Hello Again Mr Pigeon 'pidge' Wit I Come To U With A Writing Req ....... No Pressure To Write Obviously!!!!

hello again mr pigeon 'pidge' wit i come to u with a writing req ....... no pressure to write obviously!!!!

but consider ur shitface drunk davey w jack (potentially friends too) at a restaurant ... javey aren't together at this point ... but davey is just a little too drunk and ends up pretty much lying with his head on jacks lap ... cue 'jack, I don't wanna go all the way home all by myself ....... can I come home with you?' and jack being the smitten pushover he is of course lets David 'Lightweight' Jacobs sleep in his bed with him ...

davey wakes up has no recollection of what happened and is SO concerned when he wakes up in jacks bed - jack is shirtless - and oh lord he's SO hungover .... anyway ...

consider also jack waking up and saying 'hey beautiful' and Davey short circuiting and jack shrugging and saying 'well u seemed to like it just fine last night'

sorry for the long af ask but this????? in your writing style!!!!! I would shit myself /pos

roman i have had this in my inbox for so long cause i want to write this so goddamn badly but alas uni is killing me, so that's probably not gonna happen for a while. BUT! i do have little snippets for your convenience, because again, this idea was so fun and i wanted to write it so so badly. hope these can tide you over:

“Davey,” Jack says, far more charmed than he should be, because he is pathetic, “maybe you oughta take a break for a bit, you’re-”

“Don’t worry yourself, handsome,” Davey winks, and Jack immediately feels his stomach drop. They have entered Flirty Drunk Davey, which means Jack is going to be of no help for the entire evening. “I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions, and I’m deciding to get sloshed tonight.” He drums his hands on the table as he gets up and shoots Jack a finger-gun as he stumbles only slightly. “Livin’ la vida loca!”

Oh, Jack is a sad man. Jack is a weak, pathetic little man who is in love with someone that just said livin’ la vida loca unironically. Jack is a sad, sad man.

[…]

“And iguanodons,” Davey says quite seriously, with one finger raised like a very wobbly professor,“iguanodons, they walk like – like this…”

He shapes each of his hands into three-toed points and leans forward to plant them on the floor.

“Oh, no-” Jack says quickly, taking his wrists and gently pulling him upright. “No, Davey, that’s okay, don’t – don’t crawl on the floor, pal.”

Davey looks at him with the largest eyes Jack’s ever seen in his life.

“But that’s how iguanodons walk…” He says plaintively, like Jack is a monster who is stifling a very important display of science, and Jack is so pathetically gone for him that he’s almost tempted to say, ‘I’m sorry Davey, by all means crawl around on the floor like a dinosaur, I love you so much.’ Christ, he needs to skip town, go somewhere so repressed he’ll never even think about feelings again without curling up and dying of shame. Britain, maybe. Or wherever the Amish live.

“I know, bud,” Jack soothes, rubbing a hand down his back. “You, uh – you just show me later, okay? We’re going inside now.”

[…]

Right. Right. Breathe. Facts. That’s what Davey needs. Facts.

Fact one: he is currently in Jack’s bed, in Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact two: he cannot remember how he got into either Jack’s bed or Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact three: Jack is making pancakes. Shirtless. With a bit of batter stuck to his collarbone that Davey really wants to lick.

(Fact three, subheading: Davey might still be a little bit drunk)

Conclusion: Davey had literally mind-blowing sex last night while more drunk than a Baltic tide and has thus not only ruined the best friendship he’s ever had, but can’t even reminisce over the memory of it to soothe the wound. Fantastic.