Sober me vs. Drunk me

V2

*****

(Ryan)

"I cannot believe you married Jesse Summer," I called out.

I was visiting my dad for the holidays in Los Angeles. I planned on staying a couple weeks since it'd been a few years since we'd seen each other. I'd just gotten in that morning, and in our old habit, we went to work on my car as we caught up.

I was on my back on a mechanic creeper underneath my classic 1965 Mustang. It'd been a gift from my parents on my 16th birthday and I'd been restoring it slowly but surely over the years. It was 90% finished, with all the mechanics being done and now just needed a classic paint job. I was doing standard maintenance on the undercarriage, checking all the seals and bearings.

"What's wrong with that?" my dad asked.

I snorted, "You know damn well," I teased. "On principal alone you should've never talked to her."

"What can I say, she was too beautiful to resist and by the time I found out I was already smitten," he said.

"God save me, pretty sure even mom would give you hell for that," I said.

"Hey, even in Game of Thrones they had to make crazy alliances," he said.

Checking one last bolt I replied, "And look how well that turned out for most of them."

He chuckled, "Winter is coming."

I snorted, "Yeah, winter is coming."

"Where she'd go anyway?" I asked.

"To pick her sister up from the airport," he replied. "You'll like her, she's cute and only two years older than you. According to her sister, she's also a little... wild."

I raised an eyebrow as I rolled out from underneath the car but before I could ask further, we both heard a car pull into our driveway. My dad cocked his head.

"Ryan, come meet your new family," my dad said as he walked inside the house.

"K," I said standing up. "Just let me wash my hands."

As I walked back into the house from the garage, I stopped in our laundry room, which was the transition between the kitchen and the garage. I spent a few minutes cleaning up and checked myself in the mirror. I'd kept it simple today and was wearing sneakers, blue jeans, and a simple black t-shirt. Since I'd planned on doing some mechanical work, I didn't want to wear anything that might get ruined.

I was a little nervous since I was meeting my Dad's new wife for the first time. He was a widow during my high school years, and when I left to join the Marine Corps after I graduated, he apparently started seeing somebody. Deployments and stuff had kept me away for the last few years and I was just now coming home. They'd gotten married the past year and my dad really wanted me to get along with my new in-laws.

Truthfully, I don't know what he was worried about. My mom had died when I was in my teens, so I wasn't concerned about dad's new wife replacing her memory or anything crazy like that. Maybe I would've acted up at a younger age, who knows, but now I was just glad my dad had found someone that made him happy.

I heard the front door open as I walked into the kitchen. A few seconds later two beautiful women walked in.

The older one instantly looked at me, "Oh my god, I've been dying to meet you, I'm Jesse," she said, coming forward to give me a huge hug.

Jesse was lean, with dark hair and huge brown eyes and an easy smile. Right now, she was wearing slim jeans and a light blue blouse. Her relaxed manner and friendliness immediately put me at ease. She held the hug for a while and brought her hand to the back of my neck as she broke away.

"Your dad talks about you nonstop," she said. "I feel like I already know you. I hope we can become good friends."

I smiled and nodded my head, "I'm sure we will."

Turning, she pointed out her sister, "This is Alice."

Alice immediately took her place and gave me a hug.

"I've been wanting to meet you for a long time," she said.

We spent the next few minutes chatting and talking about what we each did. I knew from my dad most of what they were saying, but it was nice to hear it from each of them. Apparently, they were the only family they had. Their parents had died in a car accident shortly after Alice was born. Alice had been a very late surprise for them, that's why she was 20 years younger than her sister at 24.

As they talked, I studied them.

It was hard not to stare at Alice, she was taller than most girls, about a hand width shy of my own six feet. Right now, she was wearing a tight black tanktop with a Harry Potter Gryffindor emblem and denim shorts that looked a size to small. They molded to her firm ass and I could see a bit of cheek peeking out. She was beautiful, with lean muscles and a chest that filled her tanktop. He white blonde hair was in a messy ponytail that went just past her shoulders, she had that smattering of freckles across her face and chest that you get from spending a lot of time in the sun.

After a few minutes, dad motioned us out.

"You two get to know each other, Jesse and I are going to cook up some lunch," he said.

