day after, The

by laurel

Notes: part of the foursome universe. Follows: a Christmas wish, a new love, that's what friends are for, Popsicle toes, twister, tangled up in blue, the list, the jazz singer, debut, meet the neighbors, war games, the art of seduction, summer's end, what are you doing New Year's eve?, ruminations, in dreams; one martini, two martini, three martini, floor.

Inspired by a discussion of hangover cures. Check out the cool website: for more cures. Thanks to Dorlinda, for sparking this story.

Sequel: one martini, two martini, three martini, floor.

Archive: okay to DitB, WWOMB, anyone else just ask first.

All three men watched the sleeping bundle buried beneath the sheets and blankets warily. A sort of snore/mumble/sigh was muzzled by the covers. The dark head was barely visible. His one hand was on the pillow.

Fox had researched some novel hangover cures on the web, as well as gathering some traditional ones from his own memory and those of Walter and John. None of them was a teetotaler so they came up with an wide assortment.

Walter had made pancakes. Solid food was a sure fire cure. John opted for a bit of the "hair of the dog that bit you" elixir, so he'd mixed up a lemon vodka martini.

There was a shuffling and a groan. They were all on alert, like prairie dogs scanning the horizon for predators.

Fox had phoned Marcie. She had blasted him good with all sorts of un-lady-like language and then slammed the phone down. Right in his ear. Damn he hated when people did that. Oh well, guess she was okay. Her husband was due to come home that evening so that gave her plenty of time to recuperate in bed.

John had called Jesse. Stephen was pretty pissed at Alex getting his wife drunk but John had defended his lover, telling her husband that a loaded gun hadn't exactly been aimed at her head. Stephen mumbled that Alex was the instigator but reluctantly agreed that Jesse was the one to ultimately blame. She was definitely feeling like she was getting punished, that's for sure. Elizabeth and Jane were tiptoeing around their ornery mom, alternately tickled at their mother's party-girl potential and alarmed their mother had actually gotten drunk. Was Alateen far behind?

Walter had phoned their next-door neighbor. Richard was too excited to form coherent words. Not that he was angry. No, it was the complete opposite. After sending the boys outside to play after dinner, he'd gone to check on Hannah.

Gone was the damp, cold towel over her forehead, the bottle of aspirin and the whole pot of coffee she'd managed to drink. Instead his wife was sitting there in the sexy lingerie she usually pulled out only for special occasions (she usually had on her fruit of the loom plain white briefs). This was too much information for Walter. Thankfully he hadn't seen her naked.

Her headache was gone and apparently the hangover was receding too, for she charged at her husband and leapt on him like she was Tarzan's Jane and her husband (in olive green Dockers and green polo shirt) was a vine.

She began to lick and suck his neck and kiss him voraciously. He had been delighted with her aggressiveness, especially as he had been so worried about her physical state. She didn't take sick too often and he'd never seen her drink more than two glasses of white wine or perhaps one cocktail, never mind, drunk. He liked this new Hannah, especially when she escaped his grasp and slid down to the floor to unbutton his pants. The lights were on and the window shade was up but who cared when she started to suck his cock like she was a Hoover? Way too much information for Walter. Richard apologized but asked him to thank Alex for the tremendous bout of sex they'd had. He did have one question though? Did Alex have a butterfly tattoo? Hannah had seemed quite obsessed with the idea. Richard wasn't too fond of tattooing and piercing himself, in total opposition of their arty neighbors down the street, Mona and Dirk and children.

No one bothered to call Dinah. They figured she was fine. She was a party girl and probably had stock in Chaser pills.

The groan became louder and more insistent. "Oh, fuck," Alex cursed and tried to pull the whole sheet over his head. "Somebody shut off the light.

"The light is off and the blinds are drawn," Fox said.

"Shh, shh, not so loud," he complained.

"Poor baby. Hey Walter made pancakes for you and there's plenty of coffee."

Walter glared at Alex who was curled up in a fetal position now. "Get up Alex. You need to eat then go for a good, long walk. What you need is exercise, fresh air and lots of water. Come on. Then after that I want to know what the hell happened."

Alex groaned.

"I made a nice strong martini Alex, with the lemon Stoli. You'll like it," John promised.

There was another groan.

"Or you could stick to more traditional cures. I read about this on the net. You take a fresh lemon, slice it up then take the wedge and rub it in your armpit."

