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The night had somehow managed to become progressively worse. Or better depending on your level of intoxication. What had started out as a casual post-victory cocktail had snaked its way into a full blown party complete with terrible karaoke, copious amounts of alcohol and a plethora of pizza boxes littering the rec room floor. I had somehow found myself in the midst of a game of Blackjack, my alcohol-induced haze making every thought and every decision that much less meticulous. Demo had unbundled the old card table from the broom closet and placed it in the middle of the room, a shit-eating grin dogging his features.
“PLAY ME!” He had roared out, over the cacophony of noise of a very intoxicated Engie stuttering over the words to a Bob Dylan song. Medic and I had been in a not so deep conversation regarding the human race and mortality vs morality. Drunk Me was a philosopher. Or a slut. Or a pouter. Or an angry beast. Ya know, it really just depended on the situation. Anyways, Demo had yelled out again and with a heavy sigh, I had excused myself from the giggling doctor and made my way to the table, taking a seat at one of the four chairs.
“Aye, lass. This is no game for those faint of heart. Unless ye are into strippin' and the like.” He smirked down at me, the acrid stench of Degroot’s Finest filling my nostrils. I peered up at him, a thin veil of haziness overtaking my senses and grinned.
“Only if I lose, baby cakes.”
He let out a raucous howl of laughter followed closely by a deep breath. “Right. Let’s get some more people in here, yeh? 2 more seats for the universe’s greatest strip Blackjack game! Come test yer luck against the greatest player of all time - ME! - and this lovely lass right here!” I heard a chair being skid and looked to my right. His hat and glasses had managed to stay on through his drunken expedition but his face was beet red and his grin was wide and bright. My breath caught in my throat. Strip poker? With Snipes? Together? Oh shit. He looked up at me as I felt a blush creep across my already drunken features. I attempted to play it off by grabbing the pack of cards that had been tossed onto the table by Demo and started to shuffle. I would need more alcohol for this. I looked up right as Pyro squatted down next to me, gas mask abandoned for the night. I looked into her bright blue eyes. She placed a finger to my lips and bent my head forward, kissing my forehead. I looked at her inquisitively as she handed me a glass, the dark brown liquid nearly filled to the brim. I looked down at the glass. This was her thing. Get me super drunk and then hand me more and more and more throughout the night. What if she hated drunk me and wanted me past the point of no return? Was I that bad of a drunk? I felt a flick on my left ear and looked up with a surprised yelp. She shook her head, eyebrows cast into a disapproving stare. Ugh. She could read my mind, I swear. She nudged the drink closer to my lips.
“Am I gonna die from this?” She stared at me expectantly. I heard a deep rumble of laughter next to me. Fuckin' Snipes. “Dude.” I managed to slur out. “Dude. I remember that time with the Pangalactic Gargleblaster and holy shit, I can’t --” She flicked me again, this time between the eyes. She patted my head and skipped away, presumably off to find her stupid German doctor. I looked down at the beverage and upended it. It tasted horrible. There had to have been like 4 different kinds of liquor in it. I got halfway through the glass before I came up for a breath, eyes squinched shut. I heard a sharp intake of breath and looked over, Snipes mouth agape and his hat tilted back. I nudged the drink to him, all semblance of embarrassment gone as the liquid courage allowed me the power to overcome the feelings that I had had for this stupid foreign bushman for the last three years. He looked me in the eye and smiled, wrapping his long, thin fingers around my own bandaged palms and bringing the glass towards him. He ran his hand up my arm as he took the glass and upended the rest of it. I stared, shocked really. I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed. I was no where near being a religious person but Lord did I pray just then. Lord Jesus. If you are the kinky son-of-a-bitch I sincerely hope you are, let this man ravage me with his tongue and hands tonight and for the rest of eternity. Amen. I opened my eyes when I felt the fingers on my arm twitch. I looked up at him, our eyes half-lidded from the ungodly amount of giggle juice we had consumed and a fair amount of lust. This was all just a dream. All of it. Even Heavy attempting to pat his head and rub his tummy with Pyro over in the corner. I looked up to see Demo eyeing us.
