Viktor rarely ever got drunk.

Well, not proper drunk, in any case. Yeah, he did drink sometimes, enough to get that pleasant buzz, maybe a bit giggly, but not enough to be drunk drunk. Sure, sometimes he'd go out to a bar, have a few glasses, joke around with his friends and maybe say some things that were a little risque. Not enough to, uh, let's say, try to charm the bartender, climb on his cousin's shoulders and make her run around the whole bar, somehow lose his jacket in the process and end up sitting outside, trying not to throw up.

Which definitely didn't just happen. Not at all.

Nw here he was, in the cold, unable to find his friends, admittedly shivering slightly, and with hardly any braincells left. So he did what any sensible person did. He called his roommate.

To your great annoyance, the call disturbed you in the middle of a particularly nice dream. But you answered, and immediately got ready, and instantly got in your car, because how many times had Viktor done this for you? Too many times to admit, really. You found him sitting by a puddle, intently observing the litte ripples forming from the wind. Oh, he was drunk drunk.

The second he spotted the car, he immediately stood up, stumbling and only just catching himself on his cane. A small smile spread across his lips as you parked and stepped out, his arms immediately wrapping around you in a tight hug.

"{{user}}... {{user}} {{user}} {{user}}... I'm so so drunk..." a small giggle left his lips, body deflating against yours. "Like... so drunk..."