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Isak is great at holding his liquor. The best at it, probably. He can do shot after shot and not throw up, and the next day he’s only mildly hungover, that’s how great he is. For example, tonight alone he’s done at least six shots probably, and he’s had like 2 or 3 beers or something like that, and he feels great. He could’ve drank even more and been fine if only Jonas hadn’t stepped in and cut him off, which, who the hell is Jonas to tell Isak not to drink?
He did stop, though. Except now, he’s sitting next to Jonas on the couch and pouting, rejecting every single offer of weed. Fuck Jonas, fuck his rules, fuck his weed; that’s the way Isak sees it. Well, not fuck Jonas, because Isak may like sex as much as the next guy (as long as the next guy isn’t ace), but that ship has long since sailed. And besides, he’s way too mad at Jonas to even consider sleeping with him.
“You’re mean,” Isak says, for the thirteenth time, and Jonas just nods. “You know, you could at least be a decent friend and respond to me when I’m insulting you.”
“Isak, dude, I love you, but you’re annoying as hell.”
Isak sniffs, “Fine. Fuck you, then. Maybe I’ll just go hang out with Magnus.” He scans his eyes across the room, finding Vilde and Eva making out against the wall, and Sana next to them, holding a bottle of beer (probably Eva’s) and texting. “Or Sana. Sana likes me. She’s my new best bud, because I don’t like you anymore. I bet Sana will let me drink,” he says indignantly.
“I don’t care, man. Go hang with Sana.”
“Maybe the fuck I will.” Isak pushes himself off the couch and shoves his way through the crowd of drunk people and over to Sana. “You know, I’m pretty sure alcohol isn’t halal,” he teases, holding himself up with a hand on the wall as he smiles dopily at Sana. She gives him a hard look at first, but it softens, probably upon realizing he’s halfway to blackout drunk.
She nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m just holding it for Eva while she gives Vilde CPR,” she sighs, shaking her head a little. Isak teases her again, says it’s normal for girls to kiss, and this time Sana does glare. “I know, Isak. But it looks like they’re going to suck each other's faces off. I would hardly call that kissing.”
Isak looks over and finds himself agreeing with Sana. Whatever Eva and Vilde are doing, it’s too sloppy to be called kissing. He wonders how drunk they are. “Okay, yeah, I get your point,” he allows, turning back to Sana before hitting his forehead on the wall. “Sana, I want a hot boy to kiss. Will you help me find one?” He pouts. Sana opens her mouth, but then closes it again, clearly trying to hold back a smirk. He groans and pulls at her arm. “Please? This isn’t funny, Sana, I’m horny.”
“Okay, first, too much information. Second, you’re way too drunk, so you shouldn’t be hooking up with anyone. And third..” She smirks again, and then points over at the kitchen. “Go talk to him about kisses.” Isak follows her finger and gasps when he sees the guy she’s talking about. He’s tall and handsome, but not very dark, because his hair is blonde and his eyes are blue and his smile lights up the whole room. Isak groans again, leaning his back against the wall and eyeing the tall drink of water at the bar.
Jonas always says Isak needs to drink more water when he’s drunk.
“He’s so out of my league,” Isak mumbles, and he hears Sana laugh. “Don’t laugh at me, it’s true. Look at him, for fuck’s sake. He could be a fucking...a fucking... I don’t know, a model or something. Sana.” He turns to her and puts on his best puppy dog eyes. “Please go over there with me. I’m too scared to go on my own. Be my wing woman!” He begs, and Sana stares at him for a long moment before agreeing. He presses a smacking kiss to her cheek and then follows her over to the literal hottest guy that Isak’s ever seen in his life.
The tall boy smiles when Sana and Isak approach him, chirping out, “Halla!” His voice is deep and smooth, and tinged with a little bit of tipsiness at the edges. Isak is so in love with him, with both his heart and his dick, and he can’t decide which type of love should take precedence. Probably his heart, because that’s the only thing that’ll work properly when he’s this plastered.
“Halla. Isak is super drunk and wanted someone to kiss, so I brought him to you. Have fun.” She pats Isak’s arm before walking away, and Isak scowls at her for a solid thirty two seconds before remembering that there’s a hot guy waiting for Isak to flirt with him, probably.
He smiles at the hot boy. “Hi. I’m Isak,” he grins, and the hot boy gives him a strange look before accepting Isak’s offer for a handshake. Isak just beams. Hot boy’s hands are soft, and he thinks he just developed a fetish for them. He has to concentrate very hard on not pulling one of the hot boy’s fingers into his mouth.
