PSL for posinglikeaswan

[weedyshyguy]

"Jemaine. Mm. Jemaine. Thiss tassse...tasstess really good," Bret slurred, taking another sip of...whatever it was that had been put in his hand. He suspected Dave put it there but he wasn't really certain. It tasted sweet. And it appeared to be in a nice glass. One he probably shouldn't break. He devoted a great deal of concentration to making

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[posinglikeaswan]

Jemaine was only a little drunk.

At least, he was significantly less drunk than Bret who seemed to be teetering precariously on the spot. But that was how it worked -- Bret was a lightweight, the kind of person who crashed hard and woke up remembering nothing. Jemaine was the kind of person who not only remembered but grumbled about it for days. He gave Bret a brisk pat on the shoulder, not too hard or he'd fall, clearly amused. His friend's inability to hold his liqueur made up for the fact that he was unwittingly ruining their chances of getting with any ladies; swaying just wasn't sexy, no matter what way you looked at it.

He looked down at the glass in his hand, disinterested, before raising it to his mouth.

"I dunno, man," he shrugged. "Maybe you should sit down."

[weedyshyguy]

"Nah. No. 'm good. Jusss'...happy," Bret murmured, beaming brightly up at Jemaine. He felt tingly and warm. His legs were solid beneath him but his upper half was wobbly. He leaned into Jemaine, taking it for granted that he'd hold him up if he fell.

He hummed vaguely. "We should write a song."

[posinglikeaswan]

Jemaine grunted against Bret's weight, leaning back to keep himself upright.

Again with the song writing?

"You never remember them," he quipped with an eye roll. "You're a terrible lyricist when you're drunk. Last time you tried to rhyme chair with corduroy." Which had been amusing at the time but hardly made the transition to when they were both sober again.

[weedyshyguy]

"Ooooh. Thass righ'," Bret nodded rapidly, or as rapidly as he could manage when the room was tilting. It really was tilting a lot. He didn't know if he liked that.

"J'maine. J'maine." Bret widened his eyes, struggling to focus on his friend's face. It was awfully close. "'m very drunk." Beat. "Don' take adva...advantage of me." Bret giggled, flattening his palm against Jemaine's chest as he felt his balance slip again.

[posinglikeaswan]

"Bret why --"

-- hello Bret's face.

Jemaine frowned and extended two firm hands, to his shoulders, attempting to steady Bret's compromised balance. It was becoming glaringly obvious that he'd maybe, just maybe had too much to drink. Perhaps not by normal standards, but by Bret's standards-- whoa, Jemaine steadied his shoulders again.

"You should sit down, Bret."