Work Text:
"Justgi ve me a beeeerr...." you're already toootally wasted from the drunk driving you did on the way here. Dee, the sexy female bartender, gives her fugly jerma brother Dennis a look. He knows exactly what it means. But you don't. Everyone's always conspiring against you. "Yknowww what??? Maketthat.... tuah...beerss." "Um..." Dee signals to Dennis, "2 beers, coming up" Dee says, obviously not wanting to be near you. she definitely wants you dead like the rest.
Dennis zests over and begins rummaging through the shelves of mostly empty bottles of alcohol, but his butt is like totally perked out so Mac comes running to goon!!! Just as your mental state starts to improve a little in lieu of fujoing out, Dennis pops back up placing 2 bottles on the counter and Mac's boner pops back down to his 2 balls. He drags Dennis away to their shared goon cave because 'it's past his bedtime... wink' and you never see them again?? 😨😨 uhhhmm... who else is a little spooked rn..?
Before Dee can even ask, you slam 25 dollars or however mych money 2 beer bottles costs on the desk almost as fast as you slam down the first bottle. She looks a little pissed cos you didn't tip her (she ruined the fujo sesh by working the bar and therefore granting Mac and Dennis the ability to just leave) but doesnt say anything cos shes fake just like everyone else.
Everyone else,
Except.
For.
Him.
He stumbles gracefully out of the bathroom stall, with a little bit of beer reek, a little bit of B.O. stink, and even a bit of that lovely mysterious stench. What a stench of curiosity. Hes so unique... I know he doesnt hate me, but as selfish and terribke of me as it is, I wish he could be the one person who LOVES me...
just as you think that thought, he looks over at you. youre the only person left in the bar that isnt having std exchange sex in a booth, since its nearly 2am now, on a sunday night. but he can tell you dont look any happier than the std traders... in fact, if its even possible, you look even more in sorrow. you can see his pride (from what was probably eating a new perfect dish of a rat dipped in bleach) turn into pity. you cant stand seeing him upset... especially not when its possibly for you.
you pick up the second bottle, preparing to down it, but you feel his sticky burny hand atop yours... "STOP," he cries, "drowning your sorrows is NO way to cope with a mental health related episode that is likely a bpd episode but we cant be ure until youre 18 and see a mental health professional about it!" you look at him, tempted with every fiber of your being to violently rip your hand away from his and slurp thr whole bottle up. but instead, as per usual, you do the much calmer but still ultimately self destructive approach. completely ignoring him.
*sniffle*
you immediately regret it and feel awful. so you down the beer and smash it over your head. Charlie wipes his nose with his stained sleeve, "WOAH WOAH DUDE. that is NOT the most efficient way of doing that!!"
You look at him shocked snd appalled. What..? what kind of response to a crashout is that?? He hurdles over the counter and his big rotund buttocks is totally in your face for a minute and it takes a lot of mental strength to not grip it. "Here, let me show you." He picks up the empty beer bottle you drank earlier, throws it up in the air, and it spins around and around and lands directly on his head, shattering everywhere.
"How is that more... efficient...?" youre beyond amused but do not have the mental energy or even thought to sound anything but monotone. He crosses his arms, "No, dude, you dont get it. its like way cooler so that makes it way more efficient!" you stare at him blankly "you have no idea what that word means" "yeah i have no idea what that word means"
you kind of stand in romantic silence together for a minute, as you remember Dee is here and still watching in confusion, annoyance, and anger. She squacks something avout it being 'too late for this shit' and something about Charlie needing to 'clean up this mess' as the jingle of her keychains indicates she's leaving the bar. At this point all the std traders leave too, as whats the point in fucking in a bar if theres no hot sexy women?? and you knew it had to also at least be in part because they fucking hate your presence.
except for him.
"Hey:.. I may not know words or meanings or things, but I think you're pretty cool. In fact, id go as far to say I mess with you, heavy!" this turns your face into an immediate flush. nobody in your life has cared enough to pay you any praise without asking, especially to such a high caliber! "vro.. Charlie..." "yes...?" "Youte lowkey my alpha and we NEED to FROT!"
He giggles and frolicks aroung with glee in response to that... frotting? really? thats all hes ever wanted in hisnlife! and you could say the exact same. so theb you stop being depressed and frot