FANDOM: The Addams family
PROMPT: 060. Drink
SUMMARY: On a very rare occassion, Gomez gets drunk. Just a crazy little fluff involving a bachelor party. Slightly out of character, for we've never seen him drunk... =D
"So," his wife smiled at him as she swivelled her legs over the bed, the pale feet landing on the rough floorboards, "What exactly are you doing tonight?"
He reached over to touch her back, trying to grasp the silk of her nightgown, "Lie back down and I shall tell you." He pulled her back and she squealed slightly as she landed against the silk. He pulled her to lie against him, his arm locked over her chest, holding her down.
"I have things to do, darling," she muttered, turning to lie against him anyway, "So what are you doing tonight?"
"Well," he smiled, "some aperitifs in the parlour before we go to the Bistro then," he tapped his nose with the air of the conspirator and winked, "Who knows?"
She narrowed her eyes, "I think you do know."
"Do I detect a hint of jealousy my darling Morticia?"
She snorted gracefully, "Do not flatter yourself Mon cher."
He reached out and tickled her side, "Oh Mrs Addams, I do detect a hint of jealousy. In fact, a lot of jealousy."
She frowned and climbed on top of him, straddling his silk pyjamas as she balanced her weight on his chest, curling her fingers in the hair there. He stared at her face and in the softest gesture she thought she had ever known, reached up and brushed her hair gently behind her ear. She was caught off guard by such a beautifully romantic movement.
"I am better than any woman who undresses for a living," she whispered curtly, catching one of his fingers in her teeth as he withdrew his hand. She let it go as he growled slightly.
"That was sore! And I know
that," he laughed, holding her hips in place, "But I wouldn't
mind if you undressed exclusively for me."
she frowned and bent to hover over his face, he tried to reach out to kiss her but she restrained him with hands on his shoulders, "Don't be ridiculous. You've never been denied that."
"Are you calling me ridiculous?"
"Of course I am," she answered with a sigh, rolling quickly off him to lie beside him, "You are infuriating."
"Oh Morticia," he laughed, "You're ire smacks of jealousy."
She laughed wickedly and turned to him, "I know."
He smiled, "I'd rather have you dance for me than anyone. In fact, if you want to right now…"
She shook her head and reached out to kiss him.
"I adore you, Morticia."
"I know," she rested against his chest, "I don't think we have been out for a night without each other for years. In fact, since the whole Fester and Debbie debacle and even then, the bachelor party was in the dungeon."
"Well I happen to want to do this for Joel," he shrugged.
She laughed cruelly but snuggled into him, "You have changed your mind."
"I know," he answered defensively, "I have gotten to know him."
"I am glad," she answered
honestly, "It makes things so much easier."
"Indeed it does," he smiled, "So, who is all going?" She inquired lightly as a rude smile crossed his face. It was a very rare occasion that his wife was jealous and indeed he had only ever seen it once in his life, "Well myself for a start, obviously the groom himself, Joel. His friend, you know the odd looking one who is his chief groomsman, Fester, Pugsley, Itt, Thing, Cousin Pyro. William Williamson and a few others were invited. Oh and Isaac Glicker of course."
"Of course," she frowned, "I didn't know Williamson was going."
"Mhmm," he laughed, "My
oldest and dearest friend."
"And the man who got you arrested on the night before our wedding," she shook her head, "Blowing up a car park is not a good idea for a bachelor prank especially after you put detergent in the park fountain."
"Old Williamson has always been crazy, he was like that at college. One time we tied Robson, who came top of the law class to a bed of nails and left him there, he threatened to sue. Always was a bit of a stiff. We were always playing pranks at Yale."
"Well," she smiled approvingly at his youthful, wistful nostalgia, "Just be sensible."
He laughed unctuously down at her.
"Don't laugh Gomez!" She smiled despite herself.
"Are you blushing?" He
questioned, "I know you inside out, my beautiful darling
"You do not," she answered flirtatiously, "What am I thinking right now?"
"I want Gomez to ravish me,"
he answered roguishly, "That is what you're
"Indeed," she laughed, "I want you to ravish me and remember it, when you're in whatever seedy nightclub tonight and creating whatever havoc you must."
"You know even if you were
undressing in front of me," he laughed, "I'd probably be
thinking about that."
"That makes very little sense," she whispered as he reached out to pull her nearer.
"I never make much sense," he whispered, "Nice and slowly."
"I said 'nice and slowly'," he repeated, resting his entire weight on her, "Nor rush this morning, just you and I."
"No toys?" She pouted and touched his face softly, "No whips or chains or red hot pokers?"
"No just two lovers," he whispered, kissing her neck gently.
Isaac Glicker sighed, watching his wife swing her legs over the bed as she pulled her cheaply made morning coat over her.
"What are you doing tonight then?"
"I don't know," he muttered, wishing that morning hadn't come and he didn't have to face that haggard countenance, "Addams has arranged it….actually I'm quite looking forward to it."
"Well," she snorted, her nasally voice already grating, "Just make sure you come home early. That Addams is just no good. And don't get me started on the Mother!"