“Even,” hot boy says slowly, and Isak’s new focus becomes not moaning at just his name. Hot boy’s name is sexy. Who the hell knew Isak had a kink for names?
“You’re hot,” Isak blurts, and he thinks he might’ve just fucked up, but Even just laughs. Isak grins. “You know, I think your outfit is like 20% of your good looks. And that’s cool and all, but they’d look so much better on my floor. Don’t you think?”
Even laughs harder this time. “They probably would. But you’re way too drunk for that, I think.” When Isak pouts, Even reaches out to brush hair out of Isak’s face. “Besides, Sana said you only came over here for kisses?”
“Sana was wrong. Wait. You know Sana?”
“Um. Yes?” He gives Isak another strange look, and Isak folds his arms and demands Even explain why he keeps giving Isak looks. Is there something in his teeth? Like, fuck. “No, no, nothing like that,” Even explains. “Just... you’re so hot it’s making me nervous,” Even finally manages. It sounds a little stilted, but Isak’s so drunk that he doesn’t think anything of it.
He smiles smugly, reaching to lean against the counter. His hand misses, though, and he goes toppling over, only saved from hitting his head on the granite by Even’s arms wrapped tightly around him. They work together to get Isak steady on his feet again, Isak mumbling how much he hates gravity and Even just laughing at Isak falling. Isak glares at him, which makes Even laugh harder, which makes Isak forget why he’s mad, so he laughs, too.
“Maybe we should get you home, don’t you think?” Even says, and Isak smirks, poking Even’s sternum.
“I knew you wanted to go home with me.”
Even laughs again. “Of course I want to go home with you. I’ll go get your coat and you go say bye to Jonas, okay? You don’t want him to worry.” He kisses Isak’s forehead and Isak preens. Fuck anyone who ever said he has no game, because he’s drunk off his ass and yet he’s still got a hot boy wrapped around his finger this quickly. Isak should write a book or something. He nods and stumbles off, looking around for Jonas. He’s not on the couch anymore, so Isak goes looking upstairs.
He finds Eva and Vilde sneaking into a bedroom, and he can’t help the impressed look that crosses his face. Good for them. He checks on the other rooms, only to get a glimpse of a dick he did not want to see. Jonas’s. Which, first year him probably would’ve fucking died or something, but as he said, that ship sailed a long ass time ago. And besides, he just scored a super hot fucking guy.
Isak quickly shuts the door behind him, yelling out an apology before making his way downstairs. He loses focus when he sees Even standing at the bottom waiting for him, and falls down the final four stairs. Once again, Even catches him and saves his ass. Isak really owes this guy one hell of a fuck.
They kiss a lot on the tram back to Isak’s. Like, a lot. Even is the best kisser Isak’s ever kissed, he thinks. He seems to know exactly what Isak likes, which makes it very hard for them to keep their interactions PG. Even also laughs at him a lot, which Isak does not appreciate; but the kisses mostly make up for it. Isak fucking loves kisses.
His flat is a mess, but Isak doesn’t particularly care. He takes his shirt off as soon as they’re over the threshold, pulling Even in for more hungry kisses. Even hums into it, lets Isak take his shirt off for him, and then picks Isak up and carries him to bed. They make out with Isak’s back pressed against the mattress for quite a long time, tongues working together. Even tastes like the vodka cranberry he was drinking when Isak approached him, and Isak thinks that’s weirdly familiar. Isak doesn’t think any of his friends drink vodka cranberries, but maybe they do? Isak doesn’t fucking remember, he’s inebriated by alcohol and kisses.
The only bad thing is that Isak has whiskey dick. Horribly. He can’t get it up no matter how much coaxing there is, and Even refuses to help. He keeps insisting that they’re not having sex and it pisses Isak off, because why the hell did Even bring him home if not to fuck him? Isak groans and says a resounding fuck you to both his dick and his date, neither of which will actually be fucking, apparently.
“Let me go get you some water,” Even offers, and Isak pouts. “Take off your jeans and I’ll get you a big glass, okay? It might help,” Even placates, and Isak agrees, thinking Even finally came around to the idea of having sex. Isak takes his jeans off and lets Even kiss him for just a minute longer, until Even finally excuses himself to the kitchen. Isak shouts that the glasses are in the cupboard next to the refrigerator before leaning against the pillows, waiting patiently for Even to come back.
