“So first you vomit on my jacket, then you pass out in my car, now you can’t walk. Jesus Christ.”

He rolls his eyes as he carries up the stairs to his apartment. Jason only went to the party because Dick was going. When you–some rando–started sobbing on his shoulder, it was an excuse to leave, and it seemed like you needed a helping hand. But taking care of you was a lot more difficult than he’d thought.

“I’m dumping ice water on you when we get up, I don’t care. You need to sober up.”