What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas. (Usually)

The spy groaned as he opened his dry eyes, ugh.... stupid hangover. Maybe he shouldn't drank so bloody much.

Well, at least he slept on a bed and not on a floor, He hoped it's the fact that he managed to get to his bed and not the fact he brought someone home.

That hope was dashed when he glanced to the side and noticed the another blond-haired man in the bed, who was shirtless.

Why does he look familiar for- oh hell no, it was that annoying Git that was bothering him last night!

...He looked under the covers in growing horror, please let it be just the hangover and he does still have his pants on.

"...Oh fuck."

(First time writing Arthur, forgive me if there is any mistakes. ...actually, tell me the mistakes so I can try to fix them. XD)

Edit: This going to be a role-play with Foxy, Kingy and me. It's a James Bond and Indiana Jones crossover with the Hangover plot(With incoming smut... /shot).

....Yeah.

This is going to be hilarious.

Alfred 'Indiana' Jones had had an interesting night. He had gone to the hotel's club/bar to flirt around, get smashed and learn about his next greatest adventure when he met a rather mean but still Sexy British guy. He had flirted around and been rejected repeatedly, which did hurt his ego a bit,but when the British guy himself got smashed out of his mind, Indiana had been really amused.

The guy had spouted off about how he was a very well known spy back 'over the pond' and that he should be treated better and blablahblahblahblah at first, but the more he drank the more ridiculous he got. Eventually he had gotten on top of a table and danced, working his clothes off. By the time he was left in his briefs, really, who wears briefs, The Bartender told Indiana to take his little boyfriend back to his room. He didn't bother trying to explain that that wasn't what it was like and pulled 'Bond' off the table and gathered up his clothes and his bag, leading him to the elevator. The bushy browed dude spouted of nonsensical british slang for a while and when Indiana asked where his room was, his response was a rather attractive Brit pushing his against the wall and snogging him rather messily... or at least, that's what he remembered, because after a certain point he remembered they went back to the bar, got even more smashed and.... The rest was a blur.

--

Waking up the next morning hurt. His glasses were still on his face, his shirt was gone and his hat was sitting on the lamp. Rolling over in bed he groaned, coming face to chest with the British guy from last night his mind cleared a little, and the first mixed up words from his mouth was "Oh. Good morning. Sure used a lot of condoms last night, didn't we?" He remembered vaguely where they bought twelve boxes of condoms and used them as balloons, water and regular.

Alfred's eyes fluttered open and promptly shut themselves again, the sun too aggressive for his sleepy vision. Though finally he seemed to register the unfamiliar surrounding. He was in a bathroom, that he knew. But it looked nicer than his own, albeit distinctively messier with all the clothes scattered around. Were those used condoms?

Last night was a blur but he could remember one thing. That one thing that changed his life. Just thinking about it made Alfred blush and smile happily. And suddenly it wasn't so important that he was hung over or that he woke up in who knows where...or that he was...tied up to the golden towel rail with a golden penis carelessly lying on the floor next to him. Upon closer inspection he could see a small note attached to the golden phallus.

This one's fake. I stole the original one. HahaHaHA!
Signed, The Villain

He didn't know if it meant that the original golden penis was stolen or if someone's real penis was stolen and replaced by a fake one. Alfred wriggled around with his thighs...just to make sure that nothing was missing.

Arthur's mood wasn't helped at all when the handsome man annoyance spoke up, he turned to snarl at the other man, "Good morning? How in the hell can it be a good morning when I found out that I had multiple rounds sex with a bloody git like you!?"

Of which he doesn't even remember and if his sore arse can said, he was on the receiving side. ...Maybe he should just never DRINK alcohol again.

Although, he does remember a bloody great kiss, he fought down the urge to blush and decided to find his pants and trousers as fast as he can. The spy hoped he will never run into the git ever again after he leaves.

He was so intent to getting out of here that he didn't noticed that he doesn't have his tools anymore or the fact he was giving the other man a very nice eyeful of his bare arse. He stopped himself from tripping over something when he got out of the bed.

...

Was that thing a condom made into a bloody balloon!?

