Jopper Oneshots

45?!

"Hopper? What are you doing here?" He almost stumbled on the door frame as he stepped inside. "Heya!" His cheerfulness was almost unnecessary, his grin was massive and his steps were uncoordinated.

She tentatively smiled back. "Hi? What are you doing here?"

"Alcohol is delicious!" He paused. "I mean... MAlicious." His words were nearly punctuated by pauses at this point. "Sorry, Joyce. I'm really drunk right now."

"Yup... I can tell." He grinned at her again. "You had a lot of drinks, huh?"

"45 shots of vodka." He seemed proud of himself, and she was beside herself. "45 shots?! What the heck, Hopper!"

"Yeah, 45! That's the most I've ever done at once!"

"JIM! THE UPPER CAP FOR MEN IS LIKE 9 OR SOMETHING!"

"Yeah, I know! And I did like- 30 times that!"

"Jim. Five times. You did five times the upper cap. Not 30. If you did 30 you would have taken 270 shots."

"Still. Five times is still a lot. More than you've ever done."

"No, it's not... but anyways, come lay on the couch. You're not driving like this." She led him over to the couch and shoved him slightly when he refused to sit. It sort of reminds her of that one time back when he got beaten by that Russian psychopath, Grigory or Gregory or something. She never bothered to learn his name, but why would she? That guy had been trying to kill her.

His snores echoed after a moment. She chuckled, he'd always been quick to fall asleep; a fact she'd known about him since elementary. When they would have sleepovers he would fall asleep long before she was even starting to get tired. She planned on retreating to her room, when she realized that he could have a panic attack or something when he wakes up. Joyce then stood and sat on the only open section on her old, worn couch and fell asleep after a while of staring pointlessly at the ceiling.