Alex sat up and frowned at Fox. "I'm not putting a lemon in my pit." He snuffled, groaned and held his hand to his head, then sank back into the warmth of the blankets.

"Or you could try the traditional never stop drinking bit."

"Yeah, right."

"How about something less toxic on the liver. Like raw eggs and Tabasco sauce," Fox suggested.

Alex shivered in disgust.

"Hey what about that one you were showing me on that website. Something about pickled cow eyes. Or that one with the eels," John volunteered some more weird cures.

Alex sat up, threw the covers off and bolted for the bathroom. They could hear him retching.

"Disgusting shit works every time," John said and smiled. "Throwing up helps get rid of the toxins," he explained.

Walter glared at John. "I'll get him some water."

Alex spend an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, vomiting, dry-heaving, rinsing out his sour mouth then waited for something else to jump out of his stomach like in an Alien film. He laid his head on the cool porcelain sink. He managed to wring out a wet face cloth to lay on his forehead. That was better. Then he threw up some more. He got up cautiously. His stomach was now settling. Finally he rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth, gargled with Listerine and washed his face.

He stumbled into the bedroom again, rubbing his sore stomach and glaring at his lovers, daring them to say something. Walter handed him a cold glass of water, two aspirin and Tums. He also had strong coffee ready as well as a plate of buckwheat pancakes drowning in maple syrup. Alex realized he was hungry. He thanked Walter and ate breakfast while they watched.

As soon as he downed his coffee and ate the last bite of pancake, Walter took the plate away and handed it to Fox. Fox knew better than to argue. Walter was going to ream out Alex good. And it wasn't the kind Alex liked.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Walter growled.

Alex held his head and moaned in misery. "Please not so loud."

"It's too bad you have a headache. You could have a lot worse. What's the matter with you, getting drunk like that and getting all our friends drunk to boot?"

"I didn't hold a gun to their heads," Alex complained. "And besides it was a little harmless fun. We didn't drive home drunk." He slid under the sheets and pulled them over his head again. Unfortunately he could still hear Walter's rants.

Fox got back in time to hear the rest. Walter paused only long enough to ask if he'd rinsed the sticky plate. Fox knew better than to leave it just lying in the sink and nodded affirmatively.

"No, thank God you had the sense to 'hire' a car to drive you home and apparently all over the damn city. Jimmy was gracious enough not to report your outrageous behavior to the cops. Speaking of which, that little scene in the pool was not amusing, Alex. You all got citations, including the meek neighbor next door. You sullied the reputations of several upstanding citizens not to mention causing a disgraceful scene on top of which someone could have gotten seriously injured while swimming under the influence."

Fox had to hide a smile. That pool scene was hilarious. Alex was a hoot when drunk. John covered his amusement with an unconvincing cough. Which caused Walter to glare in his direction. At least his attention was directed away from Alex for a moment.

Alex lifted the cover and defended his actions. "First of all Jimmy was compensated for his time, Dinah has a worse reputation than mine and no one got hurt. On top of which they had fun. When was the last you had fun?" Alex yelled and then immediately regretted it. He pulled the sheets over his head and groaned. "Please go away to leave me suffer in silent agony alone," he pleaded.

"Fine, we'll finish this discussion later."

"Can't wait," Alex muttered.

They left the bedroom quietly. Walter placed another glass of water on the nightstand. They all made sure to keep the noise level down.

The interminable wait for Alex to sleep off his hangover and for Walter to calm down was more excruciating than piecing together the thousands of shredded files of the East German secret police. Fox hid in the office to work on his book, which he had finally titled "I want to believe" and to the relief of his agent was nearly done, while John played some b-ball with a couple of friends.

Alex didn't emerge until hours later, refreshed from a long nap, a hot shower and lots of water. He had some chicken noodle soup with crushed crackers at the kitchen table. Walter barely acknowledged him as he went about getting dinner ready. Alex went on eating but a lump was forming in his throat making it difficult to swallow. He tried some lame conversation but Walter replied with grunts and one word answers.

Teardrops were falling into his soup. Alex pushed the bowl away and swiped at his face. He hated it when any one of them was angry with him, but especially when Walter was mad or disappointed. It just brought his past baggage with his lovers back to the forefront of his mind.

He jumped up from his chair and grabbed Walter from behind, burying his face into his lover's neck. "I'm sorry, Walter," he cried, unable to contain his emotions any longer. "I know I screwed up but I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I promise I won't ever do it again."

