A/N: Please drink responsibly; don't drink if you are underage. This chapter has a lot of curse words and suggestive humor.
"And lost both my shoes in the mud!" I said with a chuckle. Mark threw his head back in laughter, grabbing the kitchen table to steady himself. After I totally kicked his ass in an arm-wrestling competition, and bandaged the wounds I had accidentally inflicted, Mark and I had a couple beers. Well...more than a couple.
Mark held up his index finger, catching his breath, and staggered over to the freezer. "Dude," he said as he rumaged through it before holding up a bottle. "Fireball," he stated. He pulled out a shot glass from the cupboard above the sink. He poured the cinnamon whiskey into the tiny glass.
He offered some to me, but I shook my head. He shrugged, and tipped his head back. He swallowed the shot, shook it off, and grinned. He muscled back a burp. "I once took 5 of these," he said, starting to slur his words. "And then I beat Fuck Nights and FredBoys," he said.
I laughed, "You mean Five Night's at Fuckboy's?" I asked, wiping my eyes of the joy filled tears. I finished off my beer. That's the last one for me. Mark chuckled and started to pour another shot, but I stopped him.
"Hey man, I hate to be a Debby Downer, but you are drunk as hell right now," I said awkwardly. I took the bottle from his hand and screwed the cap back on.
Mark held up his hands to surrender, "I getcha. Ol' Jackaboy is looking after me," he said with a smile. He went to sit down on one of the kitchen stools. However, he missed it and fell hard on his ass.
I couldn't help it. I roared with laughter. I could hear Mark laughing like crazy from the other side of the table. I stumbled around to help him up.
Once he was up, we walked over to the couch and sat down. Mark looked over at me and grinned. He's brown eyes sparkled with a drunken sense of humor.
I'm an Irishman, so I know my alcohol limits. And I fucking meet that limit tonight. But Mark? I'm pretty sure he went over. Waaaay over.
"Mark, you are so wrecked right now," I said, laughing slightly. Mark laughed again, but a little harder this time.
"Y-you know what," he started, squeezing in words between his drunken laughter, "w-what else I a-am?" He asked. I shook my head and shrugged. Mark beamed awkwardly.
"I'm not just w-wrecked. I-I'm erect," he said. He burst out laughing, even harder then before, at his own dumb joke. And I, being as drunk as I am, laughed with him. "God damnit Mark," I said when I calmed down. I shook my head, but I was still smiling.
Mark ran his hand awkwardly through his black hair. "Floof the hair for power!" He shouted. I chuckled. He was always so stupid when he was drunk; he'll laugh at anything. He has no mental filter when he's like this. What he thinks, he says.
"Let's play a game," he blurted out. I shrugged, "Which one? Minecraft?" I said sarcastically. He shook his head, chuckling.
"No, l-let's play um...," he said, trying to think. He sprawled himself out on the couch, laying his head down on the arm of the couch, and his legs on my lap. I felt my face growing warm. Now that I think of it, it's really warm in here. I took of my sweatshirt and threw it over the back of the couch.
"Uh, let's play Duth or Tare," Mark finished. I laughed. "Truth or Dare?" I asked with a little smile. Mark nodded and looked at me, "D-didn't I just say that?" He asked, hiccuping, and I shook my head with a laugh.
He laughed with me, of course since that's all he can do when he's this drunk, then pointed at me, "Y-you first. Truth or Dare," he asked. I felt like a teenage girl at a slumber party with her friends. I adjusted my postion on the couch, so I was laying down as well. Mark's feet were by my head, and my feet were by his.
"Uh, dare," I said confidently. Let's start this game off right! Mark smirked evilly. Suddenly I got slightly nervous about what he'd say. "I dare you too....pick t-three random f-foods outta my fridge and make a s-sandwich outta 'em," he slurred.
I sighed and got up. Mark rolled over onto his belly so he could watch. I shuffled over to the fridge and pulled the door open. I closed my eyes, fumbled around, and grabbed three things.
I could hear Mark laughing like crazy in the living room, so I assume I picked some nasty stuff. I gulped, almost afraid to see what horrible things I had picked. I cautiously opened my eyes. "Oh come on!" I shouted in disgust, throwing my hands in the air.
I had picked horseradish, a half-eaten Milky Way bar, and a piece of left-over pizza. Mark was laughing so hard I swear he was going to pass out.
"Why didn't you finish this!?" I shouted at him, holding up the Milky Way. Mark just shrugged and continued laughing.
I sighed and turned back to my ingredients. I unwrapped the candy bar and put it on the pizza. I took a spoon and begrudgingly plopped a dollap of horseradish on top of it all. I grabbed a paper plate and the trash can and walked back into the living room.
"I fuckin' hate you, Mark," I said with a nervous laugh. Mark was smiling from ear to ear. I took a seat beside him again, the trash can between my legs. As I stared at my horrendous 'sandwich', I shuddered at the thought of eating it.
