Too drunk... or is he?
As requested, here is another story with Hazel and Spencer, who are not technically together but are "talking" or whatever you want to call it.
Friday nights were for 'movie nights'. Movie night meaning, watch 2 or 3 horror movies while getting trashed at Spencer's house and then drunk crashing until they both had to get up and go to work the next day.
When midnight rolled around they were both already 3 drinks in and feeling pretty buzzed. In fact, Spencer was feeling pretty drunk actually, which was kind of weird. Usually he could drink a lot and be okay but his stomach was turning a little bit.
"Here, you wanna help me finish this?" he said, handing his drink to Hazel, who was working on her 3rd one as well.
"Yeah sure," she shrugged, taking the drink from him. She basically always drank whatever he handed her. They passed them back and forth most of the time.
"Nah, I'm good," he said when she tried to hand it back to him.
"You done?" she asked.
"Yeah I think so," Spencer said, scooting forward so he could lay back against the pillows.
"Drunk already? I'm still feeling pretty sober honestly," she said in surprise. Usually he drank way more than she did.
"No... I don't know. I'm feeling kinda sick actually," he shrugged.
"What's wrong?" Hazel asked, taking another swig of his drink to finish it off.
"I'm pretty nauseous..." he trailed off, bringing a hand up to rest on his churning stomach.
"From drinking you think or something else? Cause you didn't really have that much," she said. He has a stomach of steel when it comes to alcohol usually.
"I don't know, I just don't feel very good all of a sudden," he shrugged, rolling over to press his face against her side.
"Here, I'll go get you some water. Just a sec," she said, giving his arm a squeeze before getting up and walking into his kitchen to fill up a glass.
"Take a couple sips," she instructed, handing him the glass as she sat back down. He did as he was told, while Hazel continued drinking her beer.
"Thank you," he said, handing the water back to her. She took a sip herself, then downed the rest of her beer, figuring that the smell of it probably wouldn't do Spencer's stomach any favors.
She got up and took their empty bottles to the kitchen so he wouldn't have to smell them, then came back and laid down next to him. He immediately curled up to her, draping a leg over hers and laying his head on her chest.
"Oh. Hey... You're okay," she said, taken off guard. He wasn't usually so clingy, even when drunk. She wrapped her arm around him, tracing her fingers up and down his back.
"Hmm that feels nice," he mumbled against her shirt.
"You feeling any better?" she asked, leaning her cheek down against his head.
"No, my tummy's not feeling good," he said quietly, "Something's not sitting right in there..." he continued.
"Do you think you're gonna throw up?" she asked, pouting in sympathy.
"I don't know... maybe," he shrugged, taking a slow deep breath to try and keep his stomach in place. He certainly felt like throwing up but alcohol is never fun coming back up, so he really didn't want to.
His body seemed to have other ideas. After a particularly uncomfortable gurgle his stomach lurched, and Spencer burped wetly into his fist, turning away from Hazel. He immediately groaned, curling in on himself even more. The world was spinning now, but not because he was drunk.
"Ookay that didn't sound too good. Think you can make it to the bathroom or should I grab the trash can?" Hazel asked.
"I can make it," he said shortly, his lips pressed into a thin line. Hazel slowly sat up, bringing Spencer with her. She watched as all of the color drained from his face and took on a grey tint, his eyes glazing over.
"Alright, come on, I've got you," she said, sliding off of his bed and holding her hands out to him. She carefully helped him up onto shaking legs, pressing a hand his back to gently push him into the bathroom.
"Fuck," he muttered, dropping down to his knees in front of the toilet as he pushed the seat up. He had an arm wrapped around his middle and used his other hand to prop his head up on the edge of the bowl.
"You want me to stay or leave you alone?" Hazel asked, hovering awkwardly in the doorway.
"Stay. Please," he practically whimpered, turning to look back at her with teary eyes. Man he must really be feeling bad, normally he'd fight tooth and nail for her to not be around when he was so vulnerable.
"Aw Spence, you're really not feeling good huh? Of course I'll stay," she said softly, moving to sit behind him so she could rub his back.
He simply groaned in response, muscles tensing as he fought back a heave. His stomach clenched again, forcing up another belch which he stifled into his fist.
"Hey, don't fight it. You'll probably feel better if you get it out," Hazel said, scooting a little closer to him. She reached around and placed her other hand on his arm, rubbing her thumb up and down like she always does when he's upset.
Spencer took a shaky deep breath, obviously still fighting against the inevitable. But his body took over, sending him lurching forward with a heave that brought up a mouthful of alcohol. His eyes watered as the liquid burned all the way up and out.
He tried to concentrate on the feeling of Hazel's hands on him, cool against his warm skin. Her hands were always cold. Spencer briefly wondered if he had a fever, it was so hot in here. That thought was quickly replaced by the pain in his stomach as another wave of alcohol and what little he'd eaten today was forced up and out of his mouth.
Hazel was saying something behind him, but he couldn't understand her. It sounded muffled and far away. His ears were ringing. He leaned over the toilet bowl, panting to try and catch his breath. His stomach hurt, his chest hurt, his head was pounding, and even his eyes hurt.
"Okay, easy, I think you're done," Hazel's voice cut through his haze then. One of her hands moved to his hip, gently pulling him away from the toilet.
She reached over and grabbed a few squares of toilet paper, using one to wipe off his mouth and the other to dab away the tears from the corners of his eyes. He let them slip shut, feeling exhausted and achy.
"How's your stomach feeling?" Hazel asked quietly, wrapping an arm around Spencer to pull him back against her chest so he was leaning against her, his head on her shoulder.
"Still hurts, not nauseous though," he shrugged, relaxing against her.
"Okay, well that's a start. I think you might have a fever, you're pretty warm," she added, bringing a hand up to press against his forehead.
"Mmm," he hummed in agreement, nuzzling into her neck. He felt her wrap both her arms around him, which made him press even closer to her. Spencer let himself breathe her in for just a second. Even though he felt absolutely miserable, he realized, that there was where else he'd rather be right now than in her arms.
Spence, he thought to himself, when you're not puking your guts out anymore you better ask this girl out.










