An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: SEAL Team (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Emma Hayes & Jason Hayes & Michael Hayes, Emma Hayes & Michael Hayes, Mandy Ellis/Jason Hayes/Brock Reynolds
Characters: Michael Hayes (SEAL Team TV), Emma Hayes, Jason Hayes, Mandy Ellis, Brock Reynolds
Additional Tags: dumb bets, Sibling Bonding, Mikey and Emma giving Jason shit
Summary:
Mikey and Emma have picked up dumb bets from their Bravo uncles and what better thing to risk money on than their dad's love life?
Sure, Louis is a little drunk. But he's also a little brilliant, right? And there's no way that he's wrong about this wager. (Has he ever been wrong about anything, ever? Nope!)
Featuring a weird bet and a sticky mess, but not in the smutty way.
cw: alcohol use and bad decisions (but without negative consequences)
Written for @hi-larrie-ous because she sent me some prompts, and I liked it enough that I put it on AO3.
P.S.S. The sis and I have somewhat matching bruises on our foreheads ( her is shaped like a butt, mine a circle). Cause? Stupidity and stress balls. That is all.
Fic request from my big brother, based on this video by Roosterteeth. It actually turned out a lot longer than I expected.
Because Courfeyrac and Bahorel would be dumb enough to take part in bets like this.
“Are you guys sure you actually want to do this?”
“Of course!” Courfeyrac crowed, holding up the two 5lb gummy-bears – a green one for him, red for Bahorel. The two grinned at the camera Combeferre was setting up, a sceptic look on his face. “I fucking love gummy-bears, and I am going to eat this whole thing.”
“I think you’re going to be horribly sick and regret this, but whatever you say.” Combeferre shrugged. Grantaire cackled from where he was sat, opposite his friends. Courfeyrac and Bahorel sat in front of their respective gummy-bears, and Combeferre sighed.
“Ready?” He asked.
“Ready!” Courfeyrac grinned, flashing a grin at the camera.
~~::.::~~
“Do I want to know?” Enjolras asked as he walked into the kitchen to refill his coffee.
“Probably not.” Grantaire said.
“We have an hour and a half to eat these gummy-bears.” Courfeyrac said, chewing off the ear of his gummy-bear.
“We get €300 each if we do it.” Bahorel added. Enjolras raised an eyebrow and looked at Combeferre, still stood supervising. The bespectacled man just shook his head.
“Have fun with that then.” The blonde said in place of a farewell, as he left to return to his room.
“We will!” Courfeyrac called after him through a mouthful of the gummy-bear’s forehead.
~~::.::~~
Feuilly appeared about ten minutes in, standing beside Combeferre for a moment to watch as Courfeyrac and Bahorel gnawed through the faces of their gummy-bears. Grantaire sat opposite them, sipping casually from a beer.
“Think you’ll ever eat another gummy bear again?” He asked. Bahorel wrinkled his nose.
“Not for a long while.” He muttered.
“Still going strong.” Courfeyrac piped up, shaking his fist a little as if in victory. Bahorel retaliated by tearing a huge chunk out of the side of his gummy-bears face.
“You’ll get no sympathy from me later.” Feuilly warned.
“Why would I need your sympathy?” Bahorel asked, smirking a little. Feuilly just shook his head and walked off.
~~::.::~~
Half an hour in, and Courfeyrac was attempting to beg some of Grantaire’s beer off him.
“I want something to wash the taste away a little.” He complained.
“This is my beer, and you have water.”
“The water doesn’t help.” Courfeyrac pouted.
“I’d eat something else; just to get rid of the taste for a minute.” Bahorel muttered. “Can we do that?”
“I think no.” Grantaire said. “Combeferre?”
“Don’t drag me into this more than you already have.” Combeferre said, his voice taking on its I-am-200%-done-with-you-idiots-and-your-shit tone. “If you want to stop, then stop.”
“Never.” Courfeyrac hissed. Combeferre rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed again.
“Come on boys, eat up; you’ve only got another hour.” Grantaire grinned. Courfeyrac grimaced down at his gummy-bear, took a swig of water, and bit into the sweet again.
~~::.::~~
It took them fifty minutes to finally give up.
“You both owe me €200.” Grantaire smirked.
“Shut the hell up.” Bahorel growled, sprawled back in his chair, eyes screwed shut.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Courfeyrac announced, before bolting for the bathroom. The sound of his retching set Bahorel off, who thundered upstairs to the second bathroom, almost knocking Bossuet down the stairs on his way.
“What got into him?” He asked, peering his head into the kitchen.
“The head of a giant gummy-bear.” Combeferre deadpanned. “I’m going to go and check on Courfeyrac.”
He paused outside the door until the sound of Courfeyrac being violently sick stopped, before carefully pushing it open. He wrinkled his nose at the smell, and looked to Courfeyrac, still knelt by the bowl.
“How much do you regret this now?” Combeferre asked him.
“Man, fuck off.” Courfeyrac groaned.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Combeferre muttered instead. “Maybe Jehan will have more sympathy for you.”
