#altho i have been thinking about adding a bonus scene in keeping with mr erik redacted's bonus audios

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Hi, Hello, I am once again presenting the internet with a fragment of the David/Asher fic I’m working on. This scene is a flashback, featuring Asher drunkenly flirting with David, and David being a little too strong for his own good.

This scene is about 1k and the full fic is shaping up to be about 16k words.

The moon had risen over the lakefront cabins the pack was staying in, but only the pups were sleeping. Everyone else had congregated in the main cabin that David, his dad, and Asher’s family were staying in. They were having a pack party of sorts. It wasn’t even for a holiday, although they were solidly in the midst of all the summer drinking holidays. The party was just a way for them to enjoy everyone else’s presence. 

It was the first summer that most of the second generation of the pack could legally drink, so the alcohol was flowing quite freely. David sat comfortably in the corner of the couch with a lukewarm White Claw in his hand, watching as his friends drunkenly tried to play Mario Kart in mirror mode. Asher was next to him, with every inch of his side pressed up against every inch of David’s. It felt right.

“I don’t think there’s enough alcohol in the world to get me to like mirror mode,” Asher said, before turning to face David and continuing, “Come do a shot with me? I wanna put that theory to the test.” Asher had just been full out giggling a few moments before, and a blush had taken over his face about three shots ago.  

Already five shots in and drunk enough to kill a man if Asher asked him too, but sober enough to still look out for his best friend, David said, “Fine, Ash, but this is your last one.” David was also still sober enough to pointedly ignore how his heart ached to call him his boyfriend instead of best friend and how his core tried to pull the word mate out of his mouth where Asher’s name was meant to be. He chugged the rest of his White Claw.

Asher jumped up giddily, passed his controller off to Milo, and pulled David by the wrist through the living room and into the kitchen. There was enough alcohol on the counters to kill a small army, courtesy of all the freshly 21-year-olds. Asher reached down into the sea of bottles and pulled out two. David raised an eyebrow at the Pink Whitney as Asher passed him the strawberry vodka. “I don’t know how you drink that. It tastes like perfume,” David said.

“Oh, it tastes like shit, but it does what I need it to, baby.” Something almost snapped in David at the ease in which Asher called him “baby”. Something else in him desperately wanted to hear it again. David’s hand was shaking as he poured his shot, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.

Asher raised his shot glass to clink with David’s. With a crooked grin, Asher said, “Cheers,” and knocked his shot back like water. David did, too. The vodka tasted like bad mouthwash, and it burned going down. Asher lightly pushed David back in the direction of the living room. David led the way out, and Asher followed closely behind him. 

Once they were back in the living room, David tucked himself back into his corner of the couch. This time, Milo was sat next to him where Asher had been. Instead of sitting on the floor next to him, like he was often more than content to do, Asher sat on David’s lap. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and snuggled into David. David felt a blush rise to his face.

Across the room, David’s father raised an eyebrow at him. He mouthed, “You good?” When David gave him a thumbs up, he mouthed back, “Liar.” David lightheartedly glared in return, because in all honesty, he was. Hell, if he was sober, he wouldn’t have even blinked twice at Asher sitting on his lap at this point. There were far worse things that Asher had done. 

Once, Asher had come up and wrapped his arms around David’s waist while he was making breakfast for them after a sleepover. He’d pressed a kiss to the junction of David’s shoulder and neck, then rested his head between David’s shoulder blades. “We’re like a couple in a shitty romcom,” is what Asher had said, laughing to himself. He only pulled away when he heard Gabe coming. 

Another time, David had carried Asher back into his apartment after a night out drinking. When David had put him in his bed, Asher pulled him down and kissed him like he was dying. David slept on the couch that night, and Asher didn’t remember it the next morning. 

Gabe broke David out of his thoughts when he came up and pressed a glass of water into David’s hand. “Make sure he drinks some, too,” he had said, nodding towards Asher. He walked back over to his conversation with Marie before Asher had the chance to complain.

Asher turned to tuck his face into the crook of David’s neck, and the sweetness of it made David heartbeat race. Asher spoke against the sensitive skin there, “You’re so fucking pretty, David.” 

David’s grip tightened on the glass in his hand. He clenched his jaw and felt his cheeks redden once again. Across the room, Gabe gave him another “Are you okay?” look. David shifted his eyes from his dad’s towards Asher’s direction and then back again, and his dad just laughed at him. 

“No, really. It’s not fucking fair. How am I supposed to be the comedic relief friend if I can’t think when you’re around? You and your stupidly pretty gray eyes and your soft hair and your stupid muscles that you can pick me up with way too easily and,” Asher cut himself off, “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, Davey.” 

David’s grip tightened further around the glass, and he was sure if he checked, he’d see his knuckles turning white. The glass was starting to flex in his hand, but it was the only thing left tethering him to reality and stopping him from making out with Asher right there on the couch.

Asher moved to look David in the eye. “You are a beautiful, beautiful man, David,” he said. Asher punctuated the thought by pressing a soft kiss to David’s cheek.

The glass in David’s hands shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, and more than a few embedded themselves in his hand. He shook the glass out of his palm, and Marie was already next to him, gesturing for him to give her the wounded hand and going on her spiel about how bad the pack was at taking care of themselves. 

David announced to no one in particular when Marie had finished her healing, “I’m taking Asher up to bed.” He scooped up Asher and stood up with ease, despite the other man’s protests. It was just as much for his own good as it was for Asher’s. 

As David carried Asher bridal style up the steps and away from the party, Asher was looking at him with nothing but want in his eyes. Asher wasn’t normally a horny drunk, or even a flirty drunk, but apparently he was tonight. When David set him down on his bed, Asher looked up at him with his eyes dilated and his face flushed. There was something sultry in his voice as he said, “I wanna do very bad things with you, David.” 

A flustered, strangled noise slipped out of David’s mouth before he said, “Say that sober and then we’ll talk.” David left the room faster than he normally would and almost slammed the door behind him. He leaned back against it, breathing deeply and trying to think about anything other than Asher.