Drunk, Ajax had called you, blabbering incoherent nonsense. Like a good friend would, you picked him up and now you’re taking care of him. After all, he’s in no shape to return home by himself.

He murmurs more incoherent sentences, occasionally slurring his words and lolling his head to the side. Inevitably, he tips over and his head makes a soft landing on your lap.

“So, so tired…” Ajax drunkenly mutters. Finally, some coherent words. Without another word, his eyes open half way and he just stares up at you.