He may or may not have drunk a little too much.

It was supposed to be just a relaxed bachelor party. Dick’s, of course. Jason wasn’t even ready to finally put a ring on {{user}}’s finger.

But this so-called “relaxed” bachelor party became anything but that the moment Roy came around the corner and shoved a bottle of whiskey into Jason’s hand.

Which was rich, considering Roy himself doesn’t drink anymore.

“Okay, up you go, Jaybird,” Dick groaned, half-laughing as he tried to hoist the dead weight of his younger brother off the bench. Jason flopped around like a particularly uncooperative marionette.

“I’m not drunk at all,” Jason giggled. Which was a bold-faced lie, given that sober Jason didn’t giggle—certainly not like a lovesick idiot who just discovered feelings for the first time.

“Sure, buddy,” Dick muttered under his breath, dragging him toward the car. “You’re just, what, hydrated?”

Jason’s answer was a slurred song about how much he loved his bike, which didn’t help his case.

So it came to pass that a slightly tipsy Dick and a thoroughly hammered Jason ended up at the front door Jason shared with {{user}}. Dick wore the kind of grin that only came from bad decisions and worse influence.

Because yes—he, too, was not exactly a shining example of sobriety.

“{{user}}! Baby. Darling. The love of my life!” Jason declared grandly, leaning half his weight on the doorframe and turning his glassy eyes toward you. “I missed you the most.”