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After the New Year’s spectacle that would forever be referred to as the Hiney Pet Incident, Ed made it a point to never again get wasted at the end of the year. (Other major holidays were still a go as he had yet to make a complete ass of himself during those occasions.) And so after a night of liquor-less celebration, he stripped off his pants and shirt and climbed into bed, congratulating himself on having remained sober the entire night.
And speaking of sober…
“An oooooold acquaintance tooooouched my cock...”
… Roy was most decidedly not.
The teen rolled his eyes as his lover staggered into the bedroom and continued to bellow a version of “Auld Lang Syne” that was inappropriately comical, not to mention downright obscene.
“I fuuuuuucked him from behiiiiiiind!”
“Roy!”
The inebriated man stopped and blinked at his annoyed partner, his body weaving to and fro. “Huh? What is it, baby?”
“Keep your damn voice down or you’re going to wake up the whole neighbor-”
Ed paused suddenly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“… Did you just call me baby?” he asked.
Roy’s lips curled in a drunken smirk. “Maybe... baby.”
He grinned at his own cleverness--which really wasn’t all that clever.
Ed, on the other hand, was not amused.
“Don’t ever do that again. Now get your ass into bed.”
The young man sighed in agitation and pulled back the blanket on Roy’s half of the bed. Roy stumbled the rest of the way over and flopped down on the mattress face first. Ed supposed that he should count his blessings that Roy managed even that much as opposed to collapsing on the floor.
“I guess sex is out of the question,” he muttered.
Roy flipped over with a grunt. “No, no, no, we can do the sex,” he slurred as he reached out for Ed and accidentally smacked him in the face. “We’re gonna do all the sex.”
Before Ed could even think to respond to such an oh-so-arousing promise, the sound of snoring filled the room. The blond glared at the passed out man and shook his head.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing his arm and shaking it.
Roy awoke with a loud snort. (At least Ed hoped that was a snort.) He then flipped onto his side and was asleep again within seconds.
And that was that.
Ed gawked at him, completely dumbfounded. But what else could he do other than accept his defeat and curl up beside him?
“Happy New Year, you drunk bastard.”
“Breda ate my taco.”
Oh yeah. The next twelve months were going to be a blast.