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It had been a good evening. A very good, alcohol induced evening.
Trinity had insisted on a girls night out, with you, King, McKay and Javardi. Cassie had Harrison, and Javadi had- well you didn't know what her excuse was, but it must have been good for Trinity not to push the subject too much.
But a trio for girls night had been a bit too small for Santos’s liking, hence why Whitaker, Robby, and somehow Abbot and Shen from the nightshift all ended up in a dive bar two streets over from the PTMC.
The night had started well, Shen and Mel were killing it at karaoke, Robby and Abbot seemed to be having some form of lovers quarrel. Normally you would want to know what was going on between the two of them, but right now your focus was on the fifth? Maybe a sixth shot in front of you.
It was as you were contemplating if a seventh shot of tequelia was a smart idea (it is not, you are scheduled to work tomorrow morning, although with the state of you, the hangover may cause you to take a sick day), you thump your head down onto the bartop. “I want to go home.”
“Whyy,” Trinity whines, trying to pick your head up, as if that could bring all your energy back. “We’re having fun, me and you are gonna sing.”
“I want my bed, and my dog, and my dog in my bed with my Bren-”
“You can have your bed later,” Trinity draws out the word, shaking you slightly, “We can ding and have another drink now!”
“Noo,” You whine, picking your phone out of your pocket. “Do you wanna come for a sleepover, I need to know.”
“Sleepover where? Your place is tiny.” Trinity takes another shot, already eyeing up yours.
Sliding over your drink, you open your contacts and show Trinity the top result. Someone names ‘Sharkie 🦈’ You hit dial, ignoring the tone as you continue talking.
“Bren will come and get us and we can have a sleepover in our bed with our dog and Bren will drive us home and-” You take a breath as the phone call connects, “Hi baby!”
“Hi! What’s wrong?” Trinity heard his muffled reply. She swotted at you until you dragged yourself and the phone closer so she could hear too over the karaoke party behind you. “I thought you weren’t going to be home till midnight?”
“I wanna come home,” you slur, the image of your cozy bed and your comfy fiance in your mind. “Can I come home? Can Trinity have a sleep over?”
“Not tonight sweetheart, but I'll come get you, I’ll be there in five minutes,” Park said before he hung up the phone. Trinity tried to slip the phone back into your pocket, only to give up half way, and slip it into her own and make a mental note to give it back to you tomorrow.
If she was sober, Trinity would have thought longer about asking about Park. But she wasn’t sober, and she didn’t think it through at all, “Why the hell is Park the Shark your top contact? He is so- so bitey”
You look up at him, ignoring the way the room was spinning “Bitey?”
Trinity nods at that, as if the word ‘bitey’ explained it all.
“He’s not bitey,” You slurred, wobbling up to stand and put your coat on, “He’s so soft and lovely and squishy and lovely.”
“You said lovely twice.”
“He’s double-y lovely. No triple-y lovely”
Trinity just hummed as she tried to stand herself. She was proud that she only stumbled into the bar once, “Come on, I want to see the Shark be not sharky.”
Somehow, the two of you manage to get out of the bar, and into the front parking lot in one piece (mostly drunken confidence, although a little of it must have been pure dumb luck) just in time to see Brendon pull up in front of you in the Mercedes. The same one he had tried to gift to you last week when your old corolla had died a very slow death.
Quickly, he is out of the drivers side and by you, hooking an arm around your shoulders. “Oh you are very drunk,”
You look up at him, as you allow your body weight to be supported by him, “I’m not drunk, I'm just trip-”
“Tipsy.”
“That’s the one.”
“Okay, baby, whatever you say.” He smiles, pressing a kiss into your hair, before turning back to Santos, all softness from his voice gone. “I’m assuming you’re going to find your way home with somebody else?”
“Huckleberry and I will go together, we live just there” She had tried to point in the direction of her apartment, but it ended up just being a gesture somewhere north of here. Happy that you were safe, she turned around to head back into the bar, forgetting even to say goodbye.
Satisfied that she was safe and had some way home, Brendon turned back to you and helped you into the front passenger seat, before clicking your seatbelt into place before you. “Let’s get you home, hmm.”
Just as he goes to pull away, you grab his arm, keeping him in place, “Thank you baby, you're the bestest.”
He presses another kiss to your forehead, before moving round to the driver's side, and pulling out of the parking lot. “I know baby, but you’re better.”