Woody raised his glass, draining the last of his beer in one gulp. The alcohol burnt his throat as it went down and he got up and moved swiftly to the dance floor, smacking a few asses on the way in his drunken state. The music was loud, poppy, the kind you can dance to.
Or have sex to, Woody thought briefly, as someone he didn't know started grinding on him, but the thought was soon pushed out of his head by the steady, pulsing beat of the music. The lights were flashing rapidly in assorted colors, warranting a seizure warning on the front door.
After several more minutes of dancing, the sheriff's vision started swimming. He made his way back to a barstool to clear his head. He considered ordering another beer, but opted for a hard lemonade instead. A few minutes and several swigs later, when his head was still spinning and he realized that more alcohol wasn't helping, he decided it was time to call somebody. Woody tilted the bottle up and drained the last half slowly. Wobbling to his feet, he made his way on unstable legs toward the pay phone.
"Hello?" came a tired-sounding male voice after two rings.
"Hey, Buzz," Woody slurred.
"Woody? Is that you?" Woody nodded, not realizing Buzz couldn't see him. "Where are you? I can barely hear you."
"Buzz, can you come get me," he asked.
"Woody, are you drunk?" Buzz asked, disbelieving. Of all the years he'd known the cowboy, he'd never known him to get drunk.
"Mhm." Buzz barely heard the mumbled answer, but it was enough to make up his mind.
"All right, Woody. I'll be there. Where are you?"
"I'm at the Jewelry Box. D'you know where that is, Buzz?"
"No, but I can find it. I'll be there just as soon as possible, Woody." The cowboy heard a sigh from the other line. "And Woody, try to stay out of trouble until I get there." The line went dead. Woody stumbled back to his stool and ordered another beer.
When Buzz walked in, he shielded his eyes from the vlashing lights and flinched at the sight of Woody taking a gulp of beer while the fruity-looking guy next to him talked energetically. Buzz marched up to the bar.
"Woody, it's time to go," he announced. Woody looked him over.
"Oh, hey, Buzz." He said. Buzz grabbed his friend's arm and tugged gently. Woody went willingly, climbing down from the stool and almost immediately stumbling. Buzz caught him by the arm and started to support him away from the counter.
"Hey, he hasn't paid yet!" the bartender called. Buzz sighed again. After a minute of digging in his pockets, he threw a 50 on the counter.
"Keep the change," he mumbled, starting away as the bartender checked the bill.
"Hey, buddy," he called, and Buzz flinched again. "This isn't enough." Buzz looked at Woody, shocked.
"What did you do, buy drinks for half the bar?" he hissed in his friend's ear. He threw an extra 20 down. The bartender nodded and Buzz turned, again, to leave.
"Call me, cowboy," the drnk Woody had been talking to slurred after them. Buzz glanced back in time to see the man wink and swat Woody playfully on the ass. Buzz put his arm around Woody's waist and hauled ass out the door. When Woody was safely strapped into the passenger seat, Buzz took his seat on the driver's side.
"Woody." He turned the key.
"Can you roll down the window?" Woody asked, and Buzz obliged, despite the cold.
"Woody, what the hell. Was that a gay bar?" He eased the car into drive and pulled away.
"Yeah, sho what? Can't a- a guy have a little fun?" Woody shot back.
"Is something wrong, Woody? I've never seen you do this."
"Nope. Jusht wanted to have shome fun."
"All right... if you say so." A few awkward moments passed. "Is - Is there something you need to tell me?" Woody didn't replied. Buzz glanced at him out of the corner of his eye; Woody was sound asleep. Buzz sighed, "Well, I guess sleeping is better than puking in my Corvette..." He could ask him about it tomorrow. He reached down and turned on the radio for some background noise, but not too loud so as to avoid waking the cowboy. He sang around softly to the quiet music and didn't notice the content smile spread over his sleeping friend's face.
