et_phone_home (et_phone_home) wrote in theaurors, @ 2017-04-30 16:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | # bishop imperius, arc: salem incident, c: ben mcmullen, c: et o'brian, d: october 20 2017 |
WHO: ET O'Brian, Ben McMullen, probably other aurors?
WHAT: Friday Night Shenanigans
WHERE: Salem Town Square
WHEN: Friday Morning/Night
WHY: On Call Auror Nonsense (AKA- boys with glitter puke, sad poop, and so many bad choices)
RATING: SFW (except for language?)
STATUS: Complete (and what a ride!)
It was hard to decide what was worse: being on-call on a Friday, or having the hangover potion he'd taken the night before turn out to be a dud. At some point in the night, after extricating himself from the tangle of limbs he kept winding up in with Ben, ET had stumbled into the bathroom and been sick in a way he hadn't been since probably Ilvermorny, before he'd learned some modicum of moderation. He splashed some water on his face, peering at his pale skin in the mirror, and grimaced at the dull headache that had settled around his temples. After checking the time, he realized, gratefully, that he had a few more hours to try to sleep this mess off.
He crawled back into the massive single bed that he had charmed the bunk beds into just a few days ago. (After staggering back to the temporary apartment a few nights ago, he found he was still far too inebriated to manage the second level bed, and had changed it into a single California king size while Ben was evidently already completely crashed out.) Just as that first night, Ben gravitated toward him, until they were pretty thoroughly entangled again, and ET settled in to try to fall back asleep. Ben huffed out a small breath against his neck, and he couldn't help the small, fond smile as he brushed a chaste kiss over the other man's temple. He curled his hand around the back of Ben's neck, reflecting that there were probably worse assignments to have. Ben could be a bit of a shit sometimes, but he was an attractive one, at least.
Several hours later, he awoke alone; that was pretty normal, though, since Ben was a morning runner. Sleep hadn't done much to abate his headache, but his stomach was a little more calm. Small blessings. He set about getting a shower and getting ready for the day. The pain at his temples was making his thoughts a bit hazy, but he figured it was nothing some coffee wouldn't clear up.
"accio belt." He flicked his wand to where it sat, loosely coiled across the room atop one of the chest of drawers. It didn't move. "Accio belt." A bit more forcefully, but still nothing. This was already shaping up to be a stellar morning. "Mother fucker," he swore under his breath, "Accio belt!"
It stayed stubbornly still. ET had just taken half a step towards it, when it decided to suddenly rocket towards him- towards his face, actually. It was only years of playing Quidditch and finely tuned auror instincts that gave him the reflexes necessary to duck out of its path, but only barely. The belt hit the opposite wall with a solid thunk, and, when he turned around to see where it had landed, he found it stuck into the wall, a good two inches deep by the buckle part. He frowned thoughtfully at it as he approached it, and then pulled it out with a small shower of drywall. Almost absently, he muttered a repairing charm, not even fully aware that it had worked perfectly, the wall whole again. No, he was too busy staring in dismay at his slightly bent belt.
He was still staring at it when he grabbed his phone and thumbed it to life. It began to buzz angrily at once, and he stared, appalled, at the time (10:42 AM) and the sheer number of texts and missed calls that were still loading. Somehow he had managed to sleep through his main alarm and all of the backup alarms he'd been sure to set. "Fuck."
To Briscoe, he sent: 10:43 AM am alive. will meet up w Ben, unless u need me 2 come 2 office
To Ben: 10:43 AM what's ur 20? no clue wht hap this am
10:44 AM mayb need to watch the tequila