He’s asleep before he even hears the sound of Even pouring water.
Isak wakes up in the morning with cotton mouth and a pounding headache, and a warm arm draped around his waist. His eyes widen, because he distinctly remembers bringing someone home last night, and he’s in his boxers, and oh God, did he fucking cheat on Even? Fuck fuck fuck.
He sits up so fast that he nearly vomits, wildly looking around to see who the hell is in bed with him. He sighs in relief when he just sees Even, his face pressed into the side of Isak’s pillow. Isak flops back down and pushes his unruly curls out of his face, trying to pray and make the sun stop shining so it’ll stop hurting his fucking head by being so bright. It’s really quite rude.
“Morning, baby,” Even says, his voice gruff with sleep. Isak smiles and turns over, traces Even’s jaw and hairline. “You feeling okay? Must be pretty hungover, you had a lot to drink last night.”
Isak scoffs, “Whatever. I was not that drunk. I know my limit, Even.” He decides not to mention that he barely remembers anything about last night, to preserve his dignity. Even does not need to know that Isak is just as much of a messy drunk as the infamous Eva Kviig Mohn, which— “Eva and Vilde hooked up last night. I think it’s about time, they’ve been making heart eyes at each other for forever.”
Even hums, finally cracking open his eyes. Isak smiles and kisses him gently, before resuming running his fingers across Even’s skin. “You remember that?” He asks, and Isak nods. “Oh. What else do you remember? Do you remember trying to bring me home last night?” He asks, with a teasing lilt, and Isak furrows his eyebrows.
“Bring you home? You got that drunk, that I had to help you home while I was drunk?”
“No,” Even chuckles, and Isak just gets more fucking confused. Even apparently notices, because he laughs even harder. “Baby, you don’t remember? Fuck, you made Sana bring you to me because apparently you wanted kisses. And you, like, introduced yourself to me and kept trying to flirt. I went to get you water last night and you told me where the cups where.”
Isak blushes, looking away. “Oh. I don’t, uh. I don’t remember that, actually.” He gives Even a sheepish smile, before covering his face with his hands as Even laughs again. “God, I can’t believe I forgot you were my boyfriend. And we’ve been together for a year!” He groans, and Even cackles. “You should be flattered, you know. I remember thinking that whoever I flirted with was the hottest guy ever and way out of my league.”
“Aw, baby,” Even coos, leaning forward to kiss Isak. Isak kisses back, because he really does love kisses. As long as they’re Even’s kisses, of course. “It did make me happy to know that you still want me even when you’re too drunk to remember me,” he grins, and Isak blushes again, mumbling for him to shut up. Even coos again and pulls Isak closer, letting Isak tuck his face into Even’s neck.
“I owe you one hell of a blowjob for putting you through that,” Isak mumbles, and Even laughs again. Isak doesn’t really think it’s that funny.
(Okay, maybe it is. But just a little.)
(Okay, it’s hilarious. He wouldn’t let Even live it down if the roles were reversed.)
(Even probably won’t make fun of Isak too long, because he loves Isak a lot.
Isak loves him, too.)
Even rubs his back, pressing lots of kisses all over Isak’s face. After a while, it’s impossible for Isak to keep pretending to be annoyed, and he just returns as many of Even’s kisses as he can. “You can do that later, baby. I know you’ve been keen on it since last night,” he teases, and Isak flips him off, “but you’re hungover. I make one hell of a hangover breakfast, you know.”
“I do know. We’ve lived together for over half a year, baby.”
“Just in case you needed a reminder,” Even winks, climbing out of bed and making his way to the kitchen. Isak doesn’t stop himself from staring at Even’s ass. It’s a nice ass, objectively. “You know, like I needed a reminder on where the cups were in my own flat.”
Isak tears his eyes away from Even’s bum at that dig. “Oh, fuck you.”
“Patience, baby. This isn’t a one night stand, at least, not to my knowledge. Unless you have a different memory...”
Isak groans, pushing his pillow over his head so he doesn’t have to hear Even making bad jokes and laughing at him while he makes breakfast. Isak loves Even to death, but he does not make good jokes, and Isak does not like being made fun of for what he’s done when he’s drunk. He should not be held accountable for idiocy when he’s drunk, no matter what Even seems to think.
Even is right about one thing, though. He makes one hell of a hangover breakfast.