Chapter Text
This can't be happening.
He can't get arrested, not again . He didn't even remember being brought down to the station. All he can gather from his hazy memories is that he was in the pub with Marco and the boys, and flirting with the bartender. And okay - he might've drank a little bit too much, or that cute bartender spiked his drink after the argument about Bayern vs Dortmund, which he was totally winning, thank you very much.
Where is Marco anyway? That damn son of a bitch. Some friend he is. You don't leave a bro for dead in the police station. That's the code.
His head is pounding and the world is spinning and he's fighting the urge to throw up, because from his past uh, run-ins with the law, throwing up in the station guarantees another night in the cell. And he hated the cell.
"Hey, Müller, you're up!"
"Ugh, not so loud, please," Thomas groaned, massaging his temples. "Why am I here anyway?" The young officer approached him. He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You really don't remember?" Thomas gave him an annoyed look. "If I did I wouldn't ask, Hummels."
Hummels laughed. God, if his head wasn't killing him right now, he would totally tap that. The young, hot, and totally bangable officer opened up the cell door and pointed to the phone. "Go make your phone call, you have 5 minutes." He ruffled Thomas' hair as he walked past.
"What did I do anyway?" Thomas asked, leaning against the wall while he pressed the familiar number.
"You dressed up in a chicken suit, stormed into KFC and shouted 'I DEMAND TO HAVE MY CHILDREN BACK!'"
"You're shitting me."
"I wish. Arresting you in that chicken suit is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The feathers was everywhere."
Thomas stared at him. He was about to make a comment about how sexy the officer is in his uniform, when the person at the other line of the phone cock-blocked him.
"Scheiße, Thomas, what did you did this time?"
"I'm offended, Ducky. How did you know it was me?"
"Because you're the only one stupid enough to get arrested the night before classes starts."
Thomas pouts. "Well? Are you gonna bail me out?"
Manu grumbles. "Do I have a choice?"
The younger man grins. "Nope, you swore an oath. You're stuck with me for life."
"How much is it?"
Thomas turns to Hummels and repeated the question.
"Twenty-five."
"Hundreds?"
"Thousand."
Thomas blinked.
"FOR STORMING INTO A KFC DRESSED AS A CHICKEN?"
"The restaurant was closed." Hummels opened up a folder and started to read off his charges. "So you have, breaking and entering, public disturbance, and resisting arrest." He closed the folder and look at Thomas with a shit-eating grin. "All in one night. Congratulations."
If he wasn't so hot Thomas would probably punch him.
"Mülli, how much?" Manu said impatiently. He can hear the older man getting dressed.
"Twenty-five thousand," Thomas said, the defeat was apparent in his voice.
It was quiet for a moment.
"You're so dead this time."
"No shit."