Dolan Twins

Summary: Ethan and Y/N come home after too much tequila, and Grayson’s left to handle the pair when he finds them on the verge of burning the house down. Although, neither seem to care in as they both remain drunk on Don Julio and love.  

Word Count: 3.2k 

A/N: This is just a little fic that stemmed from a conversation with Emma (@hmmmethan) and Kristina (@deluxedolans) because we were all very whiney and feeling messy about getting drunk with E in our group chat. So like, enjoy the suffering with us. 

“I hope to arrive to my death, late, in love, and a little drunk” - Atticus 

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Grayson Dolan lived for nights like this.

A cool breeze from the LA air flittering through his window as he stepped out of the shower. His muscles were aching in the most satisfying way from a hard, late-night, lifting sesh, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed.

The digital clock next to his bed blinked 10 PM – the reason for his already heavy eyes as he let out a silent yawn.

It had been a long Friday filled with productive meetings which made him feel so accomplished, and with how early he was meant to be up tomorrow, there was nothing stopping him from heading to bed.

Silently, only the sound of the music from his record player filling the empty room, Grayson goes through the rest of his nightly routine. His teeth are brushed, skin handled carefully as he presses the cream on certain spots of his forehead, and finally, he snaps a pic with the time on display to throw on his story – letting his followers know of his content night in like the responsible guy he is.

And once he’s done, he’s quick to crawl under the covers, sighing in content when he finally gets the chance to lay down, and inhaling the scent of laundry detergent that comes from his freshly washed sheets.

It doesn’t take long for his eyes to flutter shut, only making it through two mindless YouTube videos before the grip he has on his phone loosens, falling from his hand, and onto the pillow next to him.

His dreams turn wild and adventurous once he falls in the deepest stage of sleep, and really, he doesn’t think there’s anything that could keep him from sleeping through the night.

That is, until his eyes shoot open at the sound of a loud crash coming from the kitchen, followed by an obnoxious, howling, laugh that echoes through every crevice of the house.

The sudden interruption prompts Grayson to sit upright, turning to his clock which now reads 3 AM.

His first thought is that someone’s broken in, making his heart beat pick up the slightest. Though that’s completely illogical when another loud crash permeates through the walls and he hears another voice shout his brother’s name through fits of laughter.

With a roll of his eyes, Grayson finally throws the covers from his body and stumbles towards his door. The fluorescent glow from the kitchen lights his path down the hallway, but it doesn’t keep him from tripping slightly over a pair of discarded jeans that have carelessly been thrown in a heap at the end of the hall along with a pair of converse and heeled boots.  

He finally starts to put the puzzle pieces together when he hears continuous laughter that is quickly being shushed by the other party.

“You’re going to wake up Grayson!” a low voice that was meant to come out in a whisper, shouts amusingly followed by another clang of metal.