I motioned her in front of me as we moved over to the living room, my dad had the Christmas tree set up near the fireplace and was angled so that all the furniture faced it. He must have bought new furniture recently, because none of it was what I remembered, a sofa, loveseat and recliner all in dark suede fabric that was velvety soft to the touch. I went to the recliner and Alice took a seat opposite me on the couch.

"I'm curious, is that shirt just a shirt or are you a Harry Potter fan?" I asked.

"Gryffindor all the way baby," she cried out, raising her fist in the air.

I snorted.

"What, you got a problem with Gryffindor?" she asked.

"Slytherin rules," I teased.

She looked at me with mock outrage, "How can you say that? All the good guys are from Gryffindor."

"You mean all the losers," I replied, giving her an exaggerated "whatever" look.

"Are you kidding me right now?" she asked, her bright blue eyes flashing. "Please tell me you're joking, please say I'm not going to have to beat you up the first day we meet."

"Aren't we feisty?" I grinned.

"Keep dissing my house and I'll show you how feisty I can get," she taunted.

I held up my hands in a placating gesture, "Look, all I'm saying is the Gryffindor house was made for losers."

Her eyes narrowed, "You better explain yourself real fast buddy."

"Okay, Ravenclaw has all the smart people, right?" I asked.

She nodded.

"And Hufflepuff has all the hard workers," I continued.

"Yes," she agreed.

"And we all know Slytherin is willing to do what needs to be done," I said.

"Uh huh," she grunted.

"So you've creating a school with four qualities, you got hard workers, smart people, people that with do what it takes to get ahead, then you got the last group," I said, giving a condescending look. "I guess we'll call you guys 'brave' and give you your own house. Because that'll get you far in life."

I gave as much sarcasm as I could muster when I made air quotes as I said brave.

Her jaw dropped.

"I mean, have you ever put brave on a job application, or even a college application?" I asked playfully. "Cause of course, that's what all schools want, a brave applicant."

"Not smart, not hard working, not willing to sacrifice to get ahead, but brave," I said mockingly, rolling my eyes and giving her a thumbs up.

"But they're the heroes of the story," she snapped.

"Yeah, and a year later, what will that get them?" I replied. "Face it, anybody from Gryffindor is a loser."

She stayed still for a minute, eyes locked to mine, "I may have to kick your ass."

I laughed.

"You know, I felt bad about taking your room while I stayed here, now, not so much," she said.

My laughter stopped, "Wait, what?"

Suddenly she grinned and held up a hand to her mouth, "Oh, you didn't know that did you?"

With a false tone of sweetness, she said, "Yeah, I'm sorry, your dad said I can stay in your room and you can sleep on the couch while I'm here."

I narrowed my eyes and frowned.

"Guess house Gryffindor gets the perks and Slytherin has to rough it," she sighed with fake sincerity. "I mean, you guys are willing to do whatever it takes."

At that point my dad called us for lunch and we went into the kitchen.

"I can't believe you gave her my room," I said as we all took a seat at the kitchen island to eat.

My dad looked up confused, "Huh?"

"My room," I stated. "You gave it away."

"Oh yeah, well we can't have a guest sleep on the couch, besides you're a Marine, you're used to roughing it," he said.

I glared at Alice who was smirking with a raised eyebrow, she had a bite of food on her fork and right before she brought it to her lips she mouthed, "Gryffindor rules."

*****

(Ryan)

My eyes snapped open. For a moment I lay on the couch, blinking the sleep away and mentally clearing the cobwebs. I glanced at the window and could see by the lightening sky that it was predawn. I pulled the blanket off my body and shifted to a sitting position. Glancing around I saw that I was alone so I stood and went to my duffel bag and grabbed some clothes. I only wore sport briefs to sleep so I put on some red knee length running shorts and a black tank top. I stretched my body for a few minutes and then grabbed my sneakers and socks.

Heading outside I went for a light jog. I lost myself in the early morning, focusing on my breathing and the quiet sounds of the waking world. I ran a five-mile circle and stopped on my front porch sweating. By now the sun had fully risen and I caught my breath while admiring the view of the nearby mountains. After a few minutes I started stretching my muscles as I cooled down. Once I finished, I headed inside.

I went to the kitchen to get some water and found Alice there. She was bent over with her forearms on the kitchen island and holding a cup of coffee in both hands while looking at her iPhone. She looked up and smiled as I walked by her to the refrigerator, opening it up and grabbing a bottled water.

