#web staring at lieb like the 'he want that cookie so fucking bad'

[baura-bear]

when i say i haven't stopped thinking about this since it was posted. anyway i wrote about it, here it is.

Joe woke up in a haze. Raucous laughter from the other room had broken him from his sleep and he was certain it was still night. The biggest clue was Luz’s voice from the other room loudly doing an impression that Joe couldn’t pin down. Along with this, Joe was still absolutely smashed. His hand was wrapped loosely around the neck of a champagne bottle and he had to really concentrate in order to focus his vision. He couldn’t believe he’d been the first one to pass out. 

For a while he laid there wondering if it was worth it to rejoin the boys. Another burst of laughter told him he should get his ass in there. He sat up finally, looking around at where he’d ended up, impressed that he’d made it as far as a bed. What he didn’t plan on however was the fact that he was wearing a silky shift. “Wha’ th’fuck?” He muttered to himself, pinching the fabric between his pointer and thumb. It was comfortable but it most certainly was not what he’d fallen asleep in. 

He carefully pushed himself off the bed, taking a moment to regain his balance. Across the room was a vanity with a large round mirror. Joe stared at his reflection in disbelief. He wondered if it was possible to be too drunk because whatever he was seeing must have been a hallucination. He squinted at the mirror, stepping close enough so that he could lean his weight on the vanity. His cheeks had been dusted with rouge, mascara was clumped in his lashes, and blue eyeshadow tinted his eyelids. His lips had been painted bright red but had been smudged; by sleep or poor application was unclear. 

More laughter from behind the door broke his focus. “Those bastards,” he muttered.

He stumbled over to the door, struggling with the knob before he was able to slam it open. The sound of it hitting the wall brought immediate quiet over the men as they all stared back at him with surprise and amusement. 

They were all gathered around a dining table. They’d dragged extra chairs and couches to comfortably fit everyone. The room was thick with smoke and everyone was hanging off of eachother in ways that they wouldn’t if they were not extremely drunk. 

Luz was squashed into the corner of a couch by Perconte who was leaning heavily into him, looking half asleep. Babe and Johnny were both in comfortable looking arm chairs that had been pulled up to the table. Next to them, Webster was slouched in a wooden dining chair, a bottle of champagne resting in his lap. Malarkey was also in a dining chair with his back to Liebgott, he’d turned around to take him in. Someone was on the floor behind the couch, Joe couldn’t identify him as only a pair of socked feet stuck out from behind the couch. They’d started with significantly more men but evidently many of them had retired for the night.

“Fraulein Liebgott!” Luz exclaimed, raising up a bottle of champagne to toast him. “So nice of you to join us!” he giggled, looking around at the other guys for comedic validation.

Joe pointed an accusatory finger at the group. “Somebody is gonna fuckin’ die.”

Laughter burst out from everyone, even Perconte who Joe wasn’t sure was even conscious. Malarkey leaned forward on his elbows, holding his face in his hands as he laughed. Babe had leaned over to grab Johnny’s shoulder, shaking him as if to convey how funny he thought it all was. Webster had a distant smile on his face as he stared at Joe with his mouth hanging agape. 

Staring at his giggling group of friends he wanted to take every one of them by the collar and give them a good punch. “I’m serious,” he slurred, “You fuckers better tell me who’s idea this was,” 

Suddenly fingers were pointing in every direction as each man yelled at another about how it was ‘his idea’. 

“The dress was Luz’s idea!”

“Well, Malarkey found the lipstick!”

“Yeah, and you’re the one who put it on!”

“You said we should do his eyes!”

The room was filled with overlapping cries of denial and accusation. The only one not taking part in the discourse was Webster who was still staring at Joe. Joe stared Webster down with a scowl, raising an eyebrow at him. Web only laughed and shook his head as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a swig. He raised it towards Liebgott, offering it to him. 

Joe rolled his eyes, wandering over to take the bottle from Webster. He took it and shuffled over to the opposite end of the couch that Perco and Luz were on. “You guys suck,” he grumbled, slouching back onto the couch, practically melting into it. He had his legs spread wide so that the dress rode up above his boxers and he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The lip of the bottle came away lipstick-stained as he took a gulp from it. 

Luz leaned past Perconte to jostle Lieb’s shoulder. “Fraulein, did you hear? The war’s over, I think that calls for some celebration! We’ve got a mighty fine selection of brave men who I’m sure would be honored to take you to bed.”

Everyone around the table hit it with their fists, laughing along with Luz. Joe glared at Luz, smacking his hand away.

“Yeah, c’mon, gimme a chance, Miss!” Babe laughed, pushing Lieb’s shoulder playfully. 

Joe would’ve retaliated against Babe except the fact he was trying to push Perconte back onto Luz’s side of the couch. He’d fallen over into Joe and was cuddling with his shoulder. “I hate all’a you, I should’a stayed asleep.” 

“I don’t think Web’s gotten any action since we left the states,” Malarkey giggled, letting his face fall back into his hands. 

Web’s eyes widened as he turned to Malarkey, taking a cork from the table and throwing it at him. “Shut. Up.” It could’ve been a joke, but the way his face turned red told everyone what they needed to know. 

Malarkey’s voice was muffled but he choked out, “I bet he’d love a chance with Fraulein Lieb.”