Disclaimer: Still don't own a single share of the franchise.
Title: That Last Shot
Prompt(s): My own desire to write something cliché and funny.
Character(s): Lilly, Oliver and Parker
Words: 486
Rating: T
Music: Britney Spears', "Mmm Papi"
You remembered walking into Jake's apartment completely sober; almost happily sober. You plan on staying this way because the last time you got drunk you puked on Miley's Jimmy Choo stiletto's and you woke up with a painful migraine which still haunts you.
Of course, you've gotten a little tipsy from time to time, and maybe even to the point were you joined Parker on the bar counter, but you haven't gotten wasted in years.
You plan on keeping it that way.
--
The moment Parker skips over to you with the bottle of tequila in her hands and a goofy, lopsided grin on her face you knew this was trouble. Even more trouble when you saw your best friend out of the corner of your eye and he smiled at you. At that moment, the half empty bottle extended to you looked extremely inviting.
Two hours later you're giggling madly as Oliver grabs your arm and yanks you gently off the kitchen island.
"Come on Missy. I think it's about time we leave." His words sound a little fuzzy and you think maybe he's had a bit to drink too.
"But Parker will miss me too much." You stick out your lower lip and you give him your infamous puppy eyes.
He chuckles in a way that makes your knees feel like gelatin, and points in the direction of the living room, and there you see your other best friend snoring on the couch.
--
You thank God that you and Jake live in the same building because you aren't all that sure you'll make it very far; even with Oliver's arm around your waist steadying you as you wait for the elevator.
"Your hair is like a kitty's fur." You state as you bring your hand up and start petting him.
The doors open with a ding and he drags you into it as you continue to play with his hair. You let out a laugh and snort as you loose your balance and fall against his chest.
You vividly remember your head clouding over with naughty thoughts around this time and the elevator feeling stuffy. Oliver mutters something about boundaries and you smile cutely at his respectfulness. It makes you laugh because the only thing on your mind is pure, hot lust.
You sink your lips onto his, and hands are suddenly moving furiously and grasping at one another's body. The elevator dings once again and as soon as you get your apartment door open, articles of clothing are removed in a desperate and needy fashion.
--
Your inebriated state brings you to the very next morning where you awake with a pounding headache and the mattress feeling heavier than usual. Of course, the moment you look over and see the all-to-familiar hair, you regret it instantly.
You run your hand through your hair and mutter one word over and over again.
"Shit."
It's an overused plot and yet so amusing to write.
As if my non originality wasn't a sign, I have creativity drought. Yep. Running low on ideas. Anyone care to share any?