(...ya know, I was very tempt to write 'people that are awesome wear briefs!' >_>)

Indiana sprawled out across the bed, taking up all the space that had been so close yet so far to him when the Brit was in it. Watching the emerald eyed male through half lidded eyes lazily, he eventually realized what the other was looking for. His 'trousers', according to Indiana's somewhat blurred vision were still tied to the fan, which was moving round and round, slowly, inching around the room at a snails pace. Pointing to the ceiling for a moment, clearing his throat to catch the others attention he then sighed, dropping his hand back down into the bed. His hands curled around the others briefs (haha, briefs. Who in the fuck wore briefs anymore? Boxers were awesome.) They were soft, and realizing it rather belatedly he felt kind of like a creeper. Letting go of them he shoved them down under the covers of the bed, humming for a moment some silly tune.

Let the brit find them. He deserved to look for them, especially after-

Hey, wait a minute. Was that.... Nah, no way did a rooster just strut through the doorway. He had to be seeing things.

Rolling out of bed he crawled along the floor to the bathroom, nudging the door open with his hand. Standing up, and entering, he stopped with a blink.

"Oh."

Another blink.

"Damn, did we have Kinky sex last night or something?"

Another blink. Silence.

"Well, you are rather cute..."

A leer from the adventurer. More silence.

"I shall take your silence as an agreement to have lots of sex."

More silence.

"Score."

Thank god the other's mouth was taped shut.

Kinky sex indeed. At least that's what it looked like, and Alfred simply hoped that that golden penis never entered any hole of his body. He shivered at the thought.

Looking up, he did his best to put on the notorious killer puppy look, hoping that he would be released from this tiring position. Everything in his body hurt and he would do anything to be able to move his wrists freely. Damn that person who forgot to untie him.

Alfred squirmed some more and practically begged to be freed. There were also some things to be discussed. And also, Alfred wanted to ask for their opinion on the improvised condom party decorations.

It really was a condom turned into a balloon and the spy noticed more condom balloons littered around the floor. ....Just how many condoms were used as balloons and were used as their intended use? Arthur could asked the git, but he wanted to get out of this room and never seen the man ever again.

He scanned the room for his missing clothing and made sure that he never stepped on the balloons. ...was that a rooster? Why was-...what the hell happened last night?

...Right. Let's just get his pants and trousers, then he can leave. It's not like he was starting to think of asking if the American had better memory of what happen. The Brit ignored the other man crawling toward the bathroom as he grabbed his trousers from the fan, he wasn't sure he wanted to know how his trousers got tied up with the fan. After that, he had finally found his pants under the bed covers and put his clothing on.

But he noticed something very bad, he had lost his tools and was about to search for them as well. Arthur heard the American talking with a another person in the bathroo-....a third person!? The spy ignored his plan to leave and walked over to the bathroom, he saw an another man, who looked pretty much the same as the git, tied to the golden towel rail and had his mouth duct taped. There was a golden penis on the floor neared the other man with a note.

The spy stepped past the American and walked over to the other man and said, "This will hurt." He ripped off the duct tape as.... nice as he could. Now..., he started to work on untied the other man from the towel rail.

(I wasn't sure who was suppose to get rid of the duct tape, so... sorry if that was suppose to be Indiana's job, I could edit this? :P

and since it so late, i will check on the tenses tomorrow.)

Indiana Giggled -in a manly way of course- when his look alike squeaked as the cute brit ripped off the duct tape covering the bound male's mouth. Ignoring them for the moment he raided the cabinet above the sink for the extra strength Tylenol he knew he put there. Finding it, he was glad for thinking ahead because the steady pound starting up sent spots flashing across his vision and the pain was not something he wanted to be intensified. Stupid mother Fucking hang over. Dry swallowing two pills he then turned back to the other occupants in the bathroom and

"What the fuck. Why is my golden dick in here?"

Strolling over he went to pick it up only to stop halfway there, spotting the little note.

"What. the Fuck."

He blinked.

"The villain? Really? That's such a lame ass title."

He almost laughed, but frowned instead. "Fuck. I can't believe it's a mother fucking fake. Fucker."

Yeah, He did have a little problem with cursing. He wasn't even going to bother lying about it.