Walter turned around and held Alex close. He rubbed his head against Alex's hair. "Baby, don't cry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," he said softly.

"No, you were right. I messed up and someone could have gotten hurt. I promise I won't do anything bad like that again." He looked at Walter. "Look, I know I've promised before but this time I mean it. Really. Don't be mad anymore. I won't ever do anything like that again." He buried his face in Walter's shirt. "I'll never drink again. I'll never steal roses from Mrs. Miller's house ever and I'll never spray that nasty tom cat with water, I swear. And I won't hang out with any of my old spy friends 'cause I know you think they're a bad influence. I'll even get rid of all my weapons, even the ones you don't know I have. I'll hang out with goody two-shoes Hannah more often. I'll volunteer at the community center too, like you keep asking me to do. I'll even stop telling the Jehovah's witnesses that we're satanic cultists to get rid of them. I'll do anything you want, just please don't be mad at me anymore. I'll be good," he whispered.

Walter was taken aback by Alex's emotional outburst. He couldn't think of a single word to say. Instead he stroked Alex's hair and rubbed his back as Alex cried.

Alex sniffled and wiped his eyes. "I'll be good," he promised.

"I don't want you to be good, Alex. I just want you to be you. I don't care if you point the hose at that mean cat, you can hang out with your friends just as long as you don't come home in a police car like last time and you don't have to hang out with Hannah if you don't want to. I just want you to think before you do things because I don't want you to be reckless and get hurt. I want you around for a very long time." He squeezed Alex tightly. "I love you my little rat and I want to grow old with you. Do you hear me?" he asked in a gruff voice filled with emotions that threatened to prevent speech.

Alex nodded. "You don't think I'm bad because of what happened?"

"You're a little bad," he conceded. "But you're not a bad person and I'm only mad because you or the others could have gotten hurt and you got into trouble with the law. I could never hate you okay?"

Alex nodded again. "Do you really mean it?"

"I do. You could never make me stop loving you no matter what crazy antics you come up with. And the look on the faces of those Jehovah's witnesses was absolutely priceless." Walter grinned at the memory.

Alex hiccupped a laugh and burrowed into Walter's embrace. "I am sorry," he repeated.

"I know you are. Now finish your soup. Dinner will be ready for six."

They were companionably silent as they ate dinner. Walter had grilled chicken breasts accompanied by a side dish of wild rice and asparagus. There was a salad to follow with crusty bread and olive oil for dipping.

Alex chewed on an asparagus tip thoughtfully. John, who was sitting across from him, stared at Alex as he ate. Whatever had transpired between Walter and Alex was over, well before John and Fox joined them in the dining room. Walter would occasionally look at Alex and smile at him reassuringly, ask him how his dinner was, pat him on the shoulder and let the caress linger. He also volunteered to make Alex some ginger tea after dinner to settle his stomach if it was bothering him. Alex smiled back at Walter and relaxed, engaging in the same kind of play as they made up. Alex licked the butter off the asparagus tip. That made John moan out loud.

"Christ almighty, do you know what that does to me?" he asked.

Alex looked startled. "What? Eating?"

"No, the licking," Fox explained. He'd been watching Alex just as avidly.

Alex looked down at the asparagus and licked it teasingly. "I love hard stalks," he growled, then giggled.

Fox groaned, echoing John. Walter shook his head. "Do you guys have to turn everything into a sexual innuendo?"

"Yup, we do," Fox agreed. "You know, another great cure for a hangover is lots of hot, sweaty sex. How about it rat?"

"I'm game, Foxy. Snoop dog?" He glanced at John.

"Would you stop calling me that?" He sighed in exasperation.

"Do you want me to go back to Spot?"

"I'd rather you just call me by my given name. Or honey, baby, lover, stud. Stud is good," John decided and emphasized it with a nod and a smile.

"Okay stud, I do have a bit of a headache still. Think you guys can make it go away?"

"Damn right we can," Fox replied.

They ended dinner with white chocolate mousse garnished with fresh strawberries. Alex patted his stomach gratefully after they were finished. "That was perfect Walter."

"I'm glad you liked it. Want me to make you some tea?"

"Yeah, okay, just half a cup. I'll clear the table."

"Here, we'll help," Fox volunteered.

They had the dishes stacked and the tablecloth shaken out in just a couple of minutes.

