know what to say, but he did manage to get out a couple of phrases through his frantic shock, amoungst them being, "Did we...?! Drunk...! Fucking one night stand...?!" Ben just nodded.
"Uh...yeah..." he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and shifting uncomfortably. "Erm... this is... really awkward." Jeff gave him a 'no shit?' look and also sat on the bed, seating himself on the side opposite Ben, shifting the covers he had to conceal his private area. They were silent, avoiding each others eyes, looking down at the floor. After a while, Jeff cleared his throat and spoke up.
"Do you remember anything?" he didn't have to elaborate for Ben to know what he meant. After debating for a moment, Ben replied.
"Not alot. It's all a blur, like usual." he said, shrugging his lean shoulders. It wasn't a complete lie, it was true, he really didn't remember alot. But Jeff probably didn't want to know the details. Jeff felt the bed shift and found Ben getting up, continuing the search for his hat. He got up and mimicked a similiar search for his underwear, only to find them no where in his room. Still holding his sheets to his body, he peered outside, to find his boxers in a small lump in the middle of the corridor. He hastily snatched up the article of clothing, and made to dash back inside his room, but he stopped when he found the remaining party goers from last night.
Eyeless Jack lay on the couch, his mask slightly askew and his hoodie slightly unzipped as an arm and leg of his dangled off the sofa. Smile Dog snored at his feet, his paws up in the air as he snoozed on his back, his tongue lolling out of his open jaws. Upon further investigation, Jeff found other familiar creepypasta, such as the Rake, Lost Silver, and even Jane (which surprised him) in a similiar state. However, Slenderman and his brothers were no where to be found. Slendy's proxies seemed to have left, too. Go figure.
So, in short, everyone was wasted. Such a nice thing to wake up to.
After quickly sliding on his underwear, Jeff slinked back to his room, and found Ben had aready gathered all of his clothes and put on his all-important hat. They continued to look at each other, trying to decifer what the other was thinking.
"It doesn't have to mean anything, you know." Jeff said. "It was all a mistake. We're still bros..."
"Oh, uh, yeah," Ben held out his fist. "Bros." But even a proclamation of broship wasn't really enough to completely dissapate the awkwardness that still hung in the air and suffocated them both. There was still something that was left unsaid. It went through Ben's mind first, and he had to work up alot of courage before he had the nerve to say it aloud. "It... really wasn't all that bad." Jeff looked at him, apalled. "I mean," Ben hastily added, "That I don't feel for you that way, but was it really so bad? We both..." a significant pause filled the air before he said the last part, "...didn't seem to mind." Jeff seemed to relax a little as he registered what Ben said. In his mind, he knew Ben had a point.
"True..." he said, spotting a band t-shirt of his that lay forgotten by his bed. Stooping down, his shimmied on the shirt before once more facing Ben. "I guess it's not a big deal." Now it was Jeff's turn to pause and prepare himself for what he was about to say. "... Wanna do it again sometime?" Ben's eyes widened, and looked disbelievingly at Jeff, who met his gaze steadily. "It would be better than what we normally do; picking up random sleazy chicks... and we could still be friends." he said, not breaking eye contact.
It felt like an eternity had gone by when Ben finally nodded. He went to walk past Jeff and exit the room, saying one last thing before he left.
"Sure... what do we have to lose?"