Daphne in the wood (bromantic) wrote,
Daphne in the wood

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FAKE fic - The drunken escapades of Drake and J.J

For rachia

Title - The Drunken Escapades of Drake and J.J
Fandom - FAKE
Pairing - Drake/JJ
Summary - "Grown men get drunk"

The Drunken Escapades of Drake and J.J
By Timmesque



Grown men get drunk.

Well, grown policemen get drunk. 

It’s a fairly common practice after a long day to just crash someone’s apartment, buy some booze, even pull out an Xbox or two, drink, play, drink and eventually just crash when the alcohol hits the brain like a hammer to the bell. Sometimes, when they actually had money to splurge, they would go out to an actual bar and just grab a corner for themselves, listening to the jazz fill up the air like well-endowed whiskey to the ears. They don’t binge drink when they go out. No, they usually show some decorum outside.

They only start puking after they’ve left the bar. 

And there are drinking partners. At first, it was Drake and Dee. Drake always believed they made good drinking partners. Smart enough to know when to stop and dumb enough to keep it coming. A good balance, he believed, and the kind hard-pressed to find amongst other cops. He recalled dimly raising his glass to see Dee through the alcohol. He couldn’t remember what image came to him through the cool, brown liquid, but the softened edges of green eyes peering back at him was something that never dulled in his memory.

Then Ryo came and well, Dee was too busy to think about alcohol. And Drake didn’t think he was sad enough to go drinking alone. Quick on Ryo’s heels, came J.J who became Drake’s partner. 

Their first bar outing had been interesting.

“What do you mean, you don’t drink.”  

“I don’t drink! Why would I do such a—,” J.J frowned and huffed mid-sentence, “The point is, I. Don’t. Drink.”

“Then, why come to a bar?” Drake said, somewhat amused and irritated at the same time. 

J.J just gave him a disbelieving look, “I couldn’t let my partner go on his own. Give me some credit.”

Drake laughed. J.J just stared at him angrily, a slight blush dusting his cheeks.


Their second visit felt more like a lesson. If anything, Drake wanted to teach J.J the finer wonders of a good drink. J.J just wanted to know if mixing gin and vodka with obscene amounts of sugar was okay. It was like fighting a losing battle.

J.J started choking on his drink and Drake thoughtfully patted his back. 


Their third visit was an improvement. J.J had ordered a scotch on the rocks and with masterful care, let the scotch sink into the ice like a prayer before picking it up and taking delicate sips. Drake had ordered a martini and let its sweetness tinge his tongue. They didn’t say much that day. They simply let the clink of ice do the talking for them. 


Their fourth visit was the disastrous one. 

“Another one,” J.J said bluntly, nearly banging the mug against the counter like a judge would take a hammer to the gavel. Drake winced at the sound and tried to pry J.J’s fingers off the handle.

“I wan’ ‘nother one,” he slurred his words together into a close mesh of gibberish, his head dropping against the counter. 

“You’ve had enough,” Drake said finally, “I’m leaving.”

J.J didn’t deign to answer, but Drake could see the bleary look of spite in his eyes. Drake took his coat and left. 

He waited outside for ten minutes until J.J stumbled out of the bar, his legs shaking. He spun to see Drake and stood there as if his presence struck him dumb. Drake placed a steadying hand on J.J’s shoulder and took him home. J.J said nothing, mumbling broken sentences under his breath and a few soft sobs that slipped into the night air.

Drake never asked what happened to Max. J.J never told him. 


The cornerstone visit was the time all of them went to the bar. Ryo included. They took to themselves in a corner, simply drinking and sharing stories. Dee’s eyes lazily travelled from glass to glass and Drake could see the green shine in the dim light. 

But he raised his glass to capture J.J’s eyes in the reflection and those eyes met his in a brief collision that set him apart from Dee.

Drake set his glass down and smiled. It felt right, he thought, to replace that memory with a new one. He had a new partner.

And he wanted to keep him.


  • (no subject)

    I wonder if it's possible to make a life for yourself if you keep failing secondary education.

  • (no subject)

    I'm starting to wonder if good MCU Bucky players are like mythical creatures. Everyone thinks they exist, but they really don't.

  • (no subject)

    With talk of Civil War and Ant-Man, maybe the MCU will destroy itself in a blaze of glory. One can hope.

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