John tuned the stereo to Alex's favorite jazz station. The Dave Brubeck quartet was being featured. He opened the blinds just a bit to let in the barest hint of light. The orange sunset sliced through even so.

Alex drank his tea while Fox started the dishwasher and Walter scrubbed down the indoor grill.

They hustled Alex into the spacious den. It was a big room filled with all the comforts of the typical man-leather sofa and chairs to swallow up even a man of Walter's size, big screen television, state of the art theatre and sound system, several remotes for all the equipment at hand. They all crowded into the soft buttery comfort of the sofa, with Alex in the middle. Walter and Fox were on either side of him, with John next to Fox.

They began slowly, just cuddling with Alex. He laid his head on Walter's shoulder and enjoyed the tender attentions. Fox burrowed into his neck and began to kiss his skin lightly. He could feel John's arm reach around Fox to caress his hair. Walter gently rubbed his temple to ease the slight aching that was still there. Alex sighed and moved his neck to give Fox better access. The man could register his tongue as a lethal weapon.

He wriggled as Walter joined in the game. One of them at his neck was heaven, but two was nirvana. John slipped off the sofa and knelt at Alex's feet. He deftly unbuttoned Alex's shirt and nuzzled into his chest and belly. Alex petted his hair fondly and lingered at his ears. John stifled a laugh. Who knew ears could be ticklish spots?

Now Fox and Walter were kissing and chewing on his neck in earnest. Alex rolled his head back and sighed. John undid his zipper and was able to pull his jeans down with barely any movement needed on Alex's part. Alex stifled a surprised cry at the cool leather against his ass.

Now two hands were rubbing his chest and circling his nipples. He clutched at Fox and Walter as they left hickeys all over his neck and chest. John parted Alex's legs to give him more room to maneuver. John clutched his hard shaft and swallowed the length slowly.

Alex moaned at the wet tight heat of John's mouth and pushed his pelvis forward. Walter and Fox took this as a message to heighten his arousal further. They pushed against him so he could feel their hard lengths and each began to suckle at his neck and shoulders harder.

They undressed quickly, throwing clothes haphazardly around, decorating the black furniture. Horns blared from the stereo as if announcing their nakedness.

Alex was pushed down so he was splayed across the big leather sofa. His creamy skin was a startling contrast to the ink black couch. Fox removed his prosthesis and set it down on a chair. All three moved in to feast on their lover: Fox knelt near his face to exchange deep wet kisses and suckle at his sensitive neck, John in the middle to nibble and caress his chest and Walter at his hips to suck his cock before picking up Alex's legs and scissoring them around his waist.

Walter prepared him thoroughly with lube, pushing his thick fingers into Alex to get him ready for his big cock. John caressed his quivering belly as Walter penetrated his tight hole, watching as they made love. Fox stopped kissing Alex briefly to see his eyes light up with pleasure as Walter stroked him long and hard then returned to his task of making Alex's lips swell up from his attentions.

They soon fell into a steady hard rhythm that made Alex cry out and groan with pleasure. John continued fingering his nipples but his mouth was busy with Alex's cock. He kept his eyes on Walter's hips as he fucked Alex. And luckily Fox had two hands, one on his own cock and one on John as he continued kissing and nibbling on Alex's lips and neck.

The attentions of all of his lovers on him was too much for Alex. He didn't last long before losing control and came with a cry that was swallowed by Fox's mouth. He pulled Fox closer with his hand on the back of his neck and devoured his lover. John swallowed all of his semen and continued to lick at Alex's cock to make sure he didn't miss a drop. It wasn't easy keeping that leather sofa clean! Walter's thrusts became erratic as he came closer to climaxing. Fox worked his hands faster, determined to match Walter's climax in timing. Alex pulled Walter down with his strong legs and kissed him deeply, milking his cock just the way he knew would bring the big man to his knees. And within seconds the three of them were coming.

Walter collapsed on Alex's body while John and Fox fell into each other's arms exhausted. The frantic jazz music was broken only by deep breathing and sighs of satisfaction. Walter got off of Alex and they all snuggled together. John wiped Alex's thighs off. It's a good thing they thought to throw a towel underneath him too, as he was dripping with Walter's load. Fox cleaned up John and himself with another towel. Even so they were all still slightly sticky. They moved reluctantly upstairs to bed early, their limbs heavy with their exertions. Alex insisted they not shower. He wanted to smell and feel the evidence of their love. They crowded around him in the middle and basked in the afterglow.

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