Drunken Tumble
folder
zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Celeb › Canadian Idol
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
631
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Celeb › Canadian Idol
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
631
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is purely a work of fiction. I do not know Kalan Porter or Jacob Hoggard, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Drunken Tumble
The bruise is a deep shade of violet. Not ugly on him, not like it would be on anyone else, and Jake is suddenly certain that Kalan is an alcohol-induced fantasy. Not like he's sure that he's drunk. Not sure now anyway, but Kalan is here and Kalan is helping him to his feet, murmuring into his hair the nonsensical shit you only murmur to small children and very intoxicated adults. Not sure he's drunk...not 100% sure...but thinking that he might be. And thinking that the ripped pieces of beer label under his fingers might be a dead fucking give-away.
Kalan gets him to his apartment; somehow steers him through downtown Toronto and then up the stairs. Somehow dumps him into bed, not bothering to pull off Jake's shoes. He just mutters, "You'll be okay" over-and-over again until the words become an unintelligible slur.
(youllbeokayyoullbeokayyoullbeokay)
And, drunk as he is, Jake is reasonably sure that the reassurances aren't really meant for him anyway. Because Kalan was at the bar long before he took Jacob home and the bruise on Kalan's face didn't magically appear there one day.
"Still pretty little Kay," he mumbles and Kalan looks away, towards the window. The only thing outside is the street. The only thing on the street is the flow of traffic - in and out - lit by the neon bar signs.
"Sleep now," he says, eyes fixated somewhere out the window. "You'll feel better in the morning."
Kalan gets him to his apartment; somehow steers him through downtown Toronto and then up the stairs. Somehow dumps him into bed, not bothering to pull off Jake's shoes. He just mutters, "You'll be okay" over-and-over again until the words become an unintelligible slur.
(youllbeokayyoullbeokayyoullbeokay)
And, drunk as he is, Jake is reasonably sure that the reassurances aren't really meant for him anyway. Because Kalan was at the bar long before he took Jacob home and the bruise on Kalan's face didn't magically appear there one day.
"Still pretty little Kay," he mumbles and Kalan looks away, towards the window. The only thing outside is the street. The only thing on the street is the flow of traffic - in and out - lit by the neon bar signs.
"Sleep now," he says, eyes fixated somewhere out the window. "You'll feel better in the morning."