"Bren, come on. I gotta get you home," Ryan said already irritated. Brendon shook his head and brought the red solo cup to his lips. Ryan huffed. They'd been at this stupid party for hours. He wanted to go home. "Let's go."
"I no wan go. I say, you go," Brendon slurred. Ryan frowned as he watched his drunken friend move to refill his cup. He looked like Bambi learning how to walk. Ryan watched as the boy tripped into another guy.
"Hey, watch it dude!" Brendon got shoved and stumbled back. He hit the hallway wall mumbling a soft 'ow'. His face was scrunched in a grimace. His body slowly began sliding down the wall to the floor.
"Can we go now?" Brendon looked up to see his best friend standing with his arms crossed impatiently.
"RYAN!" A lazy smile crept over his face. "I ws looing fur you." He raised an unsteady hand to point up at Ryan. "I'm drunk," he giggled.
"I know." Even drunk, Brendon knew he upset Ryan. He didn't want his friend mad at him. He shouldn't have drank. He knew how much Ryan hated it, but getting drunk was the best way to forget. He couldn't be totally responsible for his actions either because Ryan would assume it was the alcohol.
His mind went to all the makeout sessions the two shared while he was drunk. How Brendon managed to be daring enough to kiss his friend and not have to face the backlash later. Ryan would assume Brendon didn't remember, but he did. He remembered and craved the feeling of the other's lips on his own. Getting drunk was the only way he could do that stuff and not have anything awkward between Ryan later.
He felt himself being hoisted up. His hands grasped Ryan's biceps to steady himself. The room was spinning and he felt like he would fall over if there weren't hands on his waist to support him.
"Let's get you home." Ryan's voice was much softer. His shut his eyes and nodded slowly. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan stood there a second before guiding the drunken man through the crowd of sweaty college students.
Ryan had Brendon buckled in the car in no time. After plenty of practice, the task was easy for him. Brendon leaned his head on the window, wishing his surroundings to stop spinning. He groaned when he felt the car jerk into motion.
He felt a hand grip his own. He hesitantly peeked over to see Ryan linking their fingers together, keeping his eyes on the road.
"You'll be okay, B. We're almost home." Keeping to his promise, Ryan parked the car outside their apartment not ten minutes later. When he got out and walked to the passenger side, he knocked gently on the window, signally Brendon to lean off it so he wouldn't fall when the door opened.
Yeah, they've done this a lot. They had their system worked out. Getting Brendon out the car, up the stairs and into his room was trivial at this point. When Brendon was too drunk to walk, Ryan managed to carry him up. The only reason he had any muscle at all was because Brendon was heavy for a twig. He had to build some strength to lift him.
Ryan helped Brendon into bed. He already disrobed the man down to his boxers, with no resistance from Brendon this time.
"There," Ryan let out a tired sigh. "See you in the morning, B." As Ryan turned to go to his own room, Brendon groaned.
"Ryaaaan." Another sigh came from the sober man.
"Yes, B." He kept his voice soft, like a mother speaking to a child. Brendon shot his arms up and made grabby hands at Ryan.
"Lovings," he pouted. Ryan's face went red. He knew what that meant.
"N-no, B." Brendon slowly sat up and gave Ryan his best puppy dog eyes.