I twisted the cap and took a healthy drink as I eyed her from the side. I was trying to keep casual but the fact that she was only wearing a gray sleeveless hoodie that only halfway covered her ass and black bikini panties had my hormones in an uproar. The way she was bent over, the hoodie was giving me some serious sideboob too.

She shifted and glanced at me.

In a sleepy bored voice, she said, "Someone's up early."

Taking another sip of water, I shrugged, "Curse of military life, getting up early becomes a habit."

I took another deep drink and tried not to stare, but it was really difficult, especially when she turned away and I didn't have to worry about her seeing me perving on her. I finished the bottle and moved to throw it in the trash, when I turned back, she had shifted position again and now her hoodie was at her waist. With it pulled up higher, I could see most of her hip and could tell her panties were a string bikini.

Something alerted her, some instinct, and she looked sidelong at me. I fought the urge to look away, she started this, I wasn't going to shy away.

She met my eyes. Her blue eyes narrowed an infinitesimal fraction, and without really changing her neutral expression, it felt knowing, challenging, teasing in the knowledge of what I wanted and what she was showing.

An understanding passed between us. The measure of each other being taken, the stakes of the game understood.

I wanted her, I wanted to rip those panties off her and take her right there in the kitchen, roughly pounding into her, making her scream my name in delight, beg me for more.

As if sensing my thoughts, she raised an eyebrow, giving me a slight chiding shake of her head as she looked back at her phone.

I waited silently to see if she'd say anything but she just kept looking at her iPhone on the counter.

"What we gonna do for breakfast?" I finally asked.

She looked up at me, grinning as if she'd won the contest of wills between us, but I stole a little bit of her thunder by making sure it was obvious I was staring at her ass. She gruffly cleared her throat and I slowly turned my eyes toward hers.

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips and she said, "How about we get dressed and I'll treat to French toast."

"Sounds great," I said.

Neither of us moved.

Finally, she stood straight, walking her coffee over to the sink she dumped what little was left. Then with her back to me she sighed and stretched her arms over her head causing her hoodie to ride high on her waist. Now her cute little peach of a butt was on display in tight black cotton.

In the middle of her stretch she looked over her shoulder at me with a lazy grin. My eyes flicked to hers but then I made an exaggerated and obvious look down at her ass.

She turned and trailed a hand across my chest as she walked away.

Never turning back, she said, "You got 20 minutes to get ready then I'm leaving without you."

I went to change and thought about the exchange we just had, the subtle test of wills and struggle for dominance in each interaction.

I met her at the door and we went to a nearby diner for breakfast. After that we spent the rest of the day just hanging out and getting to know each other. I enjoyed the time with her. She was funny, with a dry sense of humor and wickedly smart. Time flew by as she took me to a local park and we walked around talking about our lives and family.

*****

(Alice)

I walked by the kitchen and saw Ryan making dinner. He was looking pretty cute in blue jeans and a black t-shirt that had Marines in gold lettering on the front, it hugged his frame and showed off his lean physique.

We'd spent the previous day hanging out and I admit that I enjoyed our time together. For a Marine he was surprisingly smart and funny. I figured I'd like him just from the way his dad constantly bragged about him but I did imagine he'd be a little full of himself, instead he was humble. I'd felt a bit flirtatious yesterday morning so I'd walked around in my panties, and there'd been some light brushing of our bodies throughout the day, but nothing too wicked. That surprised me again, I figured he might be more aggressive in response to my teasing but instead he took it in stride.

For a moment I watched him, his dad had shared pictures with Jesse and me before I met him. He was cute, but the pictures didn't do him justice. There was definitely something about him in person. Plus, most of the pictures were older and military life had filled him out. At six feet, he looked about 170 pounds and from what I could tell it was solid. His physique wasn't over the top muscle, just defined. His jet-black hair was cut short and he had the tanned skin of somebody that spent a lot of time outdoors. I couldn't see them right now, but his eyes were a warm brown with flecks of gold.

Right now, his face was screwed in concentration as he mixed ingredients into a bowl.

"What you making?" I asked, entering the kitchen and hopping onto a barstool opposite him at the center kitchen aisle.

"Dinner," he replied.

