Getting The Wolf Drunk

Summary: When Jason gets drunk he licks.

Author's Note: I�m not a terribly talented humor writer but I do hope that the drunken Jason is enough to keep you happy.

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It takes a lot to get a werewolf drunk. A lot of hard liquor very quickly and with a steadily sustained intake. To get a werewolf drunk takes a decidedly ridiculous amount of very real, very determined will power.

That doesn�t mean, however, that Jason doesn�t like to get utterly and completely smashed out of his brain on a fairly regular basis. Asher has never minded this quirk of the young wolf�s. In fact the blonde vampire goes to great lengths to ensure that he is, more often than not, with the blonde man when he decides that its time to drink himself into a sullen stupor.

The wolf doesn�t realize it but when Jason gets drunk he licks.

No porn star swipes of a flat tongue across a collar bone or inviting dips of his tongue into the shell of an ear. Nothing so interesting. Just little kittenish flicks of his tongue against the nearest patch of bare skin, his tongue soft and warm, licking the salt from heated skin.

Asher makes a point of being the nearest person.

When Jason drinks it is Asher who fills his glass and Asher who murmurs that maybe he�s had enough and would he like a glass of water? When Jason is knocking back Irish Car Bombs with Zane and Caleb it is Asher who sits quietly beside him, waiting for his inevitable trek to the nearest soft chair to curl up against someone and lick.

The vampire is fairly confident that�s he�s subtle, that Jason doesn�t know how he feels about him. Asher is also fairly confident that there is not even the slightest shadow of a doubt in Jean-Claude�s mind as to how he feels about the blonde wolf. It is there in his eyes, in the curve of his lips and the underlying tone in his voice.

�He�s on the roof, mon ami, alone,� Jean-Claude doesn�t look up from his computer, idly clicking through business emails, a new lighting director, a few potential costume designers, a new stripper�s resume. Asher smiles and touches a dark curl of hair before leaving Jean-Claude to his work, before heading up onto the roof.

--

It is one of those nights where the sky is dark with storm clouds that loom close and heavy and pregnant; One of those nights that make the whole world boil down to a single intimate moment in time that stretches out impossibly before you and seems as though it will never end, no matter if you want it to or not. Jean-Claude is rarely wrong about the whereabouts of his people and this, Asher is thankful, is no exception to the rule. Jason�s legs hang off the edge of the roof and he is staring at the sparkling lights of the city between Jean-Claude�s grotesque fanged clowns and neon writing as Asher sinks down next to him. The roof is grimy and Asher is sure he has ruined perfectly good slacks.

Jason chuckles, the warm sound slurred a little between lips he can no longer feel and he leans into Asher, that unconscious flick of his tongue starting again. Asher is absolutely sure the wolf doesn�t know that he is licking along the curve of a scarred jaw. For once Asher doesn�t worry what he will think of the scars, he just cares that Jason is touching him again.

�What can you possibly find so terribly amusing, petit loup?� Asher asks quietly, his hand smoothing over the silk boy�s sandy blonde hair, relishing in the heat of his body that seeps into him even through their clothing.

�You�re up on a nasty, dirty roof with me in a custom made, zillion dollar, Italian suit,� the soft �s� sounds in Jason�s speech are slurred gently and he lulls back into the curve of Asher�s arm. His tongue moves to the bare skin revealed on Asher�s forearm where he has rolled up his sleeves.

�So I am,� Asher smiles, a real, gentle smile and looked down at the drunken wolf, currently lapping a wet stripe across a faint scar on the underside of his arm. Asher seems to remember that he got it when he was very young, ten or eleven perhaps. There should be something sexual in the action, he decides. There used to be. Now, however, the gentle wetness of the wolf�s tongue brings a surge of affection that smothers the rising lust in Asher�s blood �What, pray tell, are you doing all the way up here, Jason? Why are you drinking all alone on the �nasty, dirty roof�?�

�Killer air quotes,� Jason teases, gesturing vaguely with his hands. For a second he dissolves into drunken amusement to a soundtrack of his own giggling. It does not take long for him to sober and move his tongue to the dip of Asher�s collar bone �I knew you�d show up. You always show up when I get tanked.�

The ever insistent flick of his tongue stills and he pulls away, rising to his unsteady feet like a puppet pulled up by too few strings. Asher stands as well, worried that the poor wolf will loose his balance and fall to his death; it doesn�t matter if you�re a werewolf or not dashing your skull open on the concrete will likely still kill you. The look on Jason�s face is part determination and part the exuberance of youth. Asher is bewitched by it, drunk on his inability to hide his feelings in this state of utter inebriation.

�Asher,� his intoxication draws out Asher�s name, hyper extending the few short syllables into a monstrous thing that goes straight to Asher�s groin. Jason wavers on his feet, the alcohol affecting more than just his judgment and the vampire draws him close, a steadying hand on his lower back. Jason�s laugh is the fuzzy sound of the truly drunk, �want you.�

�Jason,� Asher�s voice is a low warning against this - more for himself than for Jason - but Jason�s lips are covering his and the last thing he can possibly think about now is coherent thought patterns. The wolf�s mouth is warm and wet and he tastes like the fireball whiskey he�s been drinking, the bottle is still clutched in one hand. Asher pulls away with a reluctant moan after a few heady moments �You�re drunk.�

�I�m not!� Jason stumbles back a step, hands held out in front of him to ward off the accusations, palms forward, fingers spread. He scowls at Asher �I�m juss�a little tipsy is all.�

On the word �tipsy� Jason�s fingers wiggle slightly, of their own accord as if to give more weight to the word. Asher laughs, a warm rough sound as the wolf sways and promptly passes out.

There is something about being left on a roof cradling an inebriated werewolf that Asher is quite pleased by.

It could have something to do with Jason�s proclamation of his desire. Asher smiles a little wickedly. Yes it probably has something to do with that. With a soft brush of his lips over Jason�s mouth, he swings him up into his arms easily and heads back into the depths of the circle to let the wolf sleep it off because they are going to have a long talk when he wakes up.

And then Asher is going to show him there are better things to do with his mouth than talk.

The End