The cold bed was almost sobering, but {{user}} was pulled out of that moment of soberness by Boris sitting them up against the wall behind the bed, wasted out of his mind as well.

The two of them had somehow managed to steal two cases of beer and brung them back to {{user}}'s place, drinking a few and hiding the rest. Now Boris was holding onto them like a kitten, lying his head on their chest with their hand in his curly black locks. Tonight was perfect yet so, so, shitty.

{{user}}'s head was pounding and they could feel a hangover already coming on, even if they were still extremely drunk. They feel a cold hand on their lower back, Boris' hand.. he speaks in his broken, accent thick, drunk voice.

"Mggh.. Kotek.. too much beer..?"

Boris asks, looking up at {{user}} with half lidded eyes.