JJ Maybank imagines

drunk talk

this is probably gonna be a shorter one. i'm so upset I accidentally deleted my draft.
———

It was late. I wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but Netflix was asking if I was still watching and my throat was dry when my phone began to ring.

"Hello?" I didn't even bother to check who was calling, just answered by the second ring. My voice was barely audible and I desperately needed a sip of water.

"He's drunk again." John B said into the phone, "And he won't talk to me. He said to call you." I didn't even have to ask who he was talking about. I knew he meant JJ.

"I'll be there soon." I hung up the phone and laid on my back rubbing my eyes for a moment before pushing myself out of bed. I grabbed my water bottle and chugged whatever was left, then slid sweatpants on over my shorts, along with a sweatshirt.

Walking down the hallway tired as hell is my least favorite thing to do. Somehow my body manages to smack into one wall, then wobble over to the opposite one. My eyes were barely open when I slid my shoes onto my feet, which I had debated on even wearing.

By the time I was in the drivers seat I was smacking my cheeks trying to wake myself up a bit more. The ride to the chateau was short, I could walk, but the cool breeze made me cold and uncomfortable.

This is the fifth time in two weeks that I've had to come put JJ to bed, each time more difficult than the last. He would never tell me what was wrong, just that 'life sucks' and left it at that. This time I was more determined to figure out why I always had to be his saving grace.

I parked my car and shut the door behind me, immediately seeing John B standing on the back porch, "Where is he?" I asked.

John B pointed to the dock, "Sitting at the end." He informed, "Good luck. I'm going to bed."

"Gonna need it." I grumbled and made my way through the damp grass, which told me it was probably just hours away from the sunrise, "Whatcha doing down here?" I asked the blonde once I was closer.

He stayed silent, raising his beer can in the air as a form of an answer.

"Kinda cold out, y'know." I sat down next to him, seeing he was only in shorts and a cut off, "It's warmer inside."

"Mhm." He hummed, not even looking at me, which told me he was definitely thinking about something heavy. JJ never ignores me, even when he's pissed off and way too drunk.

"Come on." I stood back up and tugged his upper arm a little, "Lets get you inside and in bed."

"No." He groaned and pulled his arm away, "Go home." This part was unlike him. Usually, I show up, tell him to go to sleep, then tuck him in before heading home myself. It was always so simple, why is tonight different? "You'll, uh, get—get sick." He paused to hiccup.

"I'm not gonna get sick, Jay. Come on, let's go inside." I tried again, but for the second time he pulled his arm away from me, "Why are you acting like this? Why tell John B to call me if you're just going to sit here and pout?" I didn't hide the annoyance in my tone. I was tired and had work tomorrow, I could've told John B to handle this himself and went back to bed. But no, my JJ filled heart would never allow that.

"I'm a fuck up." He said quietly. Hearing him call himself that made my heart shatter, "Just a fuck up." He repeated.

"You are not a fuck up." I sat back down next to him and leaned my head onto his shoulder, wrapping both of my arms around one of his, "Don't call yourself that."

His head laid on top of mine and I felt his shoulders shudder, the way ones would when they're crying and trying to hide it, "Fuck, man." He said a bit louder, taking a deep breath and rubbing his eyes, "I'm really drunk."

"I know." I agreed, "Just let me walk you inside like I always do and put you to bed."

"No." He denied, "I'm a fuck up. You know it. John B knows it. You all know it." I was so close to getting him to open up, then he pulls away like he always does. It was frustrating, but that's just who JJ is, "I don't get why you keep showing up when he calls."

"I wouldn't do it for anyone else." I admitted, "I have to work at seven. Do you really think I wanna be here dealing with your drunk ass?" I laughed at my words, letting him know I was just messing around.

"Do you think I'll ever be enough for you?" He blurted out, "I've been trying since, like, seventh grade and you never seem to notice." He has? Since when?

"Let's talk about this when you're sober." I stated sternly. Drunk words are sober thoughts, but I'd much rather hear them coming from sobriety, "Last chance to get up before I go home and leave you here."

"Just listen for a second—" JJ wobbled to his feet and immediately wrapped an arm around me for support, "You are—the most beautiful girl I've ever seen—"

"JJ—"

"No, no, listen," He waved his hand in the air to get me to be quiet. His words were slurred and I could smell the beer on his breath, "I wanna be with you."

I began slowly walking us towards the chateau, one step at a time, "And I wanna be a good guy for you. I wanna sleep next to you—and—and play with your hair."

"You can tell me all of this tomorrow after a good nights sleep." I insisted. I hated that he was saying everything I've waited to hear, but he's doing it plastered, "I want you sober when you say stuff like this."

"Sober me will never say it." He argued, "I just want you." He was a mess. A drunken, sloppy mess.

When we reached the back steps, he leaned forward and slowly brought himself to sit on the porch steps, "You want John B to take you the rest of the way?" I was trying my best to ignore the fact that he had just confessed all of his sober emotions.

"I want you to stay." His words were confident, like this is the most sure he's ever been about anything in his entire life, "Please stay?"

I huffed and knew within seconds I would give in. So, I slid my phone from my pocket and checked the time, 5:37am.

Y/n
Hey, I can't make it into work. Food poisoning.

I sent the text to my boss without a second thought. I knew he wouldn't buy it, but he can't exactly call me a liar without proof.

"Come on." I grabbed JJ's arm and hoisted him up the best I could, "You need water, a bucket, and headache medicine."

"You're staying?" Instead of speaking, I nodded my head while opening the door of the chateau. His body fell onto the couch and he laid there while I rounded up everything he would need. Now that he knew I was staying, he was much more compliant.

After taking the medicine and drinking a bottle of water, I slid the sweatpants I had over my shorts off and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch.

"It's a small couch, make room." JJ moved over the best he could, opening his arms for me, "I've never seen you so fucked up before." I was mentally laughing to myself at his appearance. Tired eyes, messy hair, and the cutest little grin on his lips, "Goodnight, JJ."

"I love you." He said, his voice getting raspy from being up so late, "So fucking much and it's not just drunk talk. I really love you."

"I love you." I said back to him, meaning every word.
———

This is literally terrible