He finally pulled into Woody's driveway fifteen minutes later; it was still another 5 minute drive to his house, but he didn't figure Woody would mind if he stayed the night here. He felt like he needed to keep watch over his friend; he'd never seen Woody so drunk before. And with an alcohol tolerance like the sherriff's, you had to put a lot of alcohol in you to get this drunk. He sighed; he'd lost count of how many times he'd sighed since midnight, when the phone had rang and woken him up. He walked around the car, opened the door, and unbuckled his friend. Woody's eyes opened, and he looked up at Buzz and smiled.
"Hey, Buzz," he said. Buzz nodded and put his arm around the cowboy, pulling him up to help him to his bed. "Don'tcha need my keys?"
"No, Woody, you gave me a spare last week," Buzz reminded him. "Come on, buddy, let's get you inside." Woody tried to walk along with his friend, but resigned to just letting Buzz drag his legs along, as he couldn't get them to work properly. After a brief struggle, he got the door unlocked and finally got Woody through the door to his bedroom. Finally, Woody spoke up again.
"Tonight wash fun, but I jus' figured out what it wash missing," he said, still slurring.
"Yeah, what's that, Woody?" Buzz asked absent-mindedly.
"You," Woody whispered into Buzz's ear, squeezing his friends shoulders. Buzz's head shot up, suddenly paying very close attention to the cowboy - the way his hand was carressing his shoulder, the way his breath was warming his ear as the words sunk in.
"Wait, what?"
"I missed you, Buzz. It would'a been funner if you were there." Buzz sat Woody on his own bed, grateful to be rid of his friend's breath on his ear. Woody used his arms to push himself up off the bed and he stood, towering over the blonde man. Drunkenly, he swung his arms around Buzz's neck and kissed him.
"Wh-" he spluttered, pushing his friend away. "Woody, what are you doing?"
"I like you, Buzz!"
"Woody, this is ridiculous. You're drunk. Get a good night's sleep and you'll see, it's just the alcohol."
"It'sh not!" Woody protested, reaching up to touch Buzz's lips. "Do you not like me?"
"Woody." Buzz closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "It's not that I don't like you," he said, forcing a half-confession out of his throat, "but you're drunk. You'll regret anything in the morning. I'm not going to do that to you." Woody looked up at him, his bottom lip poking out a little more than normal in an uncharacteristic pout. "God, I hope you don't remember this in the morning."
"But -"
"No. No buts. Go to bed." Buzz pushed Woody down onto the bed so he was laying down. "Get some sleep, cowboy."
"Aw, alright," Woody said, still pouting slightly. "Buzz?"
Buzz, making his way to the door and light switch, paused. "What, Woody?"
"Thanks for bringing me home, Buzz," he said as his friend turned off the light. Buzz smiled softly as he closed the door.
The next morning when Woody finally made his way to the kitchen, holding his head, Buzz was already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. Cheeks reddening slightly, he made his way over and sat next to his friend.
"Morning, Buzz. You, uh, you spent the night here?"
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, I slept on the couch. I didn't think you'd mind too much," Buzz answered, sipping from his mug.
"No, not at all. I'm, uh, sorry about last night." Buzz looked his friend over, trying to figure out what part of the night he was talking about. "Calling you to pick me up, and all." He nodded.
"No problem. Uh... Woody, how much do you remember of last night?
"...All of it," Woody admitted after a couple awkward seconds, his cheeks now glowing red. "Look, Buzz, I'm really sorry- I didn't - didn't..."
"Didn't...?" Buzz got up to fix a mug of coffee for his friend. "Woody. What's going on?"
"I'm sorry, Buzz," Woody said quietly. "I wasn't going to tell you."
"Tell me ... what? That you're...?" Woody nodded slowly.
"That, and, that... well."
"You like... me?" It was phrased as a question, but both parties knew it was a statement.
"Yeah."
"Well, cowboy, you seem to have forgotten the most important part of last night, then," Buzz said seriously. Woody looked up worriedly.
"What? Did - did I do something else stupid?" Buzz set the coffee in front of Woody and shook his head. He tilted the sherriff's chin up and kissed him softly before sitting back in his own chair, blushing a brilliant red.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he said, and they both laughed weakly.
A/n I'm not really sure how I feel about this one. XD I kind of like it and kind of -facepalm-. I hope you like it though. :3