“Aye, mukkers. We haven’t even taken our clothes off yet and ye both be lookin' at each other with stars in ye eyes.” He let out a bark of laughter and upended the last drops in his bottle, tossing it into the ever growing pile on the kitchen counter. He stalked over and grabbed another before reaching for Soldier’s arm and guiding him over to the table, the latter stumbling over his feet as he attempted to keep up with the explosions expert. “Ye will be joinin' us. Ye know how to play Blackjack yeh?” Soldier nodded his thick necked frame in agreement as he shed his helmet and bandolier, making himself comfortable in the chair to my left. “Right then. Let’s do this!” I looked around as the rest of the ridiculously lewd mercenaries pulled up chairs and stood behind us as Demo went over the rules of the game - this event far more riveting than the conversations and music that had been filtering through the building all night.
About thirty minutes had passed since we started and everyone was close to blackout drunk. Words were hard to mumble and interpret. Laughter was still prevalent and jeers and cheers wafted across the room, everyone managing to pick favorites. I sat in my jeans and bra, shoeless, as I played my card. Sniper’s hat had been given to me a couple of rounds ago and now hung low over my eyes, the perfect poker face. Snipes had lost his hat, outer shirt, boots, and belt - all of which had been a divine miracle to witness as he had stripped of the clothing after each loss. Soldier was near naked with only his combat boots and boxers adorning his bulky frame. Demo had all but given up with only his under shirt and tighty-whities protecting him from the lecherous eyes that roamed the game. I had managed to develop a couple of fans. Pyro, of course, sat on her knees - eyes level with the table - as she watched with bated breath. Engie had also taken to my fan club - his hand steady on the back of my chair as he leaned over my shoulder, his breath tickling my bare skin. Heavy had taken a spot behind Soldier, nudging him every now and again to keep him awake. He was munching on a sandwich, his large fingers encircling the moist bread and crumbs coating his lips. Medic had taken refuge behind Demo - attempting to calm the somewhat angered Scotsman as he lost yet another round. Spy stood quietly behind Sniper, watching with interest at the nail-biting event that unfurled right before his eyes. The cards were shuffled and redealt. I waited, watching my comrades, as they laid down their cards - expressions mostly blank. I laid my card of choice and the totals were added up.
“Well. Jane. You wanna get naked or ya done?” I looked over to see Soldier slump in his chair, defeated. He stood up, pushed his chair in, saluted and ran for the trashcan - vomit spewing from his mouth. There was a loud round of laughter as Heavy stood and made for the smaller man. He picked him up, mumbled something about “leetle baby man” and carried him off to his room to die in peace. Cards were reshuffled and redistributed. Demo was the next to go with a slew of foul words permeating the air around the group.
“I’m teh best. It was my idea to even play the bloody game and here I am being beat by a gun-totin, kangaroo-humpin loner and a bloody baseball bat bonkin lass!” And with that he had stalked off to his room to nurse his wounded pride. I stood up and moved to Soldier’s chair in order to get a better view of my enemy. A cocky smile played over his features as the cards were redealt. We were pretty much in the same situation - I having pants on and he having a shirt on. With that smile it was clear he was fairly close to twenty-one. Unless he was dicking with me. He glanced up and smirked, his sharp-teeth glistening in the darkened room.
“What’s wrong, love? You don’t look too sure about your hand.” He had all but growled out the words, obviously intending to get a rise out of me. His eyes were dark behind his glasses his muscles tense. He looked….hungry? I dunno. “Whatsa matter? Like what you see?” I blanched. He totally was dicking with me. I felt a blush creep up my neck as I scowled at him, laughter roaring around us. The embarrassment got the better of me.