I rolled my eyes, "I can see that dork, I meant what are you making for dinner?"

"It's my own recipe, I call them seafood snaps," he said.

"Ohhhh, your dad mentioned those, he said they were fantastic, he also said you were a good cook," I said.

"I try," he said, looking up at me grinning. "Want to help make dinner?"

"Sure," I said. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just added some stuff to the pasta in that bowl right there," he said, gesturing with his chin. "Add that bottle of Italian dressing and mix it all up."

I nodded and did what he said, for a few minutes we worked in companionable silence.

"Kind of unusual for someone your age to be such a good cook," I said when I finished.

He looked up at me and shrugged, "Not a big secret or anything, after my mom died, dad was always working. Seemed kind of messed up to expect him to work all day then come home and make dinner."

"I'm impressed, most teenagers wouldn't think like that," I said.

Looking around like he was checking if anybody was nearby, he turned to me, "I'll tell you a secret."

Eyes bright, I asked, "What?"

"Dad's a horrible cook, it was a self-preservation thing," he laughed.

I giggled, "Still, he says that you don't just cook basic recipes, you try your own dishes and some pretty complicated dinners too, that's impressive."

"Thank you," he nodded. "I just kind of took to it, little experiments here and there, it was nice to cheer dad up, coming home to a good meal made it easier on both of us. Reduced the stress of a bad situation."

"That's sweet," I said. "I've heard some crazy other things about you."

"Uh oh," he said. "Like what?"

I arched an eyebrow, "You do yoga."

He smiled with a shrug, "Guilty as charged."

"Is that to pick up chicks or something?" I teased.

"Naw, strangely enough, it's a Marine thing," he stated. "I have a Master Sgt. that's kind of a mentor. He told me that in battle, it's not always about moving forward, in today's environments in the cities and stuff, being able to move in multiple dimensions and being limber is important."

I nodded my head, "Never thought about that, but it makes sense."

"That's what I thought," he said. "And I can tell you after two combat deployments, he was right. Being limber, being able to move through doors and windows, increased flexibility, it all helped."

"The more I talk to you, the more impressed I am," I admitted.

He shrugged again and looked down.

Taking his bowl, he began to spoon the mixture on slices of sourdough.

"You can put a lid on that and put it in the frig," he said.

I nodded and did as he said. Then turned to the sink and started washing some of the dirty utensils.

"I also heard a story about you getting pretty drunk recently," I teased.

"Oh my god," he groaned. "Dad is making way too big a deal about that."

I laughed, "Oh yeah, why's that?"

"He knows I rarely drink..."

I interrupted, "Wait, what, a Marine that doesn't drink?"

He shook his head ruefully, "Yeah, I know, I get it all the time."

"So why did you get drunk?" I asked playfully. "Girl break up with you?"

He sniffed, "I wish."

I looked at him skeptically, "A cutie like you doesn't have a girl?"

He tilted his head, "Too many deployments and stuff, just haven't had the chance to meet many girls, and I'm not really a one-night stand kind of guy."

I eyed him in disbelief, "No hit it and quit it."

He met my gaze and didn't flinch, quietly he said, "I prefer to hit it repeatedly till she can't think straight and passes out."

My eyes widened and I swallowed, he never broke my stare.

I blinked first and looked away, suddenly shy. I made a point to rinse some dishes and he went to the oven to put a tray in before he turned back to me.

Clearing my throat, I looked back at him "Uhm, okay, about this drinking binge."

He held my gaze a moment, then walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of crown and a coke. Getting ice from the freezer and working methodically he made two drinks and handed me one.

"When I do drink, I drink good stuff," he said.

As I took the drink his fingers grazed mine, for a moment we held them there as he looked into my eyes, I flushed red but acted nonchalant as I took a sip and nodded.

"Anyway, again, it's no big mystery or anything crazy, all my friends use me as a DD," he said.

Continuing his story, "One night somebody asked if I just wanted a single drink and I waved him off, he said that one drink wouldn't hurt."

"At that point I asked him, how do you know? Do you even know what .08 feels like?"

"At first, he was all 'Everybody knows that,' and he launched into what the classes have taught us and all that crap."

"Then I interrupted him, I know what they teach us, but do you know what .08 feels like? Have you ever had a breathalyzer by you and tested yourself after each drink?"