Vulnerability

Vulnerability

“Put down the whiskey, Noah.”

“Why?” There was a small fit of laughter with the reply.

“You know what happened last time you were drunk?”

“Naw.”

“You made out with my sister.”

“Ah!… Well, Abbey’s pretty smokin’, y’know.” Noah flashed a huge grin, moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively, the smell of his breath seeming toxic to his companion, whose face showed a clear look of disdain.

“She’s a year older than you!”

“I know! Her boobs’re huge!” The teenage boy's fingers twitched, as if groping invisible breasts.

“She’s my sister!”

“Jeez, Ryan, it’s not that bad... We didn’t even have sex.”

“Well good!” there was a pause. “Oh my GOD, what did you two do?!”

“Nothin', Ryan, nothin' at all.”

If there was anything Noah loved to do, it was to intentionally irritate Ryan. There was always that hilarious expression he'd have on his face, the crinkle of his brow and the narrowing of green eyes. Even when he tried to hide how mad he was, it was a failure. In fact, it just made him look even madder, and his facade didn't fool anyone.

Tonight was one of those nights Ryan was extremely irritable. He'd been invited to a party- being a football player had given him this honor- and he'd been told by the host that there would be "absolutely no alcohol" involved. What a lie that had been. For as far back as he could remember, Ryan hadn't liked alcohol of any kind. He didn't like that possibility of being drunk, that possibility of doing things and not remembering them. That possibility of being vulnerable.

Once he'd walked in the front door and spotted several beer cans lying carelessly on the kitchen counter, he'd wanted to turn right around and walk back out. Unfortunately for the peeved brunette, he had come over in Noah's truck, and Noah didn't seem like he really wanted to leave. Even with Ryan's pleas, he just said, "Quit bein' a kid n' be patient. I wasted the dern gas gettin' here, and I ain't leavin' yet."

That, to Ryan's calculations, had been approximately an hour ago, and Noah hadn't even reached to touch the keys in his pocket. Instead, he was reaching for bottles of whiskey and beer and some attractive blonde that had managed to squeeze her way in his lap. It was an understatement to say he was happy; that gigantic smirk and cloudiness in his eyes told another story. Even blondie there, with a few shots of tequila or whatever had been sitting in the glass on the table, had started to smile and smile, after which he'd placed herself on Noah and the two began swapping spit like it was the new form of air. Despite the fact that there were several people around, not even a meter away, they kept with their business, their brains as careless as the way they drank. It would be funny to say their audience rather liked it, finding it their cue to seek out their own person to partner up with for a few hugs and kisses (but this always lead to more). Noah, sensing more people leave the room, followed the advice of his body and went further with the blonde, one hand sliding up his stranger's shirt, the other rubbing against the inside of her inner thigh, only to meet the material of blue jeans. He'd get those off later somehow...

It was one of those moments you compare to a train wreck: so horrifying but, for some reason, you just can't look away. For Ryan, he was having one of those moments. On the same couch, there was his best friend making out with a girl whose name he didn't even know, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. Ryan could have left and gone outside, that would have been a wise choice; but in a way he didn't feel like abandoning his friend... however, the echo of their moaning was beginning to make this scheme exceptionally appealing.

"Ahem!" Ryan spoke up with a fake cough, hoping his face wasn't too red by what he was seeing; he sure felt hot, and when that happened his cheeks usually turned as red as a firetruck. "You know, Noah, I think it's great when people have some sort of decency! I am so glad you are a decent man!"

His mocking words, coupled with the fakest smile he'd probably ever put on his face, were met with a glare, but his desires were granted. Just like that, Noah had whispered something to the girl, settled her on her feet, and got up from the divan. The two made their way upstairs, which concerned Ryan. He didn't trust Noah drunk, and if something happened he was only going to blame himself. Who knew what trouble that boy would get into without him? It entertained Ryan how his friend was typically considered the more "mature" of them, but now who was the one being responsible? Wait, what had Noah whispered to that guy as he made his way up the stairs...?

A few hours or so later, a sweaty but clearly pleased Noah came down the stairs, fixing the collar of his shirt and running fingers through his blond hair. It was late by then, about two or three in the morning, and several people had already crashed on the sofas in the living room, the rest who managed to stay awake staying outside at the back near what appeared to be a bonfire.

"Ryan?" Noah called, looking around the house for him, but the boy was nowhere to be found. He'd expected him to be asleep, but as he looked out the window, he could see a figure that looked rather recognizable form standing in the light of the flames. That had to be him. Rolling his eyes with a groan, the older teen made his way out the door. "Ryan, is that you?"

As he got closer, his suspicions were definite. There stood his friend, treacherously close to the fire, a few people loitering around snickering and laughing. Noah was suspicious by this, finding nothing with the situation to be really amusing, but as he got closer he figured it out. There was Ryan standing there, his hands near his crotch, and a stream of liquid spurting right out of him into the fire.

"Ryan, what the HELL are you doin'?!"

"I'm a firefighter!" his friend exclaimed, rotating his head and smiling. He was completely out of it, his pupils dilated and the cheeks on his face flushed.

"Yer a dumbass is what ya are! Zip up yer damn pants, we're goin'."

"Aw, but... I gotta put this thing out..."

"Put yer danged penis in yer pants; I see enough of that in the locker room." Nice job, Noah. Why had you told that guy to spike a drink and give it to Ryan? How much had he actually given him?

"No!"

"Huh?"

"No. I'm putting this fire out."

"Yer dick's gonna burn off before ya can pee that much." Even as he said those words, true enough, the stream had thankfully ceased. Taking opportunity of the situation, he grabbed a hold of the back of Ryan's shirt. "Now come on, we're goin' home."

The bystanders had watched the whole thing with utmost hilarity. Never before had they seen an intoxicated Ryan, and that was just about a show all in its own. The guy had had one too much, foolishly tricked by someone who told him a can of Sprite was just that. One turned to two, two to three, and it became so much that he didn't even remember how much he drank. It didn't matter, whatever had been in there (was it vodka?) had really gone to his head.

"Jeez, Noah, I didn't know you wanted me that bad!" Ryan exclaimed with a giant laugh. His friend wanted to punch him.

"What I want ya to do is-"

"Woo! We got some gay action starting over here! Get a camera!" came a few hollers.

"That's it."

An already irritated, and awfully embarrassed, Noah let go of Ryan's shirt, instead reaching around and wrapping his arm around his friend's middle, the other grabbing the boy's foot, hoisting him off the ground and seizing him with a tight grip, as to prevent him from getting away. To Noah's luck, there was no request to get away. In fact, he was nearly convinced the drunk boy had fallen asleep while being carried, and as he shoved him in the passenger's seat of his truck, there wasn't a peep.

"Ya owe me."

---

"Fuck, my head hurts..."

"Good."

"What?"

"Ya deserve it."

"What did I do?!"

"Ya don't wanna know."

There was that eminent deer-in-headlights gaze. "Oh GOD, I didn't do what you did, did I?!"

"Worse."

"W-what?!"

From the other side, there was a cunning smirk. "How was yer buddy?"

"...My buddy?"

"Well I saw ya go out back with that funny guy... Steve, I think? He was a little different... Then ya came stumblin' out really happy n' I wondered watcha two did..."

There was a lengthy pause, and Ryan glanced down at his pants.

"Hey, Ryan," Noah tried not to laugh, "why's yer fly open?"

A thud came from the floor as the teenager fainted.