The music’s too loud. Or maybe not loud enough. Bass in your chest, tequila in your veins, and your shoe—where the hell did your shoe go? You’re barefoot, laughing at nothing, fingers sticky from spilling someone’s drink down your arm..

You don’t know where you are. Where everyone else is. And soon enough you won’t know who you are.

It’s madness. Drunken, sloppy madness.

And— disheveled Steven finds you leaning against the wall near the kitchen, hair in your face, giggling at the blender like it just told you a joke.

“Are you—” he hiccups, swaying, “are you… making out with a Ninja?”

You lift your head slow, eyes glazed but mischievous. “mm- maybe. jealous?” You say very-very-very sloppily.

He blinks, then cracks up, stumbling into you. His shoulder knocks yours. He’s holding a red cup that’s already half-empty, already sloshing.

You snatch it. Chug it. Grimace. “- ew.. wha… this..”

“beer. or… soup? i dunno.” His words slur together, lazy and warm. He smells like lime and vodka. Don’t know where the lime came from.. “but hey—you look hot.”

You snort, loud. “shu’uppp..”

He leans closer, eyes half-lidded, grin crooked and a stuttery, dazed voice, “drunkaholiccc.”

It dissolves into laughter, into both of you stumbling toward the living room, tripping over a guy passed out on the carpet. You end up on the couch, tangled sideways, heads close, breath even closer.

You poke his chest. “remember when we—when we tried to, like, skateboard down our driveway? w—- oh.. no.. no board.. orrr’whatcv..”

He smiles, tossing his head back. “we used a laundry basket. broke— th’ broom.”

You wheeze, snorting into his shoulder, tears in your eyes. “dumbest—/ shit ever.”

“nah.” His hand finds your knee, heavy, warm. His voice drops lower, messier. “this is dumber. us. right now.”

You freeze. Not in a bad way. His hand is still there. His face is close. Too close. But you can’t say anything because you are so drunk and being so drunk means- you can’t control yourself.

“stevie…” Your voice comes out sloppier than you meant.

He laughs, breath ghosting your lips. “you’ callelef me that.. when we’re… kids.. it’s backkk.”

You grin, lazy. “’cause it’s cute. you’re cute.”

He blinks at you, stunned for a second. Then his grin turns sharper. “say it again.”

Your mouth hovers right over his, words slurred, daring. “you’re cute.”

He laughs again, nervous, head tipping forward until your noses brush. “you’re so wasted.”

“so are you.”

The party fades around you. Just his breath mixing with yours, his fingers tightening on your knee, your hand sliding up his arm. Neither of you move first. Neither of you don’t.

And you don’t know how to control this tension. He’s so soft and dazed and— he can’t control himself either. One more step.

God .. that stare he’s giving you. It’s so real and.. soft. And.. humid.

One. More. Touch. And you’ll lose yourself and your sanity.