The First Turnover Back Home
When he woke up the next morning, Gabrion remembered only snatches of the Turnover festivities. There was music and dancing - and wine, lots of wine. Someone had even given him one of those sweet-tasting mixed drinks. You couldn't even taste the liquor. That one messed him up pretty quick, and there was no going back.
There'd been a girl he danced with a couple of times, at her request. It took him a while to clue in, but Gabrion had finally realized she was trying to get him into bed. He'd thought about it, actually... But no.
There'd been a boy. Breathtakingly handsome. Gabe had a hard time keeping his eyes off the man's most impressively shapely rear end. Unfortunately he was draped all over some other guy, and both of them had to be at least eighteen. So out of Gabe's league.
After that it got real spotty. He remembered going out to get some fresh air, and bellowing so that the sound of his voice echoed off the walls of the bowl that Healer Hall sucked and Healer Hall could go fuck itself, especially Master Kinston. Shells. Had he said that? Who knew what he had said about Zekaro. It had to be good. He'd probably hear about it later.
At some point, someone had thrown him into a snowbank. Maybe to shut him up? Or had it been a part of the snowball fight?
They'd ruled him out of the snowball fight for good when he puked in the snow.
Someone must have dragged or carried him back to his room; he woke up on his bed still fully clothed, but with his wet boots and socks pulled off.
He had a headache. He felt sick. Happy fucking turnover. He rolled over and went back to sleep. Someone else could cover his duty shift at the infirmary this morning. Gabe didn't care.
There'd been a girl he danced with a couple of times, at her request. It took him a while to clue in, but Gabrion had finally realized she was trying to get him into bed. He'd thought about it, actually... But no.
There'd been a boy. Breathtakingly handsome. Gabe had a hard time keeping his eyes off the man's most impressively shapely rear end. Unfortunately he was draped all over some other guy, and both of them had to be at least eighteen. So out of Gabe's league.
After that it got real spotty. He remembered going out to get some fresh air, and bellowing so that the sound of his voice echoed off the walls of the bowl that Healer Hall sucked and Healer Hall could go fuck itself, especially Master Kinston. Shells. Had he said that? Who knew what he had said about Zekaro. It had to be good. He'd probably hear about it later.
At some point, someone had thrown him into a snowbank. Maybe to shut him up? Or had it been a part of the snowball fight?
They'd ruled him out of the snowball fight for good when he puked in the snow.
Someone must have dragged or carried him back to his room; he woke up on his bed still fully clothed, but with his wet boots and socks pulled off.
He had a headache. He felt sick. Happy fucking turnover. He rolled over and went back to sleep. Someone else could cover his duty shift at the infirmary this morning. Gabe didn't care.