She stood up and shuffled from the room as he shook his head. If he was being honest he liked Addams senior and actually found his son's fiancée rather charming. And Morticia wasn't too bad either…
"I might not come home at all," he muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?" She turned back, a severe look on her already severe face.
Gomez admired himself in the mirror in the parlour. He had dressed smartly, in a fine suit Morticia had commissioned for him from Paris. He ha always been a fine dresser and it had never once crossed his mind not to be.
"You look good," she smiled as she looked up from her knitting.
He turned to her, taking the cigar from his mouth and straightening his tie one last time, "It's a perfect fit."
"Mhmm," she turned to the door distractedly, where her youngest son had just bounded in followed by his sister.
"I want to go tonight," he
demanded immediately of his father who raised a brow at his wife,
"Please can I go?"
"No," he shook his head regretfully, "You're only seven. A few years yet, maybe when you are nine."
"Oh but please," he turned his huge eyes to his mother who could barely stand the sight, "I am very mature."
"You can't handle your wine, you get awfully manic" Wednesday interjected, "And anyways I thought you were going to help me make the wedding favours."
She pointed to the table when a vast number of spiders scurried in a jar and rich looking, webbed gauze lay in piles. He looked at the table for a moment and then back to his Father.
"No," Morticia interrupted with a tone of finality that warned of no further protestations, "I say no and Father says no."
He hung his head but no sooner had he went into his mood than he had come out again, "Well," he addressed Wednesday, "We better get started I suppose."
An adorably diligent worker he lifted the jar of spiders and took her hand in his own, leading her from the parlour.
"He's been asking all day,"
Gomez said to no-one in particular, "Should I-"
"No darling, she stood up and came toward him, "Not at all."
"So wise Cara," he smiled.
"Now, I shall go find Pubert and Wednesday and assist them," she smiled, "Lurch is at your service but let me know when you're leaving."
"Ok," he took her hand in his own and kissed it gently.
In the kitchen they couldn't hear the ruckus above stairs which involved a lot of wine and cigar smoke. They had made their way through a good number of favours before lurch appeared, delivering (in his on special way) the message that the party was now leaving. He looked exceptionally dejected at the task of driving them to the Bistro; then again Lurch always looked dejected.
Morticia stood slowly and turned to her daughter, "Are you coming to say goodbye to Joel?"
"No," Wednesday answered, "It will just make him nervous. He's already been warned."
"Warned?" Morticia raised a brow at what could only be typically described as a very Morticia thing to say.
"Yes," Wednesday returned to the favours.
By the time she had reached up stairs the group had made their way into the hall, shrugging clumsily into coats. The only one who seemed composed was her husband - whom she had witnessed drinking an entirety of two bottles of wine in the past and not being much drunk at all.
"There is the lady herself!" Before she could reach him, Williamson had jumped out of nowhere pulling her against him and waltzing around the dank space.
"Unhand my wife," Gomez laughed.
He let go of her as she raised a brow at him, "And how are you William?"
"Jealous," he laughed, "Insanely jealous I never got to have you."
"Indeed," she breezed past him, "Hello gentlemen"
She pressed a cool kiss to Joel's cheek and nodded politely at Mr Glicker.
"How are you all?" She questioned, coming to stand beside her husband. For a moment Gomez was reminded of a predatory feline, one that was unattainable and dangerous.
There was a rousing and manly chorus of 'well' and 'splendid.'
"Good," she smiled and raised a hand to her husbands chest, were the perceptive person would have seen her dig her nails in, "Now be careful, all of you, please with my husband and future son in law."
She aimed this particular comment at her son and brother-in-law but Williamson laughed, "Your husband can look after himself! The boy though…"
He patted Joel on the back, who already looked squeamish.
"Goodnight darling," Gomez
cocked an eye brow caddishly as he made his way to the door,
"Don't wait up."
"I won't," she answered coolly.
She glimpsed, as they filed out the door, the back of Joel's shirt and there where little speckles of blood where lacerations had evidently been made not long before. She decided her warning was perhaps more subtle than Wednesday's may have been, yet hopefully as effective.
Isaac Glicker had never quite seen anything like it in his life. While his son had seemed to assimilate it would have appeared that he himself could not. The loud and obnoxious but undeniably likeable Williamson had taken his place beside him both in the night club and the Bistro. Their table was flush against the stage and the suspicious looking Master of Ceremonies had smiled cunningly at Gomez when he had asked for such a position. Gomez had simply pointed at Joel and said, "It's the boy's bachelor party! Now champagne for everyone."
Copious amounts of champagne were indeed had and already, Pugsley had made a violent pass at one of the other patrons, just for looking at him. But Isaac could not deny he was having quite a wonderful time, with such manly talk and hilarity. Even though they looked like quite mutinous group.
"Tell me Glicker," Addams had sat back in his seat, comfortably puffing on the illegal and expensive cigars he had offered to everyone. Isaac stared at the man who had a kind of dapper reassurance surrounding him, an absolute air of being at the top of his game, "Have you even been here before?"