"Tell my Ma I love her!" I said dramatically and took a bite. Instantly the sour taste of horseradish flooded my mouth. Followed soon after by the sweet caramel and a hint of fire from the spicy pepperoni.
I gagged, and spit it out immediately into the trash. Without hesitation, I dropped the rest of the disgusting 'food' into the can. I ran into the kitchen again and stuck my head under facet in the sink. I opened my mouth wide and turned it on, letting the refreshing water cleanse my palette.
"Oh my god that's the worst thing I've ever tasted!" I cried, rinsing my mouth out with the water. I would occasionally spit to completely rid my mouth of that awful taste. Mark, however, had fallen off of the couch because he was laughing so hard.
I poured myself a tall glass of water and sat on the couch again. "Fuck you, Mark," I said, but I laughed a bit. Once Mark had calmed down and climbed back onto the couch, I asked him, "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," he said, without a second thought. I tried to think of something. "I dare you...," I started. I looked around the room for something that I could make him do. I spotted a book on the coffee table, and pointed at it eagerly.
"I dare you to flip to a random page in that book and reenact the first scene you read," I said. Mark raised an eyebrow.
"That's eeeeasy," he said nonchalantly. He leaned over to pick up the book. I took a sip of my water and placed it on the coffee table. He's gonna look like such an idiot. I thought happily to myself.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and flipped to a random passage in the book. He opened his eyes, read it to himself, and smiled widely. He sat up on the couch. He looked at me, and smirked. His eyes sparkled mischievously.
It dawned on me that I didn't check the name of the book. Why didn't I read the title first!? Mark scooted a little closer to me.
He yawned and rubbed his eyes. I tried to peek over his shoulder at the book, but he was purposefully blocking it.
"Sooo," he said calmly. "Do you wanna practice kissing?"
My eyes widened in surprise. "What!?" I exclaimed. I desperately tried to look past him, to catch a glimpse at the cover. "Mark, what book is that!" I asked anxiously. He leaned back to grab the book and held it up for me to see.
Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides.
My eyes widened again, and I felt my palms get really sweaty. "Okay, I take that back! I return the dare!" I said, blushing madly. I read that book in college, and I know what scene this is.
Mark shook his head as he stood up and sat on my lap. "Too late now!" He smirked. I felt my face grow hotter than the sun. He grabbed the sides of my cherry red face gently. A smile danced on his face.
"Okay Mark, no m-means no!" I said, trying to push him away, starting to panic a bit. "You don't have to do the dare!" His cheeks were dusted pink, and he smiled widely. He pulled my face closer to his. I tried to push him back. "M-Mark you're dru-"
He pushed his lips against mine in a forceful kiss. My face flooded with color. He was very very passionate about this; it was like he had read the same scene a hundred times before. I was in shock. My eyes were wide open, staring into his brown eyes. They were like smooth chocolate. Truly eye candy.
He pushed his lips a little closer to mine, if that's even possible. My heart started beating a mile a minute. His lips grew a little softer, and sweeter. He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "You're supposed to kiss me back,"
He closed his eyes, and moved his hands down around my neck, pushing himself closer to me. I realized that he wasn't letting me go until I played along. So...I did.
I pushed my lips against his, a little too forcefully. I felt a smile spread on Mark's face. I closed my own eyes tightly. We were so close. I could feel his chest right up against mine; I was pressed up against the cushioned back of the couch. His lips started to gently massage mine. Finally, after about another minute, Mark pulled away. I opened my eyes again, and looked straight into his.
"Your breath tasted like pizza," He smirked, and his eyes sparkled. He was breathing heavily. I hadn't had the chance to take a proper breath since he had first pushed his face against mine. I took deep breaths. My face was still burning up, yet I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Mark ran his fingers through his hair again, got off of my lap, and sat back on the couch again. "Truth or Dare, Jack," Mark said, acting like nothing had really happened. I stared straight ahead, still shocked at what had happened. My hands were shaking, and my mouth felt like sandpaper. I picked up my glass.
My thoughts were a scrambled up mess. I tried to think of something to say. "T-truth," I said, finally. I took a drink of water before he responded.
Mark smirked. "Did you like it?" He asked calmly. He seemed awfully sober all of a sudden. I nearly spit out the water, but I muscled it down.
I looked over at him. He looked so different to me know. I'm not sure why. He seemed to have this...energy around him that confused and delighted me somehow. I desperately searched for an answer, but I couldn't think of one. My mouth, however, could.
"Can we do that again?" I heard myself say. I surprised myself, and quickly covered my mouth. Mark, who looked just as shocked himself, smiled awkwardly.
"I think that's enough for today," he said. He stood up and handed me a blanket and a pillow. Then he waved at me with a small smile, turned off the lights in the living room, and stumbled up the stairs to his own room.
"G'night, Jack," he said and I heard his bedroom door close. "G-good night Mark," I muttered.
I lay my head down on the pillow and stared up into the darkness, still trying to process what had just happened. But one sentence was stuck in my head. It played on repeat like an annoying broken record:
Can we do that again?