“Well yeah. Who wouldn’t?” I mumbled out, alcohol greatly impairing my ability to give a shit anymore. I glanced up from my cards. His smile had vanished and a frown had come across his features. He looked to be thinking. “Whatsa matter, Snipes? Play your hand so I can see the rest of the goods.” Pyro high-fived me and chuckled. Medic huffed and came around to snake an arm around her waist, a touch of jealousy marring his features. I looked back to the sharpshooter as he glanced down at his cards. He let out a final grumble as he laid them on the table. 21. Son of a bitch. I looked down at the 5 of clubs and the 10 of diamonds in my hand. So 6. 6 to tie.
“Hit me.” I felt a card hit my fingers and I reached for it, the well-worn plastic-coated paper thin in my hand. 2 of diamonds. Shit. 17. “Again.” Another card was brought to its brethren. 3 of spades. 20. Are you fucking kidding me? I paused for a moment. Unsure of what to do. I didn’t want to lose. I wanted to see Snipes in just his skivvies dammit! “Again” I had managed to choke out. I needed an ace in order to win. I felt the air go still and the breathing slow. I looked up as another card came to rest in front of me. Sniper’s face was calm. He was expecting to win. His eyes drifted downward and came to rest on the card. I sat back in my chair and readjusted his hat. I reached for the card and glanced down. Ace of hearts. I shook my head, my expression neutral and glanced up at the ceiling, to the heavens, and silently blessed the Fates for having such a ridiculous sense of humor. I laid the cards out in front of me. 21. The room erupted in booming laughter and “what the fucks”. I glanced over to Sniper who sat in a stunned silence.
“Guess that means we both gotta get naked now.” I smirked at him as I stood up, alcohol making existing so incredibly difficult. He stayed seated for a moment, a deep look of contemplation marring his features as he studied the cards. He reached over a took a drink of his beer as he readjusted his glasses. Everyone was so busy talking to one another, the game had been completely forgotten. He suddenly stood, his chair making a terrible metallic screech as it scooted over the concrete. He swiftly made his way around the table and lunged for my waist, his fingers warm against my cool skin. I shrieked as he threw me over his shoulder and made for the door, the room suddenly silent around us.
“Don’t come knockin'.” He had yelled over his shoulder as he opened the door. I looked up from my awkward positioning and saw Pyro give two thumbs up and a grin as the door swung shut behind us.
“Is this really happenin'? Or am I so drunk, I’ve taken to my fantasies?” I said to his butt, the perfect object of affection mere inches from my head. I felt a growl resonate through him as he quickened his pace, all but running to his van now.
“So you fantasize about me?” I felt his hand run up one jeaned leg as he spoke, his voice husky and low. He really had no idea did he. Or did he?
“Well yeah. Of course. For like eight million years now.” Oh my god. Fuck alcohol. Unless this became a regular thing then praise it. Sing of its triumphs from the highest hills and the lowest valleys. Let the world over know of its healing properties. I felt him chuckle under me. I couldn’t exactly see where we were going but we eventually came to a stop, the night chilled as the months stretched into fall. I heard a metallic latch clamp and I was hoisted into his van, into complete darkness.
“Hold on a tic.” I felt him shift past me and a corner lamp flicked to life. He turned to me, almost unsure of where to go from here. He stared at me a moment before inching closer, hands snaking around my hips and lips coming down to nip at my own. I felt him smile as he explored with his hands, coming to rest around my waist.
“I’ve thought about this for a long time, love. Ever since you showed up here. Keep in mind that once I have ya, I’m not one to let go.” He enforced his words with a squeezing of his arms, pressing my body against his. I felt my breath catch in my throat. So he did want something legit out of this? I stared up at him for a moment before I felt his lips on my again, this time for a quick peck. “Are you alright with that, mate?” Mate had an entirely different connotation to me. Completely different than all the thousands of other times I heard him say it. A shiver of lust ran down my spine and I stood up on my toes and placed a kiss on his lips.
“That sounds like somethin' I would be interested in.” My hands ran up his arms and over his shoulders, fingers planting themselves in his thick brown hair. Oh snap. His hat. I reached up to grab the hat. “Oh yeah.” I felt his hand quickly reach to grab mine, and with a growl lowered them both to our chests.
“Sorry, love. ‘fraid you are going to have to keep that on for tonight.”