Isaac scanned the place quickly with his eyes. It reminded him of the nightclubs in old 30's Noir movies, that doubled as dens of iniquity and mobster meeting places. The décor was scarlet and gilded unnecessarily, with round tables and gas light lamps. The air was blue with smoke and every man there, apart from him, looked like they belonged there with their fedora's and spats. Even his son had worn braces and a silk cravat. He sighed and turned to Addams.
"No," he laughed slightly, "But it is quite something."
Williamson laughed, "This is where Gomez and I used to come," he patted his old friend on the back, "Before he got married! Now he doesn't leave the house."
Gomez cocked an eye brow, "Husbandly duties, old man."
"Tell me the details…"
"Ha!" Gomez turned to him, "You have seriously never been here? This is where strip-tease started. Of course," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a money clip which was packed tight with hundred dollar bills, sliding the pack toward Joel, "I've grown up."
"You've never grown up," Pugsley interjected casually, "You've been lax in your fatherly duty though."
"You never told me this place existed."
Joel laughed and smiled, "Nor me Mr Addams."
"It's a learning experience boys."
Joel shook his head and leaned towards his future father-in-law, "Wednesday would kill me and I mean it. I know she's your daughter-"
"My boy," he laughed and patted Joel's back, just where one of the lacerations had began to calm. The boy winced visibly.
"Ah, she's just like her Mother," Gomez smiled, "And that truly isn't a bad thing."
The lights had dimmed and all that was left were the lights on the tables and the fowl smelling stage lights. Their faces were thrown into grotesque shadows, each face partially hidden. A band, hidden in the corner started their entr'acte of music and a woman slid onto stage. A silence, a kind of awed appreciation of the scantily clad woman waiving massive feathery fans, fell over the younger boys in the group. And Fester too. While Gomez had sat back and closed his eyes, simply enjoying the wonderful bars of Tchaikovsky. Isaac Glicker stared at him, perplexed as to why the man had closed his eyes.
"Ah, I remember this Gomez," Williamson laughed loudly, slapping his old friend hard on the shoulder.
"So do I," Gomez answered, "But I remember being non compis mentis."
"My friend, it's better that way! Forever in vino veritas! Now open your damn eyes!"
"No Thank you," Gomez laughed a serene smile crossing his features.
Morticia opened her eyes, the melodic humming of Por Una Cabeza reaching her ears before her eyes were willing to open. She sighed slightly and looked up to find her husband waltzing with himself.
"Good evening darling," her husband smiled clumsily, throwing off his shirt as his cigar bobbed perilously in his moth. She smiled slightly. An intoxicated Gomez, she conjectured, while not as dapper and engaging as a sober one was always game for some adorable banter.
"Hello Gomez," she looked at the clock, "But I think you'll find evening is long gone. How was your night?"
He laughed and continued to waltz, while trying to remove his trousers.
"You're going to break your neck."
He smiled roguishly at her, "Would
you like that?"
she raised her head to rest on her hands, "No. You would be no use to me."
"I would be powerless," he
fell onto the bed and touched her face softly. For all he was
inebriated he still had the ability to be exceptionally romantic.
"I like to have your power," she kissed his fingers, "But I would never like you to be void of it. I like to give it back."
He laughed and wrestling gracelessly with the silk sheets, rolled into bed.
"Did you take your shoes off?"
"In the parlour, my jackets on the stairs, my trousers are on the floor and so is my shirt - I hope" she squeezed his bum in investigation and was relieved to feel expensive silk there, he giggled slightly, "I still have my boxers on but that can be remedied."
She raised a brow in the dark, "It's quite alright. How was your night?"
"Fun," he turned round so he was smothering her with his romantic embrace, he slurred slightly, "Fester collapsed, Williamson's sleeping in one of the guest rooms," he whispered slightly and she had the distinct feeling he did not want her to hear, "Isaac disappeared with one of the women, cad! I don't think he'll be going home! And Joel, Pugsley and Joel's friends are - well - um, to cut a very long story short they got arrested."
She sat up swiftly and reprovingly, "Gomez!"
He kept his head on the pillow, mouth slightly agape, eye closed, "Lie down Cara, I can't touch you up there."
She rolled her eyes, "But it's the wedding in two days."
"I'll go to the station and bale them out tomorrow," he laughed, "I promise you."
"You best," she smiled, "Otherwise your daughter will have your head."
"Can I make love to you?"
"Are you capable of it?"
"Not particularly," he smiled, "But I'll give it a go."
"Half-hearted efforts don't sit well with me," she laughed, snuggling into his chest.
"The dancer tonight was a half-hearted effort," he mused drowsily, "You on the other hand," his hand snuck up her thigh cheekily, "Are the best effort I have ever laid-eyes on."
"Drunk eyes," she laughed good-naturedly and took his hand in her own, kissing the fingers.
"I just shut my eyes and thought of that night on the boat," he laughed and she squirmed slightly, "Don't blush, it's burned into my memory. And I adore you, I love you, I think of no one but you. I'm going to make love to you in the morning, I promise."
"I love you too."
But he didn't really hear her.
It would seem, she thought as he rumbled into snores of drink-induced sleep, that her warning had indeed paid off.
Hope you enjoyed it
None of this belongs to me, it all belongs to The Charles Addams estate and paramount. No infringement intended.