People who fall between friends and lovers: drinking buddies. →[More:] I said in essexjan's "where did the years go" thread that I just learned of the passing of someone I hadn't been in contact with in a long time. It hit me hard, because he wasn't just a friend, he was a drinking buddy.
You have to be a little bit in love with people you regularly get fucked up with, I think.
Some of it comes from the shared, illicit love of aclohol or what have you. Some of it comes from the intimacy of things like feats of derring-do (skinny dipping, wrestling, dare deviling), spilling your guts, and simply crashing with people.
I find I've had an almost equal number of good drinking buddies and lovers in my life, with surprisingly little overlap. Crushes fuel drinking buddy-ism.
For clarity, I'm a woman, and most but not all of my drinking buddies and lovers have been men, but the theory holds for me either way.
Jimmy broke my glasses once and peed on my floor once. We found both these events hilarious and made great stories from them. The last time I saw him, he rubbed my back while I cried until I fell asleep. That wasn't a story for sharing.
I imagine the same compatriotism could arise in the military or the peace corp or in a disaster situation.
Drinking Buddy Lit or Cinema favorites anyone? I'm in a mood.