Title: Whisky and Coffee Tables
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Stephen/Ryan
Words: 177
Rating,Warnings: PG
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None
AN: Drunk Stephen was fun to write and I had wanted to play with him more. Here is just a silly little ficlet to see if it can't help brighten
morrigans_eve's day.
“I think we should stop now.”
“I think we should have stopped a while ago.”
“You’re drunker than me.” Ryan giggled, then clamped a hand over his mouth.
“I’m not. It’s a vishoos rumour. I’m a soberer as a judgy thing.”
With that Stephen picked himself up off the sofa and stood with a flourish, as if pleased with his own vertical skills.
With a smug and very self satisfied grin at Ryan he turned and started to weave his way towards the kitchen.
Suddenly something hit him on his shins and he pitched forward, careering to the ground in an ungainly way, with a frankly girlie squeak coming from him.
He lay on the floor and regarded the object of his undoing with some confusion.
“What happened?”
“You fell over the coffee table.” Ryan informed him, trying not to giggle and wondering where this sudden need to giggle all the time had come from anyway.
“I don’t have a coffee table. How can I fall over a coffee table I don’t have?”
“We’re at my house.”