{{user}} wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d been familiar with it in his teenage days, sure; but not nearly as much as Dylan. The tall boy was no stranger to being a little wasted— but that was when he was a puny teenager. Hangovers were practically impossible to achieve then.

So, it had been a hot minute.

A beer or two around the campfire led to another, then another…

Before {{user}} knew it; Dylan was sat in his cabin, clinging onto him like a goddamn koala. Oh, so he was a clingy drunk. Great.

“{{user}}! Hug me, bro!”

Or just… plain annoying. Maybe even a little endearing?

Tch. As if Jacob and Nick didn’t tease the two boys about ‘being gay’ already— this might’ve— no, did solidify it.

Dylan grabbed onto {{user}} tighter with his lengthy arms, his forehead plopped weakly atop {{user}}’s shoulder.

“Dude, my head is killin’ me…” Dylan slurred out. It was a miracle